One for Hell

by Jada M Davis

  The prying bastard, I oughta shove his teeth down his throat is what I oughta do....

  It was 8:45 when he slid into his coat and walked briskly toward town, and exactly nine when he reached the Hall. A car swooped around the corner and pulled in to the curb.

  “Get in,” Wesley said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Where’ll we go?”

  “You know where my girl lives,” Ree said. “You ought to. You stood around that telephone post long enough the other night.”

  Wesley laughed. “I thought you saw me.”

  “I’m not blind.”

  “Want to go there? Your girl’s house?”

  “Might as well.”

  “It’s all right for her to hear what we’re going to talk about?”

  “She’s all right.”

  Wesley didn’t like it. He drove in the right direction, but he didn’t like it. He frowned a little, fidgeted, and threw quick, nervous glances at Ree. “So you got a record,” he said.

  Willa Ree froze.

  Wesley turned a corner and slowed, letting the car idle. “I said you got a record.”

  “I heard you.”

  “That’s not so good for a chief of police. Not good at all.”

  “So it’s not so good.” Ree fought his voice. “So I’ve got a record. So what?”

  “So I know all about it, that’s so what.”

  “Now you know. So we’re gonna work together. What difference does it make to you, Wesley?”

  Wesley’s laugh was dry and sarcastic and mocking. “Well, I’ll tell you, Ree. It’s good to know things about people. Especially about people you wouldn’t trust any farther than you could throw an elephant.”

  “You mean you’d squeal if I tried to cross you?”

  “Sure. And you’d do the same thing. In fact, you’d squeal just to get me out of the way, and—”

  “You might do the same thing. Whether I try to cross you or not.”

  “That’s exactly right. If things don’t go to suit me, I’ll squeal like a stuck pig. I might squeal because I don’t like the tone of your voice or the color of your necktie.”

  “I see.”

  Wesley stopped the car. There was a light burning in Laura’s apartment, but Ree made no move to get out.

  “So you got the dough, Wesley. So now we’re partners and we split.”

  Wesley laughed. “I got the dough before we formed the partnership, Ree. You’re nuts if you think I’m gonna split with you!”

  “I don’t think it would be a very good partnership then, Wesley. The dough would stand between us all the way. I think it’s mine and you think it’s yours, so the only answer is a split. An equal split.”

  “It’s my dough,” Wesley said. “That’s final.”

  “You’re too ambitious. You might even get in the way of my ambition.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you’re a bastard, Wesley! Meaning you went to a lot of trouble to get my record so I’d be out in the cold! Meaning you’d squeal whether we became partners or not! Meaning, damn you, that you’re playing me like a cat does a mouse right now!”

  Wesley snickered.

  “I’ll just take the forty grand,” Willa Ree said. “If I trusted you, and if you’d been willing to split, everything would be jake. I could use a partner. But, now, I’ll just take the whole roll.”

  “You going to try to get tough?”

  “Just keep your hands on the wheel! I’m no Boy Scout and I’m not bragging, but I’m better at judo and better with my fists than any man you’ll ever see! Reach for that gun and you’d be sorry!”

  “I won’t take this!”

  “You’ll take it. Where’s the dough?”

  Wesley snorted, “None of your damned business!”

  Ree plucked the keys from the switch and put them in his pocket. Wesley opened the door on his side and got out of the car.

  “I’m going back to town, Ree. Leave my car in front of the station.”

  Ree watched him walk down the street. He lit a cigarette, fished for the keys, and started the motor. Wesley stepped up on the curb when the car pulled up.

  “You go on and leave me alone, Ree! I’m warning you!”

  “Put away your gun, Wesley. You won’t need it.”

  “You go on away!” Wesley repeated. “Leave my car in front of the station!”

  “It’s your car. I’ll walk.” He got out of the car and held out his hand. “Here’s your keys.”

  Wesley reached for the keys with his left hand, grunted when Ree caught it and spun him about. He cursed when he found himself helpless, back turned to Ree and arm pushed up between his shoulder blades.

  “Drop the gun,” Ree grunted.

  “Go to hell!”

