GAG by Sandra Nikolai

The four elderly women occupied two sofas and an armchair in the cramped sitting room of Edna’s clapboard cottage. Edna, her bony arms crossed, sat alone on the faded lime futon as she spewed the latest gossip to the other three widowed members of the Granny Adventures Group, or GAG.

 

Opposite her, Sophie and Mattie shared a shabby olive divan that boasted more stitches than Frankenstein. While Sophie knitted a pair of booties for her expectant daughter, her plump head nodding as she listened to Edna’s chitchat, Mattie stole peeks over the rim of her bifocals at the musty 50s décor that pervaded the room. And Beverly, her petite frame adrift in the lumpy, overstuffed armchair flanking the sofas, kept her eyes fixed on the coffee table in their midst.

 

“Wait till you hear this. It’ll just make your stomachs churn!” Edna’s raised eyebrow announced the launch of yet another verbal attack on some unsuspecting citizen of Miracle Harbor.

 

Good Lord! Mattie thought. Not more tittle-tattle from that blabbermouth. She felt her jaw clench and tried to relax. Could Edna’s next tale be any worse than her prattle at the last GAG meeting, when she gossiped about how the Minister’s wife splurged church funds on lottery tickets, and how Trudy Stack’s overweight daughter lost her summer job at McDonald’s for gorging on leftover fries rather than discarding them?

 

Mattie’s blue eyes twinkled as she recalled a more enjoyable GAG meeting where Sophie had related the funniest story about her summers as a teen aboard her father’s fishing vessel. And previous kudos had gone to Beverley for her tale of a wild shopping expedition with her two-year-old granddaughter.

 

Cheery conversations had permeated GAG meetings since Mattie set up the group a decade ago. Membership had held steady at thirteen since then and included many long-time friends who had lived all their lives in this charming New England coastal community. The “baker’s dozen,” the grandmothers had dubbed themselves, the emphasis less on their numbers than on the tasty treats each offered when taking turns hosting a meeting.

 

But then Edna joined GAG. All the same, Mattie knew she had to play fair. Other busybodies like Edna had moved to Miracle Harbor and weaseled their way into the group before. When these tattlers hadn’t changed their meddlesome habits after a warning and three meetings, she had cast them out. This was only Edna’s second meeting, although the fact that not many members had shown up this evening did cause Mattie some concern.

 

“It was early one evening,” Edna’s raspy voice broke Mattie’s reverie. “A breeze had eased the summer heat somewhat, and I had finally finished unpacking the boxes those sloppy movers had dropped off weeks ago, so I went for my first stroll along the shore. Lucky for me, the beach was deserted.”

 

“Edna, seeing as you’re new in town, I have to warn you it’s not wise to go walking on the beach—” Sophie began.

 

“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much,” Edna interrupted. “Big city life offers far more dangers than any of you small-town folks could possibly imagine. Besides, my real estate agent told me Miracle Harbor hasn’t reported as much as one assault in the last eight years. Why else do you think I moved here?” Her expression stiffened, causing her lips to narrow.

 

“We did have a couple of deaths by drowning,” Sophie said.

 

“Everyone knows drowning accidents can happen wherever there are large bodies of water,” Edna scoffed.

 

Sophie shrugged, went back to her knitting.

 

“As I was saying,” Edna continued, “I had walked along the shore for a few minutes, when I heard giggling. I stopped, turned around, glanced up and down the beach and out toward the water, but there was nobody in sight and nothing except—” She paused to make certain she had everyone’s attention. “That old overturned rowboat by the edge of the bushes.” She pushed back a few wisps of white hair from her pasty brow, then shook her head, as if the mere memory of the incident upset her.

 

Beverley leaned forward, peered through a fringe of gray hair that crossed her forehead. “Is that it?” she asked, seeming to address the cracked porcelain teapot.

 

“Of course not!” Edna scowled, causing Beverley to shrink back into her chair. “It so happened a teenage boy and girl were hiding under the rowboat and—” She blinked hard. “Well! You could just imagine what they were doing.”

 

Sophie’s knitting needles clicked at a steady pace. “I’d say they were checking out the oars,” she quipped, her lips curling upward above a double chin to meet rosy cheeks.

 

The others giggled, but not Edna. She sat bolt upright, causing the coils beneath her to emit a squeaky noise. “I fail to see the humor in finding two teenagers engaged in—”

 

“How did you know they were teens?” Mattie adjusted her bifocals and eyed Edna across four sets of mismatched cups and saucers, the cracked teapot, and a plate holding four ginger cookies that had remained untouched so far.

 

“Because I pounded on the rowboat until they came out.” Edna held her head up high and folded her arms.

 

Beverley wriggled toward the edge of the chair until her running shoes touched the threadbare pea green rug. “Were they … naked?” She instantly turned away from Edna, not from embarrassment as one might assume from such a gesture, but rather to better capture the response through her “good” left ear.

 

“Let me put it this way,” Edna said. “She was wearing the scantiest two-piece bathing suit I’ve ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. The bottom part was scarcely there and—”

 

“It’s called a thong, Edna,” Sophie cut in. “Many young women with far better shapes than ours wear them today.” She raised her knitting needles to study the progress of two pink wool booties, the flicker in her eyes visible only to Mattie beside her.

 

Edna raised her pointy chin in defiance and shifted her gaze to the topmost folds of the moss green chintz curtains. “I’ve always discouraged my two daughters from following the fashion trends. It’s a waste of good money. In fact, I made all their clothes.” She glanced at Mattie’s trendy blue cotton top and matching casual pants, then looked down at her own clothes. “I created this simple outfit from a pattern decades ago. As you can see, it’s still presentable.” She fingered the pointed collar tabs and worn cuffs of her white nylon blouse, its sheen long gone from too many washings, then smoothed out the pleats of her gray polyester a-line skirt.

 

Mattie reached for her cup of tea, making certain to avoid the nicks around its edge as she raised it to her lips. She hid a smile as she imagined Edna’s married daughters on the west coast digging out their ageless wardrobe from the back of their closets for visits to “Mommy Dearest.” Then she took a sip of tea and almost choked. The brew was weak—horribly weak—as if Edna had used the same teabag for all four cups.

 

Sophie picked up the conversation. “Did you recognize the teens on the beach?”

 

“Of course,” Edna arched a penciled eyebrow. “It was that trashy Amber Gains. What else would you expect, coming from a crude family like that?”

 

There were gasps all around. Everyone knew Mr. Gains ran off years ago, leaving his distraught wife to raise five young children all by herself. Amber, the eldest, was an A student in high school and worked weekends at a local variety store to help out at home.

 

“Now Edna, it’s unkind to say nasty things about Amber and her family just because they’re less fortunate,” Mattie said, the creases along her forehead deepening. “Please remember: GAG has no place for members with malicious tongues.”

 

“My story is almost finished.” Edna blinked in annoyance, then sped ahead. “So there they were, wrapped around each other like a couple of—” She stuck out her chin and joined her hands. “Well! A good Christian woman doesn’t talk about such things.”

 

“You’ve got two daughters, Edna. Looks as if you did a lot more than talk.” Sophie’s infectious laughter, and the way her ample belly bobbed up and down under her pink Nike tee shirt, culminated in an explosion of laughter from Mattie and Beverley.

 

“If I may continue ….” Edna’s icy stare burrowed into Sophie. “The young boy’s shorts hung so low on his hips that the waistband of his underwear was in plain view. Disgusting!”

 

Beverley strained forward. “What’s that you say? He had back pain?”

 

“Love pains, more like it,” Sophie said in a loud voice, to which Beverley nodded.

 

Edna pursed her lips. “I may be new to this town, and I know you think I should mind my own business, but I’ve lived long enough to see the world deteriorate right up to my doorstep. Why, just the other night, I was watching the evening news and saw a bunch of young people on vacation…”

 

Mattie picked up one of Edna’s home-baked ginger cookies. She snapped off a small piece, then popped it into her mouth. The taste was bitter. She took a few gulps of the diluted tea to wash it down. Then, when Edna wasn’t looking, she crushed the rest of the cookie in the palm of her hand and slid the crumbs into the back of the sofa.

 

“Oh, come on, Edna,” Sophie was saying. “I’m sure Amber and her boyfriend were just doing what millions of other teens have done since the beginning of time—cuddling and smooching,” she laughed, triggering another attempt to take the edge off a topic that Edna refused to let go.

 

“Sophie’s right,” Mattie said. Her eyes held Edna’s. “You need to lighten up a bit.”

 

“Yes, lighten up,” Beverley echoed, glancing at Edna before returning her gaze to the teapot.

 

Edna glared at them. “The next thing you women will tell me is that I shouldn’t have gone for a walk on the beach.” She zoomed in on Sophie. “And for your information, that hussy was with Kyle—your sixteen-year-old grandson!”

 

Sophie paled. Her hands froze in mid-air between a purl and a plain stitch.

 

The room went silent.

 

***

 

The following Monday evening was Mattie’s turn to host the GAG meeting. Sophie, Beverley, and Edna had called to say they would be there, but the other members had stated outright they would not go to any more meetings as long as Edna remained in the group.

 

Mattie was disappointed. She had looked forward to hosting all the members at her exclusive home overlooking the sea. From the terrace, she could almost touch the tips of the forceful waves as they surged to twenty, sometimes thirty, feet tall at high tide. And tonight, the scene had promised to be even more spectacular than ever with a full moon in clear view. The ladies would have loved it. And Edna had gone and ruined it all.

 

Shortly before seven, Sophie and Beverley sauntered up the sandstone path of Mattie’s beachfront home. Sophie was out of breath, her face damp with perspiration. “Is Edna here yet?” she whispered to Mattie as she stepped inside, Beverley on her heels.

 

“Not yet. What’s the matter?” Mattie led them into the living room where a light breeze was blowing in off the sea. She set aside a copy of Home and Garden and sat opposite the women on one of two matching peach sofas hugging the walnut coffee table.

 

“You’ll never guess what happened.” Sophie took in a gulp of air, reached for a hankie in the side pocket of her striped overalls. “Edna called my son Justin … told him dreadful things about Kyle and Amber. Now Kyle is grounded for the rest of the summer.” She dabbed the hankie over her face.

 

“That’s right,” Beverley nodded. “Grounded.”

 

“But why?” Mattie’s brow furrowed.

 

“Justin thinks his son shouldn’t get serious about girls right now,” Sophie replied, “seeing as Kyle plans to go to university to study law in a couple of years.”

 

“Where he can meet the ‘right’ girl,” Mattie said.

 

“I suppose so,” Sophie shrugged, tucked away her hankie. “Regardless, Edna sure stirred up a hornet’s nest.”

 

“And she’s driving the other members away too.” Mattie mentioned the no-shows, then grew pensive. “I don’t think we should wait until the third meeting this time.”

 

Sophie and Beverley agreed.

 

After Edna arrived, Mattie set the meeting in motion. “Ladies, I’m glad you could make it tonight. Does anyone have an adventurous or humorous story to tell?”

 

Edna grunted. “Only the four of us again? That’s it?” She turned to Mattie beside her. “I guess your meetings aren’t as popular as you think.”

 

“It’s summer. People have other plans,” Mattie said.

 

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Edna’s chin darted upwards. “When I was at the grocer’s this morning, I overheard several women in the next aisle say they wouldn’t be going to any more GAG meetings. Furthermore, they said other members had said so as well.”

 

“Really?” Mattie feigned surprise.

 

“I didn’t get to hear the end of their conversation, but I would think the reason they don’t attend is obvious.” Edna glanced at the women. “It’s because I expose the decadent goings-on in this town, of course.” She wagged a finger at them. “And don’t think I’m going to stop telling the truth.” Before anyone could react, she started on the new hair salon. “I couldn’t believe those ridiculous fees for a shampoo and set at Pam’s Unisex Hair Salon. Mind you, I didn’t bother going in to make an appointment. I do my own hair. But that’s besides the point. After I peered through the shop window and saw Pam bending over the sink, all but throwing herself on top of Roy Stearns, that fifty-something car dealer who recently divorced—”

 

Mattie bounded out of her seat. “Excuse me. I’m going to prepare the coffee.”

 

“Make that tea for me, please,” Edna said. “Coffee is bad for you. Everyone knows that.”

 

“Tea it is,” Mattie replied. Her back to Edna, she gave the other women a knowing wink and headed for the kitchen.

 

Mattie reached for a slender vial at the back of the pantry shelf. From the refrigerator, she took out a bowl of sweetened whipped cream she had prepared earlier. She filled a half cup with whipped cream, tapped the contents of the vial into it, and stirred. Then she scooped the mixture onto Edna’s serving of pecan pie.

 

While the women enjoyed their beverages and dessert, Mattie kept a vigilant eye on Edna.

 

Soon Edna’s eyes grew sleepy. “Excuse me,” she yawned. “I guess all that unpacking has finally caught up with me.” Minutes later, she nodded off, her head slumped against the peach velour pillows lining the couch.

 

“Those sleeping pills always do the trick,” Mattie said.

 

***

 

Dense shrubbery bordering Mattie’s home offered ample protection from prying neighbors as the three grandmothers stood on the terrace and watched the swelling crest of the incoming tide.

 

“It’s peaking, I’d say,” Sophie shouted above the roar of the waters.

 

“Go ahead,” Mattie said, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

 

“This one’s much lighter than the last two,” Sophie chuckled, as she placed Edna’s limp body on the wood railing.

 

“Good thing. We’re not getting any younger,” Mattie said, lending a hand. She turned to Beverley. “If I recall, it’s your turn.”

 

Beverley approached and gave Edna a final push over the edge.

 

“Those city folks,” Mattie sighed. “They should know better than to go walking on the beach without heeding high tide.”

The End

The Final Escape by Herschel Cozine

Allen’s hands shook and perspiration beaded his forehead as the first twinges of deprivation gripped his body. Before long the pain and cramps would consume him, coming in waves that would drive him to the brink of insanity. He walked faster down the dark street, hunching his shoulders as he fought to control the trembling that was beginning to build.   He had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

There were no streetlights. Grotesque shadows from the dim city lights cast a despairing pall over the street.   But Allen wasn’t aware of the darkness or the gloom. His aching body pushed him desperately along the sidewalk. He turned the corner and looked down the street where a figure stood in the entrance to an alley midway down the block. Allen stumbled forward, walking as if he were wading through water, finally reaching the man.

“I need it. Now.”

“Sure, kid,” the man replied. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t have it.”

The man laughed hollowly. “No money, no stuff.”

“Trust me,” Allen whimpered. “I’ll get the money. I’m dying.   Can’t you see that?” His teeth chattered and, in spite of the hot August night, he shook violently.

The man laughed again. “I see a kid with a big habit and no dough. This ain’t charity, my friend. I run a cash business.”

“You gotta help me,” Allen said. “For Christ sake, help me.”

“Get lost,” the man growled. “You’re wasting my time, punk. I got paying customers waiting to see me.”

“Just one fix, man. I’ll have the money tomorrow.”

“Then you’ll get the stuff tomorrow,” the man said. He shoved Allen aside and started to walk away.

Desperation gave way to blind fury. Allen picked the larger man up by the shirt and hurled him against the wall. “I can’t wait. I need it now!”

The man’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent cry. He crumpled to the street and lay still. Allen stood over him, his wild eyes rolling back and forth as he waited for the man to move. After several minutes Allen kneeled down and felt the man’s chest.   He was dead!

Allen accepted the fact without feeling. Quickly he dragged the lifeless body into the alley and searched through the man’s pockets. With a satisfied exclamation he pulled out several small plastic bags.

Allen turned and ran down the street, adrenaline giving strength to his drug starved body. He tripped once, scraping his outstretched hand on the hard cement, righted himself and ran up a flight of stairs to a small shabby room. He kicked the door shut and fell on the bed. The cramps were stronger now and he was shaking uncontrollably as he groped under the pillow for the needle. He worked quickly, tearing at one of the bags with his teeth. The bag tore, spilling some of the precious powder on the floor. Allen cursed and poured the remainder into the spoon.   Perspiration fell from his forehead onto the bed as he dissolved the powder and filled the needle.

The soothing effect of the drug was immediate. He lay back and closed his eyes. As the warm soothing glow spread over his body, Allen thought of Jake, the man he had killed a few minutes ago. The realization of what he had done made him shake once again. He had never killed a man in his life. He was not a violent person; he hated killing of any kind.

It was an accident, he told himself, an unfortunate accident that never would have happened if Jake had been reasonable. Allen fell into a fitful sleep.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Detective Sergeant Calloway inspected the body disdainfully, then straightened up and lit a cigarette.

“Jake Mills,” he said. “Pimp, pusher, scum of the earth.” He turned to the white coated attendants standing beside him. “Take him away.”

“What do you think, Sergeant?” the balding patrolman asked.

Calloway took a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped his hands. His hard eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at the spot where Jake’s body was found. “I think he got what he deserved, Pete.”

“Any idea who did it?”

The sergeant shook his head. “Could have been any junkie in town. Or one of his girls, or another pusher. Crumbs like Jake Mills have an army of enemies.” He threw the cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. “I really don’t give a damn,” he added. “Whoever killed him saved us the trouble.”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “But that won’t wash at headquarters. They’re going to want some answers.”

Calloway shrugged his broad shoulders and sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He glanced absently down the alley, wrinkling his nose at the musty dank smell that hung in the summer air. “I’d say it was a junkie. There wasn’t any stuff on him, but his wallet was there with a wad of money in it. As far as I’m concerned they could put it down as ‘unsolved’ and go on to more important things like running these scumbags in while they’re still alive and stringing them up by their thumbs.”

“Are you going to put that in your report?”

Calloway smiled wistfully. “I don’t have to. They know how I feel.” His eyes met Pete’s and the patrolman looked away quickly.

Calloway made another brief inspection of the alley, shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled to his car. “Wrap it up here and get on with your beat. I’ll take care of headquarters.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Allen slept a shallow, restless sleep. When he woke the sun was shining through the grimy window over his bed.   His head ached as he sat up, and he quickly lay back down. He stared at the clock on the scarred dresser, squinting it into focus. It was almost noon. Allen rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin.   The events of last night were lost in a drug hazed blur. He dimly remembered meeting Jake and fighting with him. But he couldn’t remember coming back to his room. He felt in his pockets, pulled out some plastic bags and threw them on the bed. Eight of them. That wasn’t possible. He didn’t have any money, and couldn’t have bought that much stuff. He got up slowly, holding his head as he stumbled into the bathroom. He cupped his hands under the faucet and splashed water on his face, carefully avoiding the reflection in the crazed mirror above the sink.

