That Old Devil Sin

by W E DeVore

  “Jesus, Q. This isn’t some conspiracy to frame up Pete,” Niko reproached.

  Q bit her tongue. “Niko, I can’t deal with your shit now. If you’re home, you can wait with me for Ernst, if it means so much to you. But you don’t need to be there. I’m hanging up now.”

  She pressed the ‘end call’ button before Niko could argue. Q took a deep inhale and called Ben. When his voice mail picked up again, she clenched her hands in frustration. “Alright, alright… I get it. You’re pissed at me. Pick up the fucking phone, so I can fucking apologize already.” Her voice broke and she pleaded, “Ben, please, I need you. I found something bad. You have no idea how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I never should have started this. I’m scared and I need you. Please, you can be mad at me later. Just don’t be mad right now. I’m on my way home now. Please, baby…”

  Her phone beeped and went silent. Q held it out just in time to see it power off. She lifted her head to the ceiling and yelled, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Arlene walked back into the living room with the orange drive. “What is it, love?”

  “My phone’s dead and Ben still won’t answer his.” Q closed her eyes. “This really isn’t my day.”

  “You want to charge it before you go?” Arlene asked gently as she handed Q the thumb drive.

  “No. Thank you. I’ll charge it at home and then call up Ernst.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Arlene said firmly, sitting down on the sofa and picking up one of her dogs.

  “No. I don’t want you involved unless it’s absolutely necessary. These people could be dangerous, Arlene. I don’t think I can trust anyone but family with this. The Multers have cops on the take. They must... It just doesn’t seem right that they never even looked at them as suspects.”

  “Baby love, without some pretty solid evidence, like what you have in your hand, you know and I know that no one on the NOPD could even look cross-eyed at Senator Gus Multer.”

  “I suppose you’re right. That’s what Niko said, too. I’m just…” Q looked at Arlene and choked up. “…I’m fucking terrified, Arlene.”

  Q resolutely stood up to leave, dislodging the two dogs on her lap. “I started this thing, guess I better go finish it.”

  “Be careful, bébé.” Arlene hugged her for several long minutes. “Go put those animals where they belong.”

  She smiled wanly at her before walking out into the darkening afternoon. By the time she made her way to Elysian Fields to find a cab, the late Monday afternoon sky was looking more like late Monday night. A large storm front had moved in, blocking out the sun. Q raced toward Frenchmen Street, desperately looking for a taxi. The first drops of rain had just started to fall, when she ducked under the balcony of a corner bookshop, and finally spotted an empty cab.

  She stared anxiously out of the window, turning over the thumb drive in her hand the entire ride home. When the driver pulled up in front of her apartment house, a wall of relief hit her. Ben sat on her porch, both knees nervously bouncing up and down, holding his cell phone in both hands. Q quickly paid the cab driver and shoved the thumb drive back into her pocket. She raced up the walkway and hurled herself into Ben’s waiting arms.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been in a dead panic for almost an hour.” Ben held her to him.

  They quickly walked up onto the porch as the rain started in earnest. “My phone died back at Arlene’s.”

  Ben picked up a discarded black bag before following her into the house. “I was at the Cove when I got your message. When you didn’t answer, I panicked. I even brought the damn gun we keep in the office.”

  They walked into the foyer.

  “You brought a gun?!” she asked, horrified, her voice echoing up the empty staircase.

  “You said you were in trouble,” he replied defensively.

  Q nodded. “I really am. I found something really bad, Ben.”

  She started to explain when she realized how unusually still the house was. She instantly wondered where everyone was. She spotted a note taped to the baluster with her and Niko’s name on it. She grabbed it. Written in John’s spidery cursive was:

  “Took everyone out for drinks and dinner at Maxine’s to celebrate Mortgage Payoff Day!!! Get your asses over as soon as you read this…especially you, Q.”

  She smiled, wondering if Niko had already joined them. She showed the note to Ben and began to tell him everything, starting with her conversation with Urian after their fight. They entered her apartment and she immediately put her phone on the charger next to her bed while she told him about Marianne Multer.

  Ben sat down in disbelief at the small kitchen table, his long legs dwarfing the small chair. “Marianne Multer is a lesbian. Danny’s going to freak.”

  The door slammed across the hall and Niko burst into Q’s apartment. A look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw Ben. “Sorry, babe, didn’t know you had company.”

  Q said, “It’s ok, Niko. I was just about to tell Ben about the video I found.”

  She pulled out the orange drive and put it back into her front pocket. Niko sat on the piano bench and Q sat cross-legged in the chair across from Ben. After she told them what she saw, Ben leaned toward her and took her hands in his.

  “Oh, my god, Clementine, are you alright?”

  She shook her head and quickly brushed away the tear that formed in her eye. Ben turned to Niko. “Hey, Niko, you mind giving us a second?”

  Niko stood up and shrugged. “Don’t worry, I know a third wheel when I see one.”

  Ben was already pulling Q to him and onto his lap as Niko closed the door behind him as he left. She curled herself into his arms and breathed him in.

  “Please say you forgive me,” she whispered.

  He kissed the side of her head. “I shouldn’t have told you to leave.”

  She looked up at him. “I deserved it. I should have stayed. I should have always stayed.”

  He lowered his head. “I should have come last night. I was just… I don’t know how to make you trust me…”

  She covered his mouth with hers and kissed him for several long seconds. “It doesn’t matter now. We can talk it through later. Please, just let me call Ernst and get this over with, so we can put this all behind us. I need to get this filth away from me.”

  Ben nodded quietly and gently released her. She stood up and crossed the room to her bed. He followed her to the center of the room, his hands in his pockets, uneasily pacing side to side. Q walked into the alcove and sat down on the bed, before picking up her phone. She was waiting patiently for it to boot, when she heard a dull thud followed by a loud clank.

  “Ben? Are you alright?” she called out.

  When he didn’t respond, she quickly walked out of the alcove, discarding her phone on the nightstand, leaving it to continue to charge. Ben lay on his side in the middle of the room. Her microphone stand lay next to him, the weighted base bloody.

  Q screamed his name and ran to him, falling to her knees beside his unconscious body to cradle his head in her lap. She looked around the room for his attacker and found that they were alone. As she tried to wake him, she pulled her hands away in horror when she realized they were covered in blood. The warm damp penetrated her jeans and Ben’s long, blond hair was slowly turning sticky and red.

  Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away as she tried to locate the source of Ben’s injury.

  “Ben, wake up, baby. Ben,” she cried. “Come on, baby, wake up. We have to get out of here.”

  She helplessly tried to get him to respond to her pleas, desperately trying to pull him to his feet. The door opened and she grabbed the microphone stand, holding it defensively over Ben’s body. When Niko entered, Q sighed with relief.

  “Niko, lock the door. Someone’s here. They attacked Ben. We need to get him to the hospital. I have to call 911.”

  Niko locked the door behind him and lo
oked around in distress. “Someone’s here? Who?”

  Q jumped up and grabbed the small, black bag Ben had left on the piano. “I don’t know, Niko, but we’re in trouble.”

  She unzipped the bag and pulled out Ben’s gun. Seeing her bloody hands sent a wave of panic through her and she caught herself on the piano.

  Niko gingerly took the gun from her shaking hands and said, “Woh, there, Annie Oakley. You’d better let me take that.”

  Q nodded and caught her breath. “You stay here and watch Ben, I'm going to call 911.”

  She moved towards the alcove and froze when she heard the safety click off behind her. She turned to find Niko leveling the gun at her. “I don’t think that’s necessary, babe. Nobody here but us chickens. Sorry about Ben, but y’all were making me feel like a third wheel. You of all people should know how much I hate that.”

  “Niko, this isn’t funny. Put the gun down.” A panic attack began to swirl behind her left eye and she struggled to control her breathing.