  “Drop it, Wesley! I can twist your arm off!”

  “Go—to—hell!”

  Ree applied more pressure, and the gun fell to the pavement. He pushed Wesley from him. “Get in the car, pal.”

  Then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to pick up the gun, saying, “I wouldn’t want to get my prints on your gun, now would I, Wesley?”

  Wesley was slouched over in the car, head bowed.

  “Get under the wheel,” Ree ordered. He grinned, because the guy was scared, and showed it. “Drive around the block and stop when I say.” He made Wesley start the car, and directed the turns.

  “Stop here,” he said. “We’ll walk back.”

  Wesley got out of the car and tried to run.

  Ree tripped him and the man fell to the pavement, hard.

  “Where’s the dough, Wesley?”

  Silence.

  “We could still be partners. I want all the money, but we could still be partners.”

  “I’ll bet you’d kill your mother. Your own mother.”

  “You’re liable to get hurt, chum. Hurt bad. I’m telling you straight, Wesley, you’re liable to get hurt so bad you won’t recover. All you’ve got to do is tell me where you hid the money.”

  “You wouldn’t kill me, Ree. Stop clowning.”

  “I’m going to have that dough! One way or the other I’m going to have it! Understand?”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  Wesley got up. Slowly.

  “Ree. You’re bluffing. You’re tough and you can handle me, but you won’t go too far. You’re too smart.”

  “Maybe smart enough to know I can go as far as I like.”

  “You’re bluffing, Ree!”

  “Care to make a bet? Say, forty thousand dollars?”

  “You’ll never see a dollar of that money, bud! Not a damned dollar! Know why? Because I know you’re bluffing, that’s why!”

  “Wesley, I thought you were smart. I mean business, and I thought you’d be smart enough to realize it. Haven’t you been playing cop long enough to know when a man means business?”

  “Long enough to tell a punk when I see one, Ree! And, believe me, you take the cake!”

  Willa Ree leaned against the side of the car. Wesley stood before him, hands clenched, breathing hard.

  “I’m not waiting much longer,” Ree said. “I’ll give you about sixty seconds.”

  “I’ll give you two thousand dollars if you’ll blow town.”

  “Time’s passing.”

  “Three thousand dollars, Ree, if you’ll get out of town and not come back.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “Ree! I’ll give you four thousand—make it five—but you’ve absolutely got to leave town! Listen, see, you can go a long way on five thousand and there’re a lot of towns just as good as this one and you’d have the money to get started. Instead of—”

  Willa Ree hit him. With the side of his hand, he hit him. He stuck the handkerchief-wrapped gun in his coat pocket with his right hand and hit Wesley with the left, across the bridge of the nose.

  Wesley staggered. He shook his head, and then he rushed, arms flailing wildly.

  Willa Ree caught one of the arms, stoope
d, and sent the man over his back to plop flat on the asphalt of the street.

  He waited for Wesley to get his breath and said, “Get up.”

  Wesley groaned.

  Willa Ree kicked him in the ribs, not too hard. “Get up.”

  “I can’t.” The words were blurred, thick, mouthy.

  Ree kicked him again. “Get up, I said.”

  Wesley groaned.

  Another kick, harder, and Ree snapped, “Get up. Now!”

  Wesley scrambled up. He stood with hands palm up, foolishly looking for gravel cuts.

  Willa Ree shoved him. “Start walking.”

  Their progress was slow. Wesley blubbered a bit before switching to blustery threats. “You’ll get yours for this, Ree! Tomorrow’s another day, and you’ll get yours! Tomorrow you’ll be up before the county attorney, you cold-blooded bastard! Wait’ll I tell him....”

  Willa Ree kicked him. Wesley’s back arched and he was forced to trot, grotesquely, to keep from falling.

  “Keep your mouth shut and keep walking,” Ree warned.

  “I’ll kill you for—” His words ended in a sharp thin cry as Ree rabbit-punched him. He staggered forward, fell to his knees, and shook his head. His breath was raspy.

  “Where’s the dough?”

  “You’ll never find it! I’m telling you, you won’t find it and this won’t get you anywhere!”