It started to come back to him now; the fight, the fleeting look of horror on Jake’s face as he crashed against the wall. He had killed him!

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

“Calloway, what have you got for me on the Jake Mills murder?” Lt. Parks said.

“Not a damn thing, Lieutenant,” Calloway said.

“Why not?”

Calloway glared at the bulky red faced man and leaned over the desk, pressing his closed hands against the pockmarked wood. “I haven’t looked for anything.”

“Well, start looking,” Parks said.

Calloway straightened. “Woody, you know how I feel about pushers. I’m only interested in the ones who are still alive. They’re the dangerous ones.”

“Look, Cal,” Parks interrupted. “Nobody on the force likes them. But we have a job to do. And you’re the guy who is assigned to the Mills case.” He cast a meaningful glance at Calloway. “Now get busy.”

A tense silence followed, the two men standing across the desk facing each other in a wordless battle. Calloway was the first to look away. “There are no witnesses that I know of, no murder weapon, no fingerprints.”

Parks snorted. “Don’t play the dumb cop with me, Cal. You’ve been around too long for that. Somebody in this town knows who Mills was going to meet in that alley. Start asking questions. I don’t have to tell you how to run a murder investigation.”

Calloway shifted his feet and reddened. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled. He turned for the door.

“Cal,” Parks said, “I don’t want to appear unsympathetic. I know what you’re going through. But you’re a pro. Do your job.”

Calloway nodded. He slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Calloway’s investigation was a half-hearted one. As a professional he was usually thorough regardless of the distastefulness of the case. But this time he had no heart for the matter. He had lost his perspective, let his personal feelings dictate his effectiveness as a detective. Maybe it was time to retire. He had been a cop too long.

He sat on a bar stool in a sleazy tavern in the lower end of town where the dregs of society spent their time drinking throat burning booze and making contacts. He studied the customers with the practiced eye of his profession, separating the pimps from the junkies in his mind. He knew most of them by name; they had all been in and out of jail at one time or another.   They huddled around the tables in small groups, talking in monotones or staring into space.

Calloway pulled out his wallet, pushed a bill across the dirty bar and ordered a beer. He grimaced at the greenish swill that the bartender pushed back at him.

“Look, Frankie,” he said to the glassy-eyed little man hunched on the stool beside him. “I’m not here to bust anyone. I’m trying to get some answers about Jake Mills.”

“Yeah? Well, why pick on me?” Frankie’s looked around the room like a trapped animal. “All those guys knew him.” He brushed a shaky hand over his face and licked his lips. “Hell, man, I don’t know nothin’.   Why don’t you….”

Calloway sighed. “I’ll ask the questions.” He shoved a beer towards Frankie, who took it and drank eagerly. Calloway felt revulsion mixed with pity as he watched the little man drink.

“When did you last see Jake?”

Frankie put the glass down hard, his hands shaking. “I dunno,” he said.

“Who was he supposed to meet in the alley last Friday night?”

“I ain’t talkin’,” Frankie said.

Calloway leaned over and grabbed Frankie’s shirt, twisting it with his right hand as he half pulled the frightened little man from his stool.   “Listen, punk, don’t get smart with me.   Jake was killed by a junkie, we know that. That’s heavy stuff, pal, and I’m not in the mood for smart aleck remarks. I can run you in right now for possession–maybe murder.”

Frankie pulled Calloway’s hand free. “You ain’t pinnin’ nothing on me,” he said.

“Who, then, Frankie? Who was Mills meeting?”

Frankie blinked. “You don’t want to know, man. Leave it alone.”

Calloway sat back and studied the frightened man. Frankie licked his lips.

“Leave it alone, man,” he repeated.

Calloway turned back to the bar, put his arms on the counter, and looked at his frowning image in the mirror.

“Get out of here,” he said. “Get out of here before I run you in.”

Frankie uncoiled from the stool and ran out the door. Calloway watched him go, shaking his head sadly at the pathetic sight of the man. He scooped up his change, pocketed it, and picked his way through the bar to the street.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Allen hadn’t eaten in three days, since the night he had killed Jake. He hadn’t even left his room except to get a paper. It lay on the nightstand, open to the page describing the murder of Jake Mills.   Buried behind the want ads, the account was brief. There was no mention of suspects. But Allen knew it would only be a matter of time before the trail led to him. He was sorry that Sgt. Calloway had been assigned to the case. Not that Allen cared for himself anymore. It was too late for that. But to have it end this way–well, a real tragedy. If only there was another way.

Even if he was never caught, the thought of living with the knowledge that he had killed a man was more than Allen could stand. The enormity of his crime weighed on him until even the escape into drugs failed to block it out of his mind.

He pulled open the drawer and took out the plastic packets. There were four left. Allen shuffled them in his hands and stared blankly at the wall. There was only one thing left for him to do, the final escape from the hell he had created.

Throwing the packets on the bed, he took a pencil and paper and started to write.   The note would be short and to the point.

When he had finished, he opened the four packets and readied the needle.   Calmly, with no show of emotion, he plunged the needle into his arm.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

It was another hot humid day, the kind that wrung perspiration from Calloway with the slightest exertion. He was exhausted from the short walk to his office and sat down in his chair heavily, skipping his morning coffee. The backlog of work was piled high on his desk. He contemplated the disarray with a sigh of defeat.

“Cal?”

Calloway looked up into the steel gray eyes of Lt. Parks. The red face wore a troubled expression that warned Calloway that the chief had bad news. Parks motioned silently towards his office, stood back and waited for Calloway to enter. He closed the door softly.

“Trouble?” Calloway said.

Parks nodded. Calloway sat down and waited for the stern faced man to speak.

“It’s Allen.”

Calloway tensed.

“They found him this morning, about an hour ago.”

“Where? How?”   Calloway said.

“In his room. He OD’d.”

Calloway’s brain numbed and he stared out the window. The morning sun blinded him, but he shivered in spite of the heat.

“He killed himself, Cal. It was deliberate.”

Calloway sat for a long time, staring but not seeing. His stomach churned, and a wave of nausea gripped him.

“He left a note,” Parks said.

“For me?”

Parks shook his head. “It was addressed to me. But he said to tell you he’s sorry for all the suffering he caused you.”

“Is that all?”

Parks picked up a letter opener and twirled it in his hand, but said nothing.

“He was my son, Woody. I have a right to know.”

Parks dropped the letter opener on the desk and sat back in his chair.   “You’re a cop, Cal. A damned good one. You see the underside of life every day. A good cop never gets used to it. And when his own son is involved, the ugliness is much worse.”

“What are you saying, Woody?”

Parks shook his head. “Forget it.   It’s not important.” He toyed with a folder on his desk, sighed and handed it to Calloway.

“The Mills case. It’s a real puzzler. I can’t have you wasting your time on it.” He swiveled in his chair until his back was to Calloway. “We’re marking it ‘unsolved’, Cal.” He turned quickly, and the hurt in his eyes matched Calloway’s.

“Scum like Mills will never be missed in this world. You’ve said that many times.”

Calloway nodded. “’Unsolved’.” He smiled wistfully.   “Woody.   I…I know the score.”

Parks raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I got it from Frankie. Oh, not in so many words. It’s what he didn’t say that told me.” His shoulders sagged as he stared at his feet. The whir of an electric fan was the only sound to break the heavy silence of the room.

Parks shrugged. “Frankie’s a loser. You can’t believe anything…”

Calloway held up his hand. “Thanks, Woody. But frankly, I’m glad. It’s one of the last good things Allen did.” He allowed himself another smile. “Funny. It was his job to take the garbage out when he was a boy. I guess he couldn’t get out of the habit.”

His voice broke. Without looking back he stepped out of the office and closed the door.

The End

Film at 11 by Leon Altman

“The last words she left for me on the answering machine were ‘Daddy, there’s a film of me all over the Internet. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do,’” Mr. Marx said, running his forefinger over his dark mustache. He leaned against the cement wall, the wind blowing through his dark hair. His eyes were darker than his hair and his body had the build of a linebacker. “All she wanted to do was be a model. She had a friend that helped her, Jamie Hamilton.”

 

“And then she hung up,” I replied, nodding my head.

 

“Yes, Mr. Harmon. And I got a phone call about three hours later. She had jumped off the balcony of her apartment.”

 

“I’m sorry.”   I leaned against the black metal grating and noticed that several large branches were broken from a tree. “Now, if she jumped, then why did she jump towards the tree? She had a chance to avoid it, yet, she jumped into it.”

 

“What are you saying?” Mr Marx asked.

 

“I get the feeling that she had a little help.”

 

“You think that the people who put that film” – Mr. Marx clenched his teeth together – “could have done this.”

 

“It’s a good possibility. I think that I’ll speak with my friend, John Morgan. He’s in charge of homicide.”
“They said it was a suicide.”

 

“I’d like to find out.”

 

“Then you’ll take the case?”

 

“Let’s see what I can dig up.”

 

An hour later, I walked into John Morgan’s office, smiling.   He sat at his desk chewing his wad of gum, grinning at me.

 

“I take it you’re here for another police report.”

 

“Of course,” I said. I sat across from his desk in a metal chair.

 

“I really don’t know why I help you anymore.   Always causing trouble” – he leaned back in his chair and scratched his head through his red hair – “and the complaints are always going up. How many times do I have to tell you to stop beating up people.”

 

“I can’t help it. Trouble seems to find a way to find me.”

 

“Just like that freezer drawer that hit Billy Darby in the face.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re still angry about that.”

 

“Jack,” John said, shaking his head,” you can’t continue to beat people up.”

 

“He beat up his girlfriend and broke her nose. Then he killed his cousin.”

 

“All right,” he said, holding his hand up, “never mind. I’m afraid to ask what you’re up too this time.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you about Jacqueline Marx.”

 

John leaned back in his chair, pounded his gum and said, “The girl who committed suicide.”

 

“She jumped right into a tree. Why would she do that?”

 

“Witnesses heard her scream.”

 

“That doesn’t mean that she wasn’t thrown from her roof.”

 

John took a deep breath, shaking his head.

 

“What?”

 

“Even if you’re right” – he bit his lower lip – “it wouldn’t be enough to question him.”

 

“Who?”
“Her ex-boyfriend.”

 

I nodded my head and clasped my hands behind my neck. “Go on.”

 

“Guy’s name is George Moon; harassed her at her job.   Beat her up in the parking lot a few times.”

 

“She get an order of protection?”

 

“You know it doesn’t do a lot of good.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”
“Jack, I’m not sure that we can question him. This isn’t enough to open the case.”

“But I can.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“He was harassing her. Probably didn’t want her to be a model” – I took a deep breath – “or maybe he didn’t want her to be a success.”

 

“She told her father that there were pictures of her on the internet. It makes sense that she was depressed. And how did the pictures get there.”
“True. Her father thinks that the people who took the pictures shut her up.   You question anyone about that.”

 

“I heard there was a woman in her office who was a close friend. Name was Jamie Hamilton.”

 

I stood up and grinned. “I’ll check it out.”

 

“Try not to beat anyone up this time.”

 

“I promise to behave myself.”

 

“That’s what you said about Billy Darby.”

 

Half an hour later, I knocked on the door of George Moon’s apartment and heard footsteps on the other end. The door opened and he stood in the hallway. He was taller than me, about 6-4, with arms that seemed like a size 22 in his brown sweater. His hair was brown and parted to the left in a three quarter inch part. “Yeah.”

 

“You George Moon?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“My name’s Jack Harmon. I’m a private investigator. I’d like to talk to you.”

 

He narrowed his eyes and shifted his head to the left. “Is this about Jacqueline?”
“Yes.”

 

“Hey, she committed suicide. What the hell do you want from me? You’re gonna blame me for that too.”

 

“I just wanted to know where you were that night.”
“Why?”

 

“Just answer the question.”
“Maybe I’ll just shut the door instead.”

 

I shrugged my shoulders and leaned against the wall. “Fine with me. I’ll tell my friend, John Morgan, head of homicide that you didn’t cooperate with me and he can come down and question you.”
He bobbed his head and opened the door wider.   “Fine. Come in.”

 

I walked past him and stepped inside his studio apartment. It was L-shaped with a large bed, and a brown five dresser draw opposite it. A 25 inch Sony color TV stood on top of it and there was a small hole about the size of a quarter in the drawer.

 

“I saw the article in the paper. They had pictures of her apartment in the news. I saw that mirror. I remember how it was cracked the night we had a fight. She threw a book at me and I ducked. It hit the mirror.”

 

“Way I heard it,” I replied, turning towards him, “you beat her up a few times in the parking lot.”

 

“That’s not true. I loved her.”
“So, where were you?”

 

“I was working late.”

 

“What do you do?”

 

“I’m a health instructor in a gym.”

 

“So people can confirm that you were there?”

 

He took a deep breath and bobbed his head. “I locked up. Hey, they said she committed suicide.”

 

“She tell you about pictures of her on the Internet.”

 

“Heard she wanted to be a model. Told me that her friend was helping her.”

 

“Jamie Hamilton.”

 

“Yeah, that’s it. Hey, you never know what these modeling agencies will pull,” he said nervously.

 

I put my hands on my hips and licked my lips.   “I’ll check it out.”
“Yeah. Hey, don’t believe anything you hear about me beating her up.   It ain’t true.”

 

“You broke an order of protection.”

 

“She called me,” he shouted, “and said she wanted to get back together.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah.   Yeah.”

 

“Look Harmon, I don’t care if you don’t believe me.   I really cared about her.”
“Just find someone to corroborate your story.”

 

“Hey, I didn’t do anything. Like the police said, it was suicide. That’s it.”

 

Two hours later, I stepped inside Georgia’s Temp agency and asked to speak with Jamie Hamilton. She stepped out of the office and I have to say that she was hot. From the top down: long blond hair that flowed over her shoulders framing her blue eyes and a small aquiline nose; trim body that was covered by a black dress that fell below her knees; and black suede boots.

 

“You wanted to talk to me,” she asked, her husky voice filling the room.

 

“Yeah. Wanted to talk to you about Jacqueline Marx.”

 

She gazed at the ground and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I really miss her. Why do you want to see me?”

 

“She said that there were pictures of her on the Internet. You know anything about it?”

 

“No.”
“I heard that you helped her get a modeling job.”

 

“I did. We both went to the same place. Drago’s Modeling Agency. They disappeared and took our money.”

 

I nodded my head, taking a deep breath. “How did Jacqueline feel about it?”

 

“She was devastated. She said she was going to find them and get her money.”
“How much did she lose?”

 

“Same as me – $2,000. They stole a lot of money from us.”

 

“I wonder if she found them. You ever hear anything about them being into pornography.”

 

“No,” she replied nervously, “why would you say that?”

 

“Just wondering.”

 

“Are you saying that there were pictures” – she drew her lip between her teeth – “of her naked.”

 

“I haven’t seen them. Why do you say that? Do you know if she posed naked for them?”
“I don’t know, but if she did.”

 

“Look, let’s not worry about that now. You know who ran the studio.”

 

“Guy named Randy Travers. He’s long gone. The police looked into this and he disappeared.”

 

“All right. I’ll look into it. Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

I stepped into the office of The Mirror nearly half an hour later. My friend, Richie Feldman, a reporter for the paper, stood behind his desk, typing away on his computer. We were friends since the war in Iraq. I saved his life when a hand grenade went off and he took it in the thigh. He’s had a limp ever since.

 

“Richie.”

 

“Hey Jack,” Richie replied, sticking his hand out, “what brings you here?”

 

“Wanted to talk to you about Jacqueline Marx,” I said, shaking his hand.

 

“She committed suicide.”

 

“I’m not so sure,” I replied, sitting down in a wooden chair, “for a lot of reasons.”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Several large branches from a tree a few feet from her apartment were broken. Why would she have jumped into a tree instead of avoiding it?”

 

“People heard her scream.”

 

“Somebody could have thrown her from the balcony.”

 

“Okay, so, what do you want from me.”

 

“Well, I heard she lost a lot of money to Drago Studio’s.”

 

“So did a lot of women.” Richie took a deep breath and continued. “I was there at the studio and saw about 50 women who lost over $2,000 each. Some of them posed for pictures topless and they were afraid that the pictures would be put on the web or be sold to a porno magazine.   I interviewed a few of them for a story.   Randy Travers made a real killing on them. So many of them were crying. They really wanted to be models. They were really scared.”

 

“Maybe she found Randy Travers.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“You have any idea where he is.”

 

“Police couldn’t find him.”

 

“You know anyone that’s into pornography?”

 

He leaned back in his chair and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, there’s this guy. Bill Ford.   He’s a photographer. Got out of jail for taking pictures of underaged girls.   He was accused of raping one of them.   Sentenced for five years, got out in less than two on good behavior.”

 

“Maybe I should talk to him.”

 

“I went to interview him and he was pretty nasty.   Wanted to start a fight with me outside his office. I walked away from him.”

 

“Oh, really. Well, you know that I can’t let him get away with that.”

 

“Jack, he is bigger than you.”

 

“The bigger they come, the harder they fall.”

 

“Well, I’d like to see that.”

 

“Good, then you can get a story too. Let’s go.”

 

We stepped into Bill Ford’s office nearly two hours later.   He stood in front of his metal desk staring at his camera. He was about my height, 6-1, with brown hair that was slicked back and beneath that black eyes, and beneath that a small nose, and beneath that a beard that wrapped around his mouth.

 

“Can I help you,” he said, holding a camera.

 

“Yeah, I said, putting my hands on my hips, “my name’s Jack Harmon and I thought we’d pick up on that interview you had with my friend.”

 

He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. “You’re a real comedian,” he answered, putting the camera on his desk.

 

“You know Randy Travers?” I asked.

 

He walked closer, bobbing his head. “Get the hell out of here.”

 

“Not until you answer the question.”

 

He threw a right and I ducked. Then I threw a right to his stomach and he doubled over.

 

“Now, I’ll ask you again. “Do you know Randy Travers?”

 

He straightened up and glared at me, then threw another right. I grabbed his hand and twisted it, hearing him scream in pain. Then I threw a knee to his stomach and he dropped to the ground.

 

“Hey, Jack,” Richie said, “Look at what I found.”

