by K Elliott
When Echo saw the man lying still on the ground he stopped running. Echo was blowing hard, too, but he could have kept running. The damn shoes had him frustrated. As he slowly closed the distance he said, “I ain’t mad at you for running, but I’mma beat your ass for kicking me.” Echo walked al the way up to Vincent and kicked him dead in the ass with the top of his dress shoe.
Vincent squirmed and grunted then rolled over on his back. “If you’re not a federal agent, what the hell do you want with me?”
Echo kneeled down and punched the man in the mouth, busting his lip and forcing a tooth loose. He gripped Vincent by the hair on the top of his head, and punched him in the mouth again. He watched as Vincent spat the tooth out with bloody spittle. Echo’s hand was cut at the knuckle. He pulled it back and tried to shake the sting away. “I got what the fuck I want from you.” He pulled some clear latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them on. He retrieved an empty medicine bottle from another pocket and secured the bloody tooth inside it.
Vincent said, “You think you could beat me like that if I wasn’t in these handcuffs?” Echo smiled at him. “You want me to take the cuffs off and find out?”
“Yeah. Show me.”
Echo turned him over on his stomach. He grabbed the small chain between the cuffs and pulled on it. He got up and tried to pull the handcuffs off of Vincent, hurting the man’s wrists, arms and shoulders.
Vincent tried to rise to his feet and relieve the pain and pressure but he could not get his balance. Echo let him drop to the ground again. “They won’t come off, and my partner got the keys.” Vincent was sore all over but he still said, “Just what I thought.”
“Oh, you one of them tough-ass white boys.” Echo pulled up a pant leg and produced a black handgun. “You on that mixed martial arts shit?” He leaned forward and pressed the end of the barrel against Vincent’s neck. “I’mma take the cuffs off because I don’t need you anymore. I got your DNA now. But if you still wanna fight I’mma squeeze one off your head and drag you 150 yards deeper in this jungle.”
FIFTEEN
Donald Newring entered his home at 10:22p.m. and placed a bag of groceries on his kitchen table. He thought he’d heard a noise coming from another room so he grabbed a long butcher knife out of a kitchen drawer. “Is anybody there?”
Brian popped around the corner aiming an AK-47 assault rifle. The gun was operable and loaded but it was mainly for show. People are known to try shit with a handgun pointed at them; the AK-47 kept their minds on caskets and tombstones. “Put the knife down, or I’mma show you how to really cut some shit in half. With this, I can shoot through you, that wall and still shut that loud-ass dog up in the backyard.”
Donald tossed the knife into the sink. “What can I do for you?”
“Take your clothes off. All of them. Get ass-naked.” Brian wore clear latex gloves and athletic gear. He wore a skull cap and a hooded sweat shirt. Echo appeared behind Brian and said, “Nothing. No evidence of anything.” He had on latex gloves, too, and was dressed the same as Brian.
“Nah, he’s a smart ass. He’s too slick for that. Keep watch at the front room window; I don’t want to be surprised by a visitor.”
Donald was still coming out of his clothes. The tall, 25-year-old white man wanted to ask questions but decided against it.
Brian said, “Somebody gave me a criminal profile on people like you, so I already know you’re gonna blame everything on your past.” Donald stood naked on his kitchen floor now, his clothes al around his feet.
Brian aimed the AK-47 at Donald’s droopy dick. “That little shit ever get hard for an old woman?”
And now Donald knew what this was about, but he didn’t know why these two black men would be interested in the cases. “Old women don’t turn me on.”
“Sure they do, and you even enjoy having your sadistic ways with them. But tonight will be different. My partner is going to make sure you stay passive while I shove the barrel of this rifle up your ass. Then I’mma make you clean it off with your lying-ass mouth. If you refuse or get the job half done I’m shooting your fuckin arms off at the elbows and your legs off at the knees. Then, I’m calling the ambulance before I leave.”
“Please tell me there’s some other way we can work this out.”
Brian said, “Oh there’s always Door Number 2.” He pulled at a digital recorder and placed it on the kitchen table. “I got some friends at the FBI and they’re kind of slow. Sometimes they’re too eager to solve a case, so they don’t always pay attention to the right thing. Tel them how you tricked them with the cigarette and the soda can.”
Donald hesitated.
“Okay, now, when this barrel goes up your ass I won’t let you cop a plea. I’m leaving with plenty of your DNA, so you might as worn save your asshole all that trouble.”
“Alright. It’s true. I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t...use that gun. You can even take me to jail tonight.”
SIXTEEN
“...I was a dishwasher back then and was also bussing tables. I know the Feds were still watching me because I refused to give them my DNA. They were
sloppy, and I even saw the vehicle they were in, and I watched them through the peephole of the restaurant’s back door. They were in the parking lot of a plaza.” Donald’s naked ass was sitting in a kitchen chair now.
Brian said, “Back to the evidence.”
“So I bussed a few tables and took a break. The lit cigarette came from the bar and the soda can belonged to the same person. When I went out back, as if I was taking a break, I actually drank the rest of the soda, but I never let the can touch my mouth. It was close, but I knew those yellow gloves would help obstruct the Fed’s view.”
Brian said, “And your lips never touched the cigarette. You were cupping the cigarette with a glove, and it looks to me that your mouth may have even touched the glove.”
“Well, I had to inhale deeply and fast just to get the lip to glow for the camera, so my fingers were piping the butt of the cigarette. I knew they would come for the items once I threw them away. I watched them through the peephole again from inside the building.”
“Their sloppiness made you look like a genius.”
Donald said, “How did you figure it al out? What agency are you with?” “God sent me. Now tell me why you would do an old person like that.”
Donald wanted to talk to the gunman at this point because he left relieved, unburdened. And he thought his story would be important enough for a text book one day. “I lived with my great grandmother because my parents didn’t want me. She used to beat me all the time.”
“Your great grandmother?”
“Yeah. Her. And she used to make me get undressed first, just like you did. Sometimes she wouldn’t even tell me what I was being beat for. And every time I would see old ladies I would imagine them beating on me with belts and other leather straps.”
“I suppose your great grandmother is dead now, and you probably killed her.”
Donald shook his head. “She’s dead but I didn’t kill her. She died when I was eleven, and we were in a car accident. But as I got older I hated myself for not being the one to kill her.”
“Uhm,..hm. So you took it out on other old women.”
“Sometimes different old ladies still beat me in my dreams. Not often, though. And when I dominate an old lady in real life, they don’t show up in any dreams for a while.”
Brian looked around the corner and waved Echo back to the kitchen. Then, he said to Donald, “Stand up. My partner will need a DNA sample from you.” Echo entered the kitchen and walked up to Donald. He grabbed a wad of the man’s pubic hairs and snatched them out at the roots.
Donald shouted something intelligible then clamped both hands down in a futile effort to mask the pain. Blood was running down his legs and the injury brought water to his eyes.
Echo stepped back and placed the hair in a Zip-lock bag. He passed it to Brian, then removed a small nasal spray bottle from his pocket
. Brian had no idea what the hell Echo was up to.
Echo walked up to Donald again. “Open your goddamn mouth, boy.”
Donald reluctantly opened his mouth.
Echo sprayed an odorous mist in the man’s mouth, something with a strong stench.
Donald quickly turned away. “Aww, God, is that a poison?”
Echo kept spraying his face and said, “Hold your muthafuckin head still.”
Brian smiled, because the whole kitchen smelled like piss now. He knew it was puppy piss.
SEVENTEEN
At seven 7:00a.m. Special Agent Wade Bruins called the home of a federal magistrate judge and applied for an emergency warrant for Donald Newring’s
residence. He’d told the judge that after reviewing the old surveillance video, he’d concluded that Donald may have duped the investigators with the discarded evidence. Wade had explained it all just as Teresa had described it to him. Wade had also told the judge that a DNA sample from Newring was necessary because he was a danger and a threat, particularly to senior citizens.
The judge denied the warrant. No warrant was issued to obtain Newring’s DNA four years ago, and the judge hadn’t heard anything to suggest that Wade might be guilty of a felony. There was no legal basis to compel the suspect to give a DNA sample.
Brian arrived at an iHop in Huntington, West Virginia, and met Teresa at a table. A waiter took their orders and was gone.
Teresa said, “Wade can’t get a warrant. The judge said duping the Feds ain’t a crime. So now Wade will have to keep Donald under surveillance until he discards some more items for testing. The samples you have are no good because we can’t justify how we obtained them. Plus, if they get a match in CODIS there’s no way to stop the entire FBI from knowing that the killer has been found.”
Brian said, “Damn. We got another problem, then. We left Donald in his house ass-naked and handcuffed to the motor in the back of his refrigerator. His ankles are cuffed to the door handle of his oven. It’s awkward, but...”
“Brian, why the fuck would you do something like that? How can Wade keep an eye on the man if he’s locked up in his own house?”
“Wait a minute. Calm your ass down, Teresa. First of all, I don’t give a fuck about no Wade. I did this as a favor to you. Second of al, stupid ass Wade should have figured out how to get a warrant and get inside that house. And third of all, Donald confessed to everything and he knows he’s going to prison. I didn’t want the muthafucka committing suicide to get out of all this shit.”
She was silent for a moment. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off like that.”
“No, you meant to come off like that; you’re just used to doing it to men who will let you run shit. When I’m in a relationship I don’t run anything and I don’t let the woman run a damn thing.”
Teresa said, “Well this is news to me, especially since I didn’t know we were in a relationship.”
Brian stared at her. “Didn’t we fuck?”
is that what we did? I thought we made love.”
“Fuck, make love, I don’t care what you call it. We had to relate to each other in order to do that.” This time he fell silent.
“took, I said I was sorry. Can we start over?”
EIGHTEEN
They were eating pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Teresa said, “What’s bothering you, Brian? Was the Jennison case the tipping point?” “Don’t you have to be at work in another forty-five minutes?”
“My shift starts at ten, not nine. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Brian ate more pancakes and stalled. Finally he said, “I miss my daughter and I miss her mother.”
“You’ve done more than enough here. Go home and see your daughter. As for the loss of her mom, that’s just something you’ll have to let time heal.”
