Barry B. Longyear's
aTwitMystery Blackbird Tale
Copyrighted Material
| |
Barry B. Longyear's |
Archive |
|||
| A Hitman's Lot aTwitMystery Blackbird Tale Copyrighted Material |
2 |
||||
| Intro |
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
|
| 17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
Afterword |
|||||||||||||
 FOLLOW Current aTwitMystery Now Tweeting: "The Milk Run" by Barry B. Longyear A Blackbird Tale aTwitMystery Info: Goes to the Twit Mystery Page aTwitMystery Archive Index Where to find completed stories |
Insanity
as an investigative tool? Look into the Joe Torio Mysteries Trade Paperbacks Also available in Kindle format 
 |
 |
| Begin
at the bottom
and read to the top. That's TwitMystery |
Joe
Torio Mystery Novel Kindles only $.99@ |
|
| Bottom of page | THE END |
|
| ↑ Afterword |
It's a gentle coming of age story titled "Beat the Reaper," by Josh Bazell. 3 hours » She smiled. "I believe that's just what we need." She plugged her iPod into the car's sound system and we continued with our Audiobook. 3 hours » She glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. "No complications? she asked. "Client just wants to get rid of the guy and doesn't care how." 3 hours » I closed my cell and looked over at Bluebird in the passenger seat, still make up like Granny. "We have a clean sniper job in Vegas." 3 hours » "I know it's asking a lot after what you two--" "We'll do it," I interrupted. "You are a prince, Cloud. A veritable prince. Thank you." 3 hours » "Is the mark scumbag qualified?" I asked. "Let me put it this way," said Cloud, "This guy's so violent and reckless he scares the mob." 3 hours » "What is it?" I asked. Cloud paused a moment, then said, "It's in Las Vegas. On your way. Straight hit, client doesn't care how you do it." 3 hours » "I hate to impose after the past few days, but we have another job. If you can't handle it right now, I think I can someone else." 3 hours » Back in the car, the two bags of Sovereigns on the floor in back, we began our drive across the US back to home base. Then Cloud called. 3 hours » Out ex-client standing with one arm around Patricia Chang's shoulders and the other holding Mirabeth. "That's the other part," I whispered. 3 hours » Private conversation was at an end. A few minutes later the service started. In another moment Bluebird and I got to see what we came for. 3 hours » About then several members of the press arrived, some police officials, and members of the curious flower-bearing public. 3 hours » Patricia Chang had her arm around her daughter's shoulders and Mirabeth was leaning her head against her mother's side. "That's part of it." 3 hours » "Well, one thing sort of led to another," I responded lamely. He frowned. "I need a better answer than that. I nodded toward Mirabeth. 3 hours » "And all this doesn't even include dealing with Mirabeth's abductors and wiping out a major crime organization." He held out a hand, "Why?" 4 hours » "On top of that," he continued, "you take it upon yourselves to clean up the police department, without completely embarrassing the force." 4 hours » "I'm trying to understand," he began. "I run you out here on a fool's errand into a hornet's nest, I fire you, and you hand back my fee." 4 hours » "Something I can help you with, detective?" I asked. "Maybe," he said quietly, looking around to see no one could hear. 4 hours » After meeting Mirabeth's mother, more thank-yous, our ex-client stood there looking at us with a mixed expression on his face. 4 hours » Smart kid. She had sense enough not to scream out our names and come running. Sedate handshakes, hugs, and whispered thank-yous. 4 hours » Learned one thing: when she's in her eighties she is going to be hot. I was made up as her adult son, but Mirabeth recognized us both. 4 hours » We arrived early at Fairbanks Garden Cemetery for the memorial service for Mirabeth's father. Bluebird, in the wheelchair, looked very old. 4 hours » In any event, those periods of unconsciousness should be past. A visit to our room to clean and put on disguises, then out to get wheels. 4 hours » I have an adverse reaction to the blood pressure medication I had been taking. He handed me a bottle of pills (he doesn't do prescriptions). 4 hours » We went to the doctor Hammer arranged for us, and after patching up Bluebird's leg, he checked me, then checked my meds. 4 hours » Afterword. It was a race getting back in time, but I managed to get us to the city and without the hair-raising speeds Bluebird achieves. 4 hours |
Joe
Torio Mystery Kindles Only $.99@  |
↑ |
Bluebird got into the passenger seat and closed the door. "Hammer knows a guy," she said. 27 minutes » Once we hobbled away from the area, reaching the car, Bluebird smiled and applauded. "We need a hospital," I said. 28 minutes » "...Gold. lots of gold. Must've robbed Ft. Knox.. . . Shot them. Shot them all, I think . . . think ..." I dropped the phone on the asphalt. 30 minutes » I made a pretty good job of being a barely conscious man gasping for help at . . .I didn't know, but the miscreant's tag number is . . . 33 minutes » I looked among the towtruck driver's pockets, the truck's seat, and floor, eventually finding his cell phone. I called 911. 36 minutes » "About 160 thou," she estimated. "I took two for expenses." We'd better let the media know, too--just to keep the responding cops honest." 39 minutes » Oh still my beating heart. If he lives long enough to collect, someone owes that towtruck driver one hell of a reward. "Bag of Sovereigns?" 42 minutes » Guessing at 5 layers of bars, maybe 120 in a layer, roughly 40 bags of Sovereigns 500 a bag, we're talking sixteen, seventeen billion. 45 minutes » "I don't think I've ever before seen you speechless," she said. "How much is here?" I asked. "I didn't empty it and make a count," she said. 1 hour » Gold Sovereigns. Thousands of gold Sovereigns. I looked at Bluebird, then back at the gold, then back at Bluebird. 1 hour » After awhile, it registered, Bags and bags of something piled on a bed of gold bars. One of the bags was open and I took a look inside. 1 hour » He gimped around to the back, I joined her there, and she lifted the hatch, pulled a tarp aside, and stood back. I didn't know what it was. 1 hour » "Make him a hero?" she asked. "I did," I answered. She grinned. "He's a bigger hero than you think. I found out why the Hummer broke down." 1 hour » Very satisfied with the story, I was congratulating myself as I reached the house. Bluebird was leaning against the blue Hummer. 1 hour » He so panicked his abductors that one of them took to shooting his own men with a sniper rifle. Doe killed this one, then went unconscious. 1 hour » One of the abductors managed to flee into the woods and the intrepid Doe followed him and some others, killing several. 1 hour » Although severely concussed, Mr. Doe somehow managed to wrest a handgun from one of the miscreants, killing several, including the Dick. 1 hour » What a story. Towtruck driver John Doe, answering a break-down call, was knocked unconscious and abducted by rogue chief of detectives. 1 hour » Placing the very fine weapon in the body's hands, I squeezed off a round to get the GSR on his hands and face, then let it drop. 1 hour » I took Bluebird's sniper rifle, walked uphill into the woods until I found the last body I'd shot with the Anaconda. I wiped down the rifle. 1 hour » "Give me your rifle. I'll plant it on one of the bodies upslope. Let the scene reconstructors figure it out." My head was getting better. 1 hour » She smiled widely. "We're going to make a superhero out of this guy." As she placed the gun, she asked, "What about the rifle shots?" 1 hour » I gently nod. "That's even better." I shuffle over to them, and Bluebird the wrapped Anaconda, and said, "Pit it in his hand and fire it." 1 hour » Back outside, I notice Bluebird, her leg stuck out at a funny angle, kneeling over the towtruck driver. "He's still alive. Unconsciouss." 1 hour » Wrapping the handgun in the remainder of my tee shirt, I made an effort to stand. A little woozey, but no vomiting. All to the good. 1 hour » Wiping down my Anaconda, and the used and unused shells in the cylinder, I placed the reassembled gun in the chief's right hand, and again. 1 hour » As they say, it's not the crime that gets you in trouble; it's the cover-up. I thought about it for a moment, smiled, then crawled to Dick. 1 hour » I fall to my left, see Chief Dick against the far wall holding a shotgun aimed at the door. I fired twice as I fell, both hitting his chest. 2 hours » Kneeling beside his door, facing the wall, I know as sure as St. Jude is the patron of cops, junkies, and killers, this move will kill me. 2 hours » "What're you doin' out there you bastard! What's that noise!?" he yells. Wincing, I roll two of the strips and stuff my ears. 2 hours » That's the end of Rico. Outside the door the blood trail smears through, I lean against the wall, and begin tearing strips from my shirt. 2 hours » Quandry: if I fire my Anaconda without the silencer, which is gone, my head will likely shatter. If I don't fire and Dick has a gun? Ooo! 2 hours » Blood smear trail leads to the left of a modernistic wrought iron staircase. Gary Cooper and Patricial Neal in "The Fountainhead." 2 hours » Really beautiful inside the building: lots of horizontal lines, lots of glass, lots of natural wood. Horizontal lines represent freedom. 2 hours » I'd be a fool not to count on him not having a gun by the time I've reached him. My mind dips in and out again. A second? an hour? 2 hours » I giggle thinking that this would make a great movie finish chase. ".0007 miles per hour through the wilds of the Washington wilderness!" 2 hours » I collapse twice making it up the stairs. Judging by the smears in the chief's blood trail, he's on his belly, pulling himself along. 2 hours » There is a blood trail going from where we left him and up the cabin's front steps. I reload my Colt and follow on my hands and knees. 2 hours » He's not heavy, father; he's my hitman," *BLAM!* *BLAM!* and other Father Flannagan fantasies. I lift my head and Chief Dick is gone. 2 hours » When I can focus, Bluebird is stretched out on the asphalt driveway next to me, moaning and puffing. She carried me down from the hills. 2 hours » That was Chapter 21, by the way. Everything is in weary smears, I have difficulty breathing, until I feel my back slamming against pavement. 2 hours » Mixed blessings waking up from a migraine. Even if the headache is gone, you feel as though you've been rode hard and put away wet. 2 hours |
