Dark Red And Deadly

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Dark Red And Deadly Page 3

by Frederick Zackel


  "Sheriff Charles Hartman."

  Rafferty watched his blood draining from his arm into the blood bag.

  * * *

  Rafferty and Ginny waited outside the emergency room. Ginny was a nervous wreck. Nora came out.

  Ginny was almost in tears. "Can I see him now?"

  Exhausted, Nora shook her head, just as Sheriff Hartman re-entered the room. He saw Nora, they both looked away, and then the Sheriff left without saying a word. Then Nora left.

  Rafferty said, "They're in-laws?"

  Ginny said, "They used to be in-laws." She couldn’t stop worrying. "God, I hate this waiting."

  Rafferty put his arm around Ginny who rested her head on his shoulder.

  * * *

  Henry and his grandson Tomo were under a porch light behind their mobile home, drinking and talking about the future. Suddenly the thunder of approaching helicopters startled them.

  Tomo heard them first. "Helicopters!"

  Henry took up his shotgun. "Run for it!"

  Night became noon, as spotlights came angling down on the mobile home. Henry fired both barrels at the night sky, blowing out one of the spotlights. Flashing police lights and police sirens filled the darkness. Henry and Tomo ran off into what remained of the darkness. Patrol cars came sweeping up the drive and the helicopters began landing. Men and their weapons lept from their vehicles and fanned out like commandos taking a town.

  Sheriff Hartman stood forth as leader of the operation.

  Within moments, the raid was over. Some deputies brought a handcuffed Henry Oteas to Sheriff Hartman.

  Henry growled at them, "I'm a senior citizen, dammit. Take it easy!"

  "Hello, Henry," said the sheriff.

  "Hello, Sheriff," Henry said.

  A deputy approached carrying Henry's shotgun.

  The deputy said, "He's the one who fired the shot at us, Sheriff."

  "I was defending myself," Henry said.

  Hartman said, "Henry, you're under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon and for interfering with a police officer."

  "What's that gonna cost me, Sheriff?" Henry asked.

  Hartman shrugged. "A thousand dollars bail. You can be arraigned in the morning and be home by noon."

  Henry was relieved. "Oh, that's not bad."

  Another deputy came up with various stolen property, including a color television and power tools. He told the Sheriff, "Serial numbers match some stolen items."

  Hartman was impressed. He told Henry, "Henry, you're under arrest for theft charges, too."

  Henry was outraged. "What!"

  Hartman amended that. "Receiving stolen property."

  Henry was hardly mollified. Still, he said, "Thank you, Sheriff."

  Hartman agreed. "Henry, I can't picture you sneaking through somebody's house in the dead of night carrying off their television."

  Deputies looked through the mobile home and found marijuana for personal use, some cocaine, a fifty pound bale of dried marijuana, weapons and ammunition, firecrackers and food stamps.

  "Only the food stamps are mine, " Henry said.

  "Book him with receiving stolen property, cultivation and possession with intent to sell, and unlicensed guns, too," Hartman said.

  "Damn!" Henry told himself.

  * * *

  Lester drove back from the beach, drinking bourbon right from the bottle and eating an orange without peeling it, taking bites from it as if it were an apple.

  He saw a mass of red and white lights up ahead and slowed his truck to gawk. The Sheriff's department had the Oteas driveway blocked off. Various deputies wandered around.

  A truck behind Lester's van blew its horn because Lester had slowed.

  Lester, outraged, slammed on his brakes.

  The truck almost slammed into Lester's red brake lights.

  Forsaking his other duties, one of the deputies approached Lester's van.

  Lester watched as the deputy approached, and had his shotgun cradled in his lap. Lester cocked both barrels and raised it towards the window.

  The deputy didn't look inside the truck. He told Lester, waving him on,

  "Move along!"

  The deputy turned away before Lester had to shoot him. Lester slammed the gear lever down and drove off.

  * * *

  One light was on at the Quint house.

  Jeremiah Quint was playing gospel spirituals on a church piano in the family room, while his wife Audrey stood in a doorway, her arms folded, a bathrobe wrapped around her.

  Audrey Quint said, "Are you staying up all night?"

  She moved closer, as Jeremiah never stopped playing his piano.

  Jeremiah said, "They're going to bust me tomorrow, Audrey."

  "Jeremiah, why did you clear out all your guns?"

  "They're going bust me tomorrow, Audrey."

