Good to the Last Kiss

by Ronald Tierney

  ‘I don’t have a gun.’

  ‘Oh yes you do.’ He pulled a gun from the pocket of the coat.

  ‘It’s not mine.’

  David smiled. ‘Of course it is. You ordered it. From Iowa. Came to you in Iowa.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s the part you don’t know about. I had a gun sent to you – to a Post Office Box in Iowa – J. Bateman. I came there and picked it up.’

  ‘You were in Iowa.’

  ‘Oh yeah, Julia.’

  ‘You were stalking me?’

  ‘Doesn’t seem all that serious compared to what’s going to happen, does it? You know, you were going to kill yourself. Commit suicide in the cemetery. That fucking dog. Scared the shit out of me. Something weird going on there. So I was going to give it up. Just in case, though, I shipped the gun back to me here. Then you came back to San Francisco. I thought: What if you remember? What if Teddy, or Ted as you call him, remembers my using his cologne that day. It’s fixed now. I’ve talked with Gratelli. He wanted to know the possibility of indicting Teddy with what little evidence you have. He believes Thaddeus is the murderer. He wants him. He came to me for help. This is going to be so easy.’

  ‘David, you know this is deranged. Even you can understand how you’re acting. Why don’t we work on getting you well?’

  ‘Oh Christ, Julia. You can do better than that. You kept me hanging for years. With you dead and with Teddy dead, I win. I win in so many ways.’

  ‘David?’

  ‘Be quiet.’ He spoke softly, almost gently.

  ‘You wouldn’t let me go. Friendship, you kept saying. Right. You said that. You could handle it. We could be friends. Aside from Paul, I was the only close friend you had. I couldn’t abandon you.’

  ‘You know, Earl – the guy you killed – you know I probably was closer to him than anyone. Isn’t that crazy?’

  ‘It is. It is crazy,’ Julia said. She was resigned.

  ‘Yeah, well. I read his file. I read the police reports. His own parents wouldn’t bail him out of jail. He had no friends. He lived in a little cave. Alone. You have no idea what world he could create for himself.’

  ‘That wasn’t your life, David. How could you compare yourself to him?’

  ‘We’re all just people. Some of us were just all by ourselves. I kept thinking . . .’ He stopped and was quiet. ‘You’d be surprised what worlds we can create for ourselves.’

  ‘You sent him to his death,’ Julia said.

  ‘I gave him a fighting chance. I thought he’d do it. I would have put money on him.’

  ‘You got him killed.’

  ‘Yeah, I did that. After all, he wasn’t innocent. I’ve done far worse.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Court. Every day. The rich kids get off. Guilty or not. The poor ones, they do time. Guilty or not. And even if the system lets them slide out – and they do, they really do – they slide right back in a week or two later. They’re dead men. They just don’t know they’re dead yet. Most of them. Ground up one way by their families or by the system. I sent one kid in, you know. Tried him as an adult. Raped, slaughtered. We were pretty sure he was dealin’ drugs. Pretty sure, Julia. Enough to convict him. Didn’t take much, of course. Who was going to defend him? We got him killed.’

  ‘And you? Do you think you’ll get off?’

  ‘You’ve got a point, Julia.’ He smiled. ‘All these perfect plans. Every one of them got fucked up. They were good. Everybody thinks Teddy is so smart. Shit, he could never have come up with all of this. C’mon, let’s get out. I don’t want to be in the car when Teddy gets here.’

  He left the car running, the lights on. Twenty feet on to the soggy sand, the wet, chilled air and the light was faint, dispersed. Just enough light for them to see each other. He had a knife in one hand, her forearm in the other.

  ‘Limbo,’ David said, looking around.

  ‘David, maybe we can do something if you stop now. You’ve not killed anyone.’

  ‘Yeah, is that right?’

  ‘I’m not talking about what you’ve done as a prosecutor. You can’t be held to that.’

