Thrill Kill

by Don Bruns

  ‘He’ll be harder to find now. He could go anywhere.’ Levy stared at the building shaking his head. ‘We’re not that big a city, Q. There are forty-nine cities with more people in this country, but still it’s easy to get lost here. You only have to look at my unsolved caseload to see it.’

  ‘We’ll get him, Josh. We’ll get him.’

  ‘It’s time to bring this thing to a screeching halt, Detective Archer.’

  ‘I know. Green?’

  ‘Detective?’

  ‘Did Houston and White have pizza? Did they have any drinks? Utensils, napkins? Had they been served?’

  ‘They had it all, Detective.’

  ‘Bag it. Pay the waitress or whoever and bring everything on the table. Glasses, pizza, napkins, silverware. We’ll try to get DNA and prints just to make sure.’

  ‘You know this will get back to them,’ was the response.

  ‘Well, I don’t want to barnstorm the place. Keep it fairly low key, but hey, cover is blown, Green. Makes no difference. The people at Trixie’s know these guys, and these guys now know we’re onto them. Let the chase begin.’

  Levy called the other two teams, informing them that the operation was terminated. Once they were tipped off, the two gang members were not going to show up at another establishment in the same neighborhood. That was pretty clear.

  THIRTY-TWO

  ‘Alexia, I’m sorry I haven’t called. I got tied up in a—’

  ‘Detective Archer, I told you there was trouble in our club. Well, as far as my involvement goes, there is big trouble.’

  ‘Is there something in the works? Are you OK?’

  ‘Listen, I can’t talk long. I’m in the dressing room at work, but I needed to tell you. I received a personal threat from a guy I consider the number one troublemaker in town.’ She spoke in a hushed tone. ‘Now, I can normally take care of myself but this time I’m not so sure. I’m a little concerned.’

  ‘He threatened what?’ Archer pictured her in a brief costume, the blonde extensions and her pert breasts. He tried to erase the image from his mind.

  ‘That’s why I hesitated to call. He threatened to make trouble, but he wasn’t specific. He said he could make things rough for me and I basically told him to go fuck himself, because that bastard doesn’t own me, Quentin. Nobody owns me. And believe it or not, that didn’t go over so well.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Archer responded. ‘Telling him to go fuck himself … probably not a good idea.’ If nothing else, she was feisty.

  ‘I tend to have a mouth,’ she whispered, ‘and as much as it probably surprises you, I often do things without considering the consequences.’

  Archer remembered the kiss in the restaurant.

  ‘The man sells drugs inside our club. And, he sells girls to the club. He splits the earnings with management. Damn, can’t someone do something?’ Her voice was soft but insistent.

  ‘Not until someone makes a formal complaint.’

  ‘Can I do that?’

  ‘Of course. Is it safe for you to come forward?’

  ‘Probably not,’ she said. ‘I will lose my job for sure, but if it meant we could clean up some of this …’

  ‘You’d lose your job? That’s all?’ She was being a little cavalier. ‘It sounds like you might lose a lot more than that.’

  ‘Listen, I shouldn’t be talking here. I don’t need any more trouble than I already have, but Jeb the club owner is in on it. I know that, you know that. The managers all buy into it. Gangs, girls and drugs, it’s what makes this place run. I hate this, Q, but without it the place closes down. Delroy Houston and his gang have put a stranglehold on this club. And they won’t let go.’

  ‘Delroy Houston?’ Archer was surprised to hear the name. A perfect player for this type of vice, but twice in one afternoon?

  ‘The man who threatened me. He’s the head banger from Warhead Solja. You are aware of him, right?’

  ‘As a matter of fact …’ He couldn’t tell her that Houston had given him the slip just hours ago. ‘I know him. Now, do you know a banger named Dushane White? He works for Houston.’

  ‘White? He’s an enforcer,’ she said. ‘He comes in here and scares everyone half to death. There are rumors that he’s carved up a couple girls who used to work here. I think he’s a psychopath. Seriously.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re dealing with some really dangerous people, Alexia. Sick, dangerous people.’

