by Jimmy Pudge
I opened the book, stared at the image of Claire, thinking about her smile and her tits.I was going to miss that bitch. I closed the passport. Why did she have the name Brenda on the passport? Was she a fugitive or trying to run away from something? Mal maybe. Maybe the illegal porn scene. Who knew?
“Alright, I’m going to get the hell on out of here,” Groefield said. “If you need anything, anything at all, you know where I’m at.”
“How about a refund?” Handy asked.
Groefield laughed. “Sorry, can’t help you.”
That fucking figures I thought to myself, closing the door and heading to the kitchen. I tossed the passport on the table and opened my laptop. I went to Word and tried to start working on Chapter 2 of my new novel.
Chapter 18
I had tried to write, and got maybe about fifteen hundred words in when I hit a wall. I was worried about Ron and Mal and this drop, and could not focus. I picked up a Richard Stark book, one of my favorites out there, and began to reread Butchers Moon. Parker always seems to have the answers. I mean even when he is against the wall, out manned and outgunned, he still thinks shit through, and makes out all right. I mean sometimes he doesn’t get the loot, but he is never beaten. Parker is one bad motherfucker, I wish I could be more like him. I got about two thirds into the book where Parker assembles a crew for a job of his own. This time the deal was personal. Same with me, though I wish I could call up people to help me handle this, seems like with Ron incapacitated I was on my own.
I must have fallen asleep because I was drooling on the book when I heard a banging on the door. I got up and looked around and was surprised I was in my place, and for some reason, for the first time in a long time, it felt good to be in this fucking disgrace for a place. I got up and pulled on a fresh t-shirt. My Warriors t-shirt, from the movie, a fucking kick ass film man, and cool shirt too, got it at the good will for like three bucks and its in good condition too.
The pounding became fiercer.
“All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
I walked over to the door and opened it and opened it and was surprised to see Fairfax and Stegman.
“Bout fucking time, Buddha belly.” Stegman pushed passed me and looked around. “I forgot what a shit hole this was.”
“Any news on finding my cousin?”
“Nothing yet, but don’t get ahead of yourself, we will get him. After we get Mal, we will lean on the fucker and we will find your cousin.”
I guess they were right, I needed to be patient, if Mal was busy at least he wasn’t cutting on Ron anymore. “Thanks man, I mean it, I mean, he is like the only family I have left. Hey, why don’t you come on in, your partner has already made himself at home.”
I jerked a thumb back to his partner who was sitting on the couch with his feet up on my coffee table/ dinner table/ work desk.”
“Maybe for a moment. We need to brief you for tonight anyway. But later we will set you up for sound and all and do a layout.”
He walked in and motioned for Stegman to move over and sat on the couch. Stegman moved over and felt something in his ass.
“What the fuck is this?”
He pulled out my copy of Butchers Moon. “What is this, some fairy romance crap?”
He looked at it and his expression changed. “Damn Buddha Belly, you like this stuff?”
I walked over and grabbed the book from his dirty paws. I could take the insults but don’t disrespect my books or taste in reading man, that’s just wrong. Stark was the man, well Stark was really Donald Westlake, but the pseudonym he used for his parker series was Richard Stark and I’d be damned if those weren’t the best series of genre books ever written.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Hey man, no worries, Stark is the shit man. I must have read all the books at least twice.”
I was impressed. “No shit?”
“No shit, I even have a signed hardcover of Man With The Getaway Face.”
“Fuck, man I’d kill to get my hands on that.”
We looked at each other, all three of us, and for the first time since this all began, had a laugh. My opinion of Stegman had increased significantly, he read, so he had a brain, and he had some good fucking taste. I mean I wasn’t gonna blow the guy, but maybe he wasn’t the giant douche bag he has been since I have met him.
“Look Handy we know you want justice for this Claire chick, and we don’t know if he did it or not, but it looks good. We will be nailing him for shit that will give him twice as much time as he may have gotten for the murder alone. His kidnapping and torture of your cousin and you actually witnessing the deed, will go along way to seal his coffin, you know that right?”