Brian shook his head. “I don’t want to visit my daughter; I want to be home with her every night. Instead, I’m out in the streets inflicting my own brand of punishment on murderers and nutcakes who violate elderly women in the worst way. Most of the time I think I’m doing a good thing, but I’m just a criminal too.”
“Listen,” she said. “Take some time off. Spend a whole month with your daughter and just travel. If you still feel the urge to help solve cases, there will still be plenty to choose from.”
Brian started thinking about UCASTU, the advocacy group, but he jumped on a totally different subject. “Can you stop fucking Desmond?” “What?” She heard him clearly, but that was just a natural response. “And what am I suppose to do about sex when I want it?”
“The same thing I do, hold off. You can come see me or I can visit you.”
She laughed. “Brian, I’m forty-seven, two decades older than you. How long is this going to last?”
He looked at her as if she had just cursed him out. “Forget it. Just keep doing what you do.”
“I don’t want to forget it.”
“I don’t give a damn if you don’t; I’m through with it.”
She dropped her fork and leaned back in her chair. “You’re acting like a child now.”
He kept eating and still said, “That shouldn’t bother you since you’re old enough to be my mom.”
“But I’m not your fucking mom and you’re starting to annoy me with your funky-ass attitude.”
He pushed his plate away and looked up at her. “Let me make this crystal clear to you.” He retrieved twenty dollars from his wallet and placed it on the table. “Fuck you, Teresa.” Then, he got up and walked out of the restaurant.
When Brian reached his Durango, he got inside, threw his head back against the headrest, and stared at the interior roof. He relaxed himself into a stupor after a minute, and wasn’t aware of anything going on around him. Then, a knock on his driver’s window brought him back to earth.
Teresa opened his door and said, “I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting, and I should have been more sensitive. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a soul mate to death, and I was fortunate enough to be able to come home to my son every night as he was growing up.”
Brian said, “I’m sorry, too. I was wrong for coming off on you.”
“There’s no future for us together. We’re twenty years apart. We should just enjoy the moment while it last.” He sighed but said nothing.
“Come here.” She hugged him when he leaned closer. “Thank you for your brilliant work on the case.”
“I’ll call the cops and tell them I heard screams and a gun shot in Newring’s house last night, and that no one has left the home since. The cops will go inside and find him handcuffed and injured. There’s lots of blood in the kitchen. Tell Wade to be ready in two hours.”
NINETEEN
Brian was at home. He was sitting in his den eating a bowl of cereal and watching CNN. He would pick his daughter up later, but right now he was waiting on Echo to arrive. He made a few phone calls, one to his investment banker, and by the time he was done, Echo was closing his front door.
Echo entered the den and slouched on the sofa. “What’s up?”
“Why did you do it, Echo?”
“Do what?”
“You know what the fuck I’m talking about! The police went inside Newring’s house and found that he was stabbed to death with a butcher’s knife. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Echo sat up and said, “Time out. Hold up. Fuck Newring. You got a crazy-ass muthafucka running around killing old women, fuckin them in the ass, and pissing on them. Now you shouting ‘cause he’s dead?”
“No, muthafucka, I’m shouting ‘cause you killed him. That ain’t what we in the business to do.”
“You’re right. We’re in the business to solve cases and make money,” Echo said. “We solved the case, but we didn’t make no damn money. But I’m cool. Smashing Newring was good enough payment for me.”
“You didn’t get paid, so is that suppose to justify killing him? I can pay you your twenty percent, if that’s what you want.”
Echo said, “Didn’t you
hear what I just said? When I stabbed the shit out of Newring, that was my payment. I done made over a hundred grand fuckin with you in just a few weeks. I’m straight.”
“Now your ass ain’t making sense. You don’t need the money, but you crying about working a case for free. Just say you stabbed the man ‘cause you wanted to. Don’t be making up a bunch of blushed.”
“Okay, I stabbed me a goddamn psycho because I wanted to. So? The muthafucka was gonna sit on death row for ten or fifteen years and get killed anyway. I saved somebody some tax dollars.”
Brian shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Karrice talk me into bringing you into this type of work.”
Echo leaned forward. “Let me make sure I understand this. We can kidnap people, steal a hundred grand from their safe, beat the dog shit out of them, and kill five people in a Mexican gang. But if I kill the worse muthafucka I ever came across, that means I ain’t a good guy no more?”
Brian’s cell phone rang. “What’s up, Marissa?”
“Good news and bad news,” she said. “The committee for UCASTU will not be using Godsend. That’s the bad news.”
“I didn’t think they would,” Brian said.
“The good news is Angel Brookshire, the head of UCASTU, says she will personally recommend Godsend to members who may be able to afford us.”
“That sounds good. But, look, cal me back. I’m in the middle of something.” When he ended the cal he said, “Echo, me and you are involved in a murder now. I don’t give a fuck how terrible Newring was, the cops will still want to know who killed him. A judge will sentence us as if two black men killed a white man. That’s it— nothing else to it.”
Echo leaned back. “I fucked up, Brian, but just looking at that muthafucka got me fire-hot, knowing what he did.” “So how do I know you won’t kill another muthafucka on another case?”