  A car turned the corner, lights stabbing at the darkness. Willa Ree caught Wesley by the arm and helped him to his feet. He slid an arm around his throat to choke off a yell, but the car passed and Wesley made no attempt to move or call.

  “They think you’re drunk, Wesley.”

  The car was gone.

  “Get moving,” Ree said.

  Laura opened the door at his knock. She gasped.

  “Accident?”

  “Sort of, sweet. This guy is about to have a serious accident.”

  He pushed Wesley inside and closed the door.

  “What’s happened?” Laura asked.

  Willa Ree backed off. He swished a right to Wesley’s chin, and the man crumbled to the floor.

  Laura screamed.

  “Shut up!”

  “But what’s he done? Why’d you hit him?”

  “None of your business! You sit down over there and be quiet! Stay out of the way!”

  The girl bent over Wesley. “You get out of here, Ree! Get out and stay out, you hear? There won’t be any rough stuff in my house—”

  He backhanded her across the face, saw blood ooze from a split lip. She sat down on the couch, breathing hard. He bent down to look at Wesley and saw the man’s eyelids flutter.

  “Faking!” He kicked Wesley in the ribs savagely. “Come on, get up!”

  Laura came unwound, arms flying and hair flying and hands clawing, but he pushed her away and she fell sprawling on the floor.

  Wesley was standing, arms clasped over his belly.

  “I’ll give you one more chance to talk,” Ree said.

  Wesley spat.

  He caught Wesley’s coat, held him close, and belted his fist to the chin. Wesley’s legs folded. He was out. Ree let him fall.

  “Well,” he said, “that’s one tough cop—”

  The lights brightened blindingly, went out for an instant, came on not so brightly and dimmed. He felt himself stagger and knew the girl had hit him with something.

  She had a beer bottle in her hand and she was stalking him. He backed away, hands outthrust, and felt blood trickle on his forehead.

  “Put it down, baby,” he coaxed. “Put it down or I’ll hurt you. Now, I don’t want to have to hurt you, sweet, so put it down.”

  She swung but he backed away, and the bottle struck only his hand.

  “Don’t do that again, sweet,” he said. “Don’t do that...”

  She swiped at him and he was too slow. The bottle hit his wrist. It hurt like hell, and his hand went numb.

  “Get out of here!” the girl said. “Get out or I’ll kill you!” Her teeth were clenched, nostrils dilated and fluttery, and her eyes glared through strands of hair.

  “I’ll go,” he said.

  “You go now, you thieving murdering coward!”

  “Take it easy, now,” Ree said. “O.K., take it easy. I’ll get out. I said I’d go.” He headed for the door, angling away from the girl. “What about him?” he asked, pointing at Wesley.

  Her eyes flicked to Wesley and he moved in. She was too slow, and he caught the bottle with one hand, slapped her with the other. The sound of his palm smacked loud against her cheek. He gave her a knuckle, and the force of the blow twisted her head. Again he slapped, and again and again. Anger surged and he hated her, suddenly he hated her, and his hand turned into a fist.

  Anger was gone. Fire was ashes and anger was gone. He watched her slump to the floor, half conscious, blubbery and limp.

  “Don’t try that again, honey,” he said. His breath was dry against his throat and he felt tired. “Don’t ever do a thing like that again! You don’t know what’s going on, see, and I can’t tell you right now! Just take it easy and I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see. You just wait and see.”

  Wesley stirred and moaned.

  Ree dug a toe into the man’s ribs. “Get up,” he said.

  Wesley only moaned.

  Ree had to kick him again. He kicked until he was tired.

  “Open your bright little eyes, Wesley. I know you’re awake. Open your eyes and talk, or I’ll break every bone in your body!”

  “You’re wasting your time, Ree.” Blood stained Wesley’s teeth and dribbled over his chin. “You shouldn’t have brought me here, chum, because now you’ll have to slow down. She’s a witness and she’ll talk if you go too far.” He laughed, weakly. “She’s not what you thought, eh, Ree? Not what—”

  Willa Ree caught his coat and pulled him up. He stepped back, allowing the man to stand alone, swaying. He waited until Wesley’s eyes came into focus.