  ‘You’re right about that. All perfectly legal.’ In the silence, the waves seemed stronger. The air was wet and smelled of fish. ‘You’re so calm Julia. Around me, you’re so calm. Teddy makes you nervous, doesn’t he? He excites you.’

  ‘David, listen before you take a step you cannot take back . . .’

  ‘Your friend Sammie is dead. I killed her tonight. There’s no going back. They’ll think Thaddeus did it.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m surprisingly tidy. I’ve gotten better. I even left something of Teddy’s there.’

  ‘What?’ Julia’s mind was still on Sammie.

  ‘She’s dead.’

  She tried to pull away. David pulled her back, the blade now at her throat, pulling in.

  ‘Well, finally. I’ve upset you haven’t I?’

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel that frightened again. The horror of that first night at the cabin. The horror of the second. Now, again. But fear gave way to numbness. Numbness gave way to an incredible, bottomless sadness. For herself. For her friend. For everyone. Even David Seidman, mad man.

  She could see only a shadowed face. She barely recognized it. He was a stranger after all.

  In between the black ocean out there lapping out the time of her existence and Ted’s and the predators of the fog blind city in the other direction, she was right here, right now. Third time’s a charm. A mad man determined to snuff out her life.

  ‘It’s sinking in, isn’t it?’ He took out a pair of handcuffs, slipped one cold, hard bracelet quickly and deftly around her wrist, then his. ‘Don’t want you slipping away.’

  ‘David . . .’

  ‘I want Teddy to see me kill you. Do you understand?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Passion. You are dead to me. Have been for a while. But Teddy . . .’ he said, pushing a handkerchief into her mouth.

  They could have been standing at the end of the earth, at the end of time. Only cold grayness surrounded them.

  ‘Waiting for Godot,’ he said laughing. ‘But unlike Godot, my god will come.’

  Julia had no idea how much time had gone by. She had hoped someone would happen upon the beach. Not tonight. No sounds. Everything was lost and still and silent. Not even traffic on Highway One. She tried to find something to sense. Salt. She sensed salt; briny, fishy and now a hushing sound of the breakers somewhere out there. She wasn’t even sure of the direction.

  David Seidman was calm, patient. He seemed oblivious to the wait, to the cold.

  At some point, the vague, formless light appeared. A car door slammed.

  ‘David!’

  ‘Over here, Teddy!’ David put the point of the blade at her neck, under the chin. She felt the small hole as the blade went in, could feel the warm blood on her cool neck. She wasn’t going to die yet. She thought maybe she could jerk David’s arm. Jerk it at the right time to throw him off, give Ted a chance. But to move was to die. As long as she was alive, there was a chance for both of them.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Follow my voice.’

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘You’ll understand.’

  ‘Too weird, David.’

  ‘You’ll understand, perhaps even appreciate it in a queer way.’

  ‘David?’

  ‘You’re getting closer. Keep walking.’ David moved behind Julia, brought the blade up to her neck with one hand, pushed the gun forward – in the direction of the voice. Footsteps in the damp sand made no sound.

  An overcoat. A long, gray overcoat. A face. A damp face. Dark hair. Maldeaux.

  ‘David? What is this?’

  ‘Don’t move, Teddy. Don’t even raise an eyebrow.’ There was a pause. Maldeaux said nothing. He didn’t move. ‘Very good. Very good, Teddy. Now, let me tell you a story. A short story. Very short. I am going to kill Julia, then you. Investigators will believe you killed her
and then yourself . . . or if that gets too messy . . . that she got off a round before she died. You had come to finish the job. All done. About the happy ever after I don’t know. Just “the end,” you see?’

  Seidman lifted the gun slightly, as if to make sure he was aiming correctly and the gun was moving down again, ready to settle in.

  Julia felt the blade at her neck burrow in ever so slightly.

  A flash of light, a flat loud crack.