 |
| ↑ 20 |
Well, what that was was a loss of consciousness. I'm fairly convinced that stress contributes to migraines. 18 hours » "Let's go down and see what kind of liability insurance Chief Dick carries on this place. You've suffered grievous bodily harm, loss of---" 18 hours » Making a pressure bandage out of my shirt, I let her know the wound was in-and-out, no major pipes or structures damaged. 19 hours » She nodded toward the one I'd killed as she brushed stuff from her blouse. "Don't you know how hard it is to get brain spatter out of silk?" 19 hours » Bluebird was leaning against a tree, a spot on her right thigh red with blood. The 7th guard was on the ground, a knife through his throat. 19 hours » I fired twice through the tree where I imagined his head to be. Reaching him I saw he didn't have much of a head left. 19 hours » I heard two guns bark far to my left, and I sprinted toward the sounds, reloading as I ran. A face peered around a tree and ducked back. 19 hours » Suddenly there was a face in front of me not five feet away, his hand bringing around a gun. A "pok" sound and he dropped like a wet rag. 19 hours » "Bill? Greg? Harry?" shouted a voice from my left. "Bill?" He called again. Doing my best wounded jerk, I croaked, "Mother? Is that you?" 19 hours » Since I was now"it," I found a spot in some rocks and moss covered fallen trees, then fired again as a "here I am." Shouting from in front. 19 hours » In moments, a face frowning above the sights of a Glock peered over the barrier of ferns. The .44 roared, and then there were three. 19 hours » It was my turn to be "it." I removed the silencer from my .44 and waited. When he got within fifty feet I made with my one bird call: "Caw!" 20 hours » Concealing myself in a fern choked draw, I could hear what sounded like only one person coming. He was talking on a radio. 20 hours » If we had counted correctly, that should leave four remaining. As Bluebird fired again, I moved east through the trees until I heard sounds. 20 hours » I bet I could have taken them both with one shot. A .44 Magnum can shoot through an engine block. But, safety first: pop, pop. 20 hours » Two guys, both in their early fifties, came stumbling up the trail, trying to remember their service training, forgetting not to bunch up. 20 hours » I found an uphill trail and took a concealed position in some bushes ten yards west of the trail. There I waited. Didn't take long. 20 hours » I moved downhill under cover of the trees as she fired again. She probably didn't get a kill with that shot. It was a "here-I-am" salute. 20 hours » Predictably, his men spread out and headed into the woods in our direction. She got one of them through the head before reaching the trees. 20 hours » Chief Dick grabbed his left kneecap and toppled over onto his asphalted driveway. He pulled himself behind the tow truck for cover. 20 hours » Moving away from her fifty yards, I hunkered down and looked through the binocs. Unsilenced, Bluebird's shot resembled a cannon. 20 hours » "Hide-and-seek?" she asked. I nodded as I threaded my silencer onto my 8" .44 Magnum Colt Anaconda. "You're it," I said. 21 hours » "Hasn't seen us, though. Now he's pointing in the opposite direction. Company's coming. The men are spreading out." She looked at me. 21 hours » "This isn't good. He's pointing at us." I hand her the rifle. She looked and said, "He's pointing around at the hills. He's expecting us." 21 hours » They don't seem very disturbed by the dead man, I noted. Nothing they hadn't seen before, I surmised. The chief is pointing up at us. 21 hours » The chief murders the tow truck driver because he doesn't want anyone to know where he's going. Now all his men are accomplices. 21 hours » "I think we're feeling better about that mass murder thing," she said quietly, and with a disturbing element of glee in her voice. 21 hours » All became clear as Chief Dick had two of his men remove a dead body from the passenger side of the truck's cab. Bluebird smiled. 21 hours » Chief Dick had arrived. The front end of his blue Hummer was hanging from a tow truck, and very curiously, Dick was driving the truck. 21 hours » 7:23AM(PT) Bluebird gently shook my arm. I wiped sleep from my eyes. She was pointing at her rifle's scope. I got in position and looked. 21 hours » Bluebird takes first watch, I study the house for awhile, track down the architect, hack into his site, and study the plans. Now for a nap. 23 hours » Bluebird pointed out that cleaning house would appear as a horrific mass murder in this neighborhood. "Bother you?" I asked. Silly question. 23 hours » We came up on the backside of the chief's "cabin," a three-story Frank Lloyd Wright knock-off costing many millions. Seven visible guards. 23 hours » Bluebird brought her rifle and kit, I brought some food and ammo in my backpack, and we set off through some woods via Google Earth. 23 hours » Chapter 20. 5:20AM(PT) Once we arrived at Chief Dick's cabin, a few miles south of Tacoma, we drove past the armed guards at the entrance. 23 hours |
|
| ↑ 19 |
"You got any more shots of that mountain?" I took over driving while Bluebird looked through my Mt. Rainier album. http://pic.twitter.com/wudzPoE 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "Remeind me: What did we originally come out here to do?" Bluebird inquired. "We were going to help a cop commit suicide, pension-safe." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "I didn't feel good about taking that money---considering everything. I have the lawyer making up a trust. You know, for the girl." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "What's really good about it," I add, "is that with Dogmeat's bequest, this is even a profitable operation." A long, too long, silence. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » Just about the time we got on the Interstate, Cloud called. I filled him on on the past twenty-four hours and only one left to go. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "On your last Washington hit you went alone." I nodded. Terrible fellow to take out, but magnificent scenery. "See?" http://pic.twitter.com/EDTlm4S 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "So. until he cashes in his gold, he needs to go to a place he already has," she concluded. "Have you ever seen Mt. Rainier?" I ask. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "And if he has a lot of it," I added, "I don't see him putting it through the TSA scanner. He can't have much money on him now. So ...." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » Bluebird nodded. "I agree. He also needs to go where he can sell that gold in amounts that won't attract any attention." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "After all that ruckus last night and the media storm over his hurried vacation, he doesn't want to be anywhere in public." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "Isn't that sort of an obvious place to look?" she asked. "It's a guess, I grant you," I confessed. "I can't see him taking a plane or bus." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "I agree," I said. "Set a course for the great state of Washington. According to the information we have, King Dick has a cabin up there." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "The cops look like they're in there for the long haul," she observed. "And after Capt. Rat's demise, they'll be looking for bogus cops." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » "I can remember," said Bluebird, "when public service required sometimes quite a lot of sacrifice." I shook my head. "You're not that old." 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » One of the bay doors was open in the King's four-car garage, and it looked to me like something was driven out of that bay in one big hurry. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » I said mansion twice! Three times, now! Palace would be more accurate. In that driveway, close to the road, were two mangled bicycles. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » 9:00AM(PT) When Bluebird and I arrive at King Dick's mansion, a patrol car was already in the circular driveway in front of the mansion. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » Chief Dick taking lots of media heat for his sudden vacation. With Ferret and Hammer paid off, Bluebird and I decided to join him. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » SWAT eventually dug Scarface's body out of the rubble along with the body of one of his torture victims later identified as Jason, son of a 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » In a (supposedly) unrelated incident, the commander of IAD, King Rat, was reported DOA at Mercy-Mercy hospital following a raid on Scarface. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » Capt. Rat, who died yesterday afternoon as a result of a police involved motor accident, will be buried at Larchmont blah, blah, blah. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » King Rat, who had been seen riding home in an armored vehicle, could not be reached for comment. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » The chief of police had taken personal command of the detective bureau now that Chief Dick had gone on a sudden vacation. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » The migraine was gone, but left me feeling all used up. The streets were quiet, strangely enough, and we learned why on the news. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete » Chapter 19. 3:20AM(PT). @warrenellis Think reading a real-time novel is rough? Try writing one. Whatever. Bluebird sneaked us out at 2AM. 13 Sep Favorite Reply Delete |
|
| ↑ 18 |
