Fourth Wall

by Jason Blacker

  Roberts looked at me and shook his head briefly and quickly. He knew what was gonna be coming next. I had walked towards the kitchen now and I was staring down Orpen who had shifted his gaze to Roberts. The model was stirring her coffee. He looked at her quickly.

  “Get,” he said in a demanding tone. She finished up and started walking towards the furthest part of the living room which became a lounge. It was opposite from where I had been standing looking out into the backyard. She sat down on an expensive looking couch and crossed her legs. The shirt opened up and lay on the outside of her breasts. She might as well have been topless. I didn’t stare. I was more interested in Orpen. She was far enough that in hushed voices she probably couldn’t hear what we were talking about.

  “Is she number two thousand?” I asked. “You big baller.”

  I was grinning at him. He grinned at me like we were old pals. Little did he know I was baiting him. Roberts gave me a look but I didn’t look back.

  “Na man, that bitch is number two thousand and fifteen. A fine piece of ass.”

  Bingo, we had a winner. I sent him a solid jab with my left that took him by surprise square on the nose. It was hard enough to make it bleed and water his eyes but it wasn’t hard enough to break it. His head snapped back, more from the surprise of it than the force and his coffee spilt all over his nice clean wife beater and onto the white marble counter in his kitchen.

  “Jesus, Anthony,” I heard Roberts say under his breath.

  Beeves looked over at me with a frown on his face and a quizzical look in his eye as if he couldn’t quite believe what he saw. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the model smiling at us sitting on the couch with her nipples hard as nails.

  “Fucking hell,” the douchebag said. “You’ve busted my nose.”

  He touched it tenderly, and grabbed at a paper towel. Then he realized his wife beater was soaked with warm coffee. He grabbed more paper towel and dabbed at his nose and at his wife beater. He looked back at me.

  “Your nose ain’t busted. I’ve busted noses and yours ain’t one of them.”

  “I’m gonna have your fucking badge. You can’t just come into my house and assault me.”

  “I don’t have a badge,” I said, still grinning at him.

  Roberts shook his head and smiled. He’d seen this before.

  “I’m gonna have all your jobs,” he said, looking at all of us.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For fucking assaulting me in my own house,” he said.

  I looked at Roberts.

  “Did you see him get assaulted?” I asked.

  Roberts shook his head and turned his mouth into a frown.

  “I didn’t see anyone get assaulted. I did see you spill your coffee on yourself. As for the nosebleed, I can’t explain that. Maybe it’s too much coke.”

  “Yeah, probably too much coke,” I said. “I bet if we go looking around here we might find some coke.”

  Orpen looked at Beeves.

  “Sorry, I can’t help you friend,” said Beeves. “I didn’t see anyone get assaulted. It’s just like my Captain said.”

  “You’re all a bunch of corrupt fucking assholes,” he said. Then he turned towards the model sitting against the far wall.

  “You saw them assault me, didn’t you? Don’t lie to me bitch.”

  This guy didn’t learn his lesson. I gave him a left right under the ribs and he doubled over almost falling onto his knees.

  “That’s enough, Anthony,” said Roberts, speaking sternly like a reprimanding father. Orpen grunted. Tried to suck air through a straw. He tried to punch me back but it was ineffectual and it wrote to me from last week. I just dodged and the momentum of it took him onto the floor. Most likely because the floor he was standing on was slippery from spilt coffee.

  When he got back up he was breathing better and his nose was starting to congeal blood in little red balloons that grew and shrank with each breath.

  “I told you not to speak to her like that,” I said. I wasn’t smiling at him anymore. He turned to look at her.

  “You saw that, right? You saw he hit me twice?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, darling, I’m giving you privacy. I’m not paying attention to what’s going on over there.”

  “Fuck!” he yelled and then quickly the air from his arrogance left. He went back to cleaning his nose. Then he took some paper towel and wiped up the floor and his feet and then the counter.

  “Make yourself some more coffee and when you’re feeling more cordial we’ll chat,” I said.

  “I need to change first,” he hissed and went up the stairs the model had not long ago come down from.

  “I can see how you got fired,” said Beeves, still looking at me sideways. “That’s not how we do things now.”

  “It wasn’t how we did things back then either,” said Roberts, “but Anthony has his own ways sometimes.”

  “I wasn’t fired,” I said. “I left of my own volition. Besides, Johnny Rotten here will tell you I never got charged with excessive force.”

  “Really?” asked Beeves, raising his eyebrows at Roberts.

  “True story. There were complaints, lots of them, but none of them stuck.”

  “That’s because I never got touchy-feely with anyone that didn’t deserve it. You can’t tell me you weren’t eager to give him a pop on the nose?”

  “Well sure, but that’s not how we do it.”

  “I get that. But watch how smoothly things go now. And I’ll bet you dollars for dimes that he’s not gonna call on IA after we’re done.”

  “I think you mean dollars for donuts,” said Roberts, grinning.

  “I like to mix them up sometimes. Basically, I’m giving young Beeves here at least ten to one odds that he’s not gonna have to say boo to IA.”

  The model came back up towards us.

