Tonton

by Billy Kring

  Randall asked, “What about the car?”

  “It was green. Not a dark green or a light green, just medium.”

  “Do you know what kind it was?”

  “You mean like a Chevy or a Ford or something?”

  “Yes.”

  The two boys looked at each other, then the blond one said, “I’d be guessing.”

  John said, “You saw the rear of the car, though.”

  “Yes sir.”

  John worked his phone for a bit, then showed them the screen. “Which looks like the rear of that car?”

  “None of them. These are new cars, the one that drove away was older, by a lot.”

  “How much older?” Randall said.

  The black-headed boy said, “A whole bunch, like ten or twenty years.”

  The blond boy said, “Maybe even older, like when they first made cars back in the seventies.”

  Randall glanced at the policeman, who grinned, then he looked at John and said, “How about we have them come down to the office and go through photos of all makes and year models?”

  “Works for me,” John said.

  They heard approaching cars slowing and parking by the others. Handley’s voice called out, “Gentlemen, where are you?”

  “Over here, in the trees!” John said.

  Handley and Young Anson came through the trees and stopped beside the others.

  Randall pointed at the large pot and said, “Soup’s on.”

  The young boys’ eyes bulged like they had swallowed golf balls.

  Randall winked at them, “It’s cop humor, how we deal with bad stuff. You two understand, right?”

  They looked at each other, then nodded and tried to hide their grins, as if they just heard something naughty.

  Young Anson asked everyone to let him look first. He walked the perimeter, checking each painting, each hanging figure, and the rattlesnake, then worked his way to the center fire in an ever-decreasing pattern. He checked the head in the pot last, then rejoined John and Randall and said, “This is dark magic, the first one I’ve seen outside my home country that is organized in this way.”

  “What’s it for?” Randall asked.

  Young looked at the clearing again, “this is incomplete, but it is to build power. Power that will be used against their enemies.”

  John asked, “How’s it incomplete?”

  “For one, the skull isn’t clean. This was stopped before they finished the process.”

  Randall asked, “Why didn’t they use acid or something else to clean it? That would have been faster.”

  “Boiling increases the finished skull’s power. Acid leaves the bones clean, but the surface is not as smooth. Unless I miss my guess, there will be several plants that were in the water to help make the ceremony stronger.”

  “You said, ‘for one thing’, what else besides the skull is incomplete?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. There are several possibilities. It could be that they simply didn’t finish with this site.”

  They all heard an approaching car, then car doors closing after it parked with the others. Hunter yelled, “You guys here?”

  “In the trees!”

  As they approached through the trees and neared the clearing, Ariel slowed. Hunter said, “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, but continued forward. When all three stepped into the clearing, Ariel said, “We should not stay here. This is a bad place.”

  Hunter said, “You can wait in the car if you want.”

  “No.” She stayed with Andre and Hunter as they joined the others.

  The two young boys gawked at Hunter and Ariel, and Randall said to the women, “Looks like you two have some new fans.”

  John said, “Young’s been checking this out, and we’ve got a human head in the pot over there.”

  Andre said, “Where’s the body?”

  “Don’t know. We’ve looked over every inch of this place.”

  Ariel knelt on one knee, looking at the carpet of leaves.

  Hunter frowned and made a circle around the perimeter. Randall asked, “What is it?”

  “This is not right.” Hunter said.

  “What’s not right?”

  “The leaves are too evenly spread, too neat.”

  Hunter moved the side of her foot lightly in an arc to rake leaves and reveal the ground. It was bare earth, nothing more. She took a single step towards the fire and did it again.

  A white line as wide as her palm showed on the dark earth.

  “What do we have here.” John said.

  Young said, “That, is what was missing.”

  John turned to the police officer, “How about taking the boys to the office?”

  “Sure.”

  “Have them call their parents, too. They can be there when we interview.” The officer nodded, gathered the boys and left the clearing. John said, “We need a leaf blower.”