  ‘I’m at a point,’ she whispered, ‘where I really don’t think it’s safe for me to be here. There’s talk that they’re bringing four or five new girls in tomorrow night. I can tell you that most or all of them have never stripped before and they’re being threatened with their lives, their families’ lives if they don’t perform and earn. I’ve never met them, but it’s the same pattern. And I’m willing to bet none of them are twenty-one. Fifteen, sixteen, eighteen tops.’

  ‘When the girls show up, who brings them in?’

  Her voice was even softer. ‘If it’s Nasta Mafia, it’s usually a guy they call Gangsta Boy. Slimy bald fucker who actually struts like a peacock when he walks. The girls who work for him laugh behind his back. If it’s Warhead Solja, Dushane White walks them in. Believe me, the girls don’t laugh about him. I think he’d just as soon slit their throats if they did.’

  Archer was quiet for a moment. The blonde stripper had to get out, but if she left she could be in more danger than if she stayed. Inside, she was still an employee. If she quit, they could go looking for her and leave her in a dumpster when they were finished. He knew very well what happened when you pissed off people who had a lot of power. You or someone close to you could get whacked.

  ‘You could leave. Now. You can always get another job.’

  ‘I can strip anywhere. But why doesn’t someone just clean this mess up, Quentin? Why don’t the good guys show up? Where the hell are the cops? The drug enforcement officers? These slimeballs are trafficking underage girls and drugs right in front of me, and no one seems to care. Where are you?’

  ‘Are you safe through tomorrow?’

  ‘I have no idea. I work the late shift tomorrow night. I assume this asshole won’t bother me, but I can’t be certain. There were veiled threats and I have no idea if he’ll act on them or not.’

  ‘OK, you’re scheduled to work the late shift tomorrow. Am I right? And that’s when the new girls come in?’

  ‘That’s the rumor.’ She paused. ‘You know, Detective, it’s very shallow to say this considering these girls are innocents who are being used. Kidnapped as far as I know. Damn, I don’t want to be someone who is always about me, but this is just more competition for dollars, and I don’t need the competition.’ There was a long sigh on her end of the call.

  ‘Are you up for another meeting at Café du Monde?’

  ‘When I get off?’

  ‘Sure. Three a.m.’

  ‘Is this a date?’

  Archer paused, smiling. It was strange that she would leap from immediate danger to that option. A date? The last date he’d had was his first date with Denise. Before that, a football cheerleader named Chloe, after he’d scored the winning touchdown at Crocket High the last game his junior year. The storybook episode in an idyllic life. Not so idyllic after the fact.

  ‘A date? That would be interesting but sadly no. It’s about cleaning up the club and getting some of the bad guys out of there.’

  ‘You’re going to finally bust these guys for selling drugs and underage girls? Tell me I’ve finally gotten through.’

  ‘No, probably not that.’

  ‘Then what?’ He sensed the frustration in the tone of her voice.

  ‘If this works out, we’ll bust them for murder. That tends to put people away for a long time.’

  He considered the meeting. It was a long shot; but there was at least a fifty percent chance that scar-face would be the one delivering the girls tomorrow night. And if he was, if Dushane White was coming into the club, it was the perfect oppor
tunity to grab him. Pushing number five on speed dial he listened intently to the rings. Josh Levy picked up on the third.

  ‘Archer?’

  ‘Josh, I told you about the young lady who works at Woody’s?’

  ‘The cute blonde.’

  ‘The same. We’ve had an interesting conversation.’

  ‘And I need to know this because …’

  ‘The strip club is supposedly getting some new dancers tomorrow night. Five girls from South America.’

  ‘We’re clubbing tomorrow? We don’t do human trafficking.’

  ‘Dushane White may be the one who delivers the girls. Apparently he is the pimp of the evening. And if he is, I’d like to have a surprise party for him.’

  ‘Q, I like this. But what do I have to bring to the table?’

  ‘That’s the part you’re not going to like.’

  ‘There’s not much about this job I do like.’

  ‘I’m meeting Alexia this morning at three a.m. at Café du Monde.’

  ‘No. You don’t want me to …’

  ‘Yeah, I’d really like for you to be there.’

  ‘Quentin, three a.m.?’

