The Big Enchilada (A Sam Hunter Mystery Book 1)

by L. A. Morse

  Mountain looked down, saw the blood streaming out of the wound, saw the shreds of muscle hanging loosely, saw the ragged edge of bone protruding. He didn’t scream in pain. He didn’t collapse on the floor. He didn’t even slow down. The unnatural son of a bitch just grunted as if to say “So that’s that,” and continued toward me.

  I tried to scramble for the gun, but he got to me before I got to it. He bent down and grabbed me around the throat with his remaining hand. The fingers closed below my jaw like a vise. With no more effort than if I had been a rag doll, he picked me up. Blood was still pouring from the stump of his arm, but he lifted me off my feet, straightened his arm, and raised me above the level of his head. I didn’t know how long he could hold me there before he was weakened by loss of blood, but I knew I didn’t have much longer to go before I was choked to death. I was seeing things through a red haze that was quickly turning to black. My windpipe felt like it was about to collapse.

  I made a sudden thrust and jammed my thumbs into the corner of each of his tiny pig eyes. He started to growl. I would have as well, but I couldn’t make a sound. He increased the pressure on my throat and jaw. I continued to press as hard as I could on his eyes, even as I was about to pass out. Finally I felt something give beneath my fingers. Warm blood ran over my thumbs and down my wrists. He screamed, and I was dropped to the floor.

  He rubbed his one hand over his eyes, smearing blood across his face. He tried to clear his vision, but there was nothing there to clear. One eye was closed tight in pain. The other was only a bright red socket.

  He turned his head from side to side, trying to locate me. He roared once again and ran in the direction he thought I was. His aim was pretty good, but I managed to pull myself to one side. As he stepped over me, I stuck a leg up, tripping him. He staggered forward, flailing his arms, trying to regain his balance. His great weight and his momentum carried him forward until he hit the glass wall of the terrarium. The glass was thick, but not thick enough to withstand the force of 500 pounds of madman. Mountain gurgled in panic as the glass broke, cutting him deeply in his thick neck, and he fell into the snake pit. There were lightning flashes of moving color, black and green and striped. The snakes struck repeatedly at the intruder who had shattered their peace. Mountain made several convulsive movements and then lay still. Domingo looked on, unmoving, an expression of mild curiosity on his face.

  I crawled over, picked up the gun, and struggled to my feet. Using both hands, I pointed it at him. We stood like that for several minutes. My lungs started to function properly. Strength returned to my muscles and the trembling diminished.

  Domingo looked unruffled. He broke the silence. “Very impressive, Hunter. Very impressive. I didn’t think anyone could take Mountain, but I guess that none of us are invulnerable. I had thought that I was invulnerable, but I suppose I’m not.” He gave a philosophical shrug.

  “Look, Domingo,” I said and then paused. My voice sounded raspy and harsh, and it hurt when I spoke. I swallowed hard several times to lubricate my throat, and it felt better. “Now that I’ve got the gun on you, maybe you’ll believe me. I didn’t set you up.” I thought I would give it another try.

  “Under the circumstances I have to believe you. But if you weren’t the one, who was?” Finally.

  “Ratchitt.”

  “Why would he do that? He stood to lose as much as I. Maybe more, because my resources are greater.”

  “There was pressure on him. The department was about to come down on him. He had to bargain. He sold you out.”

  “Possibly. But I don’t think it’s true.”

  “We can find out.”

  “How?”

  “I know Green, the assistant D.A. who was behind the raids. We’ll call him and I’ll ask.”

  Domingo looked skeptical but finally nodded. “All right. But I’ll place the call. Just to be sure I’m talking to the D.A. and not to some friend of yours.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He called information and got the number of the District Attorney’s office. He had to ask for Green several times as he was transferred. When he got the right connection he handed the phone to me I held it so Domingo could hear what Green said.

  Green and I exchanged a few pleasantries, just like we had arranged, and then he asked me what I wanted.

  “I heard about your busy night. Congratulations. That won’t hurt your career.”

  “No, it won’t. Things went pretty well.”

  “How’d you get the information to set it up?”

  “It was the result of a long investigation by the police department.”

  Domingo inhaled sharply.

  “Who did it?” I said.

  “A lot of people were involved, but it was mainly Detective Thomas Ratchitt of Vice. He set it up. He’ll get a commendation and maybe a promotion out of this.”

  Domingo’s face grew dark, his jaws clenched, and he bit through his cigar. He didn’t seem to notice that it dropped to the floor. He bought it. But then why shouldn’t he? It was coming from the D.A.

  I thanked Green, congratulated him again, and told him I’d be in touch as he hung up.

  “Convinced?” I said.

  “That double-crossing son of a bitch.”

  “What now?”

  “Nothing’s changed.”

  “You were leaving?”

  “Yeah. It seemed like a good idea.”

  “And you were taking your blackmail material and your dope with you?”

  “To help me get established again.”

  “Forty pounds of smack and a suitcase full of incriminating photos should be enough to do that.”