 

I let go of his hand, walked over and saw pictures of three women topless.

 

Richie pointed at the pictures and said, “I interviewed these women. They lost over $2,000 from Drago’s studio. Remember how I told you that they said that they posed topless and were scared that the pictures would turn up on the web or in a porno magazine.”

 

I turned and walked back towards Bill and he glared at me. “You’re a dead man.” He tried to throw a right and I stepped back. Then I threw a front kick to his face and he fell back against his desk. He wiped blood from his nose and stood up slowly.

 

“I hope you’re a better photographer than a fighter.”

 

“You bastard.” He threw a right and I grabbed his hand, twisted it until he screamed.   “Did Randy put those pictures on the web or in a porno magazine?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Where is he?” I shouted.
“I just take pictures for him. He called me an hour ago. He wants me to meet him at Pier 75 tonight.”

 

I let go of his hand and stepped back. “You want to go to jail again?”

 

“No.”
“Okay. Here’s what you’re gonna do,” I said, “and you better listen to me because I’m only gonna say it once. You’re gonna call him back and tell him that you can’t meet him but you have a friend that’s just as good.”

 

“And who’s that?”

 

“Me.”

 

“I don’t need any trouble.”

 

“Wanna go to jail?”

 

“Fine.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

 

“Tell him my name is Chevy Chase.”

 

“Very funny,” Richie said.

 

“You’re a real clown,” Bill said.

 

“Just do it.”

 

“Yeah, Randy, it’s Bill. Look, I can’t make it tonight. But I have someone that’s really good.” He nodded his head. “Look, the cops were here asking me questions.   I gotta lay low for a while. Just trust me. He’s real good. His name is Chevy Chase.

Yeah, that’s his name.   Okay.” He hung up the phone and glared at me.
“You’re in.”

 

“If you call him after I go…”

 

“Hey,” I don’t want trouble with the cops.

 

“Fine.”

 

An hour later, I knocked on the door of Pier 75 and a man opened it up. He was shorter than me, about 5-11, stocky, with short blond hair. “You Chevy Chase?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, holding my camera, “and no jokes about the name.”

 

“What the hell is it with the name?” he said, holding the door open for me.

 

“My mom liked Fletch and The Invisible Man.”  

 

“Whatever,” he said, closing the door.   “Bill says you’re good and that’s good enough for me.”

 

“So, where’s Randy?”I asked, and gazed around the room.

 

“I’m Randy.”

 

“Oh.”

 

I heard voices beyond another door and three women were getting undressed.”

 

“I couldn’t find you in the phone book,” Randy said, shifting his feet.

 

“I used to work in LA. Hey, I read about you in the papers. You were running that Modeling agency. Drago’s.”

 

He grinned, showing his teeth. “Yeah. Made a big killing there.”

 

“Yeah, you sure did. You got a lot of women to pay you. How did you manage that?”

 

“You ask a lot of questions.”

 

“Just trying to make conversation.”

 

“What the hell is he doing here,” a voice shouted from behind me.

 

I turned and saw Jaime Hamilton standing in front of me.

 

“What’s with you?” Randy asked.

 

“He’s a private detective,” she screamed.

 

“Son of a bitch,” he yelled. He reached for his gun and I slammed a front kick to his face.   The gun fell to the ground and I heard the sound of a loud gunshot. I hit the floor and glass from a partition shattered everywhere.

 

“Time to die, Harmon,” a gravelly voice shouted.

 

I turned and recognized Rocky Torenzono’s bald head and pock marked face. He was a mobster for Vince Ruggerio, head of a crime syndicate. He aimed his rifle towards me and fired. I rolled behind a brown couch, seeing bullets flying above me. I grabbed my gun from my holster, got up and fired twice, catching him in the chest. He fired his rifle in the air and I watched him fall to the ground.

 

“You bastard,” Randy screamed, holding his bloody nose.

 

“Looks like you’re going to jail.” I turned and glared at Jamie. “As for you, I’m sure you’ll have fun in a female prison”

 

“Go to hell.”

 

“Least I didn’t lure women to phony modeling agencies and convince them to get their pictures taken topless. So I guess you did the same thing to Jacqueline or maybe you’re into porno movies and she changed her mind and told you to forget it but you said it was already on the Internet. She threatens to go to the cops so Rocky Torenzano pays her a visit and throws her off the balcony to make it look like a suicide.”

 

“What the hell is he talking about?” Randy asked.

 

“I don’t know,” she said to Randy.

 

“Yeah, right; tell it to the cops.” I grabbed my cell phone and dialed John Morgan’s number.”

 

“I’m telling you,” Jamie replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“How many cameras do you have here?”

 

“Four,” Randy said. One of them is in the dresser drawer.”

 

“What,” I said, narrowing my eyes.”

 

“One is in the dresser drawer.

 

I walked over to the dresser drawer, opened it, then stared at the camera. “Oh for Christ sakes.”

 

Two hours later, I sat on a bench in the parking lot, watched as a blue camaro came into the parking lot and stopped in a slot. The door opened and George Moon appeared. He gazed at me, stepped out of the car, and shut the door. “You again.”
“Yep, me again,” I said, standing up.

 

“I heard the report on the news. You busted up a pornography ring.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“So is that where Jacqueline was?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Sure you do.”

 

He took a deep breath and let it out.

 

“You’re a real slimy bastard.”

 

He bobbed his head and put his car keys in his pocket.

 

“You wanted Jacqueline back so you took pictures of her. You had a camera in your dresser drawer. I remember the hole.”

 

He drew his lips together and breathed through his nostrils.

 

“You threatened her and told her you put them on the Internet. You went over to her apartment and she let you in. She probably told you she was going to the police after she threw that book at you and hit the mirror instead. By the way, I have a friend at The Mirror. He told me that there weren’t any pictures of her apartment in the paper. You’re the only one that knew about the crack in the mirror because you were there.”

 

“You’re good, Harmon, real good. But what’s to stop me from going to my apartment and destroying the evidence before the cops get here.”

 

“Cops are on their way. They’re just getting a search warrant. You’ll have to get past me so you could go to your apartment.”

 

“Is that right?”

 

“Yeah. You know what’s interesting.”

 

“What.”

 

“We’re in a parking lot. Just like you and Jacqueline.”

 

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

 

“I doubt it.”

 

He threw a front kick and I stepped back. Then I threw a right to his nose and drove him back.   I spun to my left, catching him in the jaw with a round kick. He staggered back and wiped blood from his mouth.

 

“Don’t worry, George. We’ve only just begun.”

 

He screamed and ran towards me, throwing a right. I grabbed his hand, stepped to the left, and flipped him over my shoulder. He fell to the ground on his back.

 

“Kind of different this time around, isn’t it,” I said.

 

“You got a big mouth,” he said, getting to his feet, slowly, “and in the next minute, your mouth is going to be swollen.” I threw a right to his mouth, snapping his head to the right. Then I threw a back fist to the other side of his jaw, spraying blood in the air. Then I threw a front kick to his stomach and he doubled over.

 

“You rotten bastard.”

 

“I’m a rotten bastard? You beat up Jacqueline and put her in the hospital and take pornographic movies of her before you threw her off the balcony. And you call me a rotten bastard.”

 

He stood up and wiped blood from his mouth.

 

“This one’s for Jacqueline.” I threw a palm strike to his nose and he staggered back, screaming in pain. I watched blood pour out of his nose and smiled. Then I threw another right to his jaw, followed by a left to the other side of his jaw. His eyes glazed over and his knees buckled.

 

“Have a nice night in the hospital.” I slammed the palms of my hands against each of his ears at the same time, and he howled in pain. Then I stood back and watched. He fell to ground, unconscious.

 

I stood over George and formed a bullhorn with my hand.   Then I put my mouth inside it and said “This in just now. George Moon, a man who beat up his girlfriend in a parking lot gets his ass kicked in a parking lot by Jack Harmon. Film at 11.

The End

The Farraday Affair by David Jay Bernstein

Apparently satisfied at what I was offering, the man on the bench beside me slid the envelope into his jacket. “Ah, Watson. Good to see you again.”

 

I need to explain that the man who’d just said that is insane — or at the very least, he’s the beneficiary of a mild case of loony. His name is Lawrence Holmes and, like his fictional namesake, he’s a brilliant private investigator. Trust me, there’s no joke you can make about this situation that will upset him. Lord knows I’ve tried.

 

Me, I’m a detective with the Philadelphia Homicide Unit. And my real name is Caleb Jacobs, not Watson. I first met Holmes a few years back while I was working a case involving a matched set of corpses (don’t ask) that washed up from the Delaware River. An interested third party had hired Holmes, and with my badge and his unusual skills, we found it was to our mutual benefit to work together. Since then we’ve shared information on a number of occasions. And each time he calls me Watson.

 

Right now I’m violating every protocol I can think of by being here, trying to hire him. In the past he’s always come to me for help.

 

Holmes stood up, tapped out the burnt tobacco from his small clay pipe into the trashcan, and pocketed it in his hound’s-tooth jacket. “Come, Watson. It looks like it’s going to rain and we have a mystery to solve.”

 

I let him guide me out of Rittenhouse Square, a park in the shopping district of Philadelphia. I felt the stares from each mother pushing a stroller and each guy walking his dog as we made our way. In a lot of ways, I’m embarrassed to be seen with him, and not just because the guys back at the precinct razz me for being his Watson. It’s because. . . well, look at him. He has a chin-up, shoulders-back, pompous way of walking, and he behaves and talks like something out of Masterpiece Theater.

 

“So Watson,” Holmes said. “I’m glad to see that you and Mrs. Jacobs have reconciled.”

 

Oh no. . . here it comes. “We’re not here to investigate me.” But I knew he wouldn’t stop until he knew — that I knew — that he had me pegged.

 

“Your shirt isn’t wrinkled and the color of your tie has a feminine sensibility that you’ve lacked since you and Emma separated. And of course, there is the faint hint of Eau Du Soir. Her favorite perfume, I believe.”

 

I shot him my Yeah, I get it look and increased the pace. Mercifully, we made it to the bookshop he owns without anymore of his deductions. This place is one of the many businesses in the city that he has an interest in, but I’ve never seen him work at anything but “sleuthing,” as he would say. I know he’s rich, but it beats me where the money comes from, my point being that I’ve never heard of him collecting cash for his work, only gifts and favors. As a matter of fact, right now my season tickets to the Philadelphia Eagles home games — the precious contents of the envelope I’d given him — reside in his breast pocket. I loved those seats.

 

He held the door of his shop open and allowed me to pass. Inside, a woman in her sixties dropped the newspaper she was reading onto the Formica counter and curtsied slightly. “Welcome home, Sir.”

 

“Ah, Mrs. Hudson.” He nodded. “Look. . . Watson has returned to us.”

 

Her name is just as much Hudson as mine is Watson. I’ve never really figured out her purpose, but she always seems to be hovering nearby and she always plays right into Holmes’s delusions.

 

She nodded at me. “Hello, Detective. I haven’t seen you since Holmes consulted with the police on The Case of the Vanishing Corpse.”

 

He must be paying her six figures. There’s nothing he can sling that she won’t catch. Before I could reply, Holmes said, “We’ll be in my office, Mrs. Hudson. Please bring us some of your strongest coffee.”

 

The back room that he calls his office is modest sized, but in no way is it decked out on the cheap. The floor is covered with an ornate oriental rug and the walls are either covered in art or hidden by bookshelves that I’d bet a week’s pay are loaded with first editions. Of course, the smell of pipe tobacco permeates the room.

 

He removed his jacket and with great reverence draped it over a coat rack near the door. Then he sat down on the lounge chair beside the fireplace — yes, a real, working fireplace — and gestured at the folder I carried. Obediently, I handed it over, then dropped down on a leather couch across from him.

 

He fanned the pages and frowned. “Is this everything?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He snorted and started reading the material. “Interesting,” he said, more to himself than to me “The Janis Farraday killing.”

 

I said nothing, letting him concentrate on the materials.

 

He didn’t look up. “I take it your partner doesn’t know you’re here.”

 

“No reason to tell him.” He was referring to Jerry Reynolds. Jerry is a normal enough guy. He has anger issues concerning sports (a common enough trait in Philadelphia) and is a bit too open with his opinions on other matters. Other than all that, he’s an honest and steady partner.

 

Mrs. Hudson entered with a couple of cups of Starbucks. “I made it fresh, just the way you like it,” she said, winking at me. Like I said before, she plays into his delusions.

 

“Yes, yes. Thank you.” Holmes waved, shooing her away. “Please see to it that we are not disturbed.” He glanced at me, then returned to scanning the documents. “He doesn’t like me, you know.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Your partner.”

 

“Jerry doesn’t like most people. In your case, it’s just a little easier.”

 

“And where does Detective Reynolds think you are right now?”

 

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter; he’s on vacation. Now please concentrate on the job.”

 

He closed the folder and tossed it across the coffee table that lay between us. “I see nothing worth concentrating on. This information is stale. The murder happened nearly two months ago.” He cleared his throat. “The popular opinion in the tabloids back then — I occasionally skim them — was that Janis Farraday was killed by her husband, Daniel Farraday.”

 

“Like it said in the report, there was no evidence of his involvement. Besides, this murder doesn’t look like the act of an accountant.”

 

“It is my experience that accountants can be the most dangerous of all.” He held up one page of my report. “It says here that the office cleaning lady saw Ms. Farraday leaving work around 6:30 pm.” He held up another page. “Here it says that her husband claims she phoned him at 6:45 pm to say that she had a late appointment with a client. Have you had any luck finding the missing phone?”

 

I crossed my arms and shot him my most innocent look, a mistake given that Holmes is a master of body language. “Missing phone?”

 

“Come now, Watson! It’s elementary! It is highly unlikely that a partner at the law firm of Lucius, Brandon, and Felder would use a pay phone, yet I see no reference to a cell phone in the list of her possessions that were recovered at the crime scene.”

 

I shrugged. “As far as we can tell, it’s the only thing that was taken from her. When we questioned her husband, he confirmed that she obsessively carried it with her.”

 

Holmes leaned back in his chair, his fingertips pressed together. “Who pays the cell phone bill?”

 

“The law firm.”

 

He snapped his fingers and held out his hand.

 

I reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out a photocopy of the last phone bill and dropped it into his greedy hand. “I was just testing you. Wanted to see if you were worth such a high cost.”

 

“If you want my help, don’t toy with me.” He unfolded the paper and reviewed the list of outgoing and incoming phone numbers. “Are any of these unusual?”

 

“No. Her office manager recognized most of them as clients and her husband identified the rest, including the call she made to him on the night of her murder.”

 

“So the only clue about the phone is that it is missing?”

 

“Yeah, that’s about it. If you ask me, it smells of a cover-up, but I can’t reckon of what. We subpoenaed her client list and couldn’t find anyone with a grudge. And get this — none of them had an appointment with her on the evening of her death.”

 

Holmes leaned back in his chair. “And the only other facts here are these: she was found in an alley three miles from her work, and the estimated time of death is 7 pm, just 15 minutes after her call to Mr. Farraday. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine. Go home. Let me think on this matter. I’ll contact you when I have something.”

 

“I want to be involved in your investigation.”

 

“Yes, I suspected as much.” He reached for the Calabash pipe and tobacco bag lying on coffee table. Unlike the ubiquitous clay pipe that he traveled with, this one had a long, curved stem and a wide bowl. Using it was a clear sign that he was taking the matter seriously. “Meet me back here at 8 pm tonight.”

 

I left before he had a chance to strike a match. Emma hates the smell of tobacco on my clothes. I walked the half-mile to police HQ at Franklin Plaza to finish the paperwork that I should’ve had done last week. Jerry usually does the pencil pushing and key tapping; I’m the good looking man of action.

 

After I finished what needed to be done, I left for home to enjoy dinner with Emma and play time with my two year old daughter, Alison.

 

As commanded, I arrived back at the bookshop at eight, where I found Holmes waiting in a taxi. “Come, Watson,” he called from a rolled-down window. “The game is afoot.”

 

I stepped into the taxi. “Where are we going?”

 

“To visit LBF.”

 

“The law firm? Why? I’ve already searched the place and questioned her co-workers. It was all in my report.”

 

“You know my methods. I like to see everything first hand. I look for clues where most others look for evidence. There is a not-so-subtle difference.”

 

The taxi dropped us off in front a pretentious red brick building that mirrored all the other pretentious red brick buildings in the historic Philadelphia district. Holmes told our driver to wait down the block, as if the cabby were his personal chauffeur. Then it dawned on me: in Holmes’s crazy world, he probably was.

 

We crept around back, like criminals. At this time of night the place would be locked tight. What’s Holmes planning? Then I saw it. Sure enough, the back door was open. “Let me guess,” I whispered. “A friend just happened to leave it unlocked, right?”

 

Holmes flashed me a half-cocked smile. “You can speak up, Watson. There is no one here. As you must have deduced, sometimes I have to do things that people in your profession frown upon.”

 

“You mean like breaking the law? Yeah, my profession doesn’t usually go for that.”

 

“In that case, you are going to have to decide between law and justice. They are not always the same. While you are deciding, please show me the way to Ms. Farraday’s office.”

 

I sighed. I guess for tonight my catch-phrase is In for a misdemeanor, in for a felony. I led him to her third-floor office. I’m sure he wasn’t impressed, but this place was seriously upscale and modern — definitely not decorated in the Holmesian style.

 

As soon as Holmes stepped into her office, he began rifling through a file cabinet and after that, the bookshelf. “Ah, it is as I thought.” He looked up. “No one new has been assigned this office.”

 

He switched the computer on and waited. A prompt for a password appeared on the screen. With a flourish Holmes cracked his knuckles. “Now we’ll see if she still has an active user account.” He pulled a stick, a blue, thumb-sized flash drive, from his jacket and inserted it into one of the USB ports, then began running a password decryption program from the stick.

 

Great. . . now I’m helping him hack into a law firm’s computer system. I shook my head. For my own sanity, I needed to stop counting the number of laws I was breaking tonight.

 

“Bah! There’s nothing here. Not even a personal e-mail.” He reached down and began rummaging through her desk drawers, then ran his hand underneath each one. “Aha! He untaped a Motorola cell phone from beneath one of the drawers and held it up. “What do you think of this?”

 

My heart thudded in my chest. Jerry and I had gone through this office and — trust me on this — that phone hadn’t been there. A cop missing something taped under a drawer only happens in movies, if even then.