  Randall said, “Got it covered.”

  “You have a leaf blower on you?”

  “At the house. I’ll be back pronto.”

  “You’re going to run with the lights and siren on, aren’t you?”

  “Only way to fly.” He took the keys from John and started through the trees.

  John yelled at him, “That’s why you’re a top flight detective.” Randall waved behind him and disappeared among the foliage.

  Hunter and Andre waited until they heard the car leave, then walked to the pot. Andre said, “Oh shit.”

  John said, “What?”

  Hunter pulled out the evidence bag in her pocket. The hair color matched. She and Andre joined the others, showing them the evidence bag.

  John asked, “Where?”

  Hunter said, “Behind the abandoned warehouse where Ariel saw the vodou ceremony.”

  Young Anson moved closer. He said, “Even if you told the story before, please tell it to me now.”

  Ariel did. Young asked questions at certain parts, making her describe details. He nodded when she finished.

  John asked him, “Well?”

  “I need to see what is hidden,” he moved his hand to indicate the leaf-covered clearing, “Then I will know for sure.”

  As they waited, John walked to the rattlesnake on the stump. “Will one of you hold its head?”

  Young Anson said, “What are you going to do?”

  “Pull out the nail.”

  Young looked at John’s hands, “You have no tools.”

  “I think I can get it.”

  Young shrugged, turned to a nearby tree and broke off a finger-thick limb that had no leaves, then walked to the stump. The rattler’s head extended a foot beyond the stump’s edge, and it was agitated. Young used the limb to rub the snake’s back, from the nail to its head. He did this several times. The snake lowered its head and let it droop over the edge of the stump and down the trunk. Young ran the stick along its body one more time and followed it with his other hand. He used his thumb and finger to grasp behind the triangular head. He said, “Go ahead.”

  John gave Young an appraising look, then turned his attention to the nail. A half-inch stood above the snake’s back. He grasped the exposed portion with his thumb and forefinger, saying to Young, “Don’t turn loose.” He worked it back and forth, feeling a tiny give in the wood. Thirty seconds later, he pulled it free. The nail was long and thick, a twenty-penny common nail. Untraceable.

  Young turned to Handley, “Do you need the snake as evidence?”

  Handley said, “No.”

  Young carried the snake into the trees and turned it loose. When he rejoined the others, he lifted John’s hand in his own and examined it. He smiled, “It doesn’t look bionic. Very impressive, Detective Quick.”

  John said, “What was impressive was you, with the rattler.”

  Ten minutes later, they heard the car approaching, then the doors closing and Randall trotted through the trees with his leaf blower. Handley said, “Use the lightest setting possible. We don’t want
to blow away any evidence.”

  Randall started the blower, made an adjustment, then worked the leaves by moving the blower side to side, working the outside of the clearing first, then moving in smaller circles until he had the entire opening cleared.

  The drawing revealed itself as he blew away the leaves, and Young Anson rubbed his mouth, “It is to gather power. Much power.” When Randall finished, everyone studied the white, complex designs on the earth.

  “You said to gather power. Like how?” John said.

  “It is made to do away with any opposition, anyone hindering the accrual of power and money.”

  “So, kill their competition.”

  “Yes. Or render them incapable of interfering. It is directed to others, too, like the police who try to stop them.”

  “Have you seen this before?”

  “No.”

  Several of them took photos, and Andre climbed into the trees and took overall shots. When they finished, Hunter asked Handley, “You through with this?”

  Handley said, “Yes.”

  Hunter and Ariel stepped to the white lines and raked their shoes across them, obliterating the designs. Young Anson joined them.

  High above them, a black drone hovered into view, then steadily descended, the GoPro camera clicking away.

  They heard the whirring sound and everyone looked up as the drone buzzed lower and hovered at a hundred feet above the clearing. It turned first one way, then the other. After twenty seconds, it lowered the front and dove toward those on the ground.

