I Hear They Burn for Murder

by J L Aarne

  Rainer nudged his pack of cigarettes down the railing toward him and Caleb took one and lit it. “You heard that yelling?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Rainer said.

  “Dad got out of jail,” Caleb said. He sighed, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Mom hasn’t stopped crying all day. He won’t leave her alone. When he ain’t being a son of a bitch to her, he’s… well.”

  Rainer looked at his face more closely. The darkness beneath Caleb’s eyes was makeup, but the spot on his brow ridge wasn’t. It was a bruise.

  “He’s not supposed to be here,” Caleb said. He shook his head and said again, softly but fiercely, “He’s not supposed to be here.”

  “Is your mother all right?” Rainer asked.

  “He didn’t do nothing but yell at her,” Caleb said. “I’m sorry about the yelling though.”

  Rainer shrugged. “When did he get out?”

  “About a week ago, I guess,” Caleb said. “They called to let us know he was getting out, said he’d be staying at one of them halfway houses. So I figured it was okay. He’s been gone for years. Why would he want to come back here? He don’t give a shit about her. He don’t give a shit about me for sure. Except I think maybe he wants to kill me.”

  Little boy Caleb had stabbed his wife beating father with a paring knife to protect his mother. Then he had called the cops and had him arrested. He said he didn’t remember that part, but the police had a recording. He had been hit pretty hard in the head and suffered a mild concussion from the backhanded blow his father had delivered, so a little memory glitch was understandable. His father probably did want to kill him. Rainer found this to be unacceptable.

  “He blames you for it,” Rainer said.

  “Of course he fucking does,” Caleb said bitterly.

  “You did what you had to do,” Rainer said. “Are you going to be okay with him here again?”

  “I don’t know,” Caleb said.

  Caleb would not ask Rainer for help. Since he was a little boy, he had never outright asked Rainer for his help and Rainer thought maybe it had something to do with men and Caleb’s issues with father figures and male role models. If he didn’t ask, if he didn’t depend on them, he would never owe them and they could never betray him or let him down. Rainer was the only male role model Caleb Carver LaRoche had had since his piece of shit father was taken away in cuffs and locked up. He never had to ask.

  The apartment door opened and a man’s voice shouted Caleb’s name. “Who the hell is that? Get your ass back in here, boy. Your mom’s crying and calling for you.”

  Rainer turned to look Caleb’s father over, sizing him up, and he watched suspicion creep into the man’s eyes. There was a mad, sick, darkly gleeful intelligence looking back at him from those eyes. It made Rainer smile.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded of Rainer.

  Caleb was embarrassed and ducked his head. “I gotta go,” he said.

  “Who the hell are you to ask who the hell am I?” Rainer asked.

  “I’m Lance LaRoche and that’s my son. You trying to fuck my kid, faggot?”

  Rainer raised an incredulous eyebrow and looked past Lance at Caleb’s hunched shoulders as he slunk away back into the apartment. That was an odd conclusion to come to after seeing Rainer talking to his son. It said a lot about Lance. He didn’t like Lance, he decided. He hadn’t liked Lance to begin with but he was genuinely coming to dislike him the longer he was in his presence.

  “I find it difficult to imagine you would genuinely care if I bent your son over this railing and fucked him before God and everyone in residence,” Rainer said mildly. “But as it happens, I have no interest in doing any such thing. Lance.”

  Lance’s eyes widened and he took an aggressive step toward Rainer. Something made him stop though. Maybe the idea of hitting Rainer wasn’t as appealing to him as hitting his wife and kid. Maybe he worried that hitting Rainer would get his ass sent back to prison.

  Rainer looked the man over and watched him become both angrier and uncomfortable under his dispassionate gaze. Caleb got most of his good looks from his father it seemed. His eyes were his mother’s and perhaps she had been attractive once, but no more. Lance though, while a complete bastard, was a very good looking man.

  “I bet they loved you in prison,” Rainer said.

  “You motherfucker,” Lance snarled, and swung.