 

Holmes must have seen my shock. “Obviously, this was placed here after any police search.” He pulled out his clay pipe and slipped it, unlit, into his mouth, then studied the phone. “I believe your case has become a mystery worth my attention,” he said through clenched teeth. “Evidently, this is what the murderer must have been after. However –”

 

“However,” I said, collapsing onto an office chair. “The phone he did get off her was the wrong one. This is a second phone, the one he really wanted. But if that’s true, why is it here? And what did he want with it?”

 

“To answer your first question, it’s here for someone to find. As for why he wanted it, I don’t know — yet.”

 

The phone is evidence, and yet it would be better if. . . . no, I don’t want to think about that! I need to know what happened that night.

 

Holmes continued. “But it does imply the possibility of a third party.” He tried activating the phone, but the battery was drained. He flipped it over, popped out the battery, and set it on the table as he looked closely at the empty slot. “Interesting, yes very interesting.” He handed it to me and I held it up to the light. Scratched in the battery slot were the letters XO followed by the number 43.

 

“Do you know what this means?” He returned the pipe to his pocket.

 

I shook my head. I really didn’t know, but I probably should have. Holmes looked me over and frowned. Is he starting to figure out that I haven’t told him everything?

 

“There’s another place we need to go to tonight,” he said.

 

Our taxi pulled over on South Street near the Delaware River, a neighborhood where rebel youths consort with yuppie shoppers; biker bars and tattoo parlors mingled with expensive restaurants and chic clothing stores. If you can’t find something here, you aren’t going to find it anywhere in Philly.

 

Once again Holmes told the driver to wait. By this time I’d learned our cabby’s name was Philippe. After we got out of the taxi, Holmes led me to a seedy sex shop just off the main drag. At the counter, next to trashy lingerie and mood candles, stood a girl in a pink wig, popping bubble gum and reading, of all things, Better Homes and Gardens. She ignored Holmes, probably recognizing that he didn’t go for her type, and gave me a lurid look. “Need some help?”

 

Before I could make a typical witty Caleb response, Holmes cleared his throat for attention. “Is Margaret Liang available?”

 

She popped another bubble and looked at him. “She doesn’t come in on Tuesdays.”

 

Holmes laid the Motorola on the counter in front of her. “I have a bill to pay.”

 

She looked at the phone, then back at Holmes. Then, without a word, she disappeared behind a set of curtains. A minute later one of the most — hell, the most — stunning woman I’ve ever seen walked — floated, it seemed — to the counter. She had almond-shaped eyes and long, straight black hair and was wearing an emerald kimono. In summary, she was a knockout.

 

She batted her long eyelashes at Holmes and in a dulcet voice said, “Well, well, well, little fly. . .   what brings you to my web?”

 

Holmes held out the cell phone. “We need to talk about this.”

 

She took it and caressed it seductively while staring at him. “If you’re having problems with this, I suggest you try the Verizon store around the corner. Now, if you gentlemen are looking for something. . . shall we say, a bit more adult, then I can help.”

 

“Enough playing around,” Holmes said. “Show me the book.”

 

The phone vanished into the folds of her kimono. “Trust me, Holmes: there are some things you don’t want to know.”

 

She called him by his name! And unlike most of his acquaintances, she wasn’t subservient.

 

“Show me and I will consider us even,” Holmes said.

 

“We’ll never be even. But if you insist on pursuing this, follow me.” She led us to a narrow stairway, near the changing rooms. She pressed a manicured nail to my chest and nodded toward Holmes. “Only him.”

 

“It’s all right, Watson,” Holmes said. “I shall be quite safe.”

 

Margaret laughed. “So it’s Watson, is it? Holmes and Watson are on the case. Well, Watson. . . .” She nodded toward the girl behind the counter. “I’m sure Cindy can keep you occupied.”

 

I watched them as they made their way up the creaking staircase. Then I turned and looked at Cindy. She was cute, but she wasn’t in Margaret’s league.

 

She popped her gum again. “I like you. Are you doing anything early?”

 

“Early?”

 

“Early tomorrow morning. That’s when I get off.” She winked. “Work, that is.”

 

I don’t think any girl has ever used that line on me before. “I’m married.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“It does to me.” Even if she was my type, I wouldn’t do anything now that things between me and Emma were on the mend.

 

After what felt like forever, but was actually only twenty minutes later, Margaret and a pale Holmes returned. At the bottom of the stairs, Margaret turned to him, her voice quiet. “I won’t be able to protect you. . . not this time.”

 

Holmes nodded at me and I followed him out the door. Before we got into the waiting taxi, I asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

 

He slowly shook his head. “No. I found what I was not looking for.” He straightened, pulled back his shoulders and got into the taxi. He looked at the driver. “Philippe, it’s getting late. It’s time we went home.”

 

Holmes was unresponsive to further questioning during the ride back to his bookshop. However, he did agree on a time and place for us to meet the next day. After we dropped Holmes off, Philippe drove me to my car at police HQ.

 

The next morning, on time, I was where I was supposed to be — the park again — but Holmes was nowhere to be found. Something was up; the man was obsessed with being on time.

 

A hand clasped my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

 

I looked up and saw Mrs. Hudson’s scowling face, not a pleasant sight at this time of morning. Actually, not a pleasant sight anytime.

 

“Where’s Holmes?” I asked as she took the seat beside me on the park bench.

 

She ignored my question. “Mr. Holmes mentioned that you’ve met Margaret. What did you think of her?”

 

Aside from lust and mystery, and that Margaret had barely acknowledged me, I didn’t have much to go on, so I told her everything except the lust part.

 

“Well, I’d stay away from that one, if I were you.”

 

“Gee Mom, thanks for the advice, but I’m all grown up now.”

 

She huffed and raised her nose at me. “Trust me, if you were my son, you would have learned some manners. Margaret can’t be trusted; she’s a manipulator, that one is.”

 

“I’ll take that under advisement. Now tell me, where is your lord and master?”

 

She huffed again. “He arrives at the Market East train station. . . .” She looked down at her wristwatch. “In 15 minutes. Meet him on track A1. I suggest you walk very fast. Good day, Mr. Watson.” She got up and strolled away.

 

It was 12 blocks to the train station. I was late, but thank the Lord of Trains Holmes’s train was running on public transit time, which meant it was ten minutes behind schedule.

 

Out of breath, I found Holmes exiting the train.

 

“Come Watson. I feel like a walk; the exercise will do you some good.”

 

Ungrateful bastard. . . . He was lucky that it was bad publicity for a cop to take a swing at a fine citizen of this city.

 

As soon as we were out of the station, he grabbed my arm. “Who did you tell about hiring me?”

 

“No one. Why?”

 

He pulled out his clay pipe and lit it with a wooden match. Something was up. Like I said before, when the pipe is lit his thinking is in overdrive. We started down the street in silence. A few blocks later, he stopped abruptly. “We are being surveyed.”

 

“Why would we be followed?”

 

“Surveyed,” he repeated. “Not followed, my good man. It’s all quite professional.”

 

Training from my time doing undercover work took over. I stooped, pretending to tie my shoe, and turned my head to quickly memorize the people around us. Then I stood back up. “Who?”

 

“The woman with the headset and purple backpack. She is too aware of her surroundings to really be listening to music. Since we stopped she has been looking everywhere except right at us.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“I first saw her at the train station just as you arrived.”

 

“Is she following me or you?”

 

“You. The white male wearing a Penn State sweatshirt is mine. I first saw him outside my bookstore. We’re going to need to lose them before we continue.”

 

I nodded and told him to follow me to the nearby Tiffany Jewelry shop. Luis Ramos, the manager is a friend of mine from my Jersey days. I knew he’d have my back on this one. I escorted Holmes through the front door and, after a quick talk with Luis, we exited through the back door into the alley. That should give us a few minutes before our tails realize we weren’t shopping for partner bands.

 

Holmes seemed satisfied and rushed us to our first stop, insisting that we had no time to lose.

 

Our stop was Barnes and Noble and, as it turned out, we had plenty of time to lose. We went up to the second floor café for some coffee, or as he called it, “afternoon tea.”

 

“So why are we here?” I hoped for a straight answer.

 

“Isn’t my fine company enough?” When I didn’t take his bait, he continued. “Margaret matched a frequent caller to the phone we found in Ms. Farraday’s office.”

 

“How come you call her Margaret and not Ms. Liang? You’re usually formal with women.”

 

“Because that is what she chooses to be called — Margaret — and really, there is no better description of her.”

 

How does she rate so highly while I get stuck with Watson? “So what did Margaret find?”

 

“That the caller used a false name, but Margaret knew who it really was. That woman is very intelligent.”

 

He had just given his highest praise to “that woman.”

 

Holmes went on. “According to her, the caller went under the alias of Alex Winters, but I think you know him better as Edward Jenkins.”

 

Congressman Jenkins?” I had to admit that wasn’t what I’d expected.

 

“Yes. . . eighth district, I believe. And he maintains an apartment not far from the LBF offices.”

 

“Was the congressman the person who had you all bothered last night?”

 

Holmes’s face darkened. “I don’t get bothered, only concerned. And no, it wasn’t him I was concerned about. I found other names; one in particular that is too much for us to handle right now. Perhaps. . . soon.”

 

Bigger than a congressman? Congressman or not, maybe my worries are over. I tried to get him to tell me more, but when Holmes wants to avoid a topic, no interrogation technique can make him talk. Finally I said, “If we should be focusing on Jenkins, tell me why we’re sitting here sipping tea.” Coffee, I meant to say coffee. Damn him.

 

“You are about to find out; it would appear we have company.”

 

A bulky man, stuffed into a yellow polo shirt and jeans, lumbered toward us. Nothing conspicuous about this guy. “Friend of yours?”

 

“He is a business acquaintance.”

 

The man packed down on an empty seat at our table. “Here Mr. Holmes,” he said, sweat dripping down his lips. “It’s fully loaded.” He handed over a soft leather case. I didn’t have to be a detective of Holmes’s caliber to figure that it contained a laptop computer.

 

The yellow blimp spoke again. “I’ve included a shredder program that will eliminate anything you add to it. I don’t want to know how this computer was used. Leave it at the usual drop-off point — the Central Library’s lost and found.”

 

Holmes nodded. “Of course, my good man.”

 

“Good.” He pushed his bulk out of the chair and waddled off.

 

When he was out of earshot I asked, “A hacker who owes you a favor?”

 

“Actually, he is a Circuit City employee. And yes, he did owe me.”

 

***

 

That evening, I found myself standing in an apartment furnished only with a card-table and a few folding chairs. Somehow — and I’m not telling — Holmes got his hands on the keys to this place, and it was conveniently located one floor below an apartment rented by Alex Winters, a.k.a. Congressman Jenkins.

 

Holmes sat at the table and began setting up the laptop. After it booted, he inserted the now familiar blue flash thumb-drive into an open USB port.

 

“What’s wrong?” I said dryly. “Didn’t your man give you the password to use that thing?”

 

“Not at all, my dear Watson. I’m loading a Remote Access Trojan program.”

 

I’d remember reading about RATs in some pamphlet that had been passed around HQ. They have something to do with recording keystrokes; a way for hackers to steal passwords. I watched as Holmes swapped the blue thumb-drive for a pink one. “What’s that one for?”

 

“This is smoke and mirrors. . . a little something to be found if anyone looks too closely.”

 

“As in hiding a big crime with a smaller one? Yeah, that I get.”

 

“Indeed. But only if it is looked for.”

 

“So what’s the point of all this?”

 

“It turns out that Congressman Jenkins subscribes to an Internet phone plan. I’m loading the same software his service providers use to route data packets.”

 

“Let me guess — you have an acquaintance at the cable company.”

 

Holmes shook his head. “That, Watson, is the difference between us. I don’t guess. This program puts a virus on his computer via his cable connection. That virus will allow me to monitor the phone’s incoming and outgoing history.”

 

“Is that also how you’re getting the RAT on his computer?”

 

“Indeed.” He began typing in a series of commands, not looking up from the monitor. “Do you think Daniel Farraday knew about your affair with his wife?”

 

I sighed. So here it is, my time of reckoning. “How long have you known?”

 

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. “It was easy enough to piece together. I knew you recognized the cell phone at LBF. You must have had one of your own to keep in contact with your Ms. Farraday. I suggest that you return it to Margaret. I’m sure she would appreciate the consideration.”

 

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Damn those phones!”

 

Holmes nodded. “Yes, but you can’t dispute their convenience. Margaret rents out phones to couples who want discretion. No worries about spouses finding unwanted phone numbers on phone bills. It is also my understanding that Margaret offers prepaid locations for rendezvous.”

 

“I don’t know anything about that. . . . Janis made all the arrangements. She gave me the phone and said she would take care of the bills. It was during my separation from Emma. Otherwise I wouldn’t have –”

 

Holmes held up a hand. “That is between you and Emma. I can only imagine her sense of betrayal if she found out, but my concern has only to do with your lack of honesty with me.”

 

“I never lied to you.” After an awkward silence, I added, “You have to understand. . . on the night she died, Janis was on her way to meet with me, not the congressman. And the next day it was me who was sent with the forensic guys to inspect the body in the alley.” The words kept rushing from my mouth. “I have no alibi. People might think she was blackmailing me and I killed her so Emma wouldn’t find out.”

 

Holmes rose from the folding chair and started pacing. “Yes, that would fit the facts. But they tell me a different story. It is a mistake to assume that you were the only one she was meeting with outside of her marriage. And then. . . .” He snapped his fingers. “Of course! That’s it!”

 

“What?”

 

He stopped pacing and faced me. “Blackmail, of course! She was the one being blackmailed. That’s his modus operandi. Then he found out that her paramour was you. He must have had a good laugh at that. He no doubt knows of our collaborations.”

 

“He? He who?”

 

“Never mind that for now. You are being set up for murder.”

 

“What? But why?”

 

He flashed a rare full smile. “Why? For the most singular of reasons: to get at me. This is all part of a game, you see.”

 

“You’re insane! This isn’t about you.”

 

His eyes narrowed. “No, I suppose not. Currently this is about you not going to prison. I suspect we are on a deadline in finding you innocent. Like that cell phone we found at LBF, I suspect more and more evidence will miraculously appear linking you to Ms. Farraday. It was a time bomb. Inevitably, that phone would have been found by the next person assigned to Mrs. Farraday’s office.

 

“Come, we don’t need to stay here for the software to work. Mrs. Hudson will have someone come here to clean up.” He pulled his jacket off the chair. “Your house is probably under surveillance and –”

 

“Yeah, what’s up with us being tailed? The blackmailer?”

 

“I suspect not. Call your wife and make some excuse as to why you won’t be home tonight. Hopefully, she isn’t too used those type of calls. In any case, I’ve taken the liberty of booking you a room at the Ritz Carlton. I’m sure our observers won’t suspect that you’re hiding out at a 4 star hotel.”

 

“I can’t afford to stay at a place like that.”

 

“It’s taken care of, and without a paper trail. Just tell the concierge your name is Watson. You are expected.”

 

“You have a lot of friends.”

 

“I am a very agreeable person. Tomorrow morning I think we should visit your friend, the Tiffany store manager, and view the security tapes to see who may have followed us inside.”

 

“Are you sure? The place may be under observation.”

 

“One can only hope.”

 

I did as Holmes suggested and called Emma, then left for the Ritz. Sure enough, the concierge hooked me up with a set of room keys. Since I had no luggage to drop off, I went straight to the lounge and ordered a vodka tonic. As an added bonus, an attractive redhead appeared on the stool next to me. She was very flirty, but not in that pay-for-services sort of way, if you know what I mean. When the conversation started getting suggestive, I held up my hand to show my wedding ring.

 

She smiled. “That only makes things more exciting.”

 

I paid her bar tab and excused myself to go up my room, alone, in the hope of getting some sleep.

 

At exactly ten the next morning, I met Holmes in front of Tiffany’s. If we were right, there would be some excited observers on radios asking for instructions. I hated putting Luis in a comprising position, but Holmes felt the risk was minimal — and besides, Luis enjoyed playing undercover agent.

 

He led us to a wall of monitors in the store’s security office; each screen displayed a different angle of the showroom. He loaded a tape with yesterday’s date on it.

 

“Here,” he said, pointing at one of the monitors. “The two of you are walking in.” Then he fast-forwarded the tape for a few seconds and then froze the image. “And this guy walked in about 10 minutes after you left.”

 

My heart began beating in my ears.

 

Holmes pulled his pipe out of his jacket and tapped it against his palm. “I’d had my suspicions, but this confirms the worst of them.”

 

It was Jerry Reynolds. My partner.

 

Holmes laid a hand on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t take it personally. Come, let’s walk out the front door and greet the Great White Hunter.”

 

The next few seconds were foggy. I thanked Luis, I think, for his help and I heard Holmes (again, I think) phone Mrs. Hudson to tell her he was going to be late for lunch. Then I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and nodded at Holmes, indicating that I was ready.

 

As we stepped out the front entrance, Jerry, the bastard, joined us in formation. “Hi Caleb.”

 

I looked at him. “I thought you were on vacation.”

 

“Who says I’m not?”

 

“You’ve got some strange ideas of relaxation.”

 

He sighed. “Let’s go someplace where we can talk.”

 

“Franklin Square, maybe?”

 

“No, not HQ. I haven’t had breakfast. I was thinking of Little Pete’s diner.”

 

Unless his goal was to torture me with cholesterol, this would not have been my first choice for interrogation. But I nodded and we made our way to the greasy diner a few blocks away.

 

The place wasn’t too crowded. There were a few people at the front counter and a couple of the booths were occupied. A swarthy man in jeans and a white t-shirt led us to a booth near the back. Jerry sat across from me and Holmes. “Why you?” I asked.

 

“Because I volunteered. The Feds know all about the Farraday woman and Congressman Jenkins. After Jenkins heard about her death, he called the FBI and spilled everything he knew about her. He reckoned her death was some sort of warning to him, but of what he wasn’t sure, or so he says. Me, I don’t trust politicians. Anyway, they traced her to you. Because you’re a cop, they played it straight and checked in with the chief. He called me back from Atlantic City.”

 

A curvy brunette, flashing a fake smile, came to our table to take our order. Jerry ordered an omelet and his favorite, double-fried hash browns. I ordered a coffee. Holmes just shooed her away.

 

“They asked me everything I knew about my buddy Caleb,” Jerry continued. “You know, crap like habit changes and all that. So I figured you must be in some major shit. Then they ask me about Emma. I tell them we’re so close our families hang out together on weekends. Then they hit me with a curve-ball and asked how long I’d known about you screwing Farraday.”

 

I unclench my jaw: “And did you know?”

 

He glared at me. “Of course not! Why would you trust your partner with shit like that?”

 

Holmes chuckled. “No, he is not very good with trust.”

 

We both ignored Holmes. “There was no reason to tell you,” I said. “She was married.”

 

“They told me all about the two of you. I asked them how they knew. Here’s the kicker.” He leaned forward. “They actually told me how they knew.”

 

Holmes chuckled again. “Of course they did.”

 

This time Jerry grabbed the bait. “Shut your faggot mouth!” He turned back to me. “They told me they’d already been following the Farraday woman because of her connection to the congressman. They already knew about the affair. They’d been tipped off that she might be blackmailing the man.”

 

I glanced at Holmes, but he wasn’t giving up anything. He just sat, grinning and enjoying the conversation.

 

“After a second tip, they discovered she was also screwing a cop — the same cop, as it turned out, who would be leading her murder investigation. You’re in deep, man.”

 

Holmes cleared his throat, and in the loudest tone I’ve ever heard from him, he said, “Why are you helping them set up Caleb?”

 

Holmes used my real name. Hell, he nearly shouted it. Everyone in the place was looking at him. Well, almost everyone. The woman sitting at the counter kept her eyes on the newspaper. Damn, Holmes was right. I looked at Jerry. “How many agents are here?”

 

Jerry’s eyes darted left and right. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Holmes sighed. “It’s elementary. There are two posing as customers and one posing as our server.”

 

“Fine,” Jerry said in a low voice. “They figure Caleb is part of some bigger organization. They won’t tell me anything else.”

 

“They’re only half-right,” Holmes said. “There is a something bigger, but Caleb doesn’t have any information to offer. He has been set up as a distraction. I, on the other hand, have something useful to trade in exchange for exonerating Caleb of any charges. I’ll even give you a free sample of what I can give the FBI. Despite his claims, no one was blackmailing the congressman. That was a bit of smoke to blind people to a real crime.”

 

Jerry sneered. “And what would that be?”

 

“Embezzlement. And Ms. Farraday’s tragedy gave him the perfect opportunity for some misdirection. Tell your FBI handlers that I have acquired a copy of the password and the routing number of a certain offshore account.”

 

“How about you give them to me? That way you don’t get arrested for obstruction of justice.”

 

Holmes smiled — a full smile. “Then the FBI will not get what they want and my staff of lawyers will get me back to my humble bookshop within 24 hours. Trust me, the greater inconvenience will be that experienced by the FBI.”

 

Jerry nodded. “You might be set free, but Caleb will be rotting away in prison for a long time.” His gaze shifted to me. “You hear that Caleb? If you’re lucky you might be out by the time of your daughter’s graduation.”

 

It took what little sanity I had left not to punch him in the face.

 

Holmes smiled again. “I’m not sure what charges you can level at my companion. A number of witnesses are able to back up Caleb’s alibi.”

 

What alibi? He must be bluffing. Unless of course, he wasn’t and there were a few of his handy acquaintances were ready to testify for me.

 

Holmes pulled out a pocket notebook, tore off a sheet, and slid it across the table to Jerry. “Arrest this man for the murder of Janis Farraday. That should restore the honor the Philadelphia constabulary.” He leaned back. “Everybody will get what they want.”

 

Jerry pocketed the paper and shook his head. “I don’t like this.”

 

Holmes shrugged. “Not my problem. I will allow no warrants or threats against my person or Caleb. If my conditions are not met by 8 pm tonight, at least some of the. . .   shall I say, less-convenient materials concerning this matter will be passed on to The Philadelphia Inquirer and The New York Times. I assume you have my number.” Holmes stood up and walked out of the diner. I followed.

 

Once we were outside, I asked, “Whose name was on that paper?”

 

“A contract killer.”

 

He told me the name, but I didn’t recognize it. “And you’re sure he killed Janis?”

 

“I’m sure enough to make a deal with the police. He was in town on the night in question and he is often in the employ of. . . well, someone that I will have to deal with. Still, it’s enough for the local police to save face on a stalled investigation.”

 

“Will they take your offer?”

 

He nodded. “They will.”

 

“The thing I still don’t understand is what was up with the cell phones?”

 

“I believe she actually had both phones with her that night. Our killer didn’t know which to bring back to his master, so he grabbed them both.”

 

“And why kill her at all?”

 

“To gain control over Congressman Jenkins. He kept the phone to guarantee Jenkins’s loyalty. But once my opponent found out about you, the game changed. Now, I have to leave you for awhile. I need to leave something to the library.” He raised his hand and a familiar taxi pulled over.

 

Once alone, I figured I’d head for HQ and register for some time off. I’m sure the department won’t shed a tear over my absence for awhile. Maybe I’ll spend more time with my family.

 

Someone wrapped their arm around mine and I started.

 

It was Margaret. “I have some good news for you. You aren’t being followed anymore.”

 

“Unless you count.” I looked down at her. Man, I swear she fell out of some fashion magazine.

 

“I always count.”

 

“Did you know about me and Janis all along?”

 

Margaret smiled. “Longer than Holmes, at least.”

 

“Why didn’t you ever come forward and tell the police?”

 

She laughed, but because she somehow made even that sexy, I wasn’t offended. “I enjoyed watching how it all played out,” she said.

 

“What is it with this game that everyone is playing?”

 

“I noticed you don’t like games much — at least not with red-heads.”

 

“The hotel bar? One of yours?”

 

“Holmes has his way of getting information and I have my way.”

 

“Feminine charms.”

 

“Oh not just feminine. I have something for all preferences.”

 

“Is that how you get information from Holmes?”

 

She laughed again. “Holmes? You should not rely on your partner as a source of information. Despite Detective Reynolds’s billing, Holmes is not a fag. Trust me. I know.”

 

Great. Everyone seems to know everything — except for me. I sighed. “How did you know what Jerry said?”

 

“My girls aren’t as easy to detect as the FBI. Perhaps even Holmes was unaware.”

 

Just as I was wondering whether anyone at little Pete’s was an actual customer, a taxi pulled over and Philippe got out. He opened a back seat door and, surprise, surprise, there sat Holmes and Mrs. Hudson.

 

Mrs. Hudson’s eyes glowered with disapproval at the sight of Margaret. Margaret smiled at her and leaned over to kiss my cheek. After a quick nibble on my earlobe, she whispered, “Don’t trust the old woman.”

 

At this point no one had to tell me not to trust anyone. I was already there.

 

“Come, Watson,” said Holmes. “The game is afoot again and we have a villain to catch.”

 

“Are you going tell me who the mastermind behind all this is?”

 

“Why, Moriarty of course!”

 

Like I said before, the thing about Holmes is that he is delusional, or plays at it, but if he says there’s a Moriarty in play, then there really is a big fish out there somewhere. Certainly bigger than a Congressman. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I was excited. I got in the taxi.

The End

Fall Guy by Rafe McGregor

The mission was simple: book in at the ski resort, find Brooks, shoot him. Then get on the next bus to Turin, and take the first flight back to Dublin. He should have been dead by Thursday at the latest. But he wasn’t. Creek had held back because there were too many players on the field. He didn’t know who they were. Mafia, spooks, undercover cops, other assassins?   Whatever they were, they’d had plenty of opportunities to pick Creek up. He’d even left the Beretta in a sealed plastic bag in the toilet cistern on Wednesday. He couldn’t think of anywhere more obvious. When he returned in the evening he could tell someone had been in the room.   But the Beretta was still there.   And two days later he was still on the slopes. So the spooks also wanted Brooks dead.

Creek was surprised he’d been given the mission. There’d been rumours of a purge for a few weeks now. The word was, everyone who’d been in the security forces prior to the 1994 elections was being retired. Police, Defence Force, Intelligence Agency, Secret Service – no one would escape this time. And Creek was old school. Only by a year or so, but that wouldn’t make any difference. So when he’d received his third summons from the Director General’s office, he’d assumed they were letting him go. But it was another job, a favour for the Americans this time. It seemed the new government needed reliable killers just as much as the old.

Creek realised he hadn’t paid enough attention to the turn ahead.

The orange plastic safety netting loomed rapidly. He twisted into a parallel left turn, kicked up a flurry of snow, then hopped to his right, braking sharply. The deceleration was just enough to allow him to take the turn without ploughing through the netting into the trees beyond. Creek heaved a sigh of relief – straightened up – and found himself a metre away from a skier who’d stopped to take in the view. There was nothing he could do except save himself, so he crouched low and hit the man with his right shoulder. He heard a grunt, veered wildly, corrected himself, and skidded to a halt.

When he turned back to look, the man was gone.

Creek left the run, skiing down to the pine trees. A couple of metres into the wood, he saw the man lying on the snow. He must have bumped him off the slope. He’d only fallen a couple of metres down the bank, but Creek scissored his skis forward to give him a hand. The man was lying on his back, motionless. Creek wondered if he’d hit his head on one of the trees – then he saw who it was. First Sergeant Arnold T. Brooks, US 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment D. A veteran Delta Force Operator and a serial killer who’d notched up twenty-eight women in thirteen countries. And those were only the ones the CIA knew about. Creek stepped out of his skis, dropped his poles, and stamped his way through the last few metres of powdery snow.

Brooks groaned, and started to push himself up into a sitting position.

Creek glanced up to the slope to make sure no one was there.   Then he moved in behind Brooks, pulled his head back, and slit his throat with an Eickorn combat knife.   Twenty-three years of covert operations and three wars didn’t make the skin any tougher. Creek kept himself clear as the blood spurted out over the snow, and dropped the twitching body. The blood steamed in the cold air as flakes of snow began to fall.

Creek hurled the Eickorn further into the trees and returned to his skis. He had just enough time to get back to the Sporthotel, pick up his rucksack, and ski down to Cesara for the last bus at five. By the time they found Brooks, he’d be halfway to Turin.   By the time they found he was missing, he’d be back at Alexandra House. Creek bent down to turn his skis around and heard someone on the slope above skidding to a halt.

Quickly, he picked up the poles and slotted his boots back into the skis.   He heard a couple of men speaking Italian on the slope – no, they’d come down the bank into the wood – they were heading his way. The man in the lead and Creek saw each other at the same time. It was one of the spooks. Creek pointed his skis down slope, off-piste through the wood, and pushed himself forward. He saw the man draw a pistol. Creek crouched low, and winced in anticipation.

Crack!

The shot rang out behind and Creek heard the bullet thump into a tree trunk. Crack, Crack! More shots.   He ducked even lower, weaved in between the trees, and careered wildly down the mountain. More shots – shouts – then shots again. Creek threw himself around a tree – was caught by a branch – regained his balance – and hurtled down towards the bottom of the valley.

Three minutes later.

Creek slowed and stopped, heart pounding and chest heaving. He listened for a full ten seconds.   Nothing. The snow was falling thick and fast. It would cover his tracks. He swivelled to his left, so he was facing north, and moved off abreast of the river flowing far below. The spooks had been following him. It was the only way they could’ve found him so soon. And they weren’t cops either. Cops identified themselves before they started shooting. They wanted Brooks and Creek dead. Two deaths: nice, neat, no questions asked.

Change of plan.

No going back to the hotel now. Creek had everything he needed on him: wallet, passports, compass, binoculars, map. He would stay off-piste until he passed below the Sporthotel – which should be coming up on the left shortly. Then he’d join the blue run down to Cesara Torinese. Once he was on that he knew it would take no more than twenty minutes to reach the bus stop. He checked his watch: sixteen twenty, plenty of time.

Sixteen thirty-one.

Creek still hadn’t seen the Sporthotel, or found the blue run, but there was a helicopter circling overhead. Somehow he didn’t think it was mountain rescue. He took out the binoculars and read the markings through the snow: Arma dei Carabinieri, Italy’s paramilitary police. They must’ve been on standby.

Did they have orders to shoot on sight?

The snowfall showed no signs of abating and Creek knew he was safe in the trees, but he was running out of time. He slid forward to the edge of the wood and turned the binoculars down the valley to the town below.

It was a trade-off now.

He could keep skiing north until he found a run to take him down to the town. But if he didn’t find one in the next five minutes he’d miss the bus and be caught by the police. Alternately he could take a bearing on the road winding along next to the river below, and head straight for it. He’d have to ditch the skis because the ground was too uneven. It was less than three kilometres away, so he should reach it in time if he didn’t twist and ankle or worse en route. But if he did fall – well, then it would be just the same as if he’d missed the bus. Creek ditched his skis and poles and set off at a jog.

Sixteen forty-four.

Creek was puffing and panting, fighting his way through the thick blanket of snow on the ground, but he was making good time. The slope was steep, and gravity was doing most of the work.   He just had to keep his balance, and keep watching where he put his feet. Less than a kilometre to go: nearly there.

Sixteen forty-nine.

Creek could see the river now, about fifty metres ahead. He forced himself on – stumbled – couldn’t regain his footing, and tumbled head over heels. He went over once, twice – couldn’t pull out of the fall – and pitched headlong. He bounced off a tree, hit the ground heavily, and rolled down slope on his side.   He spun around and around until – thump – he stopped suddenly. The impact winded him and he felt pain shoot through his right thigh. He kept still and forced himself to breath deeply.   Then he looked down: he’d rolled into a fallen tree, and the jagged edge of a cracked branch had impaled his right quadricep.

Creek froze.

He heard a voice – voices. Three men were walking up from the river. Wearing Alpine camouflage and balaclavas; carrying rifles. Then a fourth. They were fanned out across to the south, walking up to Sagna Longa and the Sporthotel. Creek kept still as the heavy flakes fell on his face and covered his body. More voices – to the north this time. Another four cops sweeping up the slope to Sagna Longa.   He shuddered at the pain, but forced himself to hold still. At least the wood sticking in his wound kept it from bleeding heavily.

Two deaths: nice, neat, no questions asked. Brooks, an operator discovered to have a penchant for torturing young women to death, no longer any use to Delta Force. Creek, an officer who knew too many secrets and had been around too long, no good to the South African Secret Service. No good alive. Welcome to the purge.

Sixteen fifty-nine.

When the men were out of earshot Creek tightened his abdominal muscles to keep his lower body still, and pulled off his jacket, sweatshirt, and thermal vest. He put the sweatshirt and jacket back on and tore the vest into three strips. He folded one of the strips into a small, thick square. Then he clenched his jaw tight and used his left hand to shove his leg off the spike.   The blood gushed out and he clamped the makeshift bandage over it. He tied the other two strips tight around his thigh. Then he pushed himself to his feet, and put a little weight on the leg.   It hurt like hell, but it would work.

Change of plan.

He dismissed the alternate escape route he’d been given. Everything from the Secret Service was part of the trap.   Time to take the quickest route out of Italy on his own. He took out the map and compass. Claviere, on the border, was about six kilometres west-north-west; Montgenèvre, the closest French settlement, was a further two kilometres.

He dropped John Creek’s passport in the snow and set off for Montgenèvre.

The End

Dying to Please by Connie Ferdon

“Hmmm…Richard Wittmer, deceased, Fayetteville, Arkansas, survived by his wife, Sara Wittmer and their two sons, Josh and Justin.   Visitation will be at six Friday at Miller and Stephens Funeral Home. Interminent will be at one Saturday at Lone Pine Cemetery.”

 

Hank Rogers sat at his kitchen table, sipping hot black coffee while he perused the obituaries, looking for his next score.   Once he found an expensive death notice, complete with picture and a listing of the surviving family, he would rob the house while the bereaved was at the funeral. This line of work had kept him successful for three months.   Who needed a nine-to-five job when grieving people left donations in their homes for him to find?

 

“Nice picture. His family spent some money on his obituary. He looks like he has a nice house with plenty of valuables.   I’ll just drive out there this afternoon and scope out the place. I’ll get his address from the phone book and get a feel for the area.”

 

Hank didn’t have any trouble finding the house that afternoon. He loved it when everybody cooperated to provide him with information on the family of the deceased: the phone book company and the newspapers. He cruised by the two-story brick home, three-car garage, and the immaculate lawn. Being out in the country, there probably wouldn’t be a security system or any noisy neighbors or passing traffic, he noted with satisfaction.

“Yep, this will be a good score. Now to wait until everybody’s at the visitation tomorrow so I can get a closer look. Might have to borrow a bigger truck for this haul.”

 

Hank drove back to his house, preparing his bag with binoculars, night vision goggles and dark clothing. Now, it was just a matter of waiting until the time was right.

 

Friday evening brought Hank to his target’s house.   He parked his beat up black pickup truck across the road in a grove of trees with a good view of the house, thanks to his binoculars. Hank sipped his coffee from a thermos while he waited for the family to leave. He glanced around at his cluttered vehicle.

“Maybe after this score, I can finally get that SUV I’ve had my eye on since I discovered this lucrative job. I just renewed my license, tags, and insurance, but after this haul, it won’t matter.” He smiled. “It’s comforting to know that people are dying to provide for my pleasure.”

Hank was soon rewarded with a darkened house.   Tossing his empty thermos onto the cluttered floorboard, he rubbed his hands in anticipation. Within moments, three cars left the garage and passed in front of him, unaware of his existence.

 

“Must be family members coming for mutual support,” he reasoned. “Which means extra goods for the taking.”

 

After a couple of minutes, Hank started his engine and drove down the driveway with his headlights off. He parked his vehicle behind some bushes that blocked some of the view from the road, just in case of a passing car. Donning his night vision goggles, he exited and crept around the house.

 

The domain remained dark and quiet. No dogs barked. No security lights setting off. Hank peered into windows on the bottom floor. His goggles showed him the expensive interior of the deceased.   Going from window to window, he gleaned the knowledge of the possessions and the layout of the house.

 

Hank finished his survey of his target and walked back to his vehicle.

“What a setup! I’ll definitely be in the money after I unload this haul. Trade in this sorry vehicle for a cleaner, newer one.   Life is going to be sweet.”

 

The next afternoon Hank drove to the deceased house at twelve thirty and parked in the grove as before. The light falling rain and gray clouds gave him extra cover in the trees. Besides, he knew the mourners would be too distraught to notice a truck parked in the grove. He drank his coffee in silence, dreaming of a richer life.