  “I’ll make him some coffee,” she said. “Would any of you gentleman like some?”

  “You’re a doll,” I said, winking at her. She smiled at me.

  Roberts and Beeves declined.

  “How long have you been seeing Orpen?” I asked probably knowing the answer.

  “Just last night,” she said. “And that’ll probably be all.”

  “You know about his mission.”

  “To sleep with as many women as he can?” she asked.

  I nodded. She filled up the kettle and turned it on. She scooped coffee into the press she’d just rinsed out.

  “I knew what I was getting into,” she said. “I just didn’t realize he was such an asshole, that’s all.”

  “And you don’t mind?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  “He’s going to introduce me to his agent,” she said.

  “And you believe him?”

  “I have insurance. I have a little something in my back pocket.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “You interested?”

  “Would be if I wasn’t with someone. You’ve got a lot to offer.”

  She might be drop dead gorgeous but I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole wearing a hazmat suit.

  “Saga,” she said. “Saga Björk.”

  She spelled her name out for me because it sounded like ‘sawga’ not like an epic tale that it was spelled like. The kettle whistled and she took it from its base and poured the water into the press. Like most models her bosoms were small but well shaped. Her nipples small and pink. I wasn’t staring. They were gawking at us.

  “That Norwegian?” I asked.

  “Swedish,” she said.

  “You don’t sound Swedish,” I said.

  “I came over when I was six,” she said.

  I nodded my head.

  “How did you meet Orpen?”

  “I was at the play last night and went backstage during intermission. Then his bodyguard brought me here.”

  “So you didn’t see the end of the play?”

  She shook her hea
d.

  “No, that was awful what happened to her. Is that why you’re here?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  There were more pitter patter of feet coming down the stairs. Orpen was now dressed in a pair of blue jeans and bare feet and a black t-shirt that had the name of the band Magnetic Maniacs on it with their mascot which reminded me of one of the Call of Duty ghosts.

  “Can I get your number in case we need to speak with you?” asked Beeves.

  She nodded at him and gave it to him. He wrote it down in his notebook.

  “See, we’re all becoming friends,” I said, grinning at him.

  “I made you some more coffee, darling,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. He didn’t say anything. She poured a mug for him and a mug for me. She topped up her own. I let numnuts fill his coffee with cream first then I took my share of it and the sugar.

  “Let’s go sit on your expensive couch and try not to stain it with our coffees,” I said.

  I led the way. Leading young Orpen like an orphan to slaughter. It was a large L-shaped sofa with a couple of matching chairs facing it. The longer part of the L looked out towards the backyard and a projector screen was attached along the top that would come down across the windows for movie watching.

  Orpen sat on the short end of the L against the far wall. I took the first chair closest to the longest part of the L and closest to Björk. Roberts took the other chair and Beeves stood to his right.

  “You’re wearing a Magnetic Maniacs tee,” said Roberts. “That’s helpful because that’s what we want to talk to you about.”

  “They’re a heavy rock band,” he said. “I happen to like them. That’s not a crime.”

  Roberts shook his head.

  “Nobody’s accusing you of any crime,” said Roberts, “except for maybe not hanging onto this beautiful woman here.”

  She smiled at him. I grinned. Roberts was bringing his A game to the table. Orpen didn’t say anything.

  “What we want to talk about is Friday night at Anna Ancher’s party.”

  “What about it?”

  “You were there, right?”

  “Yeah, I went with Mary.”

  “And you and Mary are just friends, or more than that?”

  “Just friends.”

  I had the feeling he was being less than truthful, but we rolled with it.

  “A sweet little old lady from across the way saw a fight out on the street at around midnight,” I said.

  Orpen just glared at us and sipped his coffee. I did the same. It was good coffee.

  “Says you and Peso weren’t seeing eye to eye about something,” I said.

  Orpen kinked his neck to one side. It was like a half assed shrug.

  “Would you prefer the more intimate and cozy environment of the police station?” I asked.

  That got his attention.

  “Yeah, me and Peso had a little disagreement.”

  “I’d say it was more than that. I heard you threw punches.”

  “He took a swipe at me first. I just defended myself.”

  “Why would he take a swipe at you?” I asked.

  “Because I told him to chill out and he didn’t. He was high on something and probably drunk. He had come to Anna’s place uninvited and then when she told him to leave, I helped him out and that’s when he got real pissed.”

  “Yeah, what did he say?”

  “Lots of things, he was like an overflowing sewer of filth coming from his mouth. Most of it aimed at Anna. He was calling her all sorts of names.”

  Orpen looked from me to Roberts to Beeves and then to Björk, then back to me.

  “You want me to tell you what he said?”

  I shook my head.

  “That’s alright. We’re in polite company. I get the gist of it.”

  “So I’m helping him out and he’s yelling and screaming. Anna’s out there with us, that’s me and Mary, and I push him off the property and tell him to be more respectful to her…”

  “Like you were with Saga here?” I asked.

  He looked at her and then shot a hot look at me.

  “That’s on you. You fucking assholes got me riled up.”

  I shook my head.

  “You missed your appointment,” I said. “And let’s keep the tone civil in here.”

  I stared at him hard. He shrunk like a wallflower.

  “Carry on,” I said.

  “Well, some of the other people at the party came out to see what was going on. That’s when I went to turn away and he hit me across the back of the head. I swung around and hit him back, then we started wrestling a bit but not for long because some of the others broke us up.”

  “Who broke you up?”

  “A couple of dudes from the party. I don’t know them.”

  “Who do you know from the party? We were told there were thirteen people there.”

  “I wasn’t counting.”

  “Tell us who was there that you knew?”

  “Me, Mary, Anna of course, it was her party. Rip was there for a while uninvited. Patricia Kordel and her friend Miki Smelter…”

  “When you say friend, do you mean friend or something else?”

  Orpen rolled his eyes and sipped more coffee.

  “I mean friend. They’re all friends. Some just closer than others. Miki and Pat have been close friends ever since high school. There was also Ashlee Toseland and Marissa Jonak. They both live on Vallendais.”

  Orpen paused for a moment to think. He drank coffee.

  “Um, oh yeah, that assistant from the play was there, Gina Penman and Valarie Merwitz. Oh, and last of all was my buddy Clifton Gudaitis.”

  I looked at Roberts and Beeves. Beeves was taking notes.

  “I count eleven.”

  Roberts nodded.

  “Yeah, well there were those two guys that broke up the fight. I don’t know them.”

  “Describe them to us,” I said.

  “The one guy sounded like he could be gay. He was the younger one. Probably about my height. Maybe late thirties or early forties. Brown hair and in good shape. He works out. The other dude was old, probably sixty, black hair that had to have been dyed. Also around my height, slim. That’s all I know. I think someone had said they were neighbors.”

  “Maybe Kyle Labecki and his partner Gary Verukin,” I said, looking at Roberts and Beeves.

  “Yeah,” said Orpen, nodding, “I think I heard the name Kyle. He didn’t sound gay though.”

  “What happened after the fight was stopped?”

  “Well, we all went back inside. Peso left with Val. She’s into rock stars. I guess they’re knocking boots now or something.”

  “And why was Peso so upset with Ancher?” asked Roberts.

  “They’d split up a while ago. Some weeks, a couple of months, I dunno, anyway, I guess he wanted her back.”

  “Did he threaten her?”

  “Yeah, he said he was gonna kill her if he couldn’t have her.”

  “And you didn’t think this was important to tell the police?” asked Roberts.

  “I am telling you now.”

  “I’m talking about last night?”

  “Last night were a couple of patrol officers who didn’t give a shit about anything except heading back to the coffee shop to eat donuts. They spent like three minutes walking around and telling us to keep it down and then they left. They didn’t give a shit about the argument. Didn’t even take any notes.”

  Roberts didn’t say anything.

  “Listen, I might like the Magnetic Maniacs but that doesn’t mean I like Rip. He’s a hot-headed asshole. He flies off the handle at anything, but killing someone, nah, I don’t think so.”

  “Until he does,” said Roberts.

  Orpen shrugged and drank more coffee. Mine was almost finished. And piling it on top of the OJ and coffee I’d had this morning was making me think of the can.

  “Where’s the washroom?” I asked.

  “Just down the hall on your l
eft,” said Orpen.

  I went to use the washroom. It was spacious for a toilet and sink. I looked in the medicine cabinet and found Percocet, Ritalin and Lunesta. I left everything where I found it and returned to the sofa.

  “I was just asking Orpen here if he’d seen any drugs at Ancher’s place,” said Roberts.

  I nodded.

  “He said there were plenty of drugs, but none when the uniforms came about the noise complaint.”

  “What kinds of drugs?” I asked Roberts.

  “We were just getting to that,” said Roberts.

  We both looked at Orpen.

  “Coke and marijuana,” he said.

  “What about prescription pills?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t know about that, I didn’t see any. That’s not how we roll.”

  “That’s funny,” I said, “because when we got there yesterday morning it looked like a pharmacy had just opened up for business.”

  He shrugged and turned his palms up. His coffee mug was empty on the coffee table between us.

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m just telling you what I saw.”

  “What time did you leave?” I asked.

  “Around one.”

  “And who did you leave with?”

  “Me and Mary left together. I gave her a ride home.”

  “We heard you had brought Gina along with you,” said Roberts.

  Orpen nodded.

  “Yeah, that’s right. She caught a ride. We came straight from the theater. She wanted to stay for a while longer and help clean up a little.”

  “So you left her behind?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she wanted. Why you asking?”

  “Just trying to figure things out,” said Roberts.

  Orpen looked at him and shook his head.

  “Man, I’ll tell you right now. Gina had nothing to do with it. She’s as shy as a bluebird. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “How do you all know each other so well?” I asked.

  “We’re the Y2K gang,” he said, grinning. “We all graduated in two thousand from Millstone Academy.”

  I had heard of it. It was arguably the top private high school in California. Accepted both girls and boys from grade nine to graduation. If rumors were right, it cost hapless parents over twenty-five thousand a year for tuition.

  “You all know each other from Millstone then?” I asked.