  Rainer had been expecting it and he sidestepped the punch. Lance’s wild swinging momentum overbalanced him and he stumbled. While he was recovering, Rainer walked back into his apartment and closed the door.

  It was half an hour later while he was watching a rerun of Law & Order that he realized Caleb had taken his cigarettes. He didn’t mind, he had more. Or so he thought until he went to get a pack from the carton he kept in the freezer and found the box empty. Annoyed, he crushed the carton, tossed it in the trash and walked outside, intending to drive down the street to the Conoco for more.

  The black car was still sitting there and Rainer stopped and stared at it. He didn’t like it. It might be a perfectly harmless sedan with tinted windows belonging to a visitor of some neighbor of his, but he knew it wasn’t. It was Mr. FBI Man himself.

  Rainer went back inside and slammed the door. Then he walked through the apartment to the big window at the end of the hallway, opened it and stuck his head out to peer down the fire escape. Rainer climbed out the window and pulled it closed behind him, leaving enough space for his fingers so he could open it again and get back inside. Then he went down the metal staircase to the ground and started across the empty lot behind the building.

  He didn’t mind Ezekiel Herod sitting in his car outside his apartment in the middle of the night, but he didn’t want him following him to the store. It wasn’t rational, fine, but it was still true.

  The Conoco was only a few blocks from his apartment. It took him less than ten minutes to walk there. The kid behind the counter who sold him his Pal Malls didn’t look old enough to legally smoke himself. Rainer also bought a bag of frosted animal crackers. Thomas would have been disgusted.

  He opened the pack of cigarettes, balled up the receipt and nearly bumped heads with Agent Herod when he turned to leave. Rainer blinked at him in surprise and took a step back.

  Ezekiel smiled. His head was down, he watched Rainer through lowered lashes, his expression pleased and positively mischievous as their eyes met. “Nice evening, isn’t it, Mr. Bryssengur?”

  Rainer glared at him. “Are you following me, Agent Herod?”

  Ezekiel took a hand from behind his back to show him a Snickers candy bar. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said.

  “Uh-huh,” Rainer said.

  He didn’t believe him, of course. He also didn’t like being surprised and for just a moment Ezekiel had caught him off guard.

  He took a cigarette from the pack he’d opened and put it in his mouth. When Ezekiel produced a lighter from his pocket and offered him a light, he looked at him over the flame, but he leaned over to accept it.

  “So, I’m going your way. Would you like a ride home?” Ezekiel asked.

  I just bet you are going my way, Rainer thought. “I’ll walk, thank you,” he said.

  Ezekiel shrugged and tossed his candy bar on the counter. “Suit yourself,” he said.

  Rainer watched the boy behind the counter ring up Ezekiel’s candy, caught Ezekiel watching him with that same knowing smile and walked out of the store to the sound of the irritatingly cheerful door buzzer. He could feel Ezekiel’s eyes on him as he crossed the parking lot. A minute later, he realized that he was following him and glanced around.

  Ezekiel bit off a piece of candy and ate it. “I thought I’d walk with you. This town’s dangerous at night.”

  Rainer sighed and slowed down for Ezekiel to catch up and walk beside him. “What about your car?”

  “I’ll walk back for it,” he said.

  “You’re not afraid something will happen if you’re alone?” Rainer was teas
ing him. Neither of them was afraid of the dark or the dangers of walking home alone in it.

  “I carry a gun,” Ezekiel said.

  They walked in silence for a little while. Rainer finished his cigarette and opened the bag of animal crackers. He offered it to Ezekiel, who took one; a pink elephant.

  “What are you really doing here, Agent?” Rainer asked.

  Ezekiel ate the cracker and smiled. “I thought you knew that already,” he said.

  Rainer ate a cracker. “How would I know that?” he said.

  “Okay, so it’s going to be like that,” Ezekiel said.

  Rainer shrugged, smiling to himself and ate another cracker. They were almost to the apartment building and he stepped off the sidewalk to cross the lot and go around the back. Ezekiel followed him.

