Some Degree of Murder (12 page)

I heard
the arguing in the backyard when I was half way up the walk. I couldn’t make out the words, so I veered off the walkway and around the side of the house. I loosened my tie and slipped out of my jacket.

The wooden fence groaned when I opened the gate and stepped into the back yard. The arguing ceased. Ben was seated in a lawn chair, a book in his hand. I saw his wheelchair at the back porch. Teri sat in a small kiddie pool, facing Ben, who was studiously ignoring her.

“What’s going on here?” I asked. “The neighbors called in a DV.”

Teri smiled, but Ben’s eyes were fixed to the paperback on his lap and his shoulders hunched over protectively.

“You deaf there, Benjamin?”

“He’s just mad,” Teri told me. “You’re home early.”

I turned my gaze to her. She sat comfortably in the small, blue kiddie pool. The water was to her waist. She wore a swimsuit bottom and a T-shirt. Her hair and shirt were both wet and I could plainly see her breasts outlined by the thin cotton of the shirt. I was suddenly grateful for the sunglasses on my face.

“I took off early. Why’s he mad?”

“Because I want him to have some fun and enjoy the weather.” She removed her hand from the pool and flicked water in Ben’s direction. He ignored her. “It’s not like we get weather this good this early very often.”

“It’s not going to last. I can feel a good rain coming.”

I watched her flick more water at Ben.

“Well,” she said, “I just thought it might be good for Ben
–“

Another flick of water, and a sly smile from her.

“—to experience a little real life. He’s been spending too much time on that computer with his new game.”

Ben closed his book and looked up at her, then over at me.

“Just because I don’t want to go swimming in arctic weather is no reason to splash me.” With that, he turned back to his book.

Teri eyed him for a few moments, then raised both hands from the water and gave him a double flick.

“Teri!” Ben yelled.

“Ben!” she yelled back and broke into laughter.

Ben struggled not to laugh, but Teri’s laughter was so real and so infectious he didn’t have a chance. I found myself grinning as I watched them.

Ben turned to me suddenly and asked, “Uncle John, can we order some pizza tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Can Teri stay?”

“If she wants.”

He turned back to her and she shrugged. “Sure. If grumpy buns here is willing to smile, I guess I can be talked into some pizza.”

She stood in the pool. The water streamed off of her and the T-shirt clung to her body like a second skin. I admired the flat of her belly and curve of her hip. She smoothed her hair back into a ponytail and squeezed out the water. When she pulled the shirt tight and wrung water out of it, I wondered if she were doing it on purpose.

I tore my gaze away from her and headed for the back door.

“You want to call in the order, John?” she asked.

I stopped and turned to face her. She stood in the pool, her shirt still pasted to her body, facing me and smiling. Unabashed. Or innocent. Hell, I couldn’t tell which.

“Pepperoni?”

She nodded, then tilted her head and smiled at me. “Extra cheese?”

“You got it.”

Her smile broadened in thanks.
Then she flicked more water at Ben with her foot.

I turned and headed in the back door.

A late
afternoon rain descended on the city, covering everything in a wetness that would evaporate quicker than hope did on Sprague Avenue. I was in my room at the Palms Motel watching the clubhouse of the Brotherhood of the Southern Cross as well as any action that happened on the street. I’d put a chair next to the window so I could watch comfortably, but far enough back so no one could see me spying on them. The curtains were pulled to the side to maximize the view to outside. I had the television on for a bit as background noise, but quickly decided it was adding to my anger.

The headache I started the morning with was still there, only less jagged and more focused in my sinuses.

Two bikers pulled up in front of the clubhouse on noisy Harleys. They both wore long ponytails, scruffy beards and dirty blue jeans. On their backs they sported leather jackets with the patches of the BSC logo. The two turned off their bikes and ran up to the clubhouse door. The bigger of the two pounded on the front door until it was opened by another dirtball who looked to have been cut from the same cloth. The two nodded at the doorman and squeezed by him. Before the door swung closed, I could have sworn the doorman glanced up at me.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, not wanting to admit that I’d been seen.

After the rain stopped, I ventured out to burn off a combination of impatience and nervous energy.

When I opened the door to the Tip Top club, I was greeted with a blast of cigarette smoke and AC/DC’s
Highway to Hell
. The door swung closed behind me with a loud clang. On stage, a small stripper gyrated her hips to the music. A tight, red thong ran up the cleft of her ass which was thrust towards the table of drunks near the stage. The girl stood up and faced me, showing off small breasts and a red scar that ran down the left side of her face. Her brunette hair was cut short, emphasizing her thin neck and the deep scar. She had a tattoo of a big, green dragon that covered her entire right thigh.

I walked to the bar at the back of the room. A big man stood behind the counter and watched the dancer. He had a dirty, grey beard starting to form on his round face. His mouth hung open as he stared at the stage. He had a broken front tooth which had turned an unattractive black.

Amid cheers from the tables of drunks, the dancer ground her crotch on the pole in the middle of the stage.

“Damn, she’s beautiful,” the bartender muttered.

When the song ended, I turned to the bartender. His eyes flicked over to me. “What’ll it be?”

I pulled out Fawn’s picture and laid it on the bar. His eyes glanced down and then back up at me. “She’s too young,” he said in a husky voice.