  ‘I don’t have a lot of time to plan this party, Josh.’

  ‘Jesus. Do you work this late in Detroit?’

  ‘Yeah, we do. Or, we did. Listen, I want to nail this son of a bitch, Josh. We missed him the last time and I don’t want to lose him again.’

  ‘Three a.m.?’

  ‘I’m buying donuts and coffee, OK?’

  THIRTY-THREE

  He handed her the purse and phone, watching her expression. Her face bruised, the tears in her eyes telegraphing the sorrow.

  ‘I am so sorry, Kathy. I shouldn’t have let you leave. I feel like I’m responsible for, you know …’

  ‘You feel like what?’ She stared into the face of the blond haired man sitting by her side.

  ‘You know, I feel like …’

  ‘You are responsible, you asshole.’

  Paul Girard leaned back in his chair.

  ‘They told me the only reason I was being beaten up was to shut you up. But you, you were busy with the senator so I took the beating for you. Are you happy? You cheap self-absorbed son of a bitch, are you really sorry? Because I’ve got to deal with black and blue, I have to deal with a bloody lip and stitches. I have to deal with worrying if these thugs will come after me again, worry about—’

  ‘Kathy.’ Solange Cordray put her hand on her friend’s shoulder and could feel the tremors. ‘I think he understands.’

  ‘He will never understand.’ Tears streamed down her cheeks and the entire event was real again in her eyes.

  ‘I would never have … ever have …’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Paul. Shut up. You are such a piece of work.’ She was sobbing, her body shaking.

  ‘Marcia LeJeune,’ Solange said. ‘You had a meeting with her when Kathy was attacked?’

  Visibly shaken, Girard looked up at Solange. ‘What about her? She’s the senator that’s fighting to stop this corruption.’

  ‘She is championing the fight against human trafficking.’

  ‘Of course. It’s one of her main focuses. She’s passionate about rooting out the people responsible.’

  ‘Go to her. Tell her that you’ve got the story and tell her about the threat on Kathy and your life.’

  Girard pushed his chair back from the table.

  ‘She’s got a plan to bust this wide open and she asked me to hold off on any further stories.’

  ‘Are you willing to wait? To see if these thugs, these murderous gangsters will back off on their attacks?’

  ‘If I don’t pose an immediate threat, if I don’t write the article …’

  ‘You are such a fool. And you’ve put other people in jeopardy.’ Solange pointed her finger at him. ‘Go to her. Tell her about the threats, the danger and see what her reaction is. What’s next? They kill someone to keep this quiet? Actually, I think that may already have happened. It’s got to stop, Paul.’

  ‘I trust her,’ Girard said. ‘Marcia is a strong person. Whoever did this to Kathy, we’ll figure it out. And it’s not going to happen again. I won’t let it happen.’

  ‘Paul,’ Bavely said, ‘what can you possibly do? You’re an idiot. Please leave. I’ll take care of myself. The last thing I need is some self-centered asshole who is only involved in this for his own interest.’

  He stood up, turned and walked to the door, turning around at the last second.

  ‘Look, Kathy, I’m sorry you got involved, and I promise I won’t bother you again. But just for the record, I’m on the tip of a very big breakthrough. If I get a chance to expose the depth of this problem and actually am responsible for stopping some of the suffering, then …’

  ‘Are you listening to yourself?’ Her voice rose. ‘All that will happen is you can make another check mark on your blackboard. It’s all about you, Paul. This has nothing to do with stopping human suffering. You simply want the credit and the glory. Good luck with your career.’

  Girard walked out, the screen door slamming against the wooden frame.

  The two ladies were silent, neither ready to speak.

  ‘You should stay here tonight. I’ve got a sleeper sofa in the back room and you can spend the night.’

  ‘Solange …’

  ‘I will not take no for an answer,’ her stern voice making the decision final. ‘While I feel you are safe for the moment, I’d feel much better if you stayed here. It’s been a traumatic afternoon and we should be cautious.’

  The young voodoo lady locked the door. ‘There’s a toothbrush in the second drawer. T-shirts in the bottom, and you can just pull out the sofa.’