  They reached the fire escape and Rainer turned and stood there, looking at him thoughtfully. Ezekiel looked back and smiled and Rainer caught a responding smile forming on his own lips.

  Ezekiel put a hand on the fire escape rail and leaned toward him and Rainer didn’t step back from him this time. He looked down into his face and met his eyes which seemed to catch the light and shine in the dark. There was a hum of tension between them that was palpable. He imagined if he reached out to touch Ezekiel, his hand would meet some kind of tingling resistance first, just there in the space between them.

  “What kind of game is this?” Ezekiel asked.

  Rainer laughed softly, put his hand on the rail with Ezekiel’s and leaned a fraction closer to him, looking for the shine of moonlight on his pupils. “Don’t you know?” he asked. “We’re playing Murder in the Dark, Agent. That old party game.”

  He knew the game Rainer meant. A bunch of people in a room, one victim, one killer, one detective. The detective asks everyone questions to learn the identity of the killer and everyone has to tell the truth. Except the killer. The killer can lie.

  Ezekiel grinned. “Which one of us is the liar?” he asked.

  Rainer tipped his head a little. They were very close and he remembered kissing Ezekiel. He wondered if Ezekiel was thinking about that, too, but he didn’t ask. He said, “Which one of us isn’t? That’s the real question.”

  Rainer backed up the fire escape steps, then turned and quickly ascended the stairs to his window. As he worked his fingers into the open crack and slid the window up, he thought he heard purring. Pogo had gotten over his upset about the remodeled apartment, he decided. Except he found Pogo still sleeping on the back of the sofa when he returned to the living room and the cat was not purring at all.

  Chapter 17

  Ezekiel continued to follow Rainer in his spare time. He would park his car at the curb near the building or across the street. He audited his classes and was sitting in the front row in the seat nearest the door Monday morning, taking notes while Rainer read Death and the Lady, Porphyria’s Lover and The Daemon Lover and the class discussed. Tuesday, he once again attended interpreting lit and Rainer had no reason to believe the man would not also be there at two o’clock that afternoon for beginning creative writing.

  Rainer wondered what he hoped to gain from it, but it didn’t really bother him that much. Ezekiel still had a job to do which meant he inevitably got pulled away to work sometimes and Rainer went most of the day without seeing him at all. The little bit he did see him pleased him more than anything. If Ezekiel thought to deter him from killing by putting the fear of God and the FBI into him, he was doomed to be disappointed. Rainer had no immediate plans to murder anyone, but Ezekiel only made the prospect more appealing and exiting, not less.

  He had lunch at a coffee shop close to the university. He ordered an espresso, took a table in a corner and settled in to read. He was in the middle of the first Dexter novel by Jeff Lindsey and enjoying it quite a lot. He had no interest in watching the TV show, but the book was entertaining and funny.

  A couple sat at the table next to his by the window and started having awkward first date conversation. They ordered coffee drinks and pastries and Rainer glanced up. The man was attractive in a good old boy sort of way that made him not very interesting, but the girl was extremely pretty and she had about her the je ne sais quoi of breeding and money.

  Rainer watched them interact for a minute, but when their drinks arrived, he returned his attention to his book. Distantly he heard the man at the next table say, “I’m really glad you finally agreed to meet me. When we talked online, I don’t know… it felt so right. Didn’t you think so?”

  “Uh. Sure. I mean, you’re really nice,” the girl said. “I’m still not really convinced about this whole online dating thing though. I know everyone does it and it’s totally normal these days, but…”

  “No, hey, I know what you mean,” the guy said. “You hear all these stories about how bad it can be. I get it. But I’m not like that, I swear.”

  “Well, you do look like your picture,” the girl said.

  Rainer drank his coffee. He summoned the waitress over and ordered another one, then reread the page he had been staring at for the last five minutes because he had lost his concentration.

  “I’ll take you to this French restaurant I know. They have great food and it takes forever to get reservations, but I know a guy who works in the kitchen,” the guy at the next table was saying.

  “I don’t really like French food,” his date said. She was sitting turned a little to the side in her chair, her lovely tanned legs crossed, small espresso cup lifted carefully to her mouth, saucer balanced in her other hand. She looked bored.

  “Everyone likes French food,” the man said dismissively.

  “I don’t,” the girl insisted. She set her cup down.

  “Then you have never had good French food. We’ll go, how about Friday?” he said. “You’ll love it.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Look, it’s been really nice meeting you, Curtis, but this isn’t going to work.”

  “What do you mean?” Curtis said.

  “I don’t think we have that much in common. It’s really not working for me,” she said.

  “I think we have a lot in common,” Curtis said. “We talked for weeks online.”

  “We emailed a few times,” the girl said.

  “I don’t understand,” he insisted. “I just want to take you out on a real date, show you a good time and—Wait. Are you one of those girls who doesn’t eat or something? Is it because of the French food?”

  She sighed. “I eat, but sure. It’s probably got something to do with the French food.”

  “We can go somewhere else,” Curtis said. “How about Thai food? Do you like Thai food? There’s a little place over on—”

  “Curtis, I’m sorry, but I am not interested,” she said. “You’re a nice man and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but there’s just no chemistry here.”

  There was dead silence at their table for a couple of minutes and Rainer put his book down to drink his espresso before it went cold. Curtis’s face was turning red. The girl opened her purse, took a ten from her wallet and placed it on the table to pay for her coffee and her untouched Danish.

  “You fucking bitch,” Curtis said.

  She froze and stared at him across the table in surprise. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, you fucking bitch,” Curtis said. “Rich fucking bitch. You’re all the same, you rich bitch bitches.”

  The girl pressed her lips together, expression going from calm and bored to coldly furious with a swiftness that Rainer could only admire. It put rosy color on her cheeks and made her green eyes flash.

  “I’m not breaking up with you, Curtis. We hardly know each other,” she said. “I don’t think we’re suited for each other and it’s got nothing to do with money and everything to do with your attitude, you fucking troglodyte.”

  People were staring at them. Then the young woman stood to leave, braced her hand on the table as she got up and Curtis grabbed her wrist.

  “I’m not done talking to you,” he
said.

  “Oh, yes, you are,” she said. “Get your hand off me right now.”

  He didn’t let her go, but stood up still holding onto her wrist. The girl tried to yank free, but he held on.

  Rainer stood and walked over to them. “The lady asked you to let her go,” he said.

  Curtis looked around at him and glared. “Mind your own goddamn business, buddy.”

  Rainer stepped between them, took Curtis’s wrist and squeezed. He winced, the pressure point there sending shooting pain up to his shoulder. His fingers opened and she pulled her arm away and held it against her chest. Rainer gave Curtis’s wrist a last, painful squeeze before throwing his hand back at him. He stumbled back, grabbed the back of the chair, cursing him. He did not attempt to grab or hit Rainer though.

  Like good old Lance, Curtis was a coward deep down.

  “You stupid fucking whore. I’m a nice guy!” Curtis shouted.

  “You need to leave,” Rainer said, stepping into his space. “Now.”

  Curtis backed down. “You want her, you can fucking have her, asshole,” he said.

  He went by Rainer, deliberately bumping against him and slammed out the door. The little bell over the door gave a happy tinkle at his departure.

  The people in the coffee shop who had been watching things unfold clapped.

  “Thank you so much,” the girl said to him. “God, what a creep. That’s what I get for trying online dating I guess.” She offered him her hand. “I’m Eden. You just saved my life I think.”

  Rainer accepted her hand. “Rainer,” he said. “I think I mostly spared your dignity.”

  “I don’t know. He was getting physical about it,” she said. “Anyway, thanks. You want to sit down?”

  Rainer took the seat recently vacated by Curtis and Eden sat back down across from him. A waitress brought them fresh coffee, cleared Rainer’s old table and returned his book to him, all while smiling at him. He had just done a heroic deed; he was well aware of it.