I chased the pill with some water, and settled on the pillow. She kissed me, turned off the lights, and slipped out, closing the door. 13 hours » "The Chief Dick had some of his money in gold. Banker Bob didn't get that. Fix the headache first. We'll sneak out tonight." 13 hours » "He can't go anywhere. Banker Bob has all his funds." I grabbed my eyes as the migraine got its second wind. Bluebird handed me a pill. 13 hours » "What about Ferret and Hammer?" I asked. "They reported back to their precinct. I believe they're trying to find the Chief Dick." 13 hours » "Can we get out of here safely?" I asked her. She stood next to the bed and put her hand on my arm. "You had a bad one. Get some sleep." 13 hours » "Regretably the captain succumbed to his injuries a little over two hours ago. That leaves two scumbags, a mobster, and a punk." She said. 13 hours » "Have you been drinking regular coffee? Eating meats containing nitrates? Any citrus?" she asked officiously. "No," I answered. "The rat?" 14 hours » No more than a minute later, a tall, redheaded, rather ravishing woman in a white coat and draped stethoscope entered the room. "Bluebird." 14 hours » "Is it okay if I get up?" I asked. Another crackle. "I'll ask your doctor." "Thank you," I say to the disembodied voice. 14 hours » Must not be thinking of keeping me. I spied the nurse's call button and pushed it. A crackle, and a voice, "Yes?" 14 hours » Where are the others? Has Capt. Rat gone to that big cheese wheel in the sky? Exactly what is my status? I'm still in uniform. Promising. 14 hours » Months since the last one. There's no cure for them, but they always surprise me when they happen. And what fix am I in this time? 14 hours » Old injuries lead to periodic migraines, usually only devastating, occasionally accompanied by unconsciousness. 14 hours » 5:14 PM(PT). Well, wasn't that special. I'm in a hospital bed in a private room, my migraine warring with some excellent meds. 14 hours » "Lucky," I repeated. 16 hours » "Cop car accidentally slammed into his vehicle and flipped it. Internal injuries. Lucky to be alive," she said. 16 hours » "We'll have to tell Hammer how original his cop disguises were." I looked at her. "Did he say what the rat was in for?" I asked. 16 hours » "With me watching him from here and you mooning over him like a teen, he hasn't been able to go into action." 16 hours » "Really," I say. "It's the truth," she confirms. "He also calls his baton a nightstick." I nodded. "One of Scarface's finest." 16 hours » On her third trip for coffee, she paused to exchange a word with me. "you know, that cop calls his shield a badge." 16 hours » Tick tock, tick tock.... 17 hours » Bluebird got a cup from the floor kitchen, went to the cop, engaged him in conversation. He finished the cup and she went to get another. 17 hours » "Poor guy," I said. "All this excitement on the street, he's stuck guarding a rat. At least you could get him some coffee. Lots of coffee." 17 hours » "Sounds fairly terminal." She nods down one of the wings to where a cop was settling in a chair outside one of the rooms. 17 hours » "What's wrong?" I ask. "Nothing curable, I trust?" Bluebird shrugged. "What would you call having Scarface's hitters after you?" 17 hours » "Elvis," I answer. She nods. "Very close. Who it is, however, is Capt. Rat. the vice-commander of Internal Affairs." 17 hours » Meeting Bluebird at the nurse's station, she peered from beneath her visor and says so no one else can hear. "Gues who is a patient here?" 17 hours » Sounding very authoritative, Officer Bluebird calls me to the nurse's station, seventh floor. Embarrassed, I gave it a "10-4" and left. 17 hours » Many accidents. We're placed in a waiting room with a dozen other officers awaiting reassignment. My Radio Shack shoulder mike squawks. 17 hours » We're all going to the hospital. Just thought I'd fill you in. 18 hours » So Bluebird is driving, I'm riding shotgun, Hammer and Ferret are in back with the injured officer and her partner, who is bleeding, too." 18 hours » "Yes, sergeant," said Hammer. Streets all tied up, ambulance can't get through. "The female officer needs help soon. Use the SUV." 18 hours » Hammer driving. The police sergeant went to the window, glanced at the nametag, and said, "We need help, Officer Hammer. Put it in park." 18 hours » It was a drunk driver who altered our plans permanently. He ran a light and rammed a patrol car, injuring both officers. We were waved over. 18 hours » Every off duty cop is on the streets like 9000 beaters let loose in a bird sanctuary. Half the crooks and junkies are freaking. 18 hours » Chapter 18. 1:50PM(PT). The four of us, disguised as police officers, stole a black SUV that looked unmarked and said SWAT. OK so far. 18 hours |
|
↑ 17 |
 1 hour » Bluebird tells me that internet searches for "Blackbird" have skyrocketed, mainly in the Twitter corner. Mainly from Homeland Security. 1 hour » "Could this be the end of Rico?" I inquire. Bluebird ends click-click-click with a flourish and a "TA-DA!" Banker Bob is in big trouble. 1 hour » "A good screwing takes time to prepare properly," she cautions. Hammer looks at me, I look at Ferret, Ferret looks at Hammer. 1 hour » "We have to turn down the heat on us and direct it to someone who can handle it: Banker Bob," I say to Bluebird. Sirens all over the place. 1 hour » The way the police are looking for us you'd think we had concealed a nuclear device someplace in the city. Bluebird is set up again. 1 hour » It's almost Seven, Pacific Time, and ... and now almost eight. Reminds me of that old Jack Webb show: Dragnet. Had to move quickly. 1 hour » Possibly this could distract both the mob and the police leadership from the Blackbird hunt, at least long enough for us to finish our work. 2 hours » Scarface calling city hall, Chief Dick and the Rats scurrying around to get in touch with Banker Bob, who is growing colder as we tweet.. 2 hours » Besides, money swindles are not what I do. I'm a hunter not a money changer. These transactions will amp things up a bit. 2 hours » There was a considerable amount of money involved, and I was tempted. However, for half a billion dollars, they will come looking for you. 2 hours » She'd leave enough traces behind to point to the recently expired Banker Bob as the culprit. Scarface, Chief Dick, and the two rats: broke. 2 hours » Savings, checking, investments, off shore accounts, down to and including their kids piggy banks. "Leave them without a bean," she said. 2 hours » Using special software, Bluebird is utilizing Banker Bob's hard drive and some other equipment to remove everyone's cash. 2 hours » Ferret gave us a local cop primer lesson. Badges here are called "shields," billy clubs "batons," and so on. Then it's back to work. 2 hours » Later, we went for the midnight madness discounts. Hammer came up with excellent badges. When I asked, he predictably said, "I know a guy." 2 hours » It was distressingly easy to obtain everything we needed, and we spent the night collecting our props. When stores were open, we paid. 3 hours » "We'll have to disguise ourselves as kindergarten schoolgirls to get around this," I said to Hammer. "Or cops," he suggested, brows raised. 3 hours » A series of photos were put out showing what we might look like in several kinds of disguise. They were excellently done, too. 3 hours » Crooked or not, the Chief Dick was still chief-of-detectives. Being in Scarface's pocket notwithstanding, he was still a detective. 3 hours » I can't help but believe killing a bunch of cops would not be approved by our ex-client, the dying detective. We had been disguised, but... 3 hours » Since Chief of Dicks was the cop he told, a blue net dropped so quickly on the city Hammer and I almost got nabbed. 3 hours » They point to the person who blabbed, which is Scarface. So much for professional courtesy. He blabbed to the remaining police crooks. 3 hours » The big thing in that headline, of course, was the first word: Blackbird. They had my code name, occupation, and enough particulars. 3 hours » Early morning headline read: BLACKBIRD KILLS TWO OFFICERS, which is unfair on so many levels. They were retired, among other things. 3 hours » The cop bar had no surveillance cameras, however there were at least 70-80 trained police officers there to give descriptions. 3 hours » Not prepared for how fast the police responded to the deaths of Scumbags Sam & Stan, although Sam was self-defense and Stan a suicide. 3 hours » Chapter 17. 5:45PM(PT). A welcome to those peeking at this from aTwitMystery, and apologies for last night's tweet gap. 3 hours |
|
↑ 16 |
"You aren't back in the sauce, are you, Blackbird?" I thought a moment. "Never fear, but thanks for reminding me. A meeting tonight." 34 seconds » "Eh?" he inquired. "It is hoped that you will use this money to preserve current jobs and perhaps begin hiring new workers." 1 minute » I got a call from Cloud. "Is this money hole plugged up yet?" he asked. "A small business stimulous grant will soon be on your desk." 3 minutes » "Should be enough. You notarize his signiture?" I asked. Bluebird reached into her purse and pulled out her seal. "Signed and sealed." 7 minutes » "What time?" I asked. She didn't have to glance at any notes. "Usually around 2PM. A little more than 48 hours." 14 minutes » "That was an alley window and he landed wedged in between the building and a Dumpster," said Bluebird. "The truck comes Tuesday." 21 minutes » "Soon as this hits the news," says Ferret, "it's gonna force Scarface to try and secure Dogmeat's files and safety deposit boxes." 23 minutes » Lawyer Dogmeat really was attempting to make amends before he leaped from that 46th story window. Can a man like that be all bad?" 26 minutes » There were a number of charities: Wounded Warriors, USO, St. Jude's, Maine Handicapped Skiing, and a few others. 27 minutes » A nice bequest to Patricia Lin Chang and her daughter was deemed appropriate, making up somewhat for his client's doings. 30 minutes » No point in giving anything back to the government. They'd just find another Dogmeat or Banker Bob to feed it to. 31 minutes » I am impressed. His nestegg looks as though it was laid by a pterodactyl. I had Bluebird revise Dogmeat's will. 34 minutes » Back to the subject of Lawyer Dogmeat. Using Banker Bob's hard drive, I have Bluebird follow the money to the lawyer. I whistle. 41 minutes » Kind of makes me wonder what would happen if a conflict came up requiring the kind of mobilization the US experienced in WWII. I wonder .... 43 minutes » Probably not a good idea to attract the National Guard. It's resources are already strained to the limit. 45 minutes » We could simply pass on to Scarface that his mouthpiece fell out. The gang boss would likely go crazy in such an event. 48 minutes » All Dogmeat did was provide his clients with the best defense he could, right? That, cover up a murder and kidnapping, and corrupt the city. 51 minutes » Lawyer Dogmeat. He's already given us everthing of value he either possesses or knows. But what was his crime? Why is he a scumbag? 54 minutes » The chief-of-Ds and the two Internal Affairs Rats will have to wait until later. We have to keep Jason alive as well as Scarface. Who's left? 55 minutes » No point in taking them out just then. In fact, there was a commentator who wondered where Banker Bob was. Not discovered yet, apparently. 58 minutes » Chapter 16. Noon (PT) Today the city administration, including ChiefDick, and the two Rats were tied up with the 9/11 observances. |