“For what?”

“For whatever you want.
Either you’re looking for her or want me to hire her as a dancer. Either way she’s too young.”

“
You’ve never seen her outside?”

“Man, I spend my entire time inside the bar. You see any windows on this joint?”

“Fair enough,” I said and pulled the picture back to me.

“What’ll you have?”

“An Ol’ Granddad’s? Neat.”

“I can do that,” he said. With a clumsy pour, he filled a glass, sat the bottle back on the counter and slid the drink in front of me. The small, brunette dancer sat next to me. She wore a men’s button-down shirt that stopped at mid-thigh. The large blue shirt was several sizes too big for her. Her bare feet dangled below her.

“Hi,” she said with a smile that caused the scar to bunch up on her face.

I nodded and noticed that her eyes were a steel grey.

The music started again, something that sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. I looked over my shoulder and saw a fat woman with long dark hair get up on the stage. She wore a spandex leotard and spun slowly around on the stage. One of the guys at the front table whooped and hollered at her. I shuddered and looked back to the bar.

The dancer on the stool next to me leaned in and whispered, “To each their own.”

I smiled back at her. “Yeah, I guess we all forget that sometimes.”

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Gina.”

“Virgil,” I offered and shook her hand. Then I looked up at the bartender who was watching us closely. I knew the game. “Buy the lady a drink. On me.”

She smiled. “I’ll have a Jack and Coke, George.”

He nodded and fixed her a drink.

Gina’s eyes flashed to the picture on the counter in front of me before snapping back up to me. “You a cop?”

“Why?”

“That picture there. A cop was in here yesterday flashing a picture of one of our girls that was murdered. She was a good friend of mine.”

“I’m not a cop.”

“Then what’s with the picture?”

“She’s my daughter.”

The bartender sat the drink down near Gina’s elbow as she leaned over to look at the picture. A thin film of sweat still covered her face and neck. Her scent was a mixture of musk and moderately priced-perfume.

The bartender moved away from us to the opposite end of the bar.

“I’ve never seen her. How old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

Gina looked around the bar with a confused smile twisted on her lips. “Why are you asking about her here?”

“She was in this area before she was murdered.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She reached out and touched my leg with her hand.

Gina kicked back her drink and stared at the picture of Fawn. I took a deep pull on my Old Granddad and felt the ice clink against my teeth. “How about another?” I asked her.

She nodded absently and I waved over George.

A moment later George pushed a drink in front of each of us. I pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Gina.

Gina turned to look at me for a minute with those steel grey eyes. There was a sadness in them that wasn’t there when I first walked in or when I first met her.

She turned her head away from me, but looked quickly back. Suddenly, Gina grabbed her drink and slipped her hand in mine. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else.” Her voice was shaky, but forceful.

I let her pull me from the stool and grabbed Fawn’s picture. After I tucked it back in my jacket, I grabbed my drink from the counter.

She led me back to a small room that served as the girls changing space. Gina closed the door and slid the lock. She put her drink down on a table and then grabbed mine from my hand to do the same.

“I’m not a whore,” she said.

I nodded and felt my heart beat faster. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt with a woman in a long time.

“I don’t want any money from you.”

“Then why?”

“I’ve seen pictures of two dead girls in two days and that’s more than I ever wanna see again. I guess I just wanna feel good right now.”

She snaked her hand around my neck. Gina pulled my head down to her and kissed me hard on the lips. When we broke, she stepped back and asked, “Will you help me feel alive?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

She unbuttoned the blue shirt she wore and let it fall to the floor. I stepped forward and grabbed her. I kissed her neck and tasted the salty sweat she’d worked up on stage.

I lifted Gina up on to the table, pushing our drinks to the side. She opened up her legs to me as I unbuttoned my pants and let them slide to the ground. Her scent ran through my senses as I closed my eyes and enjoyed her body.

When we were finished, Gina softly patted my chest as she broke our embrace. “Thanks, Virgil.”

She grabbed her drink and took a sip as I pulled my slacks up.

“Anyone tell you that you should be watching the Brotherhood?”

“I was told they were running all of the action in this area.”

“They are and they’re not
forgiving to anyone who says no.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever the Southern Cross patch hits the streets, people get the hell out of their way or pay the price.”

“How do you know?”

Gina finished the last of her drink. “Some of the locals come in here and talk.”

“What about the Brotherhood? Any of them come in and talk?”

“No. They’ve got their own clubhouse. And if they want action, they go into downtown for the nicer bars like Fast Eddie’s or the Red Lion.”

Gina picked up her shirt from the floor. She buttoned it up quickly and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Don’t worry, Virgil. You don’t have to see me again.”

“I think I want to.”

She touched my face as she walked by. “Well, you know where I work.”

Gina opened the door and walked out into the bar. I followed her out and watched her sit back on her stool.

Around eight in the evening, I stood on the corner of Perry and Sprague, smoking a Camel and watching the bungalows across the street. A kaleidoscope of addicts wandered in and out of the small white buildings.

I shook my head and took a drag on my cigarette. My eyes flashed up and down the street, seeing everyone, but waiting for one special person. She rounded a corner from the east and clicked towards me with the same high heels she had on earlier. Her jeans and open flannel shