Chapter 7: Pamela Can't be Trusted to Commit Perjury
Before joining the others outside the beer-hall, Sergio stopped at the pay phone and called Von Hellemann's messaging service. He told the woman who answered that they all had some vacation time coming, and, as Von Hellemann said they could take it at any time, they were taking a day or two off for a quick vacation. The boss would understand why some of his bodyguards would want to get their kids away for a day or two from a place where murders and attempted murders were happening ever more frequently.
As they walked back to the sailboat, Sovant explained, more or less coherently, what happened. Soon enough Maria began to scream at him, accusing him of flagrant idiocy for taking Al and Amanda for a drunken swim in the ice water of Lake Superior.
Amanda kept repeating the mantra: `We had to escape the thugs because we had to warn you that they were all over the place and we were afraid they might kill you.' But her words sounded like:
`WeHatToEscayThugsBecuzWeHatToWarYouThaTheyOverPlaceAnWeAfrayTheyKilYou.'
Once Sergio was assured that Al was safe, he found some time to be indignant with Pamela, accusing her of being drunk long before she started to swim.
Pamela was angry with Sergio for being in the beer-hall, and not at home watching Al and Amanda, to which Sergio said his boss asked him to check on Maria, to make sure she was safe, and the same boss said he would stay with Al and Amanda to make sure they were safe.
Everyone calmed down, and Sergio and Maria had to admit that nothing too terrible had happened to Al and Amanda.
The sober adults saw two big problems. First, if the cops found out that Haakon and Pamela had gotten a twelve-year-old drunk, so that she could endure a swim in the ice water of Lake Superior, and then had risked her life and the life of a two-year-old, by having them submerged in ice water for nearly 20 minutes, they might face prison time for child endangerment. The fact that Haakon and Pamela had to get even more drunk than they already were to endure the ice water was probably not going to win points for themselves with either the judge or the jury. It's true that, in their intoxicated minds, they sincerely believed they had to flee from killers in order to save Amanda and Al, and to warn Maria and Sergio that the mountainside seemed covered with trespassers, who they had to assume were dangerous. But could they convince a jury that they were wise to take the kids for a dangerous swim before they determined for a certainty that those men in the woods were killers? Sergio and Maria asked questions that they thought a prosecutor might ask. Perhaps the men in the woods were harmless? Perhaps they were tourists who got lost? The prosecutor might ask: What men in the woods? What killers? Did you call out to them? Did you ask them who they were? Or were you already drunk and witless? And then, when drunk and witless, did you get even more drunk and more witless when you dragged two kids into frigid water?
The police and the doctors at the Mayo Clinic certainly saw that Haakon had a bullet wound. There was certainly a thug somewhere. And then, two weeks later, there was the dead body Amanda found. But to get a twelve-year-old drunk, and to plunge her and a two-year-old into ice water, seemed rather reckless to Maria and Sergio. They could see why there would be some jail time.
The two sober adults in the sailboat agreed that some people had to hide out and sober up before they met with any cops. Once the cops learned that the dead man was a thug, they would understand why witnesses would flee the scene for awhile to protect some kids. Once they sobered up it would be easy for them to deny Amanda was drunk. It would be easy to claim that she was sick with the flu, and that she was drenched because she accidentally fell into the lake but was able to get out some seconds later.
Sergio and Maria knew it was a waste of time to have Haakon, Pamela and Amanda rehearse the story now, as it was a waste of time to have the drunk people commit a fabrication to memory, but the sober people, Sergio and Maria, still wanted them to get it straight themselves. It would have to be emphasized to Amanda that she could tell the cops some of the truth, she could say she was in the cottage when the shooting happened, but she must never say that she or any of them were drunk. And she must never say that they went for a swim in Lake Superior. And she must never say that she took the dead man's gun.
Maria was worried that Von Hellemann would hear that no end of witnesses saw Amanda and Haakon drunk in the beer-hall. No end of witnesses could testify that they were all wearing wet clothes and were drunk.
`They can't prove they were drunk,' said Sergio. `The story is they were walking on the pier to go to Haakon's sailboat, and then some punks pushed both of them into the lake. It took them awhile to climb out of the water. The symptoms one has when one's internal body temperature is very cold: stupor, dazed and glassy eyes, lack of coordination etc., resemble the symptoms of intoxication.'
`That's your story,' said Maria to Pamela, Haakon and Amanda, `you fell into the lake because some punks pushed you into the lake. We'll remind you of all this later when you sober up.'
`All of them walked,' Sergio was saying, `to Haakon's sailboat. You didn't swim there. You walked there after Amanda carried Al down the path, after she found the dead man's body.'
`Right.' said Maria.
`No,' said Haakon, no longer slurring his words too terribly. `The story is we were on my sailboat and Amanda slipped into the water. She went under and Pamela and I dove in to rescue her. It took a while to find her and to get her out after we found her, so of course we all got hypothermic. That's the story. That way we don't have to look at any mug shots of any punks. Whereas if we say Amanda was pushed off the pier by some punks, then the cops will want me to look at mug shots, and look at photos of local kids, and it will look fishy when I can't identify anyone.'
`Why didn't you go to the beer-hall first?' asked Sergio. `Why did you go to the sailboat before you went to the beer-hall if you were so keen to warn Maria and Me? I'll tell you why. Because you wanted to make sure the kids were safely hidden away on the sailboat. Got it? And of course you lost track of Amanda after you pulled her out of the lake, and then Amanda ran off to that store, and then to the beer-hall. She was hungry, I guess. She was also hypothermic and confused. Got it?'
`Yeah.'
Grand Marais had been a model city, in terms of peace, sweet repose, and charming small town Americana, that is, it was a model city until it suddenly erupted into chaos, when the wailing of police sirens became universal. There was pandemonium inside the beer-hall, and now there was pandemonium outside of it as well. No doubt the dead body had been found. Still, it seemed a lot of fuss to make over one dead gangster. No doubt these hick-town cops didn't see many bullet-ridden corpses to enliven their routine, reasoned Maria.
Fortunately, there was no law against people sailing on lakes and having campouts with cozy fires. The sun would be shining tomorrow and the day wouldn't be too cold. And they would all be sober. Amanda and Al could pretend they were Vikings sailing over the Norwegian Sea. With these arguments Sergio prevailed over every contrary voice which told him to stay in town.
Pamela, whose eyeballs were rolling in their sockets, suddenly lurched over. She didn't get sick, as Sovant and Amanda earlier had, but then, as everyone knows, it's better to retch rather than let the alcohol stew in one's stomach.
`Get her,' yelled Maria as Sergio lunged forward. He pulled Pamela to her feet. She had lost consciousness. Sergio slapped her face with cold water as he was afraid she might never wake up, but she woke up.
Haakon gave himself the task of making coffee as he rehearsed in his mind the story they had just agreed on. Unlike Pamela, Sovant had sobered up fast by thinking about the possibility that he might go to jail. He was all for the idea of getting out of town and soon. It would give them time to coach Amanda. She would have to learn to answer perfectly some rude or tricky questions from impertinent or cunning cops: Why were you drenched? Why were you intoxicated? And her answers: `I was very cold - I was not drunk.
I slipped off of Haakon's sailboat and fell into the frigid lake.'
They would have to coach Amanda so well it would be impossible for her to ever tell the cops the truth.
Maria wasn't keen on sailing in chilly weather in a crowded boat, but a cozy campfire sounded all right. She would have the duty of staying up all night in a cramped boat watching Amanda and Pamela, to make sure they didn't die from alcohol poisoning, as Sergio had to steer the boat, and Sovant was still too intoxicated to be trusted to watch anyone. She could see her husband falling asleep any second now. Maria believed that as long as everyone made it through the night, and didn't have any complications from alcohol poisoning or hypothermia or slipping in the cramped cabin of the boat and cracking one's skull on something hard, and as long as Amanda, Pamela and Haakon didn't say anything stupid to the cops - then everything ought to turn out ok. Al could only talk in baby-talk, so he could be trusted to keep a story straight.
Maria watched as Sergio and Haakon held mugs filled with lukewarm coffee as they tried to get Amanda and Pamela to drink up.
The police sirens were no longer blaring quite so loudly over the city. Haakon was saying that someone at Von Hellemann's Castle might remember that he owned a sailboat, and that the cops would eventually send someone round to check it out. On this news Sergio and Haakon went topside while Maria was left to tend to Pamela and Amanda. Both Amanda's and Pamela's eyeballs were glassy, and still rolling uncontrollably in their sockets. Maria had to slap their faces to keep them awake while she struggled to get them to keep on drinking their coffee.
On the deck, Sergio and Haakon, satisfied that no one was on the pier, and that no cops were to be seen, pulled in the mooring lines. Sergio fired up the outboard. They would raise the jib and mainsail later. No bullets or police bullhorns ordered them to stop as Sergio maneuvered the little craft out of the harbor.
A northeasterly course was set once they were upon the open lake. Sovant kept plenty of blankets and provisions on his boat, so no one would get any colder than they already were. Maria set herself to the task of brewing more coffee over the paraffin stove, while the others got out of their wet clothes and wrapped themselves up in the dry blankets. As the seconds elapsed the sober adults, Sergio and Maria, were relieved to see that they had escaped. Somehow, they had gotten away.
Pamela was still suffering, with her eyeballs still rolling wildly in her sockets. They got her out of the cramped cabin and into the fresh air on deck. The lake was calm, with only small swells, but the wind off the shore was fresh and invigorating. In another mile or two they decided they might go ashore, and light a fire, if Pamela didn't get any better. Amanda and Sovant, with several cups of coffee in each of them, with a cold fresh wind blowing in their faces, hardly seemed intoxicated. Pamela seemed to be somewhat revived in the cold breeze, or at least her eyes became a little more steady, though she was quite delirious, and was speaking in crazy, incoherent fragments. Haakon, who was at the helm, killed the outboard. They were surging along in perfect silence, with the jib and the mainsail alone driving them along parallel to the shoreline.
The breeze was steady and in a few hours, they had put 20 miles between them and the cops in Grand Marais. Before dawn had lightened the sky in the east, they found a secluded cove where they could hide out for the day. Haakon kept a cable and a winch in the boat, and he was therefore able, after lowering the mast, to drag the sailboat up the beach and under a canopy of pine trees. No cops would spy it now.
It was magnificent the way the red ball of the sun was suspended above the Great Lake. And their enjoyment of the sunrise was all the more delightful because law enforcement did not bust in on them while they were enjoying the fiery spectacle above Superior's waters.
Pamela was dreadfully tired but Sergio, fearing hypothermia, wanted to get one last cup of hot coffee into her before he let her sleep. Maria and he would have to take shifts during the day to monitor her breathing and her pulse, for they were still afraid she might lapse into a coma, or drown in vomit. They worried they might not get her to a hospital in time to save her life, if they absolutely had to get her to a hospital. Despite all these worries the magnificent sunrise seemed to lift everyone's spirits. With plenty of warm blankets to curl up under, and with a little time to sleep and sober up, they all hoped Pamela would soon make a full recovery.
By 5:00 in the afternoon the setting sun was turning the hills of Isle Royale into molten gold. By 5:00 pm everyone had had a long sleep, and everyone was wide awake. Even Pamela had enjoyed a deep and wonderful sleep. She was perfectly healthy, except for the fact that she had no memory of getting drunk, and she had no memory of Amanda and Haakon being drunk. She had no memory of staggering into the beer-hall, no memory of swimming in Lake Superior, no memory of sailing in Haakon's boat. Pamela could recall nothing about any dead man lying outside of her cottage. Pamela had no memory of anything that happened over the last 24 hours.
It was all strange and shocking news to Pamela that 4 well-armed adults, all professional body guards, along with two kids, were material witnesses in a murder case. It was news to Pamela that they had all gone on holiday just when the authorities would want to question them about a dead gangster lying outside of Pamela's cottage. Pamela thought it plausible that a man might be lying dead outside of her cottage - as that was what everyone was insisting - but it sounded terribly far-fetched to Pamela, terribly hard to believe indeed, that she, Amanda and Haakon had gotten drunk, and then went for a long swim in Lake Superior, in a desperate endeavor to elude some gangster friends of the dead gangster lying near her home.