|
| ↑ 15 |
"And then there were six," I said to no one in particular. 49 » "Three down and seven to go," I said to Hammer. Ferret called from Clay's girlfriend's. "Drug overdose," he said. "I got the videos." 50 » When she pushed his head beneath the water's surface, Banker Bob was already dead. She gathered up his hard drive and called Blackbird. 54 » Alcohol and the Percodan. The doctor ... whatever. The Viagra was working spectacularly. He yawned as he heard her footsteps approach. 57 » Relaxing, all that hot water, dim lights, bubbles. Relaxing, too, was the brandy, the Percodan--or was that the Percocet? Something .... 58 » He slid down into the hot piles of bubbles and water, his eyes closed, his nose inhaling the sandlewood scent of the bath oil. 1 » He stepped into the hot water, lowered himself slowly into it, and called out, "I'm ready." He heard his dream answer, "Just a moment." 1 » There was the cut crystal brandy bottle he kept in the bathroom just in case he needed a drink. He took a gulp and it set him up just fine. 1 » He was sure that was a Percodan. Lights dim. He dumped a bottle of bubble bath into the water. Don't want his potgut to scare her off. 1 » With the bath running, his clothes in a pile on the floor, the lights low, he felt a slight twinge in his back and took another pill. 1 » What was ... Helping her mother? He staggered into the bathroom and looked down. His own stimulous program was working just fine. 1 » How ... how to make it last as long as possible? "Hey, Bob," he heard a voice whisper into his ear. "Let's take a bath. Together." 1 » He made it into the house and up the stairs somehow, the movement in his shorts announcing his foresight. This was going to be perfect. 1 » "Did we stop at your place?" he asked. "Oh, silly, she said, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "Of course we did." 1 » Finding a Percodan, he studied it a moment, looked at her legs again, then took two of the tablets as the car pulled into his driveway. 1 » His back pain, though. He'd better do something about that. He was going to need his back and in good working order. He took out his pills. 1 » He remembered the doctor saying that taking the drug on an empty stomach would increase the effect. Grateful he hadn't eaten, he smiled. 1 » Still, sometimes things were a little slow in Snakeville. Alcohol didn't help that. Little blue pill might not be enough. He took two. 1 » Blearily, he looked over at the young woman driving the car. The hem of her skirt was well above her shapely legs. Bob wasn't sixty, yet. 1 » Not his fault. That mobster took a few millions to sit on that baby killer and keep the cops away. Think of the lost jobs if he talked! 1 » The skateboard park did create twenty-one construction jobs that lasted for almost two months. Just 'cause the kids only do drugs there. 1 » Wasn't like he was a billionaire or anything. Municipal workers union, police union, fire department union, teachers union. Skateboard park. 1 » Media got gobs in municipal ads to keep mum about where the money wasn't going. His own accounts only got their fair share, he thought. 1 » When he stopped giggling, his head resting against the side window, he thought about where that money had gone. Unions got a hunk. 1 » "Tch, tch, tch," he giggled as he wagged his finger while she folded him into the passenger seat of his Lexus. "Created heaps of jobs." 1 » "Well, ashishtant treasurer," he slurred modestly. "What did you do with all that government stimulous money," she asked brightly. 1 » Sure she could. She took him by the arm. "On the way you must tell me what it's like being treasurer for such a big city." 1 » Probably unsafe to drive, he thought. "Dear," he said to the young woman, who had unbuttoned the top of her blouse, "Could you drive?" 1 » By the time they left the bar, Banker Bob realized he was a bit tipsy--a lot tipsy. He had consumed quite a few, and had not eaten. 1 » "That would be naughty, wouldn't it?" she said as she chucked him beneath his chin. She finished her drink, he finished his, fresh arrivals. 1 » "I'll likely need my computer if it's the least bit complicated. Could you come to my place after you get your files? Unless you think it--" 1 » "Could ... could we have a drink, first?" He could harly believe his good fortune. Still, there was his position and the media. 1 » "I would be ever so grateful," she said. "Can you go to my place? That's where all the information is." He nodded, "Of course, my dear." 1 » "I shouldn't impose, it's very complicated," she said. He smiled benignly and said, "It's no imposition at all." 1 » "You know so much about money," she said, "I bet you could help my mother." Looking as bankerish as possible, he said, "I might." 1 » Avuncular is the word, thought Bob. Lecherous avuncular. She'd probably turn him down, but trying doesn't cost anything but pride. 2 » She was so small, frail, built, and reminded Banker Bob of that old movie actress, Susan Hayward, when Susan was very young. Bob was feeling 2 » Chapter 15. Also last night, City Assistant Comptroller Banker Bob met a luscious young thing in the bar of the Finestkind Steak House. 2 » |
|
↑ 14 |
"If it works, Grasshopper, an accident is as good as a plan." He put his piece back in his holster. "Two down, and eight to go," he said. 3 » Shot himself right through his femoral artery. He was still gushing his life out through his lap. Hammer looked at me and shrugged. 3 » When he saw us coming, he had pulled his piece to shoot us, but his arm was injured, he was drunk, and he shot himself in the leg. 3 » "God dammit," he said quietly, then collapsed forward ionto the steering wheel. A glance in the car was enough to see what had happened. 3 » He saw us coming, Hammer and I put a few feet of distance between us and pulled out weapons when we heard a shot. Stan looked down. 3 » When we arrived on foot, we saw that Stan had rear-ended a parked truck. As we approached Stan lifted his bloody head from the limp airbag. 3 » I was about to call Bluebird who was manning our backup chase car when we heard a horrendous crash from the end of the block. 3 » Before I could get close, he was in his car, speeding away, a piece of the car he had been parked behind spinning on the asphalt. 3 » For being lit up, Stan was pretty quick on his feet. While Hammer arranged Sam's body (a bar fight gone wrong), I chased Stan. 3 » In the dimly lit parking lot, as Sam reached for his piece, Hammer picked him up by his head, snapped his neck, and dropped him. Stan ran. 3 » Neither Sam nor Stan was very steady on their feet, but Stan was feeling the hops a bit more than his partner. 3 » Hammer and I exchanged looks, we nodded at each other, and I said, "Great." I threw a couple of twenties on the table. "Lead the way." 3 » "You're right," said Sam. "This place is dead. Stan and I know a spot that has a cool band. Plenty of chicks hang out there, too." 3 » Meanwhile, they were sitting with two out-of-towners who might posess some useful information regarding who, what, when, where, etc. 3 » They could see Clay's lawyer sending incriminating videos out to every TV station in the west. When it hit the fan, they'd best be gone. 3 » Hammer let slip that we had gotten the information out of Jason by first showing him that Clay was dead. Sam and Stan exchanged looks. 3 » "We found her," said Hammer proudly. "Alive," I said. "You never," said Sam, an edge of panic in his voice. "Alive and remembering," I said. 3 » Sam did a credible job of trying to recall while Stan practically evacuated his bowels on the floor. "Chang. Mirabeth Chang," said Sam. 3 » "It'll all be out in the media in a couple of days. No harm in it." Hammer looked at Sam. "You remember three years ago, the Chang case?" 3 » After awhile, Sam looked at Hammer and said, "That business you're in town for; Anything you can talk about?" Hammer glanced at me. 3 » "Still paying," interrupted Sam. He nodded. "Doesn't speak for me neither. I want to see those pictures." Stan gave in, "Me too," he said. 3 » "He didn't speak for me," I continued. "A lot of people paid a terrible price to see those pictures--" 3 » "Perhaps that's not who the President is," I began, "although I note that he looked at those pictures himself." Hammer nodded, as did Sam. 3 » "President says looking at those pictures isn't who we are." Hammer, Sam, and I all laughed. "What's so funny?" demands Stan. 3 » He nodded thougtfully. "Yeah. I'd like to see that picture of OBL with a bullet hole through his head." Stan was frowning, on the edge. 3 » "I get it," said Sam. "We're seeing our guys blown up on TV along with Osama, Usama mother jumper still smiling and playing with a gun." 3 » Stan shrugged. "President says the pix are too gruesome." Hammer laughs, "Any more gruesome than the pictures of the dead coming back?" 4 » "The one shot everybody needs to see is the bastard old, white-haired, feeble, irrelevant, and with a bullet in his eye." 4 » As the waitress left, I said, "On the TV news. Bin Laden. All the stock footage they have shows him young, strong, free, in command. 4 » "You know what it is," I said. "It's the damned pictures." Stan frowned. "What pictures?" he asked as he ordered another brew. 4 » "I know, but you'd think we lost the damned war. Osama sleeps with the fishes, right?" Sam and Stan nodded. "Yeah. Lotta cops still dead." 4 » Hammer glanced around the bar and said, "Man it is depressing in here." Sam nodded. "Tenth anniversary of 9/11 tomorrow," he explained. 4 » "Us, too," said Sam. "In town on business?" Hammer finished draining a third of his bottle, placed it on the table, and nodded. "Yeah." 4 » "No," said Hammer. "I'm retired NYPD, private now." He nodded toward me indicating I was a brother in the blue, also private. 4 » Scumbag Sam gestured toward the two empty chairs and Hammer and I sat. "You two local?" his partner Scumbag Stan asked. 4 » Hammer got a Heineken and I got an O'douls in a glass. We went to where the two retired cops had a table and I asked if we could join them. 4 » The cop bar is "The Tune Up." It was crowded but somber, all in the bar affected by tomorrow's 9/11 anniversary, despite OBL's demise. 4 » Perhaps it was his way of convincing himself he wasn't entirely a crook. His partner was also there. Stroke of luck. 4 » We began our own neating up plan last night shortly after Hammer arrived. One of the two retired cops guarding Jason hung out in a cop bar. 4 » Chapter 14.6:48AM(PT) I suppose I have control issues. To have this come out the way that I prefer, I'm getting a shade obsessive. 4 |
|
↑ 13 |
"It's going to be tricky," I said at last. "Very tricky." 11 » Bluebird nodded. "And Scarface can't let him succeed at that. What are we going to do about it?" 11 » "On top of that, he now has his witness against Clay, who he doesn't know is dead, and Jason, who he knows where to find." 12 » "But he can't let it go," Bluebird completed. "If he begins, they can't let him finish, can they?" I shook my head. 12 » "He is an honest cop who knows of criminals in his own department. He doesn't want to bring shame on the police, but--" 12 » Later, after the pair had left, Bluebird asked, "Do we go home now?" I shook my head. "Not quite." She pursed her lips. "Why?" 12 » He put his arms around her. "When you get a chance," I said to him, "ask for her views on suicide." 12 » To Mirabeth, I said, "This is the cop who has been looking for you for all these years." She walked over and hugged the cop. 12 » To the ex-client I said, "Take Mirabeth to her mother." 12 » The ex-client wanted assurance that we understood he was an EX-client. "We're hip," I assured him. 13 » That's why we brought the girl to him, I explained. "For reasons I needn't go into, we're shy in front of the media." 13 » We didn't mention the pigs to our ex-client, nor how we got the information. Finally he invited us in. "Got to tell your mom!" he said. 13 » She performed a host of other chores. No school, frequent beatings. I felt like feeding the damned woman to the hogs all over again. 13 » Little girls Clay knew about had a terrible rate of survival. Mirabeth cleaned, cooked, washed up, hauled wood, fed the chickens and hogs. 13 » It was his mother who saw the economic and security advantages in having a slave no one knew a thing about. This was kept from Clay. 13 » Hence, when Clay loaded the girl in the trunk of his car, he thought she was dead. At the farm to dispose of the body, Jason didn't have a corpse. 13 » "When Clay fought with Meifeng, he thought he had killed the girl. The cut was superficial, but he did knock her unconscious." 14 » The detective stood dumbfounded, looking at the girl on his doorstep, as I tried to explain why she was alive. 14 » Chapter 13. 3:40PM(PT) Once we got back in the city I chose to go directly to the ex-client's house rather than Patricia Chang's. 14 |
|
12 |
"Her vocal cords were," she said. I patted the child on her back as I reminded myself to always stay on the good side of Bluebird. 3 » "Just curiosity," I said, "but was the lady of the house dead when you fed her to the hogs?" Bluebird frowned, thought about it, and smiled. 5 » "Had to dispose of Cletus and Mama Horror," she said. "You know they raise pigs in the back? Huge hogs, half a ton or more. Hungry brutes." 9 » As she drove south, gentle music on the radio, the moon silvering the surrounding hills, "I asked Bluebird, what took so long?" 12 » "No, I agreed. "He shouldn't." There was a lot more crying, and much more to come. When Bluebird showed, Mirabeth was asleep on my lap. 14 » I told her he had killed himself. I told her about the divorce, the company failing, then-- "He shouldn't have done that," she said. 16 » While we waited for Bluebird, Mirabeth noted I hadn't mentioned her Daddy at all. The kid wanted it straight; no baby talk or euphemisms. 19 » She shook her head then shook it again. No there wasn't anything from that house she wanted. I took her down the road to the car. 23 » "My friend and I are going to take you back to your mother. Is there anything from the house you want to bring?" 24 » After a few moments, Bluebird emerged from the front door and gave me the high sign. Mama Horror had been dealt with. 25 » "Do you remember your mother, Mirabeth?" Then she burst out crying and I held her as her tiny body shook with sobs. Yeah, she remembered. 28 » "Yes," she answered. "Well, we're sort of like that to the police." She wanted to know if I'm from Mexico. "No, dear. New England." 30 » I rubbed the back of my neck. "Not exactly. You know how illegal immigrants sometimes pick fruit and clean houses here?" 33 » "I'm called Gertie, now. Gertrude. I haven't been called Mirabeth in a long time." I heard a sob catch her throat. "Are you the police?" 34 » Whispering, she said, "You shouldn't be here! They'll kill you!" I smiled at her and whispered, "I'm safe and so are you, Mirabeth." 37 » While Bluebird worked her way to the rear of the house, I sneaked up on the girl. In a whisper I said, "Mirabeth?" She started, then saw me. 45 » Hiding in the shadows cast by the moon, she cried. We heard only two sniffs. Obviously, crying was not allowed. 46 » Three years older, but no doubt it was Mirabeth Chang. She carried the bucket to the end of a path, left it there, then went to a tree. 49 » There was a light on in the house and we saw a young girl emerge from the front door carrying a heavy bucket. Bluebird handed me the binocs. 51 » Must have been some good stuff he was on. He didn't even squirm. The almost full moon was shining and the sky was clear. Got a good look. 53 » The fellow guarding the road, we can call him Cletus, was a cousin or something. I held his nose until he went for the long sleep. 56 » Seems that Jason and Clay grew up on this farm where their father (now deceased) and mother made ends meet growing cannibis. 59 » Jason had been accurate. A hardscrabble kind of farm, poorly maintained house, dilapidated barn, an armed guard on the road entrance, asleep. 1 hour » Chapter 12. 4:20AM(PT). An interesting night. We drove north into another state, up into some hilly forested country, and found the place. 1 hour |
|
↑ 11 |
One needs standards. Otherwise one's just another's weapon, or insane. I put Douglas' "Earth Prayer" on My iPod and close my eyes. 9 Sep » Gave my word to Scarface, though. What's a promise made to a mobster, you ask? See, every time you promise, you also promise yourself. 9 Sep » Having left Jason alive still rankles. Every time I think I've found the bottom to human cruelty, a Jason comes along showing new depths. 9 Sep » 6:33PM(PT). A quick note. Bluebird and I are driving north. We figure a four-hour trip even with the way Bluebird drives. Having left Jason 9 Sep » "Lie," added Bluebird "and we start removing tidbits." I asked him where the remains of Mirabeth were, and his answer stunned us both. 9 Sep » "What will keep me from showing this picture to your host," I whispered, "is the answer to a question. Answer truthfully, we'll be gone." 9 Sep » I opened my cell phone and showed Jason a postmortem shot of his brother. As his mouth sagged open, his eyes went wide in terror. 9 Sep » "Who are you?" he demanded of me, his gaze following Bluebird's finely honed blade. "You can't hurt me," he said. "Clay will ..." 9 Sep » "Who wants to know?" Still sneering, too. Bluebird gave a chilling laugh as she drew a filleting knife from her purse. He stood abruptly. 9 Sep » I gestured for him to sit, and he slumped into the chair, folding his arms. Sullen fellow. "You are Jason?" I inquired. He actually sneered. 9 Sep » He was followed by two guards, one who looked around the room and exited, the other who pulled shut the door leaving the three of us alone. 9 Sep » "This would make a rather sound prison cell," Bluebird observed. After another moment, a youngish fellow entered from another door. 9 Sep » We were ushered into a rather stark chamber, windowless, a table in it's center, several chairs against the stuccoed walls. 9 Sep » He didn't order either Bluebird or me searched, apparently understanding it to be a pointless gesture. The guards were wary nonetheless. 9 Sep » Chapter 12. Although Scarface didn't have a scarred face, he didn't resemble Al Pacino in the slightest. Looks more like Barney Frank. 9 Sep » As I studied the exterior of the compound I said to her, "Scarface isn't in the compound. He ought to be here in half an hour. Park here," 9 Sep » I looked at Bluebird and she nodded back. "That would be excellent, sir. Thank you and three-thirty it is." I closed my cell. 9 Sep » "I'll regard this as a favor," I offer. Scarface is thinking, a whack on the house. Can you be there by three, three-thirty?" he asked. 9 Sep » "You misunderstood me, sir. I have questions only he can answer. I'll return him quite alive." Should I play the Clay card? Probably not. 9 Sep » A longer pause this time. "He's a pretty damned important guest. I need to keep him alive." 9 Sep » "You have a guest in your residence west of the city. His name is Jason. I would very much like to talk with him. Uninterrupted." 9 Sep » "What terms?" he demanded. " I am not a loose end to be neated up. Ever." Now, he paused. "So, what d' you want, Mr. Blackbird?" 9 Sep » "So why should I talk with you?" he asked. "The gentleman to whom you refer breached the terms of our contract." 9 Sep » He had a wicked chuckle of his own. "Yeah, I heard your last client didn't make out so good." I paused again. "That's true," I said. 9 Sep » "My name is Blackbird," I began. "Yeah, I know who you are. You lookin' for work?" I chuckled. "Perhaps another time." 9 Sep » I began with the ghost toe, calling Scarface, eventually getting through to him. "What d' you want, an' hurry up." I paused. 9 Sep "So what're you going to do?" asked Cloud. I smiled. "Remember Ned?" I asked. "Sure. What about him?" I answered, "Time to pinch some toes." 2 minutes ago » "Yeah, I think I have. Loyal, respectful, and he probably helps Boy Scouts across the street." 4 » I got up and went into the back yard where once was a garden. "You ever run into an honest cop?" I asked Cloud. "No," he answerd. "You?" 7 » Cloud called a few minutes later. "The client has cancelled. He refuses half back on his payment. What's going on?" 9 » I return to the pancakes. I need to think about this. 35 » The frown deepens. "You mean dying in the line of duty for the pension benefits." He nods. "That's why I'm calling it off, I can't do it." 36 » "I been a cop thirty years. This stuff that's against the law--" I hold up a hand, "It's no more against the law than what you're doing." 