  Hunter’s pistol came out in a blink and she had the drone in her sights, squeezing the trigger when it veered away and circled the clearing, staying just above the trees lining the open area.

  Hunter said, “Whoever’s controlling that has to be close. I’m gonna go look for them.” She trotted into the trees, with John a step behind.

  They emerged by the vehicles and heard, then saw the drone speeding east toward several neighborhoods that began a mile in the distance. Hunter started the car as John hopped in the passenger’s seat, then she sped through tall grass to the pavement, where the tires chirped as they bit into the asphalt for traction. The drone was a speck in the distance when it dropped from sight in a neighborhood of brick homes and eucalyptus trees.

  Hunter drove to the entrance and turned in, driving the residential streets, as she and John looked left and right. After twenty minutes, she said, “Well, crap.”

  John said, “Let’s go back to the scene.”

  Hunter turned the car in a U and started back. “Do you think that could have been kids flying it?”

  John said, “Maybe.”

  As they left the neighborhood, Hunter passed a parked van in front of a house with a for sale sign in the yard. She glanced at the van and slowed, almost stopping, then said, “Nahh,” and continued on, turning left at the intersection, onto the main road and accelerating in the direction of the crime scene.

  Ringo Bazin sat in the back of the van and watched through the front window as Hunter and John drove away. He put the Beretta on the passenger seat and turned his attention to the drone on the van floor, removing the GoPro camera. He checked the images after downloading them to his laptop. One image showed all faces in the clearing upturned to the drone. Ringo enlarged each face, studying them with care, then cropped each face and placed them in a separate file. He lingered longest on Hunter.

  When Hunter and John returned to the clearing, evidence was being gathered and logged. Randall said, “Not much else we can do here.” He looked at John, “Ready to go talk to those kids?”

  John said, “At least identify the car that left when they arrived, if nothing else.”

  Randall said to Hunter, “Jesse Coda and Jason Hale said to give them a call. They want to check out the warehouse, and talk to Ariel. I filled them in on what happened on the Hollywood Beach boardwalk.”

  Hunter nodded. Andre said, “If we get with them soon, we might still finish our reports before midnight.”

  “Ha-ha. I’m ready to go if you and Ariel are.”

  Handley and his people were still busy when they left. Andre called the Miami detectives while Hunter drove, and they decided to meet at the warehouse.

  Jesse Coda was outside the building when Hunter pulled into the parking area. Jason came out of the door, holding a camera with flash attachment. They waited until the others exited the vehicle and Jason said, “Man, somebody must have used a hundred gallons of Clorox in there. I’m dizzy just breathing the air.”

  “I hear you,” Andre said.

  Jesse said, “This place is owned by a couple in Miami Lakes, Andre and Kerlinè Dubervil. Told us it hasn’t been used for any business in years. They pay the taxes to keep it current, but have no immediate plans for the property.”

  “Did you tell them what happened?” Hunter asked.

  “We did.”

  “And?”

  “They leave the property open and unlocked so homeless people and vandals don’t break in. They have the property cleaned several times a year.”

  “How about this time?”

  “They said it wasn’t them.”

  Jason asked Ariel, “You saw Ringo Bazin go in here that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see him inside?”

  “It was crowded, and I did not.”

  Jason said, “Well, it’s someone to question, at least.”

  Ariel said, “The couple, they were Haitian, weren’t they.”

  Jesse said, “Yes. Why?”

  Ariel said, “Probably nothing.”

  Hunter said, “Go ahead and say it. These guys won’t bite.”

  Ariel said, “I wonder if they were here that night. In the crowd.”

  “Why would you think that?” Jason asked.

  “It is a feeling, nothing more.”

  “Would you recognize them from a photo?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll see if I can get a picture. I’ll contact you in a day or two.” Ariel nodded.

  Hunter said, “Andre also saw Jean Claude Villard’s car pass by several times the other day, so we’re going to check that angle out, too.”