They had planned to sail back to Grand Marais that evening to face whatever consequences awaited them. Amanda was well-coached. She was never going to admit that she was drunk, even if the police were to confront her with no end of witnesses who insisted that she was drunk. In her rehearsals, she was very convincing. She had no difficulty in insisting, in the face of Haakon's taunts, pretending he was a cop, that she was freezing! She was not drunk! She slipped off a sailboat into ice water. Her mother and Haakon dove in to save her!
But Amanda's mother seemed a hopeless case in Amanda's eyes. Everyone except Pamela was well coached to haul out all of their best excuses: Haakon had a terrible ordeal at the hands of the extortionists. They feared for the lives of the children. The lives of Al and Amanda were in great danger, because, obviously, one man was dead and Haakon almost died. Certainly the cops could understand, that, if, mobsters learned that one of their friends had been shot next to a cottage where two of Von Hellemann's body guards lived, these gangsters could be counted on to make trouble for those body guards and for their children.
Von Hellemann had more body guards inside the Castle to protect him. Why wouldn't his other body guards retreat to protect themselves and their children? Any sensible person ought to be able to see that they had to get out of town to protect Amanda and Al.
Everyone save Pamela understood that some small lies were necessary. Pamela had to be trained, indoctrinated, brainwashed if necessary, so that she could be made to understand that they had to take drastic measures, and, now, they had to lie about these measures.
She could well understand that she had no memory of the last 24 hours. But she seemed unable to repeat the story she was told to repeat. She was seen by witnesses in the beer-hall. These witnesses would all say that her daughter was both soaking wet and drunk. How did Amanda, her daughter, get in that condition? What sort of woman was her mother? Pamela was finding it terribly difficult to remember to say that her daughter was never drunk, but she had to admit her daughter was drenched, and she had to remember to say that Amanda fell into the lake at a time when most children her age where asleep in their beds in their homes.
But Pamela was exasperating, because, though she was no longer drunk, she seemed to vaguely remember something about Amanda taking someone's gun, and she was insisting she thought it best not to lie about t
his to the authorities. The others thought it was understandable why she would not want to commit perjury in a case which involved a man lying dead and very close to her cottage. But it was exasperating for everyone to see that she couldn't understand logic, logic which pertained to the welfare of her son and daughter. It was a shock to Sovant, in so many unimagined ways. He never suspected this woman, who he worked with for years in the CIA, could become so terribly amateurish and confused merely because of a little whiskey and a little cold water.
`She'll have to lawyer-up,' said Sergio. `That will keep her out of jail. But she might be unemployable when we look for new jobs.'
`Give her some time,' said Maria. `Maybe she'll be fine tomorrow.'
`If she is not prepared to commit perjury, if she can't lie with credibility, so to speak, then we have to convince her to clam up,' said Sergio. `A prosecutor will crack her open if she doesn't know what she's doing. If she can't tell a simple story without botching it, she'll get herself and Haakon convicted of perjury and child endangerment. If she can't tell the story right then she and Haakon will go to jail. Her brains are scrambled. And they might not be unscrambled tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day.'
When night fell they climbed back into the boat and set the sails. A strong breeze was blowing, and in three hours they were hard by Mt. Josephine, just below the Canadian line. They found a secluded cove while still in the USA.
`Mama,' said Al.
`What honey?' asked Pamela.
`Mama sad?'
`No, Mama is not sad.'
They beached the boat, lowered the mast, and then used the winch to drag the boat under the cover of the pine forest. Then they piled up driftwood which they found strewn conveniently for them over the beach, and soon they were warming themselves before the warm and fragrant blaze.
They had smoked fish and French bread, cheese and apples, cakes and raisins and chocolates. Bottles of beer, brandy and bourbon were always at hand, though no one was much in the mood for intoxicating spirits. They had iodine tablets to purify lake water, so there was no threat of going thirsty. Al cuddled up close to his mama under the blankets to keep warm. With only the occasional whine of truck and car tires from the highway nearby, there was little to distract Al from his deepest slumbers. Al loved the sweetness of the pines in this exquisite forest. He loved the wind which sang in the tree tops, and the million stars which shone down upon him. The murmur of the surf and the crashing of the waves breaking over the beach only served as a lullaby to Al as he drifted off to sleep.