39 » "Of course it's against the law. That's why you hired me instead of Goody Two Shoes." He frowned. "It goes against the grain," he says. 41 » "Of course I do. But this stuff you're doing, it's against the law." And I had only told him about a little B&E. Didn't know about ex-Clay. 44 » I am stunned. "Call it off? Don't you want to find Mirabeth? Get a little closure for her poor mother?" He sighs, looking down at my plate. 46 » "However, our original quote is firm. Whatever additional costs accrue, we will absorb." He leans back in his chair. "Call it off." 48 » "What I paid isn't enough, is it?" His expression is quite troubled. "I confess the job has gotten rather labor intensive," I admit. 52 » "You aren't anything like what I thought you'd be," he says. I nod, wipe my mouth, and say, "It's surprising a lot of people these days." 55 » So, I'm eating the pancakes he cooked (with genuine Maine maple syrup!), he's sitting there watching me, and waits until I'm sipping my tea. 56 » He said he had my breakfast prepared and he wanted to talk. Parents, school principals, bosses--hate it when they "want to talk." 58 » "Yankees and the Red Sox both lost last night," said the client from the bedroom door. He looked pale but he smiled. "The Dodgers won." 1 hour ago » There is also the ghost toe, Clay, that no one knows is already up at the pearly gates talking fast to Pete, trying to make a deal. 1 hour ago » Next was the second in command of the Internal Affairs Division. Capt. Rat. Way down there on the pinky was Dogmeat, his little-jobs lawyer. 1 hour ago » Who were Scarface's little toes. First was the city's chief-of-detectives, Chief Dick. Next was King Rat, the city's head of IAD. 1 hour ago » Ned's the one who brought me into the business. He would say: "A big man squeals just by pinching a little toe." A maxim proved by Clay. 1 hour ago » Getting Scarface to cooperate we need leverage. His family? His drug empire? His competition? Too complicated. I smiled thinking of Ned. 1 hour ago » To talk with Jason, we have to get to him while he is still alive and able to communicate, which means rescuing him from Scarface. 1 hour ago » To clear the case, Mirabeth has to be found, and Jason punished. (Clay's doing his time.) To find Mirabeth, we have to talk to Jason. 1 hour ago » 10:00AM or so, and I needed to sort out what to do about the mess--expensive mess--my good intentions had gotten us all into. 1 hour ago » Chapter 11. I wake to the sounds of violent retching. Chemo side-effect. He had warned me. I didn't check on him. Puking is a private thing. 1 hour ago |
|
| ↑ 10 |
No, Virginia, we're not in LA. The big clue? Jason is held in a compound 26 miles west of "the city." 26 miles west of LA is under water. 4 » Time for me to get some sleep. Going to charge extra from now on for West Coast jobs. Jet lag is killing me. 4 » Not a sideline, he says. Scarface ordered him to take on Clay's defense. "It's just business," says Dogmeat. Am I showing bias here? 4 » 2:17AM(PT) We've got all the lawyer had and a bunch more. This guy is on the mobster's legal team. Kid snuffers just a sideline with him. 5 » Eventually, there was another call from Cloud. Why am I still sticking with the contract, and why am I still tweeting? 11 » So, when I was by myself, I called Bluebird. "We need all the lawyer's stuff, too. And the lawyer," I added. 11 » "The smear on the force would affect a lot of good cops. It could destroy the department. With Clay dead, his lawyer will go public." 11 » "And your point is?" I inquired. He shook his head sadly, "I been a cop too long to do this to the department." He looked at me. 11 » "The threat won't work unless we can back it up, and to do that we'd have to go to the DA's office or the media." 11 » He looked like I'd just told him his dog died. "We can't threaten the mob with this," he said. "Why?" I asked. 11 » I went to the client's house right away, and as luck would have it, he was home. I showed him what we'd found and awaited his praise. 12 » We had enough to swap with the mob faction for Jason. A little work on Jason and our client's case would be cleared. 12 » Clay was a strong believer in insurance for a baby killer. We even got stills of the mob boss and one big cheese exchanging gifts. 12 » By itself the cell phone videos on the unit Ferret found taped to the bottom of Clay's toilet tank were enough. But he had backups. 12 » Chapter 10. We finished with Clay's place around six. We gathered enough stuff to put a number of big cheeses into the blender. 12 |
|
| ↑ ↑ 9 |
To Bluebird, "First we toss his place, then his lawyer's, then we'll see what we have. Once we know, I'll talk with our client tonight." 43 » That's when I gave Bluebird the signal to take him out. One silenced shot, clean. "Can you take care of this?" I ask Ferret. "I know a guy." 45 » "He never told you where he dumped the body?" I asked. "No. I told him to hold that back. You know, give him a bargaining chip in case cops- 47 » "Where's the little girl's body?" I ask. Clay shakes his head. "I don't know. When the cops showed Jason was in the car. He drove off." 50 » A room full of shaking heads and Clay flipped. "You got to protect Jason! He didn't do nothin'!" Nothing, except protect a baby killer. 51 » "If any of the stuff I have gets out, they'll snuff Jason." I look at the others. "Do we have any investment in keeping Jason Alive?" 57 » No, Jason just helped him try and move Granny. He cut his finger during the attempt, thus the three drops of his blood on Granny's clothes. 1 hour ago » Let's call him Scarface. He could afford a $3 Mill safe house to hold Clay's younger brother as a hostage. Is Jason in the rackets, too? 1 hour ago » **Zap!** **zzzzzap!** . . . and we got the name of the crime boss who needed the three detectives killed because they almost had him. 1 hour ago » There was something more, though. Who had the big money that was at risk who was financing this coverup. That's who Clay feared the most. 1 hour ago » Soon we had the lawyer's name, number, and address, The names of the other two police officials involved, and the one in the mayor's office. 1 hour ago » Yes, the lawyer had copies and so too did someone else **zzap!** the someone else being Clay's girlfriend, Lindy, and her address.. 1 hour ago » The message in the front office was clear: get me out of this or certain phone videos in Clay's possession would wind up on YouTube. 1 hour ago » Clay had put Mirabeth in his trunk and was going back for Granny when the cops arrived. Clay asked for a lawyer. 1 hour ago » Granny put up a scrap, Mirabeth joined in swinging a 1/4 size baseball bat, and he killed both of them. 1 hour ago » It's a thing for little girls, and when Clay is really juiced, he goes hunting. Which took him to Meifeng's home. Mirabeth was visiting. 1 hour ago » They were all cops, and all clean hits, as they say on TV. Clay got his payment and a forever get-out-of-jail-free card. But Clay has a yen. 1 hour ago » Well, it seems that Clay is also in the takeout business insofar as erasing three men the city's chief of detectives found inconvenient. 1 hour ago » Clay smirks. Is it possible he's never seen a Taser before? "A demonstration then," I say as I pull the trigger for just a short burst. 1 hour ago » Ferret leaned next to Clay's head. "Do you talk or do we fry your balls." "Thank you for that clarifying statement, brother Ferret," I say. 1 hour ago » Well, I stuck that one in his crotch. "Need we demonstrate the efficacy of this technique?" Clay looked blank and said, "Huh?" 1 hour ago » I hold out my hand and Bluebird puts her Taser into it. I uncoil the leads, stick one of the anchors through his left ear lobe and the other 1 hour ago » "Clay, you probably think you can do without most of your toes--or all of them, if you don't mind walking like Walter Brennan. It's true." 1 hour ago » "What a coincidence!" I exclaim. "We can deliver the identical product at the same cost in one-tenth the time." He shakes his head again. 1 hour ago » He stared at me, then shook his head. No smirk this time, though. "If I tell you what you want to know, they'll kill me." 1 hour ago » "Indeed, I did. Now however I want to know so much more. As before, I may not even know the questions to ask, so talk and don't stop." 1 hour ago » "Clay," I say, "you sent us off on something of a fool's errand. didn't you?" "You just wanted to know where he is. That's what you said." 1 hour ago » He's still tied in the chair, his foot has a Band-Aid on the spot where the missing toe was attached. I pull up a chair and sit facing him. 1 hour ago » We are approaching where Ferret's boys are entertaining Clay 9-Toes. I gulp the rest of my coffee and make up my mind to be patient. 1 hour ago » After the call, both Ferret and Bluebird look like a couple of paintings. "I need to know more about him?" I confess. 1 hour ago » We need to know a whole lot more about everybody. I call the client and tell him I'm taking him up on his offer to move in with him. 2 » If the bad guys in this contract are the police, that's the kind of mess a couple of bullets can't clear up. And is our client clean? Hmm. 2 » Sorry. Ran out of space. Let me think. Our natural adversaries in the take out business are police authorities. They want a monopoly. 2 » Message from . . . someone who wants to know why I use all these weird code names for characters. Well, Virginia, it's so we can disguise th 2 » Chapter 9. Slept some in the car, but too many bumps. Cloud called with another job. Told him I was tied up on this one. Rethink this? 2 |
|
| ↑ 8 |