Within moments, the same three cars drove by.   Smiling, Hank crumpled his empty paper coffee cup, tossing it to the floor. He drove his truck up the driveway and again parked it next to the bushes. He was also pleased to have a huge oak tree offering shelter from the rain. He didn’t want Mother Nature ruining his electronic score.

 

Wearing jeans, sweatshirt and sneaks, Hank pulled out his locksmith kit. Breaking in was a piece of cake. Still no alarms went off or any barking dogs coming to attack. Working his way room to room, Hank found jewelry, money, credit cards, and plenty of TVs, cameras, camcorders, DVDs and CD players. After making several trips to the truck, he checked his watch.

“I should have another thirty minutes before the mourners return. Don’t want to push my luck.”

 

After the last load, Hank threw a tarp over the stolen items, tying it down. Satisfied, he drove straight to Glenn’s garage to trade these items in for some cold hard cash, which Hank was going to trade in for a newer vehicle.

 

That evening after a profitable exchange with Glenn, Hank sat in his living room, looking at the car dealership ads. After he bought a new vehicle, he would pick out another deceased victim and keep the ball rolling.

 

A pounding on the door interrupted his scheming.

 

“Open up! Police!”

 

The door burst open before Hank could stand up.   Three policemen, guns trained on their target, barged into Hank’s living room. They easily slapped handcuffs on the speechless thief.

 

“H…h…how did you find me?” Hank finally managed to sputter.

 

“Well,” one officer replied, “You left us your calling card.” He held up Hank’s vehicle insurance card, which was splattered with a muddy shoe print.   “Next time, leave this in your glove box and not on the floorboard where it can stick to your shoes and then fall off in the house you’re robbing.”

 

The officer grabbed Hank’s arm, leading him to the door.

 

“Let’s go. Mr. Wittmer’s family is dying to see you in jail.”

The End

A Desperate Act by Herschel Cozine

Life in the small town of Howesville changed the day Mike Thurber arrived

It had been over half a lifetime since I last saw Rick Houston. He had been a major force in my life once, an unwelcome interlude that I have tried hard to forget. So I wasn’t ready for the phone call. Nor was I prepared to deal with the memories that came with it.   It was inevitable, I know. Rick’s strange disappearance had never been explained, and the police kept the book open. Now it was over, and I guess in some ways I was relieved. But it will never “be over” for me.

A lot of water has passed under the bridge since Rick went away. I no longer lived in Oakville. But I suppose, like most people, I never really left the town.   I loved it, and still do.

 

Oakville was not a town for the likes of Rick Houston. It was a small, secluded community, nestled in the foothills of Southern California. Life in Oakville was—how would one phrase it—idyllic. No drug problems. No gangs or other bad influences to disturb the peaceful existence of the two thousand inhabitants.

 

It was in the late fifties, a time before Viet Nam and the unrest of the turbulent sixties. I was entering my junior year in high school. I was looking forward to the school year, planning to try out for the baseball team and the junior play.

 

Then Rick appeared.   A sulky, ill-tempered teen from Chicago, he moved with his divorced mother into the former Johnston house on the outskirts of town. Mrs. Houston, a small, mousy woman of indeterminate age, wore a look of perpetual sadness, as one would expect of a mother of an out of control teenager.   She took a job as a maid at the local motel and kept to herself.

 

Rick was instantly a problem. Uncooperative with teachers at school, bullying with his classmates, and contemptuous of the law, Rick was constantly in trouble with the faculty as well as the local police. Most of his transgressions were minor: truancy, classroom infractions, and general behavior problems. But it disrupted the otherwise peaceful environment of the small school. No one was quite sure how to deal with him, and except for an occasional trip to the principal’s office, Rick did pretty much what he wanted to do.

 

I met him on the first day of the new school year. For reasons I shall never understand, Rick was drawn to me.   He bullied me, to be sure. But he was protective as well. I didn’t welcome his bullying or his protection. I could do without the former, and I certainly did not need the latter. There were no threats or challenges from my schoolmates that I couldn’t handle. And we had nothing in common. I was shy, introverted and studious. Rick was none of these.

 

Nonetheless, Rick sought me out, and in his own peculiar way treated me as his friend. In all of the time that I spent with him, I saw no one else whom he considered a friend.   The girls were afraid of him. The boys kept their distance. He went out for the high school football team, and his natural physical ability along with his aggressive personality landed him a first string spot at fullback. But football, to him, was not a game. It was another form of legal violence in which he excelled and enjoyed in a sadistic sort of way. Often he would miss practice as well as games. The coach was patient, only because Rick’s talent was needed to field a competitive team. But it was clear that the coach and the rest of the team were not happy with his lack of commitment.

 

It was toward the end of the school year when he collared me after school as I sat at the counter in the soda shop where I waited for the school bus to deliver me home. I lived on an orange ranch a few miles from the school, and, along with several others, patronized the soda shop while waiting for the bus to deliver students who lived on the west end of town. The school district was small, with limited funds, so one bus was all that was available.   We didn’t mind. It gave us a little free time before we had to get home to our chores and homework.

 

He slid on the stool next to mine, ordered a coke, and slammed a quarter on the Formica countertop. Sally, the soda girl, a pretty classmate, smiled nervously and twisted away from the grip he had on her wrist. He laughed and turned to me.

 

“Hey, pal. I don’t know how you stand it here.”

 

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

 

“This.” he said, waving his arm around the room. “Boring!”

 

I followed the sweep of his hand. Having lived most of my life in Oakville, I saw nothing wrong with the way we lived our lives. I said nothing.

 

“Don’t you ever want to break out and do something besides drink soda pop and wait for a goddam bus?”

 

“Yeah. I guess,” I said, not certain how to answer his question.

 

“What do you do for excitement in this burg?”

 

I considered the question. Nothing exciting ever happened in Oakville. But we didn’t care. Excitement was not high on our list of priorities.

 

“Dunno,” I said.

 

Rick snorted. “What do you mean, you don’t know, for Crissake? You must do something besides go to school and help your daddy pick oranges.”

 

“Sure,” I said.   “We have a movie house. We ride horses. We go to the beach in Jackson in the summer. We have picnics.” I paused to think of other events, but he cut me off with another snort, louder than the first.

 

“Jesus,” he said.   “You sound like The Beaver.” He took the coke, removed the drinking straw from it and drank. Setting the glass back on the counter, he nudged me with his elbow.

 

“I want excitement, not a goddamn TV show. Where do you get your liquor?”

 

“Liquor?” I said.   “I don’t. I’m only sixteen.”

 

“What the hell does that matter?” he said. “Does Jackson have a liquor store?”

 

I nodded. “I guess so.”

 

“What about girls?”

 

“What about them?” I said.

 

Rick exploded.   “My God, you’re a piece of work.   Back where I come from you could get anything you want if you knew where to go for it. Booze. Women”. He winked.   “I mean real women. Not the little tightasses you got here.” He shook his head and sighed.

 

“You could get anything you wanted if you knew where to look.”

 

“Marijuana?”   I asked, intrigued.

 

Rick laughed out loud. “Kid stuff!   Sure, you could get that anywhere.   Hell, I could buy that from the school janitor.” His eyes took on a reflective look and an enigmatic smile crossed his lips.

 

“Me and Joe had some great times,” he said at last. Turning to me, still smiling, he said, “Have you ever hot wired a car?”

Before I could answer he waved a hand in disgust. “No. Of course not. I bet you don’t even know how to drive.”
“I do so!” I said.

 

Rick studied my face for a few seconds, then shrugged. “OK,” he said. “Don’t get sore. But I bet you never drove a real car. Your old man’s Hupmobile ain’t nothing more than a lawnmower.”

 

I started to protest, thought better of it, and sipped my coke. In the short time I knew him, I had learned that it was better not to argue with him. It could get physical fast, and I was no match for him.

 

“Hey!” he said, breaking the silence. “What do you say we drive over to Jackson?”

 

“Can’t,” I said.

 

“Why not?”

 

“I gotta get home and do my chores.”

 

“It’s Friday,” he said, grabbing me by the arm. “Call your old lady and tell her you’ll be late.”

 

“But…” I started.

 

“C’mon,” Rick said.   “Live a little. God, man. You have the rest of your life to do what your mamma wants.” He ushered me out of the soda shop and down the street to his car.

 

Rick’s car was a flashy, if old, sports car, with a new coat of paint and chrome tailpipes.   A decal of flame was on each side, giving it an appearance of power that both awed and scared me. With some reluctance I crawled into the passenger seat and locked the door. This was before the age of seat belts, so I gripped the armrest and dug my feet into the floorboard in anticipation of a fast, probably dangerous ride. Rick looked over at me as he started the engine and smiled maliciously.

 

“Ready?”

 

I nodded.

 

He pressed the starter button and the engine roared to life with a deafening noise that echoed along the otherwise placid street. The town’s lone patrol car was nowhere in sight. I knew from previous conversations with Rick that he had been ticketed for various traffic offenses, primarily lack of a muffler. Instead of conforming, he treated the tickets like badges of honor.

 

With a squeal of tires, he pulled away from the curb and headed west, toward the coast.

 

“Where are we going?” I asked.

 

Rick didn’t answer.   Outside the city limits now, he accelerated, his eyes bright with excitement. I watched nervously as the speedometer pushed toward sixty. The road was narrow, with curves and hills that made driving over forty-five a dangerous undertaking. I dug in, wanting desperately to cry out for him to slow down.   But my pride, or whatever it is teenagers have that keep them from acting sensibly in times like this, kept me from saying or doing anything “cowardly”. Although I didn’t like Rick, I felt the need for his approval.   Swallowing my fears, I remained silent.

 

After what seemed an eternity, we were on the outskirts of Jackson. The town itself was not impressive. It was divided in two by the coast highway, with the beach on one side of the road and the main part of town on the other. Rick wheeled on to the Pacific Coast Highway, headed north, and passed a semi chugging up the small rise leading toward San Roberto. I held on, praying silently for the ride to end.

 

Rick slowed the car as we approached a service station. He pulled in, parked next to the gas pump and got out of the car.

 

“Wait here,” he said.

 

I watched as he went inside. I could see him talking to the attendant behind the counter. Then, suddenly, before I realized what was happening, I saw a flash of light followed quickly by the sound of a shot. I watched in horror as the attendant slumped to the floor. I could see Rick fumbling with the keys of the cash register. A few seconds later he ran back to the car, got in and started the engine.

 

“You shot him!”   I shouted as we sped away from the station.

 

Rick had a grim look on his face; not a look of fear as I expected. It was an evil, excited look.

 

“You shot him!”   I said again.

 

Rick turned to me, the excitement flashing in his eyes. Taking the money from his shirt pocket he threw it in my lap. “Yeah,” he said. “The stupid jerk wouldn’t give me the dough.”

 

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know,” Rick said. “For Chrissake, do you think I was going to take the time to find out?”

 

“Rick!” I shouted over the roar of the engine. “We gotta go back and help him!”

 

Rick glared at me and sped up. “Are you crazy?” he said.   “I just shot the guy. We gotta get out of here.”

 

“But…” I started.

 

“Shut up!” he said, and for the first time since I met Rick I detected a note of fear in his voice.

 

I thought I was going to be sick. Rick must have realized it, because he left the main road and drove along a one lane unpaved road until we were out of sight from the highway. He stopped the car and sat back. I jumped out, ran over to a tree and threw up. Standing up slowly, I walked back to the car. I wanted to run. I wanted to get as far away from Rick as I could. But there was no place to go. Still feeling sick, I crawled back into the car and leaned back.

 

“Feelin’ better?”   Rick asked.

 

“Not really.”

 

Rick laughed nervously. “Jeez, what a jerk!” He said.

 

“Me?” I asked.

 

Rick snorted.   “No. The guy at the station. Sixty-five lousy dollars and he fights over like it was a million bucks.” He shook his head as he started the car. “It ain’t worth risking your life for.”

 

I didn’t answer.   Shaking and sick, I closed my eyes.   Rick drove in silence, considerably slower than he had before.

 

“I want to go home,” I said.

 

The drive back to Oakville was made without a word from either of us.

 

Rick dropped me off at the intersection near my home. I got out of the car and started to close the door. Rick reached over and grabbed my hand.

“Listen, pal.   Not a word of this to anybody, understand?”

 

I wrenched my hand free, shut the door and started to walk.

Rick drove slowly along next to me. “We’re in this together. You were with me. If anybody finds out about this we’re both in trouble. Do you hear me?”

 

“I didn’t shoot him,” I said.

 

“You were there.   That’s all the cops care about.   You’re as guilty as I am.”

 

Suddenly, without any warning, I started to cry. Rick stopped the car, climbed out and crossed over to me. Strangely, instead of getting angry, he put his arm around my shoulder.

 

“Hey, kid.   It’s goin’ to be all right.   Nobody saw us. Keep your mouth shut and we don’t have nothin’ to be afraid of.” He reached into his shirt pocket and extracted the money. Peeling off a twenty, he handed it to me.

 

“Here,” he said.   “Your part of the take.”

 

I pulled away.   “I don’t want it!”   I shouted. “I don’t want any of that money. It’s dirty.”

 

Rick shrugged and put it back in his pocket. “Suit yourself,” he said, anger creeping back in his voice. “But remember, not a word to anybody. Understand?”

 

I pushed my hands deeper into my pockets.

 

“Understand?”   he said in a threatening voice.

 

Finally, I nodded.

 

He visibly relaxed.   Climbing back into the car, he started the engine. “OK, pal. Remember. Keep your mouth shut and nobody gets into trouble. That’s the way it is. Welcome to the world.” With that, he drove off.

 

My mother was waiting for me at the door. “Where have you been?” she said, a note of anger in her voice. “I was getting worried.”

 

“Sorry,” I muttered.

 

My answer only made her angrier. “Sorry?   You were supposed to be home two hours ago. You didn’t call. Then you come strolling through the door without a word of explanation. I…” She paused as she searched my face. Her mother’s instinct took over.

“Bart, what’s the matter? What happened?”

 

“I…I…” I started, fighting back tears.

 

“What? Tell me!”

 

“I can’t,” I said at last. “I can’t talk right now.” Before she could say anything, I ran to my room and closed the door. I skipped dinner,

 

By morning I had composed myself enough to face the world. My mother was in the kitchen. She eyed me with concern as I took a bowl from the cupboard and fixed a bowl of cornflakes. I avoided her eyes.

 

“Bart? What on earth is the matter?”

 

I had prepared for this. Having had all night to sort things out, I was ready with a story that sounded convincing.

 

“Nothing,” I said.   “I was upset last night because me and Judy had a big fight. She told me she never wanted to see me again.”

 

Judy was my steady girlfriend. We had been going together for almost six months. My mother liked Judy very much.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe you can work it out.”

 

“I hope so,” I said.   I poured some milk over the corn flakes, spooned sugar on it, and ate. Putting the bowl in the sink, I headed for the door. “I’m going over there now,” I said. “I’ll do the chores when I get home, I promise.”

 

My mother started to protest, but seeing the determination in my eyes she smiled and shrugged. “Don’t be long. And good luck.”

 

Of course I would have to tell Judy the truth. Having used her as an excuse for my state of mind, I had no choice but to tell her so that she would go along with my cover story.

 

Judy was horrified.   “Rick killed a man?” she said.   “How terrible. Why didn’t you…”

 

“What could I do?”   I shouted. “I didn’t even know he had a gun. Hey, Judy, I didn’t want to go with him in the first place. But you know Rick. Nobody says ‘no’ to him. Least of all, not me.”

 

“You have to tell the police,” she said.

 

“I can’t.   Rick says I’m as guilty as he is.”   I swallowed hard at the thought of going to prison. I didn’t know if Rick was right or wrong about my being an accessory, but accepted his opinion. He was far more worldly than I, and had almost certainly been in trouble with the law before.

“Bart,” Judy said, watching me with troubled eyes.   “You have to go to the police.   It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing.” She reached out and patted my hand. “If you go now and tell them the truth, they’ll understand.   You weren’t a part of it. You didn’t even know it was going to happen until it was over.”

 

She was right, I knew. Still, Rick’s threat hung over me. Somehow he would see to it that I shared in the crime. People like Rick don’t accept responsibility for their actions. They find ways to get others involved, and I certainly was the most obvious person to share the blame for the clerk’s death.

 

“I know. I know,” I said. “God, how I hate Rick Houston.”

 

“I’ll go to the police with you,” Judy said.

 

“No,” I said quickly. “You stay out of it. No sense both of us getting involved in this.”

 

“You will go?” she said.

 

“I said I would,” I snapped. Then, realizing what I had done, I took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll go. But I need a little time.”

 

“No,” she said.   “You have to go today. Now. You can’t wait.”

 

I nodded absently, kissed her on the cheek, and left.

 

Rick was furious.   “You told Judy?” he shouted. “What the hell’s the matter with you, pal?”

 

“I had to,” I said.   “I had to tell somebody.

 

Rick was pacing up and down, cursing. “Jeez, I can’t believe you could be so stupid.” He stopped pacing and glared at me, his eyes bright with anger. “What the hell…”

 

“Hey, Rick,” I said.   “She won’t tell anybody.”

 

“The hell she won’t,” Rick said. “She wants you to go to the cops, don’t she?”

 

I nodded.

 

“And if you don’t, she will. You can bet on that.”

 

“I…I don’t know.”

 

Rick snorted.   “You don’t know. Well, I do.” He started pacing again. “We gotta do something about this.”

 

“What?” I asked, concern edging my voice.

 

Rick stared at me with a look that sent chills down my spine. “What do you think?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Forget it.   Leave it to me. I’ll handle this.”

 

“What are you going to do? For God’s sake, Rick what are you going to do?”

 

He didn’t answer.   Horror gripped my throat as the impact of what he had said hit me. He was going to kill her! I had witnessed the cold-blooded way in which he had shot the clerk at the liquor store.   He was capable of doing the same with Judy.

 

“No!” I said. “You can’t do this. You can’t…”

 

Rick whirled and swung hard, landing a fist on my chin. I went down in a flash of pain and rolled over. Rick leaned down and held out his hand. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean it. I’m just so pissed off about all this that I lost control.” He patted my shoulder. “No hard feelings?”

 

I rubbed my chin gently. “Rick, you can’t do this.”

 

“Sure, pal,” he said. “You’re right.”

 

The way he said it scared me. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe him at all.