  He was smiling. “The Multers are fucking mad at you, kiddo.”

  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

  “I don’t understand. How do you know anything about the Multers?” Her vision reeled as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

  “In a minute, babe. One thing at a time. First, Ben here is going to shoot himself, overcome with grief. Right after he beats you to death, just like he did to that fiancé of his. He’s got such a bad habit of doing that. You did, bless your heart, fight back hard... hitting him over the head like you did, but in the end, you were overcome."

  No no no no no no no no no

  Niko continued. “You know. Ben showing up was a pretty unpleasant surprise, seeing as how now I have to kill you both and I’m only getting paid for you. At least he brought his own gun, this will make things just a little easier. I was feeling pretty bad about having to burn this place to the ground, since John just paid it off and all. Besides, arson is such a pain in the ass. You know you shouldn’t carry a weapon unless you’re prepared to use it…Of course, I hit him over the head before he knew I was in the room, so we’ll never know how prepared he was.” Niko leaned casually against the door. “Don’t take it personal, Q, it’s just a job. And in my line of work, you don’t have friends – just people you can use now and people you can use later. So, come on now, be a good girl and stand up so we can get this over with.”

  Q glanced at the door behind Niko. Realizing there was no immediate escape, her mind churned through a series of possible options as she slowly stood up, carefully keeping the distance between them. “Your line of work? You wait tables, Niko.”

  “Not too bright there, Nancy Drew. Waiting tables is my cover, baby doll, not my career. You think I could afford black diamonds for my ears serving appetizers at weddings? I kill people for a living. A hit man. An assassin. A hired gun. A dolofonos. And if that stupid little hussy of Pete’s had been able to understand Greek a little better… you and me? We might not be here.” Niko did a slow-motion grapevine hop for effect. “The word is ‘dolofonos’ not ‘dollar furnace’, ignorant white trash bitch. And it means assassin, not fag."

  “You’re an assassin,” she said flatly, the sentence feeling completely alien in her mouth. And then she finally understood, “The blonde at The Athenian. It was Ronnie.”

  “Junkie bitch paid waaaaay too much attention to her surroundings for her own good.” Niko sounded annoyed. “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize your own best friend’s girlfriend sitting there all cozied up next to Urian Galanos. Tsk, tsk, Q.”

  Q had been so focused on putting up a strong front for Urian, that she had barely looked at his companion that night. She’d only seen a very intoxicated, non-descript, drug addict. “Oh god.”

  Niko tisked again. “And you call yourself a friend.”

  Urian’s words from the day before echoed in her head…you've got terrible taste in friends, you should be more careful.

  She suddenly realized he hadn’t been talking about Pete.

  “Niko, I found you a place to live when your apartment burned down. I covered for you with John when you were late for rent.”

  Just keep him talking just keep him talking.

  “And I really did appreciate that, Q. Seriously, thank you. Man, I did hate to lose that apartment, but that lawyer on the first floor pissed someone off enough to hire me. Messy job, fire was the only way to clean it up. Getting to be friends with his boss’s daughter really expedited matters. He had quite a crush on you, you know?” Niko walked over the to the kitchen. “I’m going to have a glass of wine, would you like a glass of wine?”

  Q took her opportunity and raced out the door. Niko groaned loudly behind her like a petulant child. “Q, why are you making this difficult?”

  She didn’t look back.

  Just keep running.

  Taking the stairs two and three at a time, she half ran, half fell down the three flights of stairs to the first floor. She was reaching for the front door when she heard Niko’s footsteps on the stairs behind her. The key was missing from the deadbolt and the door was locked. She felt her pockets and realized her house keys were lying on the bed upstairs in her apartment.

  Q looked around and bolted through the plastic walls of John’s final construction project. Stumbling in the half-light of the bare first floor, she found her way to the beginnings of his kitchen. The back door was sealed with a large piece of plywood. She frantically searched the room for another way out. Finding no other option, she hunted for some place to hide. The cupboards were still unfinished and she found one large enough to crawl into, taking her chances, hoping that Niko would think she'd doubled back. Biting her fist so she wouldn’t scream, she heard Niko’s footsteps echoing on the raw wood floor in the future breakfast nook.