"My boys are keeping him entertained," says Ferret. "We goin' to get any sleep first?" I nod. "Sleep then back to Clay's toes." 1 hour ago » "No. First let's find out if we can do our client any good by pursuing this. And I think it's time to talk with Clay again.Still on ice?" 1 hour ago » Bluebird reaches for a muffin and breaks off a corner. "This is getting deeper all the time. Time to cancel the contract?" she asks. 1 hour ago » "I can do that. We got pix of the ones I don't know. Chances are they're either LA or local cops. You'll need their boss, too." 1 hour ago » "And," added Ferret, "they'll make it look like suicide." Bluebird and I look at Ferret. "We need more information on those guards," I say. 1 hour ago » "Are you going to tell the client?" asks Bluebird. "No," I answer. "If the detective goes after city hall, they'll do him." 1 hour ago » Ferret looks at me. "We're gettin' in some heavy territory if we're talkin' government cover-up. Their gang is bigger'n ours." 1 hour ago » Bluebird shakes her head. "We're not from the area. You, Ferret?" He nods as he pushes away his plate. "Two of 'em are retired LA cops." 2 » "Otherwise, it would be easier, and less expensive, to erase him." I look at my two companions. "Do we recognize any of those guards?" 2 » I nod. "Someone important doesn't want Jason talking to anyone. And Jason must have something pretty bad on the big guy. too." 2 » "Takes a wad o' money to run that kind o' security," says Ferret. Bluebird adds, "That house'd go for three mill, even in this economy." 2 » Pancakes, eggs, bacon, butter, syrup, home fries and ketchup. I am trying to give my cardiologist a heart attack. 2 » "We need Jason alive to find out what happened to Mirabeth," I say, and nod to the waitress to bring more coffee. The all-nite diner was HQ. 2 » Chapter 8. 6:02AM (Pacific). "We could just kill them all," suggested Bluebird. We had all been thinking the same thing. 2 |
|
| ↑ 7 |
True. Cracking this place is going to be a lot tougher than grabbing Clay. I watched the back, Bluebird the front, and Ferret got the pizza. 12 » After we drive around back, Bluebird nods toward the rear of the house where there are two more guards. "We need to study this," she says. 13 » Ferret asked it first "How's a two-bit banger on the run rate all this?" I nodded and said, "We must remember to ask him." 13 » Jason was living very well in a gated hacienda guarded by an armed fellow and a big brute of a dog. 13 » Ferret rode in the back seat while Bluebird drove, keeping it under ninety. When we got to the address, we were stunned. 13 » Chapter 7. We actually thought about telling the detective about Jason's location, but decided against it. Cops are too encumbered by rules. 13 |
|
| ↑ 6 |
"Are we working for the cops?" Ferret asks when we're back on the street. "No," I answer, "but we're on the side of the angels." 16 » It turns out that Jason is living under an assumed name in a small town twenty-six miles west of the city. 16 » "In theory, you have nine more toes, Clay." The room fills with the odor of singed meat as the wound is fried shut. "As I was saying---" 16 » His eyes go very wide as she picks up an old dinner knife from the floor and heats the blade to cherry red. "To cauterize the wound," I say. 16 » "Now," I say, "we would like to know where Jason is." I place his little toe on his lap while Bluebird fires up a miniature acetylene torch. 16 » "Cop," he began, "you are going to look so silly in--" And then I snipped off his little toe. He opened his mouth, Ferret stuck in a sock. 16 » I looked at his eyes, he met my gaze, a knowing smile on his face. I put the opened scissors on his toe up next to the ball of the foot. 16 » "You prefer a different toe?" I ask. "You bastards!" he shouts. "My lawyer's gonna have a field day with you pigs." 16 » She reaches into her purse and produces a pair of black handled kitchen shears. I grab his little toe with my left hand. "Hey!" he shouts. 17 » "Clay, I feel compelled to convince you that I am not a police officer." I remove his right sock and hold my hand out to Bluebird. 17 » "The right foot I think," I say. Clay looks puzzled as I kneel and begin unlacing his rather unhygienic sneaker. "What you doin'?" he asks. 17 » "I know you're cops," he says with a smirk. "So I know you can't do none o' this." I really hate smirkers. 17 » Clay, Jason's brother, is tied to a chair. He's 5'6", shaved bald, and tattooed almost everyplace except his tongue. The human drop cloth. 17 » "I believe we can convince him he's made a mistake." Bluebird nods and pats her satchel of a purse. We cross to the door, Ferret opens it. 17 » We go to an abandoned three-story, enter the cellar through an outside entrance. Ferret nods toward a closed door. "He thinks we're cops." 17 » Ferret says he has Jason's brother nearby. "He say he don't know nothin', but he ain't sellin' me." 18 » Lots of eyes on a street that reeks with despair. Ferret is waiting in the shadow of a store front. Bluebird parks the car and we emerge. 18 » Antonio & Cole. Once attractive small family dwellings big lawns now overgrown, cars on blocks, burned out buildings. 18 » Chapter 6. Shortly after an all-meat chili fest I enjoyed while Bluebird nibbled a lettuce leaf, Ferret called. A meet at Antonio & Cole. 18 |
|
↑ 5 |
Ferret told us to go enjoy the sights and he'd get to us when he had a lead. We drove around, went down to the beach, and are wiggling toes. 5 » We'll call Hammer's local guy Ferret because he sort of looks like one and is good at catching rats. He's a skip tracer. 10 » I wandered to this side of the question, then that side, finally answering this way: "We're only doing the jobs that cops don't want to do." 13 » "He knows a guy," Bluebird announced. "He'll be here in twenty minutes. Hammer asked a question I couldn't answer. We working for the cops?" 16 » She answered the phone just then relieving me of the task of answering her question. It felt like Meifeng and Mirabeth were now the clients. 19 » "I'm sure Hammer knows a guy," said Bluebird reaching for her cell. While it rang, she looked at me. "Sure we're not getting in too deep?" 21 » "We're going to need a local who knows the gangs, particularly the Cats and Dogs. Does Hammer have someone?" 23 » They turned out to be Jason's, but Jason's gone and nobody knows nothin' about him or his whereabouts. It was time to ask some questions. 24 » He stood there while the crime scene techs, spot-by-spot, tested every single bit of spatter. Four of the spots were not Granny's 26 » When her clothing had been tested, they found nothing but her blood on it. Recently, on his own authority, the mark ordered new tests. 29 » Jason of the Dogs Gang was a low-rung banger heavily into drugs and into doing whatever he was told. Granny Chang had been stabbed to death. 30 » Bluebird said that the investigative assumption was that the killing and abduction were gang-related. The Jason DNA connection supports it. 34 » No company, no jobs, no support for anything, then Patricia left, then, a year ago, David Chang took his own life. What hath Jason wrought? 35 » Meifeng Chang was murdered, Mirabeth was kidnapped, and no one knew anything. It broke David Chang, without him there was no company. 38 » Training, employment, support for local events and programs; The Chang family was looked upon as a community asset. Then disaster. 40 » Everybody, though, liked David Chang, or at least respected him. When his company began making money, he didn't move out of the area. 51 » We'll call the gangs the Dogs and the Cats. Both gangs are heavily into distributing drugs and do not like each other. Jason was a Dog. 52 » Antonio, where the Changs lived, was a development dating back to the '60s. Three years ago, as now, it falls in between two gang turfs. 57 » While Bluebird checked the rest of the house and tried to organize some coffee, I sat down and began wading through the materials. 1 hour ago » Across the hall from the tiny living room was the dining room, and on the cheap maple table were several files and a cardboard box. 1 hour ago » The house was even less imposing on the inside. Cheap and minimal everything, an old 19" TV in front of a chair the sole extravagance 1 hour ago » "Who has also never been arrested," she countered. I had been taken into custody once years ago. Never going to live that down. 1 hour ago » "'Come into my parlor' said the spider to the fly" quoted Bluebird after I'd showed it to her."Oh ye of little faith," I quoted back. 1 hour ago » >>Blackbird, this key's for you. Keep it until you're done. Thought you'd be uncomfortable at the station. You can stay here if you want. 1 hour ago » When we got to the boxy little ranch on Starwood Street, I began feeling better about the key under the mat. There was a note with it.. 1 hour ago » Chapter 5. I called ahead and the detective said he had copies of the case files at his home on the dining room table. Key under the mat. 1 hour ago |
|
↑ 4 |
A run, a shower, then we'll see if the detective can accept a little help. 5 » Now all I have to do is figure out how to become a police consultant without getting a net dropped over me. Have to convince the mark, too. 10 » Once we clear the case, then I can off the cop, in-the-line-of-duty, and go home. I call Cloud back and tell him the contract's still on. 12 » And the man left trying to track down the scumbag who did this is a man doing it on his own time which is rapidly running out. 14 » The lives of all those who depended upon them changed. My occupation is taking out scumbags for hire. And whoever did this is a scumbag. 16 » Later news story. Valley Software, David's company, went into the crapper. Sixty-one jobs in the crapper. David and Patricia now divorced. 20 » Mirabeth and her mother both got their large liquid eyes from Grandma Meifeng. And there is a picture of my mark talking to Patricia Chang. 27 » A couple of arrests that bought new suits for a couple of lawyers. Grandma's given name was Meifeng. It means "Beautiful Wind." Pictures. 34 » Why should the media care? If the media doesn't care, why should we? reasoned the police authorities. A few interviews that went nowhere. 53 » The media figured it all came down to city gang violence, and nothing ever gets done about that except night basketball. 54 » Well, it was a neighborhood edging into roughness, two drug gangs moving into the area, each seeking exclusive control. 57 » Next are those abducted by close family members, often to rescue them from an impossible home environment. The murder of Grandma Chang? 59 » Mirabeth was one of dozens of children who disappeared in the city that year. The media was as jaded as the cops. Most are runaways. 1 hour ago » Not much in the media. Mirabeth Chang didn't have blond pigtails and media-savvy parents. The local media hardly noticed. 1 hour ago » Ball Scores? Everybody won last night: Yankees, Boston, and the Dodgers. I put in a search for Chang murder-abduction. 1 hour ago » Message from Cloud: Well, with expletives deleted, Bluebird ratted me out and Cloud wants to pull the contract."Later," I message him. 1 hour ago » Message from BBL. The Catchup Page has the first three chapters. Easier to read the old tweets from there. The link is: http://www.sff.net/people/bblongyear/TwitMysteryCatchup.html 1 hour ago » I had toast and coffee sent up to my room, cranked up my iPad, and went through my usual eye openers. Messages, ball scores, accounts, etc. 1 hour ago » Chapter 4. What a miserable night. Between the Diet Cokes and my head buzz I only slept for perhaps three hours. 1 hour ago |