  Jesse said, “Let us know what you find.”

  “Same here,” Andre said.

  Jason said, “Ariel, we’d like to go over your story.”

  Ariel said, “My car’s at home. Will you drive me there afterward?”

  Jason smiled, “It would be my pleasure.”

  Hunter said, “You sure you want to go to your house?”

  Ariel nodded, “It’s time.”

  Hunter said, “You have my number.” She and Andre left as Ariel got in the back seat of the Miami detectives’ car. On the way to Pembroke Pines, Hunter said, “All this jurisdictional overlap with the different cities down here, it’s becoming a problem.”

  Andre said, “We should talk to Redus, maybe get a multi agency task force going, or something under the Florida Department of Law Enforcement umbrella, so we all can go anywhere the trail leads us.”

  “Has Redus done that before?”

  “Yeah, he’s worked with the state and local agencies to set them up. He’s done it a couple times.”

  “I know it doesn’t affect us because we’re federal, but I sure would like to have John and Randall going everywhere with us. Jesse and Jason, too.”

  Andre said, “We can catch Bob first thing in the morning.”

  Hunter nodded, and slowed as traffic became congested on the Interstate. She said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking my dinner tonight will be a six pack of beer and some wings, eaten in the bed. I’m bushed.”

  “My wife’s giving me a hot oil massage first, then she’s going to hand feed me grapes and gourmet cheese while I recline on plush pillows.”

  “Hah!” Hunter laughed.

  “Okay, maybe she picked up some Chinese takeout and that’s what I’m having.” He grinned.

  They finished the reports after nine P
M, and Hunter entered her hotel room with the six-pack of Dos Equis and an order of wings a little before ten. She made it through the local news and four beers before turning off the television and going to sleep. She awoke a little after one AM, feeling disturbed, and saw a shadow under her door. Pulling the pistol out of her nearby holster, Hunter waited. The shadow moved on, and she eased from the bed to the door, thinking, Real smart, Hunter. If they run, are you going to chase them bare-assed down the street? She wanted to see them before they got away, and eased open the door, peering through the slit, but didn’t see a soul. She opened it further and leaned out to see both directions.

  A man in his fifties, holding a small bucket of ice in one hand and a bottle of bourbon by the neck in the other, walked across the grass below the second floor walkway. He spotted Hunter in the open door and stopped dead in his tracks. Hunter tried to cover. The man grinned, put the hand holding the bottle over his heart and said loud enough for her to hear, “You just made my year. Thank you.” He waved and continued walking, and she heard him chuckle as he said, “Lord have mercy, what a body.”

  Hunter backed inside her room and closed the door. Her cheeks felt hot, and she had a sheepish grin on her face. She said to herself, “Put a tee shirt on next time, you doofus.” Hunter returned to bed and lay awake another hour, then drifted to sleep, with the pistol out of its holster and resting on the nightstand within easy reach.

  ~*~

  Ariel could not sleep. She read, watched television, went to the window and looked outside, but nothing helped to erase what she saw in the clearing. The white designs made on the ground especially. They disturbed her a great deal. Badness radiated off them to send their images into her thoughts, where they seemed to burn like brands into her mind.

  At four AM, She went into the kitchen and cooked breakfast. She needed someone to talk to, someone not a law enforcement officer. Ariel sipped her coffee and decided she would visit with Pansy Brown today. Pansy was a good person, and that might help get her mind on nicer things.

  She called Pansy a little after eight. Pansy said, “How are you, my fine girl?”

  Ariel said, “I’m okay.”

  “Okay? You soundin’ a little down to me.”

  “A little, I guess. I was hoping we could talk. I always feel better after visiting with my friend.”

  “I’m off today, and Denson and I were going to Flanigan’s in Coconut Grove for lunch. If you don’t mind him bein’ there, too, I’ll buy you a meal.”