  "You keep saying that."

  "No bullshit," said Jeremiah.

  "Bullshit!"

  "This time I'm sure of it. When I saw Tomo Oteas talking with that undercover cop—" Jeremiah frowned. "We weren't supposed to see them together. I saw it in his eyes. Tomo's helping them."

  "Jeremiah, how did you know that man was a cop? Who told you?"

  Jeremiah warned her, "Don't poke fun of me, Audrey."

  "Seriously. If he was undercover, how did you know it?"

  He quoted the Old Testmant, saying, "For among my people are found wicked men: They lay wait as he that setteth snares; they set a trap, they catch men."

  "Jeremiah," she said absently.

  "Audrey—"

  "You just knew it, was that it?" Audrey was suddenly very angry. "How many nights are you going to sit around in the dark waiting, waiting, waiting—"

  "They're coming tomorrow morning," Jeremiah Quint insisted.

  Audrey backed off, calmer. "Did you call the lawyer?"

  Jeremiah looked up. "Yes. Anything else?"

  Audrey hesitated. "Is the money safe?"

  Jeremiah said, "Safe enough. " He promised her, "They won't find it."

  "Why did you move out your guns?"

  "They weren't all registered," said Jeremiah.

  Audrey hugged herself as if suddenly cold. Then she slapped the piano with both hands very loudly to get her husband's undivided attention. Jeremiah stopped playing the piano.

  Audrey was angry. "When does this all stop? All this bullshit and deceit and fear. I want to be honest again."

  "Poor but honest?"

  "Yes!" Audrey became more excited. "I never want to be this scared ever again!

  Jeremiah had resumed playing the piano, but Audrey slammed her hands down on the piano top again. She was outraged.

  "You shit you shit you shit! I got little babies asleep upstairs, and the Sheriff's Strike Force is going to bust us in the morning!"

  Jeremiah Quint kept playing his piano. "Go to your sister's house."

  Audrey considered it. "Maybe I should. Why should I watch you get busted?"

  "I don't want you to stay," said Jeremiah.

  "Will you come with me?"

  Jeremiah Quint was determined. "No."

  "About Jimmy—"

  "Stay out of it, Audrey!"

  Audrey stared at her husband as she made up her mind. "I'm going to bed now."

  "Goodnight, honey," said Jeremiah.

  "Come to bed soon. We've got a busy day tomorrow."

  "Okay, honey," said Jeremiah.

  They kissed good night.

  Audrey left Jeremiah playing the piano alone.

  He quoted the Old Testament again, this time saying, "Her judges are evening wolves; they gnaw not the bones until the morrow."

  He leaned back, closed his eyes, and played his piano for God alone.

  * * *

  Up on a ridge in the foothills Mad Dog sat in his underpants by his truck, drinking bourbon by the glow of his portable television set. He watched as headlights drove up towards him. Mad Dog took up his shotgun and holstered .357 pistol and waited. Tomo parked a st
olen truck and stormed across the ridge to Mad Dog. Seeing Tomo, Mad Dog relaxed.

  But Tomo was pissed off. "You, mother-fucker, you!"

  Mad Dog was lost. "Hey, Tomo, what for?"

  "My farm got busted, my grandfather got busted, and there's a warrant out for me!" Tomo jabbed a finger at Mad Dog. "Because of you, you mother-fucker you, I can't go home again!"

  Mad Dog got as mad. "Okay, Tomo, so what the hell you gonna do next?"

  Tomo mourned. "What the hell am I gonna do?"

  Mad Dog passed him the bourbon. They passed the bottle back and forth often, drinking deeply, getting intoxicated.

  Mad Dog said, "Maybe somebody snitched on us."

  Tomo stiffened. "You think so?"

  Mad Dog became suspicious. "Maybe. Maybe somebody did."

  Tomo had a flash. "That haole Quint—" He drank before speaking. "Jeremiah Quint and some redheaded haole and Ginny Hong the undertaker all together in the Pikake Lounge." He had another flash. "And she's fucking that resident deputy Ka’aina - " He then concluded, "If I had known it sooner ... "

  Mad Dog was disgusted. "What would you have done, Tomo?"

  They watched Lester park his truck and approach them. Tomo and Mad Dog passed Lester the bottle, and he joined in with the heavy drinking. The bottle was in constant motion.

  Tomo said bitterly, to Lester, "Mother-fuck you, too, mother-fucker!"

  "Hey, mother-fuck you, too," Lester said. "Whose truck is that?"

  "I stole it," Tomo said. "Only way I could get up here because you and your kid fucked me over."

  Mad Dog told Lester, "The Sheriff busted the farm tonight."

  Lester was stunned. "The grass there is gone?"

  Tomo outraged. "Hey, fucker, my grandfather's in jail because of you fuckers."

  Mad Dog corrected Lester. "We didn't lose our crop, Lester, just part of it. We still got the garden and what's drying up at the shack."

  Tomo asked Lester, "Is that blood on your shirt?"

  "Some deputy attacked me in a bar," Lester said.

  Mad Dog was losing patience with his son. "What did you do to him?"

  Lester honestly didn't know. "I was putting the moves on some chick, and the fucker just attacked me, and all I did was break free and come up here." He crossed his heart. "Honest Injun."

  Tomo asked Lester, "Who was it?"

  "That big Hawaiian from down in Ilima. Eddie Ka’aina."

  "Maybe this is part of the set-up against us," Tomo said. "This Ka’aina is the one fucking the undertaker woman."

  Lester said, "She was with him at Suzsie's Sugar Shack."

  Tomo said, "She was down at the Pikake earlier with some redheaded haole who was with Jeremiah Quint even earlier."

  "Some redheaded guy." Lester said, "I bet it was him at the Sugar Shack, too."

  Mad Dog said, "See, there you go." He bitched. "Jeremiah Quint set us up."

  "Let's go get him," Lester said.

  "How you gonna do that?" Tomo asked.

  Lester asked, "Have we blown the deal with that lawyer from Hilo?"

  Tomo looked blankly at him. "Jack Draper? Sure. We got no dope to deliver."

  Lester said, "We gotta have a crop to sell, right? So we hit Quint and we take his crop."

  Tomo didn’t get it. "But he sold already, got his money already."

  Mad Dog said, "Let's go get his money."

  "We oughta," Lester said.

  Tomo was lost in drunkenness. "Why?"

  Lester said, "Hey, he fucked us!" Then he roared with anger. "Fuck him!"

  Tomo could be just as rowdy. "Fuck him dead!"

  * * *

  A blood-red sunrise rose over the island.

  Rafferty drove his rental with its sunroof open fast down a country dirt road alive with ruts and rocks. He reveled in the warmth of the islands.

  But as Rafferty drove closer to the Quint house, with one hand on the wheel, he closed the sunroof.

  When he saw red reflector tape wrapped around two palm trees on either flank of a side road, Rafferty spun the steering wheel hard and drove his car off the main dirt road onto this side road. He started tooting his horn madly.

  Rafferty drove down the side road past the posted sign that read "KAPU. NO TRESPASSING."

  The road made a half-turn, then swung right and began climbing again. At the Quint house Rafferty left his rental encircled by peacocks who were screaming horribly enough to curdle blood. Rafferty walked towards the Quint family home, then saw both pit bull terriers were dead, shotgunned.

  Rafferty ran towards the farmhouse. He found Jeremiah Quint dead by the screen door. Still wearing yesterday's clothes, Jeremiah had been shot twice. Once in the small of his back, and then the back of his head has been blown off. A handgun was in the dirt beside him.

  The side door had a shotgun hole, and the locks had been blown off.

  The door had been kicked in.

  "Audrey!" Rafferty called.

  Desperately, Rafferty raced upstairs and into the master bedroom. Audrey Quint and her baby were dead in an upstairs closet, both shot with a single blast from a shotgun.

  In the next room, the children’s room, Rafferty found Summertime, the retarded child, dead in his pajamas near his bedroom window.

  Rafferty was filled with horror and anguish.

  He fell back against the wall and let the pain flood him.

  Then, hearing a door downstairs slam shut, Rafferty ran to the stairs and took them three at a time.

  Rafferty met Jimmy Quint in the kitchen. Jimmy was weeping, bawling his anguish. Jimmy wore only cut-offs and tennis shoes. He held a hand gun limp in one hand.

  Rafferty spoke with studied calm. "Jimmy, it's me, Terry Rafferty."

  Jimmy shouted, "Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus, oh, God!"

  Jimmy jerked his hand at Rafferty, began firing his hand gun at Rafferty. Rafferty hit the floor, while Jimmy kept firing. The noises from the gun were drowned out by Jummy’s howls. Plaster exploded from the kitchen walls above and around Rafferty, and yet no bullets came near him.