That sounded fucked up, but I guess that’s how it goes right. Fucked up. I was going to object, to say something but hoped that well if Mal gets sent to prison maybe Ron knows someone inside who can shank the cock sucker, so all wasn’t lost.
I needed to get my shit together for tonight. This was life and death and while I can talk a good game and lie my ass off, this was the real deal. Life and death. Fairfax pulled out a flash drive from his pocket and set it down on the table.
“We are giving you some dummies, just like this one. The techs are setting them up so they mirror the shit you gave us. It will list all the titles of the Mp4s and AVIs and whatever of that crap was on the drives you had given us. Now when he pops it into a machine, he may randomly play one or two of them to see it’s legit, the techs are setting it up so they will play but only like sixty seconds or so.”
“Just like in the motels.”
“What the hell you talking about tubby?”
It was good to see that Stegman hadn’t gotten soft on me after all.
“Say you want to order a movie, or some porn, we have the pay per view thing set that you can see a preview then it cuts off. Fortunately that preview is all I need if you know what I mean.”
They both looked at me with what looked like disgust, or indigestion, I could never tell. Stegman got up and stretched his legs. Fairfax replaced the flash drive in his pocket. “That’s about it Handy, we are going to wire you up and set you loose. Are you familiar with the layout of the town?”
“Hell yeah, they got this cool Motorcycle museum right near them cabins, I been there and across the river they got the Whistle Stop, best damned fried green tomatoes I have ever eaten. You guys ever been?”
“Can’t say that I have,” said Fairfax.
“I have, nice little town. They built that up especially for the movie Fried Green Tomatoes.”
Stegman was full of surprises today. And almost in unison we both said, “The secret is in the sauce.”
“Damn Hand Job, I am beginning to like you, I best leave before we have ourselves some kind of suck fest. Fairfax can give you the other details” He walked past me and clasps me on the back and left. I sat beside Fairfax and let him run down the plan. He took about another twenty minutes and I was to meet him at seven at the gas station/bait shop near where this was all going to go down. It was the closest place we could actually meet, Juliette is a tiny town, and a good portion of it is the commercial strip that was build to look like the town in the movie. Then was the entrance to where the cabins and a small farm was and the Motor cycle museum. The train rain right through the town almost every forty minutes. I don’t know how you can get used to that but you can. I once stayed at one of the cabins and fished like every day. It wasn’t too expensive neither and I walked my fat ass over to the Whistle Stop every day for the FGT and whatever cobbler they made fresh. Damn, my tongue was hanging out, but I couldn’t go there for something to eat until this was done, I may blow my cover. I managed to listen to Fairfax, mostly and it all sounded good to me.
Stegman and a female detective rented another cabin and they would have eyes and ears on the cabin that Mal was going to be in for when it went down. Mal had rented the place for a week and paid up front. They said he got in late last night and had a
stream of women coming in since then, they figured he was making more movies, but at least, Fairfax said, these ladies left of their own accord.
#
After they left I tried to get some writing done, and amazingly I wrote another four thousand words. Not all of them were Shakespeare but it’s a start. I like to get all my shit out before I edit or change anything so I just wrote and when I looked up I had about fifteen double spaced pages full. It was a good feeling to be able to write and not have to sit and struggle with block. I was hungry, and remembered I had shit in the fridge so I drove down near where I needed to meet up with the dynamic duo and stopped at this Chinese Buffet. I had been having a craving for Chinese food since the other night when I fell into that dumpster.
The buffet had a few people in it, it was never really busy and they had small portions in the buffet, if you wanted something they would make a fresh batch for you, they didn’t want to waste the food they say, but I think its so fat asses like me don’t eat them out of house and home, in fact when I asked for a third refill of soda she almost blew a gasket. After I ate I had some time to kill, so I pulled up to the meeting place, parked and finished the book I started reading last night. Sometimes the greatest feeling in the world is having the time to just sit and read a good book. I know it sounds weird coming from such a worldly guy like me, but it’s true.