|
| ↑ 3 |
I yawn as delicately as I can. Jet lag overwhelms me and it's time to hit the sack. Tomorrow is going to be very weird. 8 » "What about the cops---the ones who are looking for you?" she asks. "I'm careful," I answer. "As much as is possible." 8 » "I think the followers get something out of it and it gives me some persons to which I can talk. I don't have many friends, you know." 8 » "Everyone thinks it's nuts, including your current target, the cop!" I am quiet for a long time. 8 » Considering the number of times she's saved my life, I should pay better attention to her counsel. Which brings us once more to tweets. 8 » The hotel room is fine and within three blocks of one of the greatest Mexican restaurants in the world. We just poked at the food, though. 8 » Bluebird sometimes has a rather vulgar way of expressing herself. A room, dinner, to bed, and some hard thinking. 9 » "Tomorrow it gets dangerous. We go to his house and he briefs us on a case. Then we go help him find a killer." 9 » "He's a cop, you're a hitter, he knows you're a hitter, and he's the one you're supposed to hit. Seemed dangerous to me." 9 » When I get back to the car, Bluebird is a mite edgy. "I don't see why you're so nervous." She puts away her .357. 9 » Recent DNA testing points toward a fellow named Jason, but Jason has been in the wind since August 2009. It's a cold case. 10 » The detective has been busting his hump on the case from day one, and the girl, presumed dead, caught his heart. 10 » Chapter 3. 5:37PM. The four year old case involves the abduction of a five year old girl and the murder of her grandmother. 10 |
|
| ↑ ↑ 2 |
"Tell me about the case you're working on---the one you need cleared before you fall in the line of duty." 14 » "My pension doesn't pay off if I commit suicide." I purse my lips and nod. "For your boy." He nods again. "For my boy." 14 » He looks at me. "You're not going to kill me, are you?" Now I shrug. "I haven't made up my mind. Why not go cheap and eat a bullet?" 14 » "Is it true the Chinese are going for an interest in the Dodgers?" I ask. He nods. "That's what they say. I'll be dead before it happens." 14 » "You a Dodgers fan?" I ask. He nods and smiles sheepishly. "For my sins." I take a deep drink of my Coke. I really like this guy. 14 » "You're ahead in the AL East right now. Seems to change back and forth with Boston twice a month." 14 » He nods. "He pitches. The kid can already throw in the eighties. You follow baseball?" I nod. "Yankees fan." 14 » When he said that, he gave a guilty little tell. "I think you've seen your son," I say. "Maybe he didn't see you. Go to the games?" I ask. 14 » He sips at his drink and puts it down. "Two ex-wives and a son who thinks I'm a fascist pig. Haven't seen any of 'em in years." 14 » "I don't plan to do either," I answer. I shrug. "Okay, if I were in your shoes, the bullet would probably be better. You got family?" 14 » The mark says, "I got cancer. Bad shit. Inoperable. What would you rather do, get shot in the line of duty or fade out in some hospice?" 14 » After sipping at the Coke, I face him and say, "You're the client, aren't you? You want to hire me to kill you." He sat still for a minute. 14 » The bartender says, "What'll it be, Mac?" I order a Diet Coke and, surprisingly, the bartender doesnt joke. He turns and gets the drink. 14 » I walk up, "Mind some company?" He looks up at me, smiles widely and gestures at the stool next to him. "Didn't know you'd come," he says. 14 » Four in the bar: an early bird, a couple who have to be from Mass, and the mark. He's sitting at the bar, a brandy in front of him. 14 » Chapter 2. Chu's is like a million other bars in the world: Dim, dark, smelling of stale beer, and a kind of quiet you only get afternoons. 14 |
|
↑ ↑ 1 |
"You going to do him here?" I shake my head. "No. I'm going to go have a Diet Coke." I get out, close the door, and walk toward the door. 14 » After he goes inside, Bluebird parks on the other side of the small lot. "Wait for me," I tell her. This won't take long. 15 » I want to make certain that what I suspect is the case. Before reaching the expressway, he turns and parks behind a bar called "Chu's." 15 » I shake my head again and point at the rear of the fiesta. No cops, no gadgets, no waiting guns to take us down. I ought to go home. 15 » "What if the cops know about this? They know the mark, where his haunts and home are, that we're following him? That a net I see up there?" 15 » I shake my head. "Not a good idea. That would be a violation of trust," I declare. "You mean, common good sense," she adds. 15 » "How many followers?" she asks, I look over. "Right now it looks like 28." "That's few enough to background check," she suggests. 15 » "You still doing that tweet thing?" she asks as she turns a corner bringing the Fiesta back into view. "I am. It helps me think." 15 » "I know where he lives," says Bluebird. "So do I," I answer. "What I don't know is where he's going now." We follow. 15 » I tell Cloud I'll get back to him on the contract. I point at the mark's vehicle, fading into the distance. "Follow that car." 15 » Cloud wants to know if I'm dumping the contract, minus expenses. I am silent for a long time as I think. I smell a rat. A big blue rat. 15 » "To hell with it, then," I retort. "He's been misrepresented and who knows how long it'll take to clear his case. Can't sit here forever." 15 » Cloud says he got a message from the client about half an hour ago. Before the hit, let the mark clear the case he is presently on. 15 » While we sit there wondering where to go from there, Cloud calls. I open my cell and hold it to my ear. "What is it, Cloud?" 15 » "A younger really depressed James Hong," I answer. The mark looks around again, then goes to the parked cars and gets into a '08 Fiesta. 15 » "Kung Fu Panda?" She asks. "Yeah. The actor who did the voice of the goose who ran the noodle shop." "You mean James Hong?" She asks. 15 » "Or at least his record is," I complete. "I don't get it. According to Cloud, this guy is Attila the Hun on crack. He looks like Po's papa." 15 » We've done everything including going through his personnel jacket. By the way, that's going to cost you two grand. He's clean, or--- 15 » I lower the binocs to my lap. "What about the graft, the police brutality? He was supposed to have beaten a prisoner to death." 15 » "That would get him another medal, not a bullet in the head," I say. "You got any dirt?" She shakes her head. "Nothing proven." 15 » "What've you got?" I ask her. "Detective sergeant, seven top decorations, cleared a lot of cases, nine years short of retirement." 15 » She hands me a pair of binocs and I look. Late forties, slender, 5'11", almond eyes, dark complexion, drawn expression. Looks around a lot. 15 » Where did all those government trillions go? "There he is," she says. "In the jeans and tan sportcoat." 15 » I hope the front is more attractive than the rear. Smoke blackened brick, rusted grating over the windows, a door almost bare of paint. 16 » She pulls in an ally to the rear of a police station and parks across from the entrance. "A couple minutes," she says glancing at her watch. 16 » You'd have to be pretty old to remember Susan Hayward at twenty, and she looks a lot like Susan. Drives like a maniac, too. 16 » We can call her Bluebird again. Imagine Halle Berry at twenty. Fun, isn't it? Well, Bluebird doesn't look anything like Halle Berry. 16 » She says she can get me anything short of a Stinger anti-aircraft missile. "We can hold off on the guns for now. Show me the mark," I say. 16 » Look at this place! Aside from all the girls in Bikinis, what's the attraction? Heat? Smog? Taxes? Gang wars? Earthquakes? Guns? 16 » Why do I never see typos until they've been published? Anyway, there's a pretty young thing holding up a sign saying, "Old Crow." We're off. 16 » Is this plane never going to park? "You mean you kill bugs?" he asks. "Pests," I answer. "You know what a pest is?" He becomes very quiet. 17 » "If I have to eat, I eat. If I have to sleep, I sleep." He means what do I do for a living. I hate to lie to children. "An exterminator." 17 » Nosy kid next to me wants to know what I do. "That depends on what I have to do," I answer. What's that mean, he wants to know. "Well . . . 17 » Chapter 01. 10:55AM (Pacific Time). After an abominable flight involving crying babies and puking passengers, we have landed. 17 |
|
| ↑ ↑ ↑ Intro |
"A real killer wouldn't tweet what he's doing to everyone, would he?" she demands. "You're right," I answer. *Click* boarding call. Thank G. 39 » "I'm writing a novel," I tell the woman. "A mystery. Sorry if Janey got upset." Things quiet down. Janey is still trying to see my iPad. 45 » Something fishy about this job. Don't know what yet. Girl's mother wants to know what I'm writing. Janey is a snitch. 49 » My plane to the west coast boards in a few minutes. And I wanted to fill you in on the situation. Little girl trying to read my tweets. 56 » Cloud says the client knows about my "No good-guys" rule, and knows he'll have to cover my expenses while I investigate. 1 » If one believed the information contained in the file, this detective should have been erased years ago. Graft, routine torture, and murder. 1 » The client paid 100% up front, and, as usual is anonymous. Before agreeing, I needed see the mark's bad-guy bona fides. Cloud sent the file. 1 » 9:12AM; Blackbird: "A HITMAN'S LOT" Cloud called me with a different assignment: A cop. Make it look like it's in the line of duty. 1 |
Kindle |
|
 |
|
| Top of Page | ||
| aTwitMystery Archive Index |
||
| "Breach
of Contract" A
Blackbird Tale by Barry B. Longyear |
||
| "A
Hitman's Lot" A Blackbird Tale by
Barry B. Longyear |
||
| "The Milk Run" A Blackbird Tale by Barry B. Longyear |
||
| The Sunday Papers: Poetry of a Serial Killer by Barry B. Longyear | ||
|
9.7.2008: 150
|