Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set

by Bob Moats

  Penny was up and getting ready to go out to her show. I asked who was on today. She said, Marilyn Monroe. I paused and looked at her, not really wanting to ask but I did. She laughed and said Marilyn was part of a show that featured female impersonators who starred as celebrities, like Reba, Dolly, Cher, Joan Rivers, and more. I said there was a show in Vegas called La Cage, and it had that kind of entertainment. She said some of the performers coming were part of that show before it closed. I said that was interesting and too bad I couldn’t come to see the show, but I had to go hook Ralph into a confession. She wished me luck and headed out the door.

  I got to Clinton Township precinct about 8:45 and was led to Trapper’s office. Lawson was already there. We were introduced by Trapper and shook hands. Lawson was a huge, good-looking black cop, reminding me of Ving Rhames. About as bald, too.

  “Trapper tells me you think you can get Flagg to confess to murdering the Dominatrix. You really confident that he’ll fall for it?” Lawson asked.

  “Well, the number of times I had contact with him, he was boastful and stupid. I think I can pull it off,” I replied.

  “He knows now that you were working for his wife to catch him fucking around. Think he’ll trust you?” he asked.

  “I’m sure I can work him. Like I said, he has a way of building himself up to be what he thinks he is, and, again, he’s dumb as a board.” I smiled.

  “Well, it can’t hurt to try. If we get him, all the better,” Lawson agreed.

  “Since the pool store he works at is within Clinton Township borders, I’ll have an officer or two on hand to take him in custody till we can send him to you,” Trapper said to his friend.

  Lawson looked to me. “Do you really think he did it?”

  “After I talked to her, I believe that Elma didn’t do it, and Ralph has been under investigation for murdering his last two wives. I think it’s a good bet.”

  “OK, let’s take the fucker down.” Lawson smiled.

  Trapper had his people set me up with the wire, and we tested it just to be sure. Trapper said they’d sit on the side of the building where Ralph couldn’t see them, and told me to say “Buck’s a goof off” if I had any problems and needed help. I asked him, why that signal? He laughed and said, why not, Buck wasn’t there.

  “He wouldn’t like that, but I’ll use it.” I laughed.

  “If you remember, when I first brought you Ralph’s background check, I said I wanted to be in on the bust of Ralph. Well, make me proud,” Trapper said.

  I went to my car and headed over with the rest following. The store was only about four miles from the station, so it didn’t take long to get there. I arrived at the store. The cops came in from the K-Mart parking lot next door and drove up to the side of the place. Trapper waved to me, and I asked if they could hear me. He waved again. I was ready to go.

  I took a big breath and organized my plan in my head, then I went in.

  As I went through the door, I didn’t see anyone, but then Ralph came out from the back room. He gave me a big salesman smile as he came up to me, then stopped when he realized who I was.

  “What the hell you want?” he said.

  “Ralph, hey, don’t be mad at me. I was just doing a job. I came by to say I’m sorry. After I got to know you, I have a new respect for you.”

  He looked at me suspiciously, but had a curious expression, too.

  I continued, “I heard what happened at the club in Pontiac. Must have been frightening for you.”

  “Hell, no, I wasn’t frightened. Nothing frightens me,” he huffed.

  “Well, watching that girl die in front of you, knowing it could be you, wasn’t that scary?”

  “I was in control of the situation. I wasn’t going to die,” he replied.

  I got in close to him and said quietly, like I was confiding in him, “You know, Ralph, I know what death looks like. I’ve shot a couple people in my life,” I said as I pulled back my jacket to show him my gun. His eyes went wide, fixed on the weapon.

  “Can I see it?” he asked excitedly.

  “Oh, no, Ralph, I never let anyone touch my gun. It’s my baby. Haven’t you ever had a good weapon that was your friend?”

  He circled around me looking like he had something to say but was reluctant to say it.

  I went on quietly to him, as if I was sharing a secret, “I’ve looked into a man’s eyes as I pulled the trigger once, twice, and watched the bullets impact in his chest. I watched the stun of death take over in those eyes, and it was such a rush. I imagine Elma must have had a taste of it as she plunged that knife into that girl’s heart. Such a rush to be in that control over another human, eh, Ralph?”

  “Yeah,” he was breathing hard. “It is.”

  “You must have been real mad that night when Elma took control and stabbed that girl. Must have been real hard to watch it happen, Elma sticking it to her. But you wouldn’t know that thrill of killing, the taste of blood. You’re not that kind of guy, Ralph.”

  “I could be,” he defended. “I could take a life, if I wanted to.”

  “Hey, Ralph, you’re such a nice person. I’m sorry, but I just can’t see you being a guy who could do that.”

  “I could!” he defended again. Then he caught himself.

  “It takes balls to take a life, Ralph. Elma took that woman’s life. You didn’t.”

  He was getting wild eyed now. He was rubbing his face with his hands as if he was trying to remove the thoughts going through his head.

  I pushed, “Elma had all the fun that morning, taking out her rage on that girl, plunging the knife again and again. And you just stood and just watched it happen, helpless to do anything.”

