Page 36 of The Lie Maker

“Science fiction, sitcoms, crime shows,” Bill said. “Everything. If there’s a TV trivia contest, like in a bar or something? I can clean everybody’s clock. Like, what was Rose’s last name on The Golden Girls?”

“I got nothin’,” I said, although the name was triggering.

Gwen said, “I don’t care.”

“Nylund,” he said, and smiled briefly.

A guy who liked The Golden Girls and techno music? If I’d put that in the profile, Gwen would have said that sounded unlikely.

“I got beat up a lot as a kid because the other kids thought I was weird,” he said, shrugging. “I didn’t do too bad, although I wasn’t great at math. Maybe that explains why I’ve never been all that good with money. Go right through it, you know? I’m always short. That’s probably why I started getting in trouble. You know, I couldn’t take the long view, have a plan to make more money. I always needed something today, so I’d steal stuff and then sell it.”

“You going to be able to live a normal life once you’re relocated?” I asked.

“That’s not really your area of concern,” Gwen said.

“Just curious.”

“No, that’s an interesting question,” Bill said. “The thing is, it’s not going to work.”

“What’s not going to work?” I asked.

Bill gave Gwen an apologetic look. “This is great and all, you giving me a new life in return for me testifying against those guys. I mean, if I hadn’t agreed to do that, you’d have sent me to prison, and I’d never have lasted a week in there. They’d always be worried one day I’d talk, so I was kind of up against the wall, you know?”

“Where are you going with this?” Gwen asked.

He smiled wryly, then looked at me. “She knows what the problem is. I mean, sure, even if these witness protection yahoos set me up with a new name in a new town with a new job and maybe I’ll find a new girlfriend, none of that matters, because eventually, one of these days, they are going to find me, and when they do, they’re not just going to kill me. They’re going to take their time. They’re going to enjoy themselves. You have any idea who’s looking for me?”

“No,” I said. “Didn’t think I was supposed to ask.”

He looked to Gwen for guidance. “Can we tell him?”

She shrugged, glanced again at the ticking fan. “Go ahead.”

“Russians,” he said. “That’s who’s fucking looking for me. You know anything about those guys?”

“We don’t move in the same circles,” I admitted.

“Be grateful. They got this thing they call the elephant. You know that one?”

I shook my head.

“So they put a gas mask on your head, so you look, you know, like you’ve got an elephant trunk coming off your face. You got your hands cuffed behind your back. You’re breathing through the mask and then they close off the breathing tube so you start running out of air pretty fast and you’re choking and you think you’re gonna die and then they open up the tube and you gasp for air and they shoot a little tear gas into it so it goes right into your lungs.”

I was speechless for a moment, then asked, “They did that to you?”

“No. But I’ve seen it done. Been in the room when it happened.”

“Jesus,” I said.

“These guys don’t fuck around. And they’re going to be looking for me.”

Gwen said, “We can protect you.”

“That’s what you keep saying,” Bill continued. “But the only way you can protect me is if I do what I’m supposed to do, and we all know that’s not going to happen. You know why?”

I wasn’t sure who that question was intended for, so neither Gwen nor I spoke.

“Because I’m a fucking addict,” Bill said. “Let me clarify that for you, Jack. I gamble. Horses, cards, fights, you name it. I can try to control it. I can try to keep a handle on it. But one day, I’m going to find a game somewhere. I’m going to go to the track. I’m going to sneak off for a few days and go to Vegas or Atlantic City. Because I won’t be able to stop myself. Am I right?”