  Wesley’s face was a mess. The nose was flattened and the lips puffed out, cut, and blood came from the tongue or the cheek, and from the lips. More blood dribbled from a gash over the right eye, and from a cut on the right cheek.

  “You got anything to tell me, Wesley?”

  Wesley spat in his face.

  Ree slapped him. Once, twice, backhanded, and again.

  “Feel like talking now?”

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  Ree slapped again. Wesley’s head swiveled, and he staggered.

  “You going to talk?”

  Swaying, breathing hard, Wesley didn’t reply. He looked from Willa Ree to the girl.

  He chopped Wesley in the stomach, and Wesley doubled over, retching.

  Laura screamed.

  Willa Ree walked over to the couch. “I said be quiet, sweet,” he said and slapped her.

  Wesley sat up, brushing blood off his chin with the back of his hand.

  “You get up and wash your face, honey,” Ree said to Laura.

  She sat up, tossing back her hair and feeling her face with tender fingers!

  “You’re going to live, honey. Your face is a mess and it’ll be worse tomorrow. But you’ll live.”

  “I’ll kill you,” she said.

  His words mocked her. “I don’t think so. I might buy you a coat. Or a car. Wesley, our friend here, Wesley, might decide to give me a present so I can buy nice things for you. Isn’t that right, Wesley?”

  “He’ll kill me,” Wesley told the girl.

  “Oh, no,” Ree said. “I’ll take you home. Come on, chum. I’ve had enough exercise for tonight.”

  “He’ll kill me,” Wesley said again.

  “Come along, Wesley.”

  Wesley shook his head, slinging small, bright droplets of blood.

  “You coming?”

  “No,” Wesley said. “You go along, Ree. I’ll take myself home.”

  Willa Ree chuckled.

  “I couldn’t let you do that. You’re in no condition to
drive and you’re not able to walk. Come along and I’ll drive you home.”

  “You’ll kill me.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m no fool.”

  “Yes, you are, Ree. You’re a fool and a killer.” Wesley’s voice was matter of fact. “You’re a sadist and you’re nuts, plain nuts.”

  “Get up.”

  Wesley shook his head.

  Laura spoke. “You go along, Ree. I’ll call a cab for him.”

  “I couldn’t let you go to all that trouble, Laura. Besides, the cabbie would wonder what happened to Wesley. In your apartment, too. Why, he might even call the police!”

  “I’ll risk that.”

  “Well, it’s noble of you, sweet, but I can’t let you do it. I just wouldn’t feel right about it. No, I think I’d better take Wesley home. After all, I brought him here.”

  “You go on and leave him alone,” Laura said, “or I’ll call the police.”

  “You’ll keep your mouth shut, honey! You’ll keep your mouth shut and your nose out of my business! You’re going to forget everything that happened here tonight! Or do you want me to play rough with you again?”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Wouldn’t I?” He walked across the room and slapped her again, not hard. “Wouldn’t I, sweet?”

  She rubbed her cheek. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, you would.”

  “O.K.” He turned to Wesley. “You ready?”

  “I told you,” Wesley said. “I’m not going. If you’re going to kill me you’ll have to do it here.”

  Ree caught him by the hair and pulled. Wesley fought back, weakly and clumsily, but he was pulled to his knees.

  “Are you coming, Wesley?”

  “No.”

  “You want it here? You want me to rough Laura up some more?”

  “Leave her alone, Ree. Leave the girl alone and I’ll go.” Wesley turned to the girl. “Shake clear of this guy, girlie. For your own good, shake clear.” He staggered to the door, leaned against it.

  “Listen,” Laura said. “Listen to me, Ree! Tomorrow I’ll do some checking up! This man better be around!”

  Ree shrugged. He helped Wesley down the steps, across the yard, into the car. Wesley slumped against the door, head back against the cushions, breath coming ragged and fast.

  Wesley was scared, scared stiff.

  Well, hell, why not? I would be, too, in his shoes. But I wouldn’t be in his shoes because no man is big enough to slap me around like that and, anyway, if anyone could or did I’d fess up and give him the money....