  “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, Q. Couldn’t let Pete take the fall for his little girlie’s untimely demise. Let him go to prison for a couple of years, get clean, get rid of that skinny fat boy alcoholic pudge, get rid of those ugly, fucking cornrows,” Niko said, clearly aggravated by Pete’s unfortunate choice of hairstyle. “You just had to go snoopin’ around, getting your lady detective on. Not for nothing, kiddo, Miss Marple, you ain’t.”

  Niko’s footsteps were slow and measured and coming closer. Q tried to ignore the tears that were streaming down her face. “Can you imagine that white trash junkie bitch had the fucking nerve to shake down a United States Senator and his wife all because they like to have a little harmless fun with teenage prostitutes. I mean if there’s grass on the field, play ball, right? I can’t blame them for being upset, really. You know how hard it would be to get re-elected if your constituents found out that you like fucking cheerleaders up the ass and your wife is a raging dyke who throws pussy orgies? I mean that would be a stretch, even in Louisiana.”

  His footsteps stopped outside the cupboard. He must have bent down because his voice was now right next to her ear. Q closed her eyes and willed herself not to scream. “Tell you what, Q, destiny is one crazy bitch. The former favorite fourteen-year-old fuck toy of this staunchly conservative up and coming politician, and his wife, tries to get herself a little pocket change, and a little revenge, and her junkie boyfriend’s dumb enough to lie to the cops, blow town, and get it pinned on him. And then you! Little Miss Smarty Pants, puts it all together and tells little old me all about it, so I can warn Ms. Marianne. She and the Senator were so very grateful, that they hired me to get rid of you, too. They were awfully pleased with my work on Lundi gras. But not so pleased with you right now.”

  The cupboard door flew open and Q felt the barrel of a gun at her temple. “I wish I could say this wouldn’t hurt, Q. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to beat you half to death before I can finally kill you.”

  Q screamed and struggled, as Niko wrapped his forearm around her throat. The panic attack hit her almost instantly and she struggled to maintain any sense or rational thought against the chaotic roarin
g in her ears while Niko dragged her back upstairs.

  “Tell you what, baby doll, this is the damnedest job I’ve ever had. I mean they didn’t even fix the lock on the storage room door after my dry run,” he said, slamming her face into the wall on the second landing.

  She tried to hold onto consciousness. Her ears were ringing and she could feel blood running down the side of her face.

  “I went to all that trouble setting up Pete, making sure y’all got booked for the gig, and he didn’t even play. Just ran sound. Y’all just made things so easy and accommodating. I really do appreciate that.”

  He wrapped his forearm around Q’s throat and dragged her the rest of the way up to the third floor. She grasped his arm in a futile attempt to get more oxygen, her legs moved helplessly beneath her. Niko pushed her away at the top of the stairs and kicked her in the back. She staggered forward, trying to maintain her balance, and finally fell at her doorstep.

  Niko calmly walked down the hallway and opened her door. “After you, beautiful.”

  When she didn’t move, he picked her up by the collar of her t-shirt and shoved her across the room. She fell helplessly against the window seat. He stood her up and punched her hard in her stomach, before slapping her with the back of his hand, and sending her falling into the bar. Bottles and glasses shattered around her and she fell to the floor gasping for air, desperately trying to blink the stars out of her vision.

  “You know, baby doll, you and I are a lot alike. We both like helping people solve their little problems. That’s why I do what I do. I just want you to know that. I’m not one of those fruity serial killers with mama issues, you know? Hell, I fucking love my mama. Call her every Sunday, like clockwork.” Niko crossed to the kitchen and picked up the police file that Ernst had given her from the table. He flipped through it and whistled. “Man, this girl pissed somebody off. Tall, blond, and gorgeous sure does have a temper.”