I finished the book and saw it was time to meet up with Officer Krupkee and his sidekick. I pulled out and drove to the store, and parked out back like I was told. There were several vehicles there including a surveillance van and square, boxy looking emergency vehicle. The road that took me to the meeting place was about a mile straight down and new they can be there in seconds, there wasn’t even a light on the way down, so I wasn’t too worried.
Some skinny guy with a pock marked face came up to me. “Remove your shirt.”
“Damn you didn’t even offer to buy me dinner yet.”
“Great, another wise ass.”
I guess he wasn’t a connoisseur of my humor. Its all right it is an acquired taste. At least the ladies love it..
He taped a small wire to my chest, and told me to tuck this small box, the size of a pack of camels under my nut sack. I thought it was an odd request, but figured what the hell. I thought these wires were a lot smaller, I guess in the big city they are but not here, I just hoped I didn’t get a case of swamp ass and electrocute my self.
Fairfax made an appearance, and reached into his pocket.
“Here you go Handy, remember, he can try any one of these, don’t worry, but if he looks like he’s gonna take forever looking at one video try to distract him, I believe we have about ninety seconds on each thumbnail. Also, try to get him to say anything incriminating, use that anger of yours about the girl. He may decide to say something, or something about your cousin.”
I nodded. “Did Stegman get the cabin next door?”
“All set up, though seems Mal hasn’t left so we couldn’t put a listening device into the room so you are it for sound. For video as well for that matter. He had the shades pulled since when he arrived yesterday. Not so much as a crack of light got in so we have no eyes. But we are close, so don’t worry, we have your back.”
We ran down everything too many times to mention. I was getting bored as a fuck, but I could see they wanted it all to go down smoothly, this would be the career making bust for these guys, probably the whole of the department, hell even the state. International porn peddlers and procurers of snuff was big fucking news, and they were going to blow the lid off this shit and it was only because I was involved, so I guess I am the one who was bringing down the big dogs, but I really didn’t give a crap about any of that. I wanted Mal to pay for what he did to Claire, period. Everything else was a bonus. I love porn like the next guy, don’t get me wrong, most of the fiction I publish borders on porn, but I don’t go in for all this other crap, especially not torture and then even murder. None of that. I know when whoever is behind this, Mal and his partners go to jail, they will pay. We have our own way of dealing out justice in the joint. But again, that’s another story for another time.
It was almost time. I got into the truck and drove down the main road and eventually drove over the tracks, the train had just passed, so the next one wouldn’t be due for about forty minuets. I drove through the wrought iron gates and saw that there were two horses still grazing in the paddock and smiled. I love horses. I drove down, further pass the Motorcycle museum and up toward the third cabin. It gets really dark out here and there were no lights except from a cabin window down a little farther and a porch light on another one. I thought I saw something move in the darkness but it was probably my eyes playing tricks on me. I was surprised no one was outside of their cabins, by a fire. There are little pits next to each cabin to make a fire. I would have lit a fire. I reached into my pocket and felt the dummy thumb drives and swallowed dryly. I needed a beer in the worst way, and new I would grab a couple of 40’s as soon as this was over. I started up the stairs and stood in front of the door. I knocked but there was no answer. I knocked a little harder and the door opened. I stepped inside but it was pitch black. I remembered where the switches were from being in one a few summers back. I turned on the light.
The room was awash in blood, and on the bed, laid Mal. Or what was left of him. He was naked and had been cut from the neck down to his the very end of his love trail. And I mean the very end. I was surprised his package was still attached. On second look it wasn’t. I moved closer to see, well I don’t know what the fuck I thought Id see, he was fucking dead man. His junk was missing and I looked down at the floor and saw a blood trail of sorts toward the kitchen area, which was merely a ledge with, a sink and a microwave. Below that was a mini fridge. I edged over to the sink and that’s when I saw his junk lying there in a bloody clump in the sink. It was all I could do from losing my lunch right there, but I gagged and held it in.