  “Should be. But I don’t see what difference it makes to you. Why bother to convince me about Ratchitt? What’s your interest?”

  “Couple of things. I’ll feel more comfortable if you know that I didn’t cross you.” He thought about that and nodded. “I’m still hot—too hot. I want to get away. You can help me.” He looked steadily at me. “Also, as things have turned out, you’ve lost your bodyguard. The kind of life you live, you could use one. I might consider taking over, but only if the price was right.”

  “How much?”

  “A piece of the action. I’d want to be partners with you. I’m willing to forget past differences, and I could make an active contribution to the business.... It could work out well for both of us.”

  “It might. It might, indeed. Perhaps I underestimated you.” He thought for a minute. “If you were my partner, what do you think is the first thing we should do?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Wipe Ratchitt.”

  “At least we see things the same way, Hunter. The question is, how to do it. He’ll be very careful.”

  “I’ll get him up here.”

  “Do that, if you can. After we deal with that dirty prick, we’ll discuss a more permanent arrangement.”

  I said that was fine with me and went to the telephone. It took a couple of calls before I got Ratchitt. He didn’t sound good when he came on.

  “This is Hunter. You’d better get up to Domingo’s right away. He’s about to take off with all the assets of the partnership.”

  “What!”

  “He’s making a deal with the D.A. He’s turning you in for Watkins’s murder and he’s going to disappear... with lots of stuff that belongs to you.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I just know it. If you’re interested you’d better get up to his house.” I hung up.

  “Shit, Hunter, was that smart?” the fat man said.

  “You want him up here, don’t you? How do you expect to get him? ‘Mr. Harvey Millicent requests the company of Detective Thomas Ratchitt because he wants to off him?’ He’ll be up here in no time.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

  I was a little too confident.

  Domingo went to pack some clothes and things for his immediate departure. Everything was going accor
ding to plan, and I had succeeded in pitting Ratchitt and Domingo against one another. When thieves fall out...

  A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I realized how wiped out I was from the fight with Mountain. My legs started to shake again, and I sank heavily into one of the deep armchairs. It felt pretty good. Too good, in fact, because I must have dozed off. The next thing I knew, Ratchitt was standing next to me, his gun pressed against my temple. Shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My first assignment as Domingo’s bodyguard, and I blew it.

  I cautiously looked around. One of the glass doors out to the rear yard was open. At least I knew how he came in.

  “Don’t make any quick moves, Hunter,” Ratchitt said. “Nice and easy, pick up your gun by the barrel and hand it to me.

  My gun was lying on the arm of the chair. I did as he said. He looked at the weapon.

  “It’s a fucking cannon. What are you after? Elephants?”

  “Mostly rodents and other vermin.”

  “Don’t get funny.” He put his own gun back in his shoulder holster and kept my .357 trained on me. “Stand up slowly and spread. I want to see if you’ve got any surprises hidden on you.”

  He frisked me thoroughly, and, when he was through, he motioned me into the center of the room. This was getting awkward.

  “Hey, Ratchitt, I’m not feeling very good. I’ve got a few busted ribs, courtesy of Mountain Cyclone, and maybe some other broken stuff. Can I sit down, or do you want me to pass out in the middle of the floor?”

  “You can pass out anywhere you fucking well want. But go ahead, sit down.”

  I sank gratefully onto the couch. More gratefully than Ratchitt could realize, because, as I pressed my hand onto a cushion, I felt the hard shape that told me the gun was still there. And a good thing, too, the way events were going.

  Ratchitt glanced at the body of Mountain but said nothing. He was far more interested in the two suitcases Domingo had filled from the vault.

  “So he was leaving, the fat bastard,” he said to himself.

  “He thinks you sold him out.”

  “Why should he think that? Was that your cute idea?”

  “He heard it from Green, the D.A.”

  “It’s not true. I didn’t know anything about it until this morning.”

  “Then it looks like you’re being squeezed from two sides. The D.A.’s pressing and Domingo’s taking off.”

  “Yeah. He was going to leave me bare, the cocksucker. Half that stuff should be mine, and I need it. I got a lot of heavy payments to make.”

  “Well, you seem to be in a position to get your share,” I said.

  “Yeah. But I don’t understand why you tipped me.”

  “Simple. I need help. The cops want to talk to me, but I don’t want to talk to them. I figured if I did you a favor, you might do one for me.”

  He considered that and smiled in an unpleasant way. “Hunter, I think I just might do you a big favor,” he said in a way that made me think he had a very permanent favor in mind.

  Just then Domingo walked in. If he was surprised to see Ratchitt pointing a gun at him, he didn’t show it. He nodded his head slightly in greeting.

  “Nice of you to stop by,” Domingo said.

  “It would have been nicer to be invited. It looks like you’re going away,”

  “It seemed like the wise thing to do at this point.”

  “And it must have looked even better to get away with the whole bundle?”

  “You would have gotten your share.”

  “Naturally.” Ratchitt laughed in an ugly way,

  “But since you’re here, you can take your share now.”

  “I will. I think I’ll take your share as well. What do you say. to that?”

  “There’s not much I can say except that it would be a serious error on your part.”

  “Well, we all make mistakes. You made your last one. Good-bye, Domingo.”

  The room was filled with the sound of the gun exploding. The bullet hit Domingo in the middle of his large belly. The entry hole was small, but the exit wound was about the size of a basketball. Most of Domingo’s internal organs were propelled out of that hole, splattering obscenely on the wall behind him. The fat man fell to the floor, a thick, red puddle immediately forming around him.

  Ratchitt looked at the mess without much interest. “My, my. Dum-dums. Don’t you know that’s illegal?”

  “So are lots of things. You going to bust me?”

  “No, Hunter, I’m going to kill you.”

  “That’ll be messy.”

  “For you, perhaps. Not for me. In fact, it will solve my troubles. You see, I happened to come in here just as you blasted Domingo. I ordered you to drop your gun. You took a shot at me, fortunately missing. I had no choice but to shoot you. I aimed to wound, but in the heat of battle, my aim was off and I killed you. That’s the way things go. I’ll leave a few bags of heroin around to show what the fight was about. I’D take the rest of the stuff and hide it. I should be a big hero. I got a killer and I broke up a dope ring. In a few months, I’ll retire from the force. Between the dope and the blackmail, my retirement should be most pleasant. Perhaps the South of France. What do you think?”

  While he had been talking I had worked my hand under the cushion in what I hoped looked like a nervous gesture. I got my hand on the stock and my finger on the trigger. I sure as hell hoped the safety was off.

  “The South of France is okay,” I said. “I guess this means you won’t do me a favor?”

  “I’m doing you a big favor, Hunter. I’m ending all your difficulties.... Now, I’m afraid I have a lot to do, and we won’t be able to talk any longer. I would enjoy using your own gun on you—it makes such a nice large hole—but I’m afraid I will have to use my own.”

  He transferred my gun to his other hand and reached inside his jacket to his shoulder holster. It was now or never, as they say. I threw myself off the couch, bringing up the gun and firing at the same time. I caught him right beside his nose and saw his face fall apart. He was dead before he dropped.

  That was that. And that was a little closer than I liked. The end result was just what I had planned. The way we got there was not quite as smooth as I had intended.

  I got up and looked the scene over. Just about perfect. Ratchitt had the right idea; I was only going to change the combination of the players.

  I wiped my prints off the gun I held and put it in Domingo’s hand. Ratchitt held my gun, which became his weapon when I took the gun from his holster. What we now had was one of those terrible tragedies—a shoot-out with each participant simultaneously killing the other. Mountain was an early casualty of the episode. It wouldn’t hold up to a lot of scrutiny, but I was counting on Green to make sure it was accepted at face value,

  I called Green. I told him the police department had a new hero. Thomas Ratchitt had single-handedly broken up a heroin ring, killing the big boss in the process. Unfortunately, he, too, had met his death, felled in the line of duty. I gave him the address of Casa Domingo.

  “So you’ve left another two bodies for me to clean up? Is that what you’re saying, Hunter?”

  “Actually, there’s a third body, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “I know you’re not worrying. Maybe you should start.”

  “Look, Green, you couldn’t want anything better. A big porno-sex-dope operation has been smashed, a crooked cop has been taken care of, everything holds together, and no one’s going to ask embarrassing questions. You’re a hero. Enjoy it.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’ll leave your jurisdiction until this settles down. See you around.” He started to sputter protests, but I hung up.

  I wasn’t worried about him. He’d keep me out of it. He had to, or he knew I’d be talking. And if I talked he wouldn’t look very good, being an accessory to a whole string of felonies. Yeah, it was okay.

  I looked at the two suitcases. I thought about taking some of the heroin
but decided against it. Too complicated. Why fuck up a good thing?

  Now the suitcase with the blackmail material, that was a different story. You never knew when the assistance of influential friends might be helpful. I snapped the suitcase closed and was about to leave when I remembered something.

  I called Adrian Sweet.

  “This is Hunter. You remember our deal?”

  “Yes?” He sounded hopeful.

  “You’re off the hook—for good. The club is shut down and the guy blackmailing you is dead.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I do. You owe me six grand.”

  “It’ll be a pleasure to pay it. When do you want it?”

  “Right now. Bring it to the airport in two hours.”

  “The airport?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to Mexico. I was going to go with a friend, but she can’t make it. So I’m going with somebody else. I owe it to both of them.” I told him where to meet me and hung up.

  I called up Clarissa Acker and told her to get to the airport. That was that.

  I picked up the suitcase and started out. I looked back at the room. Yeah, it would play. It would play just fine.

  I noticed several of the snakes had found their way out of the broken cage and were headed toward the open back door. Black mambas loose in Beverly Hills. That should liven things up a bit. I thought about calling somebody to let them know. I grinned.

  Fuck it. I had a plane to catch.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.