 

“Let’s talk about this, Rick.”

 

Rick snorted.   “There’s nothing to talk about.   What’s done is done. We just have to deal with it.”

 

“Well,” I said, trying desperately to think of something that would change his mind.   “Let’s go somewhere away from here.   I…I have to get away.”

 

Rick studied my face with a look of disdain. He hated weakness, I knew. And I was weak. I could never measure up to his expectations even if I wanted to. Finally, he looked away. “OK.”

 

While I sat sullenly silent in the car, Rick drove out of town to the hills overlooking the reservoir. It was dark, with a waning moon rising slowly over the mountain. A cool breeze swept through the trees. Under any other circumstances I would have enjoyed the ride and the view from the hilltop. But tonight all I could think of was a murdered man and an innocent girl who was in danger. I felt helpless, impotent in the face of a horror unfolding before me.

 

Rick was no longer a schoolmate, a companion. He was a killer, a dangerous young man who was as desperate as I, even though he didn’t show it. I had never wanted to be his “companion” anyway. I never felt so desperately alone in my life. And now, alone with Rick miles from help, I should have felt fear for my life. Strangely, I didn’t.

 

We walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the reservoir. Rick picked up a stone and threw it over the edge. A few seconds later the plunk reached our ears. In the crisp night air it sounded loud and ominous.

 

“Rick,” I said.   “Don’t do anything to hurt Judy,” I said.

 

Silence. In the soft light of the moon I studied his face.   It was a passive, cold look that sent chills down my spine.

 

“Rick? Do you hear me?”

 

Finally he nodded.   “Sure, pal. I hear you.”

 

“Well?”

 

“Things will work out,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. I hate this place.”

 

“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll walk.”

 

Rick grabbed me by the arm. “It’s five miles to town. Don’t be a jerk.”

 

“Leave me alone,” I said.

 

Rick gripped my arm harder. “Get in the car.”

 

“No.”

 

I had never stood up to Rick before. His hard black eyes studied me for a minute.

 

“Listen, pal.   You better not do anything stupid.”

 

“I need to be alone.   I’ll walk home. I’ve done it before.” I met his eyes. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. I knew what Rick was capable of doing, and up here where there was no one to see or hear us, I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. The way I felt at the moment, it didn’t matter to me.

 

We stared at each other for several seconds. Then Rick released my arm.

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled. He turned and walked away. I watched Rick’s retreating form with a growing rage. At that moment I felt a hate I had never felt for anyone before or since.

 

It was after midnight when I got home. The walk from the reservoir took close to two hours, and I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I closed the door softly and went to my room, careful not to wake my parents. I fell on the bed, fully clothed, and drifted into a troubled sleep.

 

As it turned out, there was a witness to the killing. A woman who lived nearby, out walking her dog, had seen Rick running from the station and getting into the car. She gave a good description of the car with its flaming decal and chrome pipes.   Her description of Rick was less accurate. But the car was sufficient evidence to lead the police to Rick. Thankfully, she did not mention a passenger. I was never suspected.

 

Rick never returned home the night we went to the reservoir. His disappearance created a stir in Oakville.   They had a murderer in town, a fugitive. In a strange sort of way, the residents enjoyed the notoriety.   The local papers picked up the story and gave it prominent coverage. The Jackson Tribune printed an interview with Rick’s mother, playing on the public’s fascination with the case.

 

“He’s run off before,” she told reporters.

 

“Where would he go?”
“No place in particular.   ‘Specially if he’s runnin’ from the law.”

 

“Are you surprised by this?”

 

“It don’t surprise me that he did this thing. He’s a bad one. Always has been. Just like his father. I brought him out here to the country hopin’ it would change him. But a leopard don’t change its spots, I guess.”

 

Mrs. Houston didn’t seem sorry that Rick was gone.

I never went to the police. Now that it was known who killed the clerk, I felt no need to go. Judy agreed. I loved her for that.

 

They never found Rick. Eventually, life returned to normal in Oakville. For me, however, life was never the same. Being a witness to murder and knowing things that no one else knew about Rick and his plan to kill Judy scarred me forever. Shortly after graduation I left Oakville, not because I wanted to, but because I could never live a normal life there in light of the situation.

 

I received the phone call about Rick from Judy. She had married a local boy, raised a family, and was still living in Oakville. Now a widow, she kept in touch by

e-mail and an occasional phone call.

 

“They found Rick Houston,” she said without preamble when I answered the phone.

 

I swallowed hard at the pronouncement. “They did?   When? Where?”

 

“Yesterday,” she said. Silence.

 

“Oh?   How?”

 

“You know the reservoir?” she asked.   It was not a question, but a statement.   Everyone who ever lived in Oakville knew where the reservoir was. “The dam was cracked. They condemned it last month. They had to drain the reservoir.”

 

I waited for her to go on. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she said, “Bart?”

 

“What?”

 

“You knew about this, didn’t you?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

There was an edge to her voice. “You were with Rick the night he disappeared. You told me that, remember?”

 

“So?”

 

She sighed.   “They found a car at the bottom of the lake. It was just off the south rim—the deepest part of the lake. Over eighty feet deep, I guess.”

 

I thought back.   The cliff overlooking the lake was primarily rock. No tire marks would be left. And it sloped downward, making it easy to push the car over the edge.

 

“It was rusted almost beyond recognition,” Judy was saying. “But enough remained to identify it as Rick’s car. They could tell the make and year. And there was even a trace of a decal on one of the doors.”

 

“That’s interesting,” I said. “But what about Rick? You said they found him.”

 

“They did.   There were partial remains of a skeleton. They found a skull.” Another pause. “They could tell from the condition of the skull that he had been hit with a blunt object, heavy enough to kill him.”

 

Like a tree limb, I thought. There was no shortage of them at the reservoir.

“So he was murdered?” I said.

 

“Bart.” Judy said, “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Ever since the night Rick disappeared you were a different person. I thought it was because of your being involved with the murder of the clerk. I never suspected you had anything to do with Rick’s disappearance.”

 

“And now you do?”   I asked.

 

“Yes. I do. And I know why. You had no choice, at least in your mind. You were afraid he would try to kill me…”

 

“No,” I interrupted.   “I knew he was going to kill you.   He almost said as much. I couldn’t let that happen, Judy. Don’t you understand?”

 

“I understand, Bart.   Of course I understand. And I’m grateful. But…” Her voice trailed off.

 

“But what?”

 

“There had to be another way.”

 

“Maybe,” I said.   “Maybe.” I listened to the sound of her breathing and felt a surge of love for the girl I used to adore.

 

“God, this is so hard for me,” she said. “I never dreamed you were capable of murder.”

 

“Desperate people do desperate things,” I said.

 

There was a long silence, broken by a muffled sob on the other end of the line.

 

“What are you going to do, Judy?” I said.

 

“Do?” she said. “There’s nothing to be done. Not now.   It all happened so long ago. What possible good could it do to resurrect it now?”

 

“Right,” I said.   “I’m just sorry it had to happen.”

 

“Bart?’

 

“Yes?”

 

“Believe me when I tell you that I am not judging you. I can’t begin to understand what you were going through. I just find this so difficult.”

 

“I know,” I said.   “Forgive me.”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive. I called because I wanted you to hear it from me. Before you read about it in the paper. And I wanted you to know, too, that your secret is safe. I think I’m the only one who knows what really happened that night.”

 

“I’m coming to Oakville in a few weeks,” I said. “I’d like to see you. Will you be home?”

 

There was a long pause.   “I don’t think it would be a good idea. Let’s remember things the way they were, Bart. I loved you once. I guess I still do. But things can never be the same. Not after all this.”

 

I started to protest, then sighed. “OK.   OK. Thanks for calling.”

 

I hung up, a feeling of melancholy spreading over me. The police could close the book on Rick’s disappearance. But now they had another murder on their hands. They would have to investigate, I was certain of that. But I wasn’t certain how vigorously they would pursue it given the amount of time that had elapsed and the nature of the victim. It didn’t really matter to me. Because of it I had lost a girl, a home and a way of life I had treasured.   Let the police investigate. I suddenly realized that I wanted the truth to come out. It had consumed me for most of my life. Now I could have closure.

 

I reached for the phone. Obtaining the number from information, I dialed and waited.

 

“Oakville Police, Sergeant Madison,” a voice growled over the wire.

 

“My name is Barton Howell,” I said. “I killed Rick Houston.”

The End

Tiger Gold Medal by James C. Clar

Ben Apana sat at his desk absent-mindedly playing with a small plastic evidence bag. Inside was an orange-colored beer coaster featuring the black-ink figure of a tiger standing beneath a stylized palm tree. It hadn’t taken Ben long to discover that the coaster bore the logo of a cheap beer made in Singapore called Tiger Gold Medal. A few of his buddies in the department had told him that the stuff tasted, rightly enough, like tiger piss. Ben could neither confirm nor deny their allegation. True, his grandparents were still into some of that weird traditional Chinese medicine. Nevertheless, he’d never tasted tiger piss. Nor was he a beer drinker.

 

It had been five months since Ben’s promotion to detective and things were not going quite as well as he had hoped. He had three unsolved homicides, the latest being a Jane Doe whose body had been found near one of the canals that drained the Ali Wai out where Kapiolani Boulevard and Kaimuki Avenue ran into one another. It was not the kind of thing that the Visitor’s Bureau liked to see; a woman with her head bashed in a mere ten or fifteen minute walk from Waikiki. Tunes about the flip-side of “paradise” were not ones that anyone wanted to sing. There wasn’t a shred of helpful forensic evidence. Blunt force trauma was about all that the M.E. could tell them. Like they really needed some expert for that! The lab reports also stated that the woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, hadn’t been sexually assaulted. There was no identification on the body. Neither were her fingerprints in any of the databases. In back pocket of her blue-jeans, however, they did find the aforementioned beer coaster. It was not much by way of evidence, thought Ben, but you worked with what you had.

 

Ben was waiting for a fax. He had called around to all the beer and liquor distributors on the island and asked for a listing of any bars, hotels, restaurants or grocery stores that sold Tiger Gold Medal. It was a long shot, but, what the hell else could he do? All the high-tech equipment and complicated science at their disposal and all they had to go on was a friggin’ beer coaster. Son-of-a-bitch! A routine canvas of the area around where the body had been found turned up nothing. Maybe once they had an I.D. they’d be able to get somewhere. While he was waiting, he heard the theme from Hawaii-Five-O. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone.

 

Not recognizing the number on the display, there was more than a hint of impatience and even aggression in his voice, “Apana,” he barked.

 

“Hey, Ben, is that you? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

 

It took him a few seconds before he placed the voice. It was Jack Feeney. It was Feeney’s retirement that had cleared the way for Ben’s promotion. The two men weren’t especially close but the older man had stayed on for a few weeks in order to show Ben the ropes and to help him tie up the loose ends on a couple of old cases before he left for good. Feeney had been a good detective in his day but the years had taken their toll. Rumor had it that, a few years back, he had married a younger woman who had a real wild streak. Trouble on the domestic front and pressure at work meant that Jack had seen the bottom of the bottle a few times too many.

 

“Jack, it’s good to hear from you. Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice. What can I do for you?”

 

“Truth is I’m going crazy sitting around here doing nothing. This retirement thing is not all that it’s cracked up to be.”

 

“Shit, Jack, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Ben responded. “You mean there aren’t enough golf courses on this rock to keep you occupied? Or enough bikini-clad woman for a dirty old man like you to ogle down at the beach? Listen, I’d trade places with you in an eye blink. I have three unsolved homicides sitting on my desk as we speak. I think that’s a record.”

 

“Listen, I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you. I was thinking that maybe, one of these days, we might get together for a drink or something. Maybe talk a little shop. You never know, I might be able to help you out on one of your cases. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to look at things from a slightly different perspective.”

 

Damn, Ben thought, I haven’t got time for this. “Well, I can’t make any promises, Jack. You of all people know how that goes. But if I have some time, sure, it’d be great to get together. I have your number. We’ll see how it plays out.”

 

“Thanks, Ben. Don’t get discouraged. Sometimes these cases just come together sort of on their own. Other times, well, you’ve been around long enough to know that you can’t win them all. Hey, I’ll give you my address. If you’re ever in the neighborhood, just drop in.”

 

Ben wrote down the address in his notebook. It was a small street running off Campbell Avenue. As he closed his phone, he heard the fax machine behind him start to transmit. He went over and, somewhat surprised, pulled a lone sheet from the tray. He looked the list over and thought “this is either a blessing or a curse.” There were only eight names on the paper, five bars and three grocery stores that either served or sold Tiger Gold Medal Beer on Oahu. Amazingly, they were all clustered along Kuhio Avenue in Waikiki. Ben figured he could hit all of the places, at least initially, that afternoon. He picked up a picture of his Jane Doe, shrugged into his linen sport coat, grabbed his holster and headed out.

 

 

He parked on Olohana Street and made his way on foot up to Kuhio. He traveled east, toward Diamond Head. The early afternoon sun was ferociously hot. Down one and up the other side of the broad avenue, he had covered five of the eight locations on his list and, after nearly ninety minutes, all he had to show for it were some fresh stains on his shirt under his armpits. He turned right, down the ass-end of Lewers Street. He was heading for a little place called the Red Chamber Bar located on the ground floor of the Waikiki Joy Hotel between Kuhio and Ali Wai Boulevard. It was tucked just back from the street. The hotel itself had been built in the late ‘50’s or early 60’s. It hadn’t gone completely to seed yet, but it had certainly started to wither.

 

The bar occupied a fairly spacious area that looked out on the tiny pool that served the hotel guests. As his eyes adjusted to the dimply lit interior, he noticed a small stage to the left of the door and a lengthy bar off to his right. Red leather and traditional Chinese artwork clashed with Mexican sombreros and potted cacti. Clearly the establishment had seen a number of different owners over the years, each with a different idea as to décor and theme. The only occupants were the Hawaiian bartender and a couple of middle-aged, hard-throwers about three-quarters of the way through a liquid lunch.

 

Ben took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of iced tea. When his drink came, he opened his wallet to reveal his badge. Once he had the bartender’s attention, he placed the picture of his Jane Doe face-up on top of his shield. “Do you recognize the lady in this picture?”

 

“Sure,” the bartender answered immediately, “that’s Rita. But, man, she’s actually pretty good looking for a woman her age. She looks like shit in that picture.”

 

“Yeah, well, she’d dead in that picture, ‘bruddah. How good do you expect her to look?”

 

The bartender’s face registered genuine surprise.

 

“Listen, officer,” the bartender stammered. “I didn’t know. It’s not every day I get cops in her showing me pictures of dead customers for Christ’s sake.”

 

Unfazed, Ben continued. “Does this ‘Rita’ have a last name, by any chance?”

 

“Not that I’ve ever heard anyone use. She comes in here once, maybe, twice a week. Never any trouble. A good tipper; most of the time she just sits and reads. It’s never too long before guys start hitting on her. Come to think of it, though, she hasn’t been in this week. I guess now I know why.”

 

“Do you remember if she was in here last Thursday?”

 

“I worked that night. Let me think,” the bartender said as he wiped the bar down with a damp towel. “I’m pretty sure that she was. I remember now because she seemed kind of down-in-the-dumps abut something. I was busy, though, and never really had a chance to talk to her.”

 

“Listen,” Ben said, getting up. “If you think of anything else, give me a call. Here’s my card. By the way, did Rita leave with anyone that night?”

 

“Mister, like I said, at one point or another, and as quiet as she was, Rita basically left with everyone. But, no, I don’t recall that she was with anyone in particular that night. At least not that I saw, anyhow.”

 

With that Ben turned and walked out. He had hoped for more but at least now he had a name. That’s more than he had two hours ago. He’d be back when the bar was more crowded. Maybe someone had seen or heard something helpful.

 

Back on Kuhio he spent another thirty minutes or so checking the final two places on his list. No one recognized the woman that he now knew as ‘Rita’. Calling it quits he walked back to his car. Predictably, it was an oven inside. Taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the passenger seat, he opened the windows and turned the air conditioning on full blast. He pulled away from the curb. Turning around he back-tracked on Olohana and, at the corner of Kalakaua, turned left. Fighting the traffic, including hoards of distracted and sunburned tourists crossing the street, he drove toward Kapahulu Avenue where he made another left. Before he even realized what he was doing he was on Campbell Avenue. A few moments later he was parked in front of a little place on Esther Street. He got out of his car. Somewhere in the otherwise quiet, well-tended neighborhood a dog barked. He could see the sere sides of Diamond Head off in the distance. The landmark shimmered in the sunlight as he walked up to the door of the house. The small banana trees that grew in the yard gave off a ripe, cloying scent. There didn’t seem to be a bell, so he knocked. Before long he heard footsteps. The door opened to reveal a balding, powerfully built man in his late fifties.

 

“Ben! Man, what a surprise,” Jack Feeney blurted. “In all honesty, I figured that I’d never hear back from you. C’mon in. It’s great to see you.”

 

Ben entered the house. It was dark and cool inside. Instead of the pizza boxes, beer cans and overflowing ashtrays he expected, the place was neat and tidy.

 

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Feeney asked as he ushered Ben into the living room.

 

“You know, Jack, I’ve been pounding the pavement all afternoon. I would have a soda or some iced tea if you have it.”

 

“No problem, my friend, coming right up.”

 

Feeney headed for the kitchen. While he waited, Ben looked around the room where he sat. What struck him most, apart from the absence of photographs, were the shelves of books that lined the far wall. He’d never have taken Jack for a reader. Feeney returned in about two minutes. He had a Scotch in one hand and a tall, icy glass of cola in the other. He set his own glass down first. Before giving Ben his drink, the older man opened the drawer of an end table and extracted a coaster. He placed the coaster at his guest’s elbow and set the condensation-covered glass down on top. Damp as the cardboard circle had become from his soda glass, Ben still recognized the by-now familiar image of the black-ink tiger and palm tree. His eyes traveled up to meet those of his host.

 

“Jack, tell me, what’s your wife’s name?”

 

Feeney hesitated a moment too long. He must have sensed something in Ben’s tone. “It’s ‘Rita’,” he responded. “Why do you ask?”

The End

Dead Wrong by Shirley McCann

“I know this comes as quite a shock, Andrew, but it’s really the most sane decision I’ve made in a long time. Jill spends most of her time here now. What could be more natural than me marrying my live-in nurse?”

 

Andrew Wallace remained seated across from his ninety-seven-year-old uncle, too stunned to utter a word. Jill’s services were recommended when Harry had slipped on his front porch and suffered a broken hip. While Andrew had no doubt that Jill was a caring, compassionate nurse, marriage was the last thing he expected to hear.

 

Andrew tried to keep his feelings in check, even though he was dying to ask his uncle about plans for distribution of his substantial wealth upon his death.

 

Harry spared him the trouble. “Naturally, I’ll want to change my will.” He pulled his new young wife closer in a disgusting embrace. “I want to make sure Jill is comfortable and wanting for nothing when I’m no longer around.” He shot Andrew a pointed look. “I can count on you to take care of the legalities, can’t I?”

 

As Harry’s sole heir, Andrew had anticipated collecting huge rewards when the old man died.   Now he would either be left with nothing or have to share it with a bimbo.

 

 

“Of course I’ll take care of it, Uncle Harry.” Andrew spoke the words freely, hoping his uncle couldn’t see the rage that was burning a hole in his chest. If Uncle Harry thought he would stand by and watch his whole future crumble, he had another thing coming.

 

The next day at his meager law office, Andrew played the part of dutiful nephew and made the requested changes to his uncle’s will. He was now left with a mere pittance compared to what Jill stood to inherit upon the old man’s demise. That’s when Andrew decided to take matters into his own hands.

 

As an attorney, Andrew knew that if Jill were convicted of murdering her new husband, she would be unable to inherit anything. And Andrew would be rich.

 

After spending the next few days researching which poison to use to quickly dispose of his uncle, Andrew received a distressing phone call from Jill.   “Harry’s taken a turn for the worse.”   Jill’s tear-filled voice cracked with emotion. “You’d better come right away.”

 

Fear escalated Andrew’s pulse. If Uncle Harry died of natural causes before Andrew had a chance to administer the poison and frame Jill, his plan would be foiled. He’d have to act fast and make do with whatever was at his disposal.

 

At the house, Jill met Andrew at the door, dabbing a dainty handkerchief over heavily decorated eyes. “He’s napping comfortably now,” she said in a shaky voice. “But the doctor says it’s just a matter of time. I’ll give you two a few minutes alone.”

 

Upstairs, Andrew noticed the ashen face of his uncle and realized he didn’t have much time. Spying Jill’s nursing bag beside the bed, he donned a pair of thin white gloves and rummaged through the bag. A vial of insulin caught his attention. During his research, he’d learned that injecting insulin to a non-diabetic could cause a fatal reaction. He smiled, realizing he’d found the perfect poison. Since Jill was a diabetic and carried the insulin in her bag, she would be the logical suspect.

 

 

Carefully, he injected the insulin into his uncle’s arm. He stashed the glove and the empty container into his jacket pocket just seconds before Jill entered the room with Harry’s family doctor.

 

“I can’t believe we didn’t have more time together,” Jill cried. “I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

 

Andrew decided to set the stage for Jill’s impending arrest. “This is all your fault,” he shouted at Jill. “Other than a broken hip, Uncle Harry was in perfect health until you came along.”

 

Jill’s mouth dropped. Tears flooded her eyes, causing streaks of mascara to drip down her heavily made-up face.   “I can’t believe you could say those things to me. I love your uncle.”

 

Andrew felt bad. He didn’t really believe Jill would do anything to harm Harry, but he needed to warrant an autopsy after Harry’s demise. Besides, he had no intention of feeling badly once Jill was behind bars and he was spending all that money by himself.

 

Finally, Harry gasped his final breath. The doctor turned to Jill, his face solemn. “I’m sorry, dear,” he said. “Harry’s gone.”

 

While Jill sobbed, Andrew made his move. “Murderer!” he screamed at Jill. “I demand an autopsy,” he said to the doctor. “Just days after my uncle marries this bimbo and changes his will, he dies in his sleep? How convenient for his new rich bride!”

 

“No!” Jill objected, surprising Andrew. “I won’t have him mutilated like that.”

 

For a moment Andrew thought Jill might truly have loved the old coot.

 

Two days later, Andrew was summoned to police headquarters. Jill occupied a seat at a scarred wooden desk, her face pale.   Andrew accepted the seat beside her.

“You were right, Andrew,” a burly officer, whose name badge identified him as Lieutenant Rollins, said. “According to the autopsy report, your uncle was poisoned. Jill has already confessed.”

 

 

Andrew’s mouth dropped at the startling announcement. So Uncle Harry’s new, young wife was trying to kill him, after all.   Andrew couldn’t believe his luck.

 

Bolting from his seat, he slammed his hand on the desk in a mock rage. “I knew it!” he shouted. “Who else but a diabetic would have access to insulin?”

 

Officer Rollins folded his arms across the desk and smiled. “There is one problem, Mr. Wallace. Jill didn’t kill Harry.”

 

Andrew’s pulse quickened. “But you said¼”

 

“I said she confessed to poisoning your uncle. Jill has admitted to administering small doses of arsenic to help speed the process along.”

 

Andrew furrowed his brows. “So?”

 

“But it wasn’t the arsenic that killed him. It was a lethal dose of insulin that finally did him in.”

 

Lieutenant Rollins grinned. “The only way you could have known that Harry died of insulin poisoning was if you had administered it yourself.”

The End

Dark Alley by Anand Sairam Rainman

Ravin always used dark alleys when he had to take home a huge bribe. He thought he was less conspicuous in dark unlit sub lanes.

 

He would never receive it in his office, but book three rooms in a hotel on the outskirts of the city in three different names, cancel two at the last moment so as to confuse the anti-corruption officials if they were following him and finally get the bribe in the car park or lift, or in the rest room of a restaurant in the hotel.

Everything went smoothly and the contractor paid him the money in a large suitcase as a favour for approving the bills that did not state the actual costs. The contractor, dressed in a tight blue suit that accentuated his huge belly, invited him for a party and hinted there was a beautiful call girl with an AIDS free certificate waiting for him. Ravin refused; got into the car he rented, removed his wig and glasses, and cleared away from the hotel like a murderer running away from the crime scene.

The night was cool and he whistled a tune while he sped down the smooth roads of suburban Chennai, a large city in the southern part of India. Jenny would be unaware of the bribe money; he never discussed bribes with her. He’d buy her a diamond ring and deposit the remaining amount in a foreign bank in his secret account.

He entered a dark alley, and while he was half way through it, he suddenly felt he was losing control of his vehicle. It slowed down and stopped with a gurgling noise.

“Shit”

He opened the door, and just as he was about to get down the car, he saw the dog. It had sores all over its body, and with a ferocious look, it barked at him.

Ravin retreated inside the car and slammed the door shut. The dog came near the car, sniffed and barked again. More dogs materialized from the darkness. They gathered around the car and as they came closer, Ravin could see that almost all of them had bloody wounds on their bodies.

Ravin realized the reason for the sudden increase in the population of the stray dogs. The Government had issued orders not to kill the stray dogs. Instead the female dogs should be caught, a doctor should do a birth control operation on them and then they should be left free in the streets again. The corporation workers would have found the process very tedious and simply left the dogs to populate.

“No doubt they have rabies,” Ravin said as he sat frozen inside the car.

The man at the rental had cheated him. Ravin was so preoccupied with the bribe money; he didn’t notice the condition of the car. Now he couldn’t contact the rental, or a mechanic, as he never carried a cell phone when he went out to get a bribe.

Ravin counted twenty dogs. Three or four dogs sat before the car, blocking his path, and the others watched the car intently with venomous looks. One dog looked up into the dark sky and howled like a wolf.

Ravin waited. If someone came by, he would ask for help. But, with a sinking feeling, he realized that no one would use this alley at night, fearing robbery.

He switched the headlights on and off so that someone in the buildings surrounding the alley might notice and come for help. But nothing happened.

Ten minutes later, he saw a homeless guy walking in his direction. He was lean, wore a dirty pullover and shorts. The dogs did not react, and behaved as if he were one of them. Ravin noticed that some of them even wagged their tails.

The homeless guy jumped over a dog, came near the car, and tapped on the window. Ravin rolled down the window, and the homeless guy asked, “What happened?”

“I got stuck. Some problems in the car, the bloody dogs won’t let me to get out to find what the problem is.”

The guy laughed and said, “You’re trapped.”

“Yeah, I need your help.”

The guy screwed up his face and looked at him questioningly. Ravin continued, “I’ll give you money. You go and get some food and a fetch a taxi. I’ll throw the food at the dogs to distract them, then I’ll get into the taxi and drive away.”

The guy raised his voice, “What about me? You can’t just leave me here.”

“I’ll give you money or else you can come with me to my home. I’ll give you food, new clothing, and help you find a job.”

“You didn’t tell this at first.”

“Sorry. I’m confused, and I’m tense.”

”Okay, call me Sami. I live in this street.”

Two of the dogs got into fight and tried to bite each other. Their barking reached a crescendo and Sami turned his attention to them and shouted, “Come on, boys. Stop your fight.”

Ravin unzipped a large suitcase he kept by his side, pulled out a bundle of money, and showed it to Sami. “You can have this if you chase the dogs away and help me to find a taxi.”

He looked at the money without interest. “I don’t need that much money. I live a very simple life and wouldn’t know how to stop thieves and burglars from killing me to get it.”

Ravin was losing his patience. “Come on, tell me, what exactly do you want?”

“I need nothing. But I plan to help you without getting anything from you. It’s a one way deal.”

Ravin was happy. “Come on, chase away the dogs.”

Sami sat on the hood of the car and looked at him through the windscreen.

“No, no. You should ask first.”

Ravin was confused. “Hey! I asked you.”

“Ask in a proper way”

“Proper way?’

“Beg, beg, you foolish rich man.”

“Beg?”

“Don’t you know how to beg?”

“No. I never begged in my life.”

“Then learn to beg. Fold your hands across your chest, lower your head and ask what you want.”

Ravin thought for a moment. What was he going to lose by begging to this fool? If he refused, he’d have to wait here until dawn.

Ravin folded his hands across his chest, lowered his head and said, “Go and get a taxi.”

“Don’t you know manners? Don’t you use the word ‘please’?

“Please go and get a taxi.”

“I need a sir.”

“Sir, please go and get a taxi.”

Sami hit the windscreen with his hand and shouted. “I want expression, more expression. Your face looks stone hard. Nobody will help you if you beg like this.”

Ravin softened his face muscle a little and said, “Please go and get a taxi, sir.”

“Correct, you’re onto the exact begging. Okay, I’ll consider your request and decide if I want to help you.”

Ravin uncrossed his hands and looked at Sami expectantly.

Sami though for a moment and said, “You should fill your heart with love, get down from the car, approach the dogs with all your body language showing love, love, love and nothing else. Look at them with pleasing eyes and gently ruffle their furs and all the dogs will be your friends. Then you can walk from this place freely without needing help from anyone.”

Ravin cringed at the thought. “No. I won’t risk my life.”

Sami laughed and said, “I want to repeat what the guy at the rehabilitation centre said to me. Face things in life. Don’t ever try to run away from them.”

Ravin wasn’t convinced. He closed the window and said, “Okay. I don’t need your help. I’ll stay here until dawn.”

Sami drummed on the windscreen with his fingers and climbed to the top of the car. Ravin became restless. This guy is dangerous, he thought. The car began to shake and he heard ‘thud,’ ‘thud’ sounds from the roof of the car. The bastard is dancing. Ravin opened the window an inch and heard Sami singing in a harsh voice.

Ravin switched on and off the car lights again and pressed the horn. It blared continuously, breaking the stillness of the night and making the dogs bark. It was ghastly; the flashing light, the nerve chilling shrilly horn, the deafening sound of bark, and the song in a harsh voice.

The singing stopped and Sami called from the top.

“Can’t you let a man sing?”

“I need help. I want to escape from this hell of a place.”

“Show love to the dogs and escape.”

“No. I don’t have the nerve to do it.”

“You don’t know how to show love? You’re a moron, a robot, a machine.”

Ravin remained silent and Sami resumed his singing and dancing.

Ravin checked the time. It was 12:30, still five hours to kill. He heard a whistle sound and became attentive. A security guard was on prowl!! He flickered the car headlights on and off as he saw a man with a torchlight walking towards him. The dogs turned their attention to the security guard and barked. Ravin rolled down the window and shouted, “Help, help” The security guard stopped, assessed the situation, turned back and walked away.

He heard the Sami laughing from the top of the car.

“Nobody is going to help you.”

“No, he is going to get some help.”

“No, no. No security guard will admit his inability. He’ll simply walk away to a safer place.”

Ravin’s heart sunk. Yes, he was correct. Sami jumped down from the car top and lit a cigarette.

Holding the pack toward Ravin, he said, “Want a cigarette?”

Ravin said, “No.”

Sami asked, “You smoke only costly cigarettes?”

Ravin was irritated and said, “Yeah.”

“Try this one. It’ll be different.”

“No.”

He came to the window and puffed smoke in Ravin’s face.

“You forget the word, ‘thanks.’ I’m the boss here, know that?”

“Okay. No, thanks.”

“That’s sport,” He continued, “Do you know why I lit a cigarette? To show you I can light the car like I lit the cigarette. Don’t think you can sit safe inside the car and escape in the morning. ”

A shiver ran through Ravin’s body. “Please don’t do anything stupid. I want to live.”

“Then practice love. Come on, come out.”

Ravin moved to the door and opened it slightly.

“Be brave, come on.” Sami encouraged him.

Ravin opened the door further and a bunch of dogs readied themselves and ran towards the car at high speed. Ravin shut the door. “No, I can’t do it. The filthy dogs will bite me.”

“They won’t bite you if you love them.”

“How could I show my love to them? They won’t understand.”

“Express your love through your eyes and your whole body.”

“No. I don’t think I’ll do it.”

“Try again. Come on.”

“I’d be more confident if you stood near the car and controlled the dogs if they made a wrong move.”

“Okay.” He walked over to the car and stood near the door. Ravin opened the door and the dogs ran toward him. Sami raised his hands and stopped them. He said to the dogs, “He’s trying. Let’s give him a chance.”

Ravin moved towards the door, as Sami was standing with his back toward him. Never taking his eyes off the dogs, Ravin reached out and grabbed Sami’s shoulder. When Sami fell down, Ravin went for his neck, but he could only grab a hold of his pullover. While trying to pull him inside the car, Sami shouted, “Come on, dogs.” The dogs sprang at him like horses with warriors and Ravin made a final attempt, but the pullover tore, leaving Sami on the ground. Ravin shut the door; the dogs hit the car and fell down on Sami.

Sami got up and roamed around the car like a wounded animal. He looked inside the car and shouted, “So you planned to kill me. You, cunning rich man! You should be punished.” He punched the windscreen and the glass broke. He cried out in pain as he withdrew his hand, but his face showed a mad glee. He withdrew and walked into the darkness. Ravin waited, Sami didn’t come out, but the car shook and the glass in the door shredded to pieces as large stone hit the car. More stones followed, more glass broke, and Ravin had to sneak under the seat for cover.

The stone throwing stopped after a while and Ravin got out from his hiding place. He felt defenceless as all windows had broken and the dogs had shifted their positions closer to the car. One of the dogs got up on the hood and tried to poke its head inside.

Sami appeared before the car again.

“The dogs are waiting for my instructions. If I say ‘yes’, they’ll move inside and share the car with you.”

“No, please don’t do that.”

“Then come out.”

“Then tell the dogs not to bite me.”

“You come out. You have no choice.”

Ravin opened the door, hesitatingly put his feet on the ground, got out, and stood near the car.

“Come on, walk”

He walked and the dogs followed him.

“Freeze.”

He stood still.

The dogs sniffed him, licked his feet and one of the dogs put its paws on his back and tried to climb him.

Sami said, “Move.”

Ravin slowly began to walk.

“Sit.”

Ravin hesitated and stood still.

“Sit down or the dogs will bite you.”

He sat on the ground. The dogs moved around him in a circle.

“Now put your hands on the ground and move like a dog.”

Ravin placed his hands on the ground and inched forward like a dog.

“Now, wag your tail.”

Ravin shook his butt.

“Correct. Now bark.”

Ravin barked.

“Now lie down on the ground and sleep.”

Ravin lay down on the ground. The dogs sat near him and he noticed two or three dogs wagging their tails.

Sami walked to his side. “The dogs won’t bite you. You can sleep now.”

Ravin tried not to sleep, but as all the problems had subsided, his reflexes returned to normal and he drifted into deep sleep.

He got up when he felt the heat of sunlight on his body. He checked the time and it was 6.30. He looked around and saw that the place looked different in the morning. Petty shops, godowns and small restaurants lined both sides of the street and people, not dogs, were walking around; they were mostly workers going to the factories for the morning shift. The pickpockets, small thieves, drunkards and bad elements hovered around the street in search of victims. The filthy dogs had retreated to their hiding place.

Sami walked toward him, carrying a glass of steaming coffee in his hand.

“Drink this. The game is over and you’re safe now.”

Ravin took the glass and threw it at Sami’s face.

“How dare you do such a thing to me? Do you think I’m such a fool?”

Sami covered his face with his hands and cried out in pain.

Ravin gave Sami a hard punch in his stomach that made him stagger and fall down on the ground. Ravin spit on his face, kicked his body and Sami rolled over. Some of the pedestrians stopped and watched their fight.

Ravin pulled him up from the ground and slapped him hard on the face.

“Don’t ever try to play your silly game on anyone again?”

He pushed him hard and Sami fell on the ground again. Ravin walked to his car and picked up his suitcase. He marched jauntily towards the main road.

Sami got up and shouted at Ravin. “Hey, rich man. You’re still unsafe. Don’t think the coast is clear.”

Ravin stopped and turned. “If you set the dogs on me, I‘ll run inside any one of the buildings. Don’t make yourself a fool.” Ravin walked on.

Sami whistled and clapped his hands, and when it attracted the attention of some of the seedy looking guys in the street, he pointed at Ravin.

“Hey, guys. That man is a thief. He looted a bank and is carrying the money in his suitcase. Go and get your share.”

They looked uncertainly at Sami.

“Yes, he has a lot of money in that suitcase and it was stolen.”

One of the pedestrians made a move towards Ravin. Others joined him. Ravin started to run. The pedestrians chased him. Finally Ravin was killed in the stampede, scramble and the mad fight for the money before he could reach the main road.

The End