  “I wasn’t helpless! I was in control! Elma wasn’t in control. She just stood there and screamed in that puny pitiful way she has. I was in control! I know what it’s like to take a life, I do. I’ve done it!”

  “Nah, Ralph, you couldn’t do something like that.” I pushed more.

  “Oh, yeah, I could and did. Elma didn’t kill that girl, I did. I was so pissed at Elma, and I had to take my rage out on someone! I went to the club, and when that girl started her bondage shit, I just got so mad at people telling me what to do and that I was such a nobody. She pushed and pushed. I couldn’t take it. I got so mad, and I brought my little friend out, my wonderful knife, and I stuck her good with it. I felt the thrill of the life coming out of her. I was in control, I was! Then Elma had to stick her nose in, but I had an inspiration. Blame it on her. I could get everything if she was put away. I had the control!”

  “Wow, Ralph, you got the balls. You actually killed that girl at the bondage club? Did you do in your first two wives, too?”

  “You bet I did. They were just as bad as Elma with their pitiful little ways of making me feel like a loser, but I showed them all. I killed them, too. It took me a while to get them set up, but I killed them. I’m in control!” He was shaking with rage now.

  I could see Lawson, Trapper and the two uniforms coming around the front of the building. I walked around Ralph, drawing his attention away from them.

  “I’m the one with the balls!” he growled.

  “Well, you’d better protect them where you’re going to be shortly.” I grinned.

  He heard the front door open and glanced over. Seeing the police, he got a panic in his eyes, then turned to run. I stuck my foot out in front of him, and he went down. The two uniformed cops pounced on him, bringing him up and slapping cuffs on him as Trapper read him his rights. His eyes were just about popping out of their sockets as they dragged him out.

  Lawson came to me, giving me a high five, and said, “Well done, my man. You were right, he is dumb as a board. I’m going to love beating him with the rubber hose.” He laughed and went out.

  Trapper smiled and said to me, “He’s not kidding.”

  *

  Chapter Eighteen

  On my way to Elma’s house, I got on my phone and called Dave Weston. He came on. “Dave,
Jim Richards here. I need to know what places did Noreen get her referrals from for her clients? Can you make out a list for me so I have a place to start tracking down suspects?” He said he would have a list for me, and I said I’d stop by around noon. We hung up, and I pulled into Elma’s drive. Buck opened the door after I knocked and looked at me hopefully. We went into the living room where Elma was lying on the couch looking miserable.

  I handed her my bill and said, “You owe me big time, Elma. I got you off the murder charge. I tricked Ralph into confessing. Your lawyer should be contacting you about it and getting your bail back. Ralph still has to go to trial, and you’ll need to testify, but he did confess, so it should be cut and dried.”

  Elma jumped up and gave me a big hug, thanking me. She took my bill, went to a desk, and wrote out a check for me. Buck asked how it happened, so I filled him in.

  “Ralph is in jail in Clinton Township, but they’ll be transferring him to Pontiac in a day or so. I would suggest you contact Mark Benson’s office about starting divorce proceedings while he’s incarcerated. Might be easier that way,” I told her.

  Buck looked at Elma and said, “Well, you won’t be needing me now, I only worked a day, and I didn’t do much good at keeping an eye on you.”

  Elma smiled, got her purse, gave Buck five one hundred dollar bills, and said he did fine, that she was just a pain in the ass. He bent down to her five-foot-two height and kissed her on the forehead, saying she was a fine person to protect. I told her that it would be good if she kept us informed about any developments with Ralph, in case of changes. She said she would and followed us to the door. Buck went to his vehicle, and I got into my car after agreeing to meet back at my office.

  We drove off, and I hoped Elma would be all right now.

  I got to my office and found a gorgeous brunette sitting on a chair in my lobby. I asked if I could help her, and she smiled and said she was waiting for her friend who was up in the travel agency. I swore to myself and went into my office, shortly followed by Buck who had to stop and talk to the beauty. He came in with a big grin and plopped his huge frame in the client chair, saying he thought that fox in the hall liked him. I just laughed and we sat talking about the events of the day.

  It was then about noon, and I told Buck that I had to go get a list from Weston. I asked if he wanted to go. He declined, saying he hadn’t been home in a day and a half and wanted to go freshen up. I said to stop back whenever, but to call first. He got up and went out. Passing the fox, he smiled, then went to his car. I called Weston, and he said that he had the list ready and would be at his house on Wallace.

  I went out, locking my office. The fox was, sadly, gone. I headed over to Weston’s house and drove up to find Weston sitting on the steps to his porch. He got up and came over to me holding out a folded paper. I took it and opened it to find a list of about six new age stores with contact names. A couple of them sounded like hard-core bondage supply stores. I would want those first.

  “Are these the places Noreen frequented?” I asked.

  “Yep, those are the ones that gave her referrals for her adjustments. I never spent much time in these places, maybe once or twice with her, but I knew she was getting help from them,” he said quietly.