I may have been a weirdo but I thought that it was all too soon, I was curious, and had a weird feeling I was being watched, but not from the next cabin, from right inside. I didn’t know if anyone was still in the cabin, but I was creeped out. I mean the only place to hide was under the bed or in the bathroom. I dropped flash drive and then got on my knees to retrieve it, peeking under the dust ruffle I noticed nothing was under the bed. It felt cool on the floor, and I felt like crawling under the bed and staying there until this was all over, but that wasn’t an option. I sucked it up and got up. I looked toward the bathroom. Then as stealthily as possible, I inched up to the bathroom door and swung it open violently. I forgot it had a spring on it and it slammed into me knocking me down into the bathroom, face first onto the commode. However, that’s all that happened. No one came bounding out. I was lucky. Stegman and Fairfax would have to follow the money trail, or rather the pussy trail, or whatever fucking trail there was, they needed some other way to find the players in this international porn ring. At least this fucker was dead, and for me, it was all over. All over that is, except for getting my cousin back.
Chapter 19
The cops came crawling out of the woodwork like ants, combing the scene, showing me photographs and asking questions. I just kind of sat there, taking it all in, my mind focused on my cousin, wondering why he hadn’t been at the cabin. Was he dead somewhere in a forest, buried in red clay? I didn’t know, but the thoughts haunted me like ghosts as the fuzz swarmed by like honey bees collecting nectar from the sweet crime scene of Mal’s death.
“Tell me one more time what you saw, what you said, what happened,” Fairfax said in the interrogation room, the mini-recorder’s red light glowing on the tabletop. I stared at myself in the two-way mirror, wondering just how in the hell I had wound up in this fucked up mess. Someone upstairs must have had it in for my ass.
I took a deep breath, took a long sip of Coke from the can, and finally said, “You had me wired. You already know what went down. Why the fuck do I need to recount this shit?”
�
�Evidence,” Fairfax said, motioning to the recorder. “We need your statement to play during the trial when we catch the fellow who gutted that piece of shit.”
“Look man, I knocked on the cabin door, and nobody answered. I knocked again and the door just kind of cracked open, wasn’t even shut all the way. I stepped inside and there he was, laid out on the bed, fucking slit open like a fish.”
“What else do you recall?” Fairfax said.
“There was blood all over the place. Looked like someone thought it would be fun to dip their hand in the corpse, get it all bloody and finger-paint on the wall. Nasty shit, man. Still has my stomach turning.”
“Can you remember anything else?”
“Yeah, he was wearing New Balance tennis shoes. Those are comfortable shoes, man.”
“Don’t be a smart ass. Do you remember anything we can use down the road? Maybe develop a lead with?”
“Let’s see,” I said, “I think I saw movement in the dark before I reached the cabin.”
Fairfax nodded. “Forensics, just from looking at the crime scene, thinks Mal was killed several hours before you came upon the body.”
“Shit. Well, could have been anyone in the darkness. Maybe it was my imagination. I was scared you know. Didn’t know what would happen to Ronald.”
“We’ll find Ronald,” Fairfax said. “But for right now, let’s go back to what you saw in the darkness. Let’s say this could have been our killer, alright? That means the motherfucker was with the body for hours.”
I shot out of the seat, leaned over the interrogation table.
Fairfax moved back in his chair.
“I’ve already answered too many fucking questions. I’m going to find my cousin.”
Fairfax sighed. “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t get involved in our investigation. You’ll fuck shit up, and we’ll stall. You won’t find your cousin unless we find Mal’s killer, Handy. I’m pretty sure about that.” Fairfax shut off the recorder. “Fact is, your cousin is probably dead.”