  Rafferty screamed, "Jimmy! Stop! Stop!"

  But Jimmy Quint didn't know Rafferty was there. Rafferty threw himself sideways and backwards, started rolling, and hid behind the kitchen table. A bullet singed his scalp, and blood started down his forehead.

  Rafferty cried, "Jimmy!"

  Jimmy woke, realized he had shot at Rafftery, and was horrified with himself. He made a choking sound, then started howling like a ghoul. He ran from the kitchen. The screen door slammed behind him.

  Rafferty raced outside after Jimmy and saw him disappearing into the woods behind the house. A great throbbing, rumbling noise of helicopters overhead began, while the airwash clouded his eyes.

  The loudspeaker said, "Attention, this is the Sheriff's Department. Come outside with your hands on top of your heads. You are under arrest. Do not resist. Throw down your weapons and come outside. Attention, this is the Sheriff's Department. You are under arrest—"

  Surprised and caught off-guard, Rafferty watched as the helicopters approached and descended, while their noise hammered the air. Meanwhile several jeep wagons painted in county Sheriff's colors raced up the drive and fishtailed through the dust and stopped in front of Rafferty, their sirens wailing and their bar lights flashing. A raiding party of a dozen men in army fatigues and carrying AR-16s hit the Quint house, fanned out commando style and went off looking for trouble.

  Jack Draper aimed his AR-16 at Rafferty and flashed a billfold badge and photo ID. "Jack Draper, Special Agent, Drug Enforcement Agency! Freeze!

  Rafferty looked as if he had been hit with a brick wall. "DEA? What are you doing here? This is a homicide."

  Draper shoved Rafferty, grabbed his arms, jammed them up behind Rafferty's back, while twisting them backwards, then pushed Rafferty face first against the house.

  Draper said, "Up against the wall, mother-fucker!"

  Rafferty's face smacked the side of the house.

  "Spread 'em
!" Draper said.

  Draper kicked Rafferty's heels apart, then frisked him crudely, vulgarly. Rafferty got pissed and took the AR-16 away from him. Draper lunged at him and knocked the gun from Rafferty's hands. Rafferty tried hand-chopping Draper's neck, but Draper defected Rafferty's chop. Draper tried throwing Rafferty against the wall, and Rafferty sidestepped and punched Draper's face. He tried throttling Rafferty, and Rafferty kicked his right kneecap, then used judo to get him off-balanced, then jammed his knuckles into his kidneys. Draper smacked Rafferty in the neck with the edge of his hand, and Rafferty kicked him in the soft spot behind the uninjured kneecap of his left leg. Draper forearmed Rafferty, then rammed Rafferty's head several times against the house. Then Rafferty jabbed a thumb in Draper's eye.

  Behind them another helicopter landed, disgorging Sheriff Charles Hartman, who approached the battle with a bemused expression.

  Rafferty grabbed the Special Agent's crotch, twisted sharply, then elbowed the soft flesh of Draper's neck, then smacked his other fist into Draper's testicles.

  Sheriff Hartman made a gesture, and a half-dozen deputies pulled Draper and Rafferty apart.

  Rafferty threatened Draper. "If you ever fuck with me again like that, I'll kill you!"

  Draper coughed and choked. "Read him his rights and throw him in jail!"

  Hartman grinned at Rafferty. "Professional street-fighter, eh?" He gestured at Rafferty's wounded forehead, and Rafferty touched it. His fingers came back bloody. His scalp had been creased by Jimmy's stray shot.

  Sheriff Hartman examined the wound. "You'll live. But you won't enjoy it." He sobered. "You're being taken into custody for questioning.

  Some deputies came running up from the Quint house.

  The first deputy was nearly hyper-ventilating. "The whole family got slaughtered, Sheriff!"

  The second deputy was as badly shaken. "It's a massacre, Sheriff. There's blood all over."

  Hartman took command. "Get the lab team out here right now. I want that house sealed off. Call Doctor Deanna Wu, tell her she's needed. Also, call the county coroner's office and get the M.E. out here." He faced Rafferty. "We'll get to you. Don’t go away."

  * * *

  Later Sheriff Hartman and the lab chief Doctor Deanna Wu toured the scene of the crime, while dozens of lab technicians and deputies sketched, measured, diagrammed and photographed around them.

 

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