  “Did you give this list to anyone else or tell anyone about these places?” I asked.

  “Nope, only to you,” he replied. I thought I would at least have a jump over Lincoln with these. Although, since I believed Lincoln had something to do with the murder, he wouldn’t care. I needed to get some names to narrow it down to Lincoln or someone higher up.

  “I have a question. You mentioned you had children. Where are they?” I asked.

  “My parents came and took them to their home for now. They live in Port Huron. It’s hard on the kids. I’m going up to see them this week. I think it would be better for them to stay up there till this is all over,” he said without expression.

  I thought, being fifty miles away would isolate them from the crime and attention here, but Weston still had to deal with telling his children that Mom was not coming home anymore. That has to be something no father should have to bear.

  I gave him the keys to the new lock on the storage unit and told him the number. The unit was cleaned out of any evidence so he could use it if he wanted. It was paid to the end of the year. He said he might go sleep in it and laughed sadly. I said I would be in touch and left him standing on his front lawn, looking miserable. The guy’s world was crumbling. At least he still had his kids.

  I drove over to Twelve Mile Road, then to Gratiot Ave. and down towards Eight Mile Road where the first store was located. A place called the Purple Pit, it was a head shop and new age store, and it was the closest to me at the moment. I had to drive around the block a number of times before I spotted the store. Duh, I should have seen it painted all purple and sporting the huge peace sign, made popular in the sixties by the head culture. I navigated the drive on the side, a narrow twisty path that led to a small parking lot in the back. I guess they didn’t expect a lot of business. I got out of my car and walked around to the front, passing some guy spread out on the empty lot next to the store. At first, I thought he might have been dead, but he opened his eyes and asked if I had a buck for food. I could see his eyes, drug addled. Food was not on his mind. I said I was sorry but I was broke, blame the economy. He lay back and passed out again.

  I came around the front of the store and went in. It took me back to my days in the sixties as a newbie hippy, smelling the incense and adjusting my eyes to the black lights making the posters glow in that odd blue light. I remember hanging out at the teen dance club, the Crow’s Nest East in St. Clair Shores, watching great bands like the MC5 and Amboy Dukes featuring Ted Nugent. I sat with Bob Seger one night after his band the “Bob Seger System” rocked out the house. We talked about nothing in particular, but I was thrilled. The Strawberry Alarmclock and…well, I could go on but I was jumped on by an oddly attractive young woman as I stood entranced by the sights.

  “Hey, man, can I help you?” she asked in a squeaky voice that I loved to hear, a child-like but giggly adult tremor that just made my ears perk up. She was attractive in an odd sense, not beautiful, but innocent, with a young, soft face that just needed to be kissed. I resisted. I looked closer and realized she wasn’t that young, maybe in her forties. I was intrigued. She had metal piercings adorning her lips, nose and eyebrows. I wasn’t fond of piercings, but she seemed to make them work. She wore black leather that covered her body, and she wore the spiked bracelets and collar that completed the outfit.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Lorelei. Is she in?” I asked going by the list names of contacts.

  “Wow, I’m Lorelei. Are you looking for an adjustment?” she asked, all bubbly.

  “Beg your pardon? What kind of adjustment do you offer?” I asked.

  “Massage or bondage,” she offered. “What are you into?”

  “Neither,” I answered. She looked disappointed. “I’m interested in any information about Noreen Black.”

  She recoiled at the statement. “Why are you asking about her?” She squinted her eyes as she spoke.

  “I’m sorry, I’m an investigator and I’m trying to track down her killer.” I took out my I.D. and showed it to her. She took my I.D. case and badge and walked away. I followed. She stopped and looked at me and then at my picture and back to me. She gave me my case back and asked what did I want to know.

  “Did you supply her with names of clients she may have helped in her business?” I inquired.

  She squinted again and said, “Names of people that would curl your hair. Follow me.” I did.

  *

  Chapter Nineteen

  She took me to a small room off to the side, through some beaded curtains that were popular in the sixties. She turned and said in a low voice, “What’s your interest?” I told her I was hired by Dave Weston to find out who killed Noreen. She smiled and said, “Noreen came to us here, and we supplied her
clients that were looking for, as Noreen put it, attitude adjustments. I loved that term. They didn’t want to say they wanted to be tied down and whipped, made to be submissive, made to beg for their mommies, but that’s what they wanted,” she rattled out. “They were strange folks who didn’t want to be recognized, but I recognized a few of them. Important people in the community, political people who I’m sure don’t want their constituents to know they are into kinky stuff.” She giggled.

  “Like who?” I asked. She started to open her mouth to speak when the front door bell tinkled. She closed her mouth and walked out of the room. I stood back, looked out through the beads, and saw someone I didn’t want to see, Detective Ben Lincoln. Now what the fuck was he doing here? I watched him as he briefly chatted up Lorelei, then I saw him move his hand back to where his gun was. I didn’t want to shoot him, although the idea was something I liked, but not today. Lorelei was busy chatting as he put his hand on his weapon. I burst out from the back room.