  For a moment, the three figures were frozen. Two in shock. One in death. David’s knife fell to the sand. His body slumped down. The only sound was the crush of clothing as David Seidman crumpled into the sand. Another blast of light and sound. David’s gun, aimed out at the ocean, fired.

  ‘I just didn’t want to take a chance,’ Gratelli said. He dropped down on one knee, his free hand steadying his body on the beach. ‘My legs are like rubber.’ He leaned over David Seidman, felt the neck for a pulse.

  He acted like he didn’t expect to find one.

  ‘My God,’ Julia said.

  ‘I almost lost you twice in the fog out here,’ Gratelli said to Maldeaux.

  Julia looked puzzled.

  ‘He’s been following me for weeks,’ Maldeaux said to her. ‘Like you, he was sure it was me.’

  Paul and a handsome blond fellow sat outside Cafe Claude’s. The sun was out. The breeze was mild and held only a slight hint of a chill. They sipped coffee out of cups large enough to support a family of goldfish.

  Gratelli had lunch at Brandy Ho’s, a Chinese restaurant on the border between Chinatown and North Beach. He didn’t know if he liked his new partner. That would take a while. But at least the new guy appreciated good food.

  ‘Thank you for meeting me,’ Maldeaux said to Julia. ‘I felt as if we had some unfinished business.’

  The maître d’ took them through the dining room to the back, where the fenced courtyard held back the breeze, but allowed the immense spray of sunlight to warm the crowd of late lunchers and illuminate the bright red bougainvillea. There was a low tumble of conversations and the tinkling of wine glasses. Delicate sounds of violins and flutes filled the lulls of the human babble.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked as the waiter set the menus before them and disappeared.

  ‘Doing OK,’ she said. She knew her voice was flat. She was having trouble letting any feeling out. Not humor, not sadness, not anger. Julia actually felt all right . . . to the extent that she felt anything at all.

  ‘You’re remarkable,’ he said.

  She had absolutely no idea what to say to that.

  Thaddeus paused for a moment. It was clear that he was giving something a lot of thought. Then he spoke. ‘Are you getting any help?’

  ‘Help?’ she asked.

  ‘With all this.’

  ‘Paul is with me. We’re getting the business going.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean.’

  ‘I know. It will all work out.’

  Thaddeus leaned over the table. ‘You were attacked three times. You were terrorized. You killed a man. You saw another one shot in the head. I can’t let you push all this aside like you sprained an ankle.’

  ‘I know. I appreciate your saying it. That being said, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What’s going on in your life?’

  Thaddeus looked down at the table, then out over the crowd. The waiter came.

  ‘White wine,’ Thaddeus said to Julia. ‘Something dry and light, you think?’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Julia said.

  ‘Pick out something,’ Thaddeus said to the waiter, then to Julia with an obviously false smile. ‘I like white wine before dark. Then red. How about you?’

  ‘I never thought of it that way before.’

  ‘The flowers are pretty, don’t you think.’

  ‘The flowers are pretty,’ she said, a thin grin on her face.

  ‘Really a nice day,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. Very nice.’

  ‘I like the way you’ve done your hair,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Did you hear anything about that new Monet exhibit?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. Where is it going to be?’

  ‘I don’t know. And don’t care,’ he said. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t let you not live anymore. I don’t want to be polite. I don’t want us to be acquaintances.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it sometime,’ Julia said. ‘I promise.’

  No need to talk. It was better not to. Words could betray her, make her vulnerable. She sensed her father inside her, the Bateman blood. So late to understand.

  The waiter came by. They ordered. Both Julia and Thaddeus were quiet when he left. It wasn’t awkward. Was this the end of it? Was this all it was ever meant to be? Meeting a bizarre intersection in each other’s lives? Sharing such profound and frightening truths?

  One day at a time. That’s all it ever is, anyway. Life goes on.

  A breeze swept across the tables. Awnings and umbrellas fluttered.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Also by Ronald Tierney

  Good to the Last Kiss

  Copyright

  Dedication

  With Appreciation

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty