Mr Jones

by William Cain

He answers, “Yes. I am. I know the girl he’s marrying. She’s a detective.”

  “That’s right. They haven’t set a date yet, but there’s just so much to do.”

  “Well, I can believe that.” He’s shaking noticeably from the cocaine.

  “Is something wrong, Ken?”

  “No, not at all. I was thinking about the car accident that your son was in. Addie was desperate to get to New York quickly, and I lent her my plane. I’m glad he’s recovered.” Then he adds, “I’m very wealthy, and I was happy to do it.”

  Reggi replies, “Well, we know a lot about each other. You are perceived to be the wealthiest member in the club.”

  He answers back, quickly, “And you are perceived to be the poorest.”

  She glares at him, “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

  “Well, I’m not a very nice man.”

  Taken aback, she asks, “What do you mean by that?”

  He looks sideways at her and takes a sip of the iced tea that she poured for him, “You know I’ve heard a lot of stories recently.”

  Reggi, leading him, asks, “And?”

  Ken continues, “I hear that you and I are quite the item.”

  She looks at him guiltily.

  He rests his hand on her arm, “Someone told me that you and I are getting married.” He chuckles a little, “Isn’t that ridiculous?”

  She laughs quietly along with him. “We just know each other. I don’t know about getting married. Who would say anything like that?”

  Ken levels his gaze at her, “You would.”

  Appearing shocked, she answers, “What?”

  She’s a good actor, he thinks, “That’s right, Reggi, you’ve been telling people that you and I take vacations together. That we buy property together. That your name is going to be on the deed. That I have a driver who takes us around because I get too drunk. That we’re getting married soon. That’s what you’re telling people.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  After a short pause while the two of them look at each other, he takes his hand off her arm. He then asks, “Do you know who I am?”

  She replies shakily, “You’re Ken Jones.”

  “Do you know what happened to my wife?”

  “I heard that she passed away.”

  “Let me tell you who I am. My name is Gennarro Battaglia. I’m from Chicago. I ran a crime syndicate there. I’m a very bad guy. I’m connected. What I’ve done to my enemies would make your skin crawl. And I’ll tell you this last piece of worthy information, and you can take this as solid advice, just for you. Someone killed my wife. And whoever that is, is going to die painfully. Tortured.”

  Reggi’s eyes become very large and she looks confused and scared.

  At that, Ken Jones pulls out the papers that he’s been carrying in his pocket.

  “What’s that, Ken?”

  “This is your arrest record from forty some odd years ago.”

  Reggi instantly becomes angry. She knows what’s in it. “Where’d you get that? Give me that!” She hisses, reaching for the papers.

  Holding the papers out of her reach, he says, “No way are you getting this. It says here that the reason you were arrested, and I quote, ‘Subject attempted to inflict pain and injury to her husband through a repeated, blunt force impact to his facial cavity.’ In other words, Reggi, you tried to smash his face in while he was sleeping. You tried to cave his face in with a heavy salad bowl. Just like Elsie, my wife, when I found her that day last July, the bloody bowl lying beside her.”

  A dark silence has entered the room. She can’t meet his eyes.

  Outside, the rain pelts the windows and fierce lightning and thunder can be heard.

  Reggi replies quietly, “So what? So what if I killed her? She was in the way of us, of you and me.” She looks at Ken Jones and begs him, “I know you feel the same way about me as I do for you. Oh Ken!” And she begins to cry.

  Ken Jones looks at her with scorn and anger dancing wildly in his eyes, “You’re pathetic. You killed the one person in the world I cared for deeply. My wife.” He feels his uncontrollable anger welling up inside him. He’s almost there, at his utmost anger, quickly formulating what his next moves will be to bring pain and death to Reggi, and closure for his wife.

  After a long moment, Reggi excuses herself, “I have to go to the bathroom and get a tissue.”

  He watches her closely and tells her, “Keep the door open.”

  When she returns, Jones asks her, “Have you seen your son-in-law recently?”

  “Edwin?”

  Jones tells her, “He has some strange proclivities. Like little boys. I was with him earlier today.”

  She hisses menacingly, “What did you do to him?”

  Ken answers, “Nothing, but if I did, I’d…well, let’s not think about that. He wants my money. He thinks I’m marrying you. Look at yourself, Reggi. I can get any girl. My mistress is a stunning beauty. Not some old hag like yourself,” he sneers. Then almost lightheartedly he changes the subject and continues, “Edwin and I entertained the company of two hookers this morning. Take a look at this picture.” He shows her his phone message from the transvestite, Edwin bent over and the he-she behind him. “Really something, huh?”

  She looks at his phone and she’s disgusted with what she sees. Reggi begins to stand up and tells him, “I think you should leave now.”

  Ken Jones slaps her hard with his backhand, and Reggi cries out, but she doesn’t defend herself. With his other hand, he grabs her throat and slams her backward, her head jerking. But she doesn’t defend herself. He reaches into his pocket for the switchblade and pops it open, intending to inflict pain as he decides to remove her skin. But she still doesn’t defend herself.

  He lunges for her, pounces on top, and begins to strangle her with one hand, holding the blade close with the other, breathing heavily, smelly and hot. She doesn’t move but instead looks straight ahead, staring impassively into his eyes. His grip is tightening, and she continues to simply lie there, looking at him. He suddenly thinks it’s strange, this reaction of hers. She’s not struggling.

  And then he feels it. He loosens his grip and slowly backs away.

  Ken quizzically asks her, staring at the gun she’s holding, he’s incredulous, “Where the hell did you get that from? Who keeps a gun in their bathroom?”

  She levels the gun straight at his stomach, pulls the trigger, and a crack louder than the lightning deafens the living room. A large hole appears in his back as the bullet makes its exit, and his tissue and blood are everywhere. No one is more surprised than Ken Jones. And no one hears. Most of the residents are still in Florida for their winter getaways. People are just now returning.

  That’s the beauty of Heritage Hills.

  Chapter 24 The End

  May Day

  New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. Lao Tzu

  Frank returns to his mother’s home with Addie and David in tow. It’s raining like hell, lightning is close overhead. Jones wasn’t there when they knocked on his door. As Frank begins to walk down Reggi’s driveway, a loud pistol shot rings out. It’s definitely a blast from a gun, and he hurriedly starts to run towards the door. After the three of them enter, they briefly look around.

  Addie’s natural detective instinct now causes her to look over toward the freestanding coat rack. She sees an odd-looking coat. It’s unusual. She walks over to the coat rack and pulls the coat away. It looks like a wrap with holes for arms with leather trimmed at the top and bottom. Looking in the lining of the coat she sees two letters: E.B. It dawns on her that this is Elsie’s swing coat. Shit! It’s been there for months, and she curses her own carelessness.

  Ahead of her, Frank is calling out for his mother. As he walks into the living room, Reggi’s back is to him and she’s sitting, calmly staring through the sliding glass doors into the back of the house where the rain is falling heavily onto the deck. The lightning a
nd thunder are closer now, and the black clouds are very low. At times, the room lights up as if from the flash of a camera, throwing dark, sinister shadows on the walls.

  On the sofa, Reggi is thinking about her husband Joseph. She’s thinking about Frédérica. She’s thinking about Elsie. She’s thinking about Ginger, her dog; her grandson Frannie comes to mind, all the money she lost, the cheap car she has to drive now, their hotel stay in Positano, Heritage Hills Country Club, Addie, weddings. She looks at her naked left hand. There’s no ring there. She thinks about the cocktail parties, her daughter Megan, her daughter Charlotte, Edwin, Ken’s vast wealth, jet setting.

  She raises her heavy eyelids and focuses her eyes. Before her is Ken Jones, lying in a pool of blood, dying. “I’m so sorry for hurting you, but why did you attack me? The Ken Jones I know would never have done that. And we had such a bright future ahead of us.” Her gun is leveled at Gennarro Battaglia.

  With what little energy he has left, he rises to his knees, yelling to Addie, who has now also entered the room along with Juvieux, “She killed my Elsie!”

  Reggi then calmly tells him, “I see you’re in a lot of pain. Let’s make it better.” Before Addie can stop her, she holds the gun closer to Battaglia. Staring wildly at the huge barrel, he winces before she shoots him in the head, which jerks him backward violently and drives him onto the table behind.

  David is just gaping in astonishment, his hands on his head. It’s all happening so fast, out of control. There goes his state’s witness, and his promotion, with her killing Gennarro Battaglia.

  Then Reggi raises the gun to her temple. Addie quickly intervenes and yanks the pistol from her hand. She hears Frank crying behind her.

  She turns to take him into her arms, and they embrace.

  Addie finds she’s crying, too.

  Frank and Addie share one singular thought, that his mother is ill and needs help, and that they should have recognized it before all this killing. To end the madness. To prevent this pain and sadness.

  They both turn their heads towards Reggi, who is looking through them with a blank, numb expression, devoid of comprehension.

  Reggi begins to grin malevolently.

  Epilogue

  September

  A symposium segment is given by Addie.

  “This concludes my presentation of Maladaptive Daydreaming. To the subject, these daily, extended thoughts are real, detailed scripts played out for hours. Their experiences are as real as reality itself. One day, perhaps soon, this will become a more widely recognized mental illness. Thank you.” Captain Henson walks off stage.

  ◆◆◆

  The bachelor dinner is underway for Frank’s son, Frannie.

  He looks over at his son and he knows Frannie’s looking forward to his future with Agatha. In his toast to Frannie, he remembers the dearly departed. Reggi is one of them. He’s had her declared passed away in order to protect his mother from the press.

  ◆◆◆

  A speedboat skims the waters, traveling quickly over Lake Lure, pulling a skier.

  Gangi and Gen are in the boat with Jennifer, and behind them is Daphne on a single slalom ski. Gen’s stomach wound has healed. The bullet didn’t hit any organs. The headshot was off. Pistols are notorious for their poor aim. It struck him above the ear, near the rear of his head, biting off some skull, but his brain escaped impact. He’s healed.

  One hundred feet below the surface they’re speeding over, Edwin is resting in his car until the end of time, in cold, dark, murky water, free from sunlight.

  Gen tells Gangi that he’ll be going away for a long time. Juvieux has arrested him for killing Riggoti. Addie’s not happy with him, but she’ll get over it, he thinks.

  He looks over to Gangi and tells him, loudly above the din of the boat’s engines, “I have an idea. It’ll solve my problem and yours.”

  ◆◆◆

  Weeks later, Helen calls from Australia using a video app.

  Addie reaches to pick it up and Frank says, “You’re answering a phone call from a former hitman living in Australia. Really? Captain?”

  She replies, “Yes, Frank. Watch me.”

  When she picks up the phone call, she sees something is changed. Helen notices her surprised expression on the video call, “Don’t look so shocked! I had a nose job, a little facelift. Best of all, I got new boobs. Hey, Addie, guess who’s coming to see me?”

  “Who?”

  “You’d never guess in a million years. I’ll give you a hint. He’s bringing his daughter,” she says happily.

  When Addie ends the call and puts the phone down, she looks at Frank with a look of slight worry, “She’s coming back to finish some business. I don’t know exactly what that means.”

  ◆◆◆

  Juvieux is disappointed. He arrested Battaglia, Gangi, and Michael.

  But he’s pissed. Battaglia won’t turn state’s evidence. Still, he has an idea. And that idea involves someone very close to Biggie Battaglia.

  ◆◆◆

  Two weeks later, during Frannie and Agatha’s wedding reception, Frank is deep in thought, and he ducks into a small room where he can gather himself. He knows his mother needs help and her sickness has compelled him to reach out for what he wants and needs. Life’s too short.

  Addie joins him and he tells her, “I just need to get my arms wrapped around everything that’s happened. It’s not every day your mother is arrested for murder by your fiancé.”

  He looks at her and says, “Let’s plan our wedding, beginning tomorrow. We deserve to be happy too. Let’s plan our future.”

  ◆◆◆

  Reggi’s in a guarded mental facility on the outskirts of New York City, Woodside Psychiatric.

  Reggi is seated outside on a bench staring into space, speaking to someone who’s not there. She’s more deeply in her fantasy than ever before, but she’s happy. She believes Ken Jones is with her, and she talks to him animatedly.

  She pauses, keeping her eyes beneath her hat, when a delivery truck arrives. It’s the same truck every day, same driver. She’s making a mental note on the time of day, the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.

  The truck parks in the same spot, around one hundred feet from where she’s sitting. Just like it did yesterday. And the day before that.

  And… just like the day before that.

  To Be Continued

  in

  2020

  With Book 3

  and the ebook is free on five consecutive Mondays

  Send an email to williamcainauthor@gmail.com,

  get on the list,

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  Thank you!

  At this moment I’m thinking about my stories and my readers, and I want to write a thread that you’ll like and believe in. I have ideas that I cook up and then throw away, and then there are some that are inspired by my readers. Use the email below and send me your thoughts, inspiration for my books is from you! Dedication for my books is FOR you!

  I hope you enjoyed my writing as well as the storyline. If that’s the case, won’t you leave some feedback for me on Amazon. You may not know this, but I routinely give my eBooks away for free. If you ‘like my page’ on Facebook (william cain author), you'll receive notifications when I plan the next giveaway. As a rule of thumb, my ebooks are free on five Mondays every three months.

  I’m planning eight more volumes with Addie. There’s even a period piece based in Chicago that takes place in the forties, up to present day, and includes Addie meeting Biggie when she’s just sixteen.

  I’ll continue to do my best, making the mystery harder to solve with each Volume as it’s published, just like a crossword puzzle that’s easy on Monday and almost impossible on Sunday. Humbly, thank you once again for reading my novel.

  William Cain - williamcainauthor@gmail.com