  Bavely walked to the back room and Solange selected a Shango seven-day altar candle, struck a match and touched the wick. The flame was immediate, a spark of deep orange, and the girl smiled. A god who represented thunder and lightning. She could use a little of that right now.

  Shango, a powerful Orisha, was the spirit to make a person strong in the face of danger. The legendary fourth king of the ancient kingdom of Oyo, he was a Herculean deity. She took a second Shango candle and lit this one as well. Again the wick burned strong, a steady constant almond-shaped flame. This was for Quentin Archer. She felt he was in grave danger at this very moment and she prayed she was wrong. She prayed to Shango that the man would stay strong through whatever trials he was given. And God knew, he’d been through so many already.

  Archer shivered in the crisp brisk air, walking to his cottage and thinking about the rendezvous with Alexia Chantel in the early morning. A chance to see the sultry seductress. The soon-to-be wealthy seductress who claimed she could retire in her thirties. Wrapping his mind around her situation he almost missed the short stocky man who brushed by him. Archer turned and watched as the man lurched down the sidewalk. Then, focusing on his destination, he walked the two blocks to the Cat’s Meow. As he reached the porch, he felt a cold chill travel down his spine.

  Spinning around, he saw a man, twenty feet down the brick walkway. The same one who bumped him on Bourbon. A stocking cap pulled low on his forehead and a heavy quilted jacket on his portly frame.

  The light was fading as he glanced at the face. The fact that the man didn’t disguise his appearance meant that he didn’t care if Archer recognized him or not. And when he recognized the man, he immediately wondered if he was there to kill him. In a second, Archer decided that wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘I can’t believe you had the nerve to come down here.’

  ‘And I can’t believe that you’re still pushing your agenda in Detroit.’ The tone was menacing, the voice deep and husky.

  ‘You killed my wife you asshole. What do you want?’

  ‘Your demise. You see, Archer, if you are gone, the need to know diminishes greatly. As long as you are alive, there are a handful of cops who would do anything to burnish your reputation. You die, nobody gives a rat’s ass. You’re old news.’
>
  Archer stood on the porch watching the Detroit cop’s hands. If he went for a gun, if he went for a knife …

  ‘Why didn’t you send my brother? He likes to yank my chain then disappear. You deprived him of his pleasure.’

  ‘Because I don’t think it’s good karma to have brother kill brother.’

  ‘You actually have scruples? Since when? You killed Denise, so now you want to kill me.’

  ‘No admission of guilt, Q. And I simply stated that I want your demise. I never said I was orchestrating it. Of course, if an accident should happen, it wouldn’t exactly bring me any grief.’

  ‘I can’t believe you actually are here.’

  ‘A little time off. R and R, Q.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for—’

  ‘Here’s your chance, Detective. Take your best shot. But I’m not armed and I haven’t laid a hand on you. So I’d be very careful. Assault, battery, on an unarmed cop. That’s not going to play well at all.’

  ‘Get off the property.’

  ‘You’re not very hospitable, Archer, and it’s not your property. Belongs to the club over there.’

  ‘Mercer, if I killed you now, no jury in the world would convict me.’

  The man chuckled. ‘Then do it, Quentin. You haven’t got the balls. You running down here proves it.’

  Rage, frustration, anger coursed through his veins. Reaching into his jacket he touched his Glock, thinking how easy it would be to get revenge.

  ‘And I do have a vest on, Archer, so go for a head shot if you’re going to really do this.’

  ‘I will get you, Mercer. I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m not working on impulse. Not tonight. I’ll find a way to nail you and at the least I’ll watch you rot in prison. I promise you that.’

  Mercer nodded. ‘Not if you go first, Archer. No threat … I’m just saying that accidents happen my friend. People get run over by a car every day. Probably every minute somewhere in the country. You just never know when it’s going to be your turn.’ Smiling, he turned and walked down the pathway.

  Archer pulled his gun and aimed it at Bobby Mercer’s back. He could finish it right now. But the son of a bitch had thrown the perfect counterpunch. And there was nothing he could do. Spinning around, he reached for the doorknob. Glancing up he saw that the tape had been torn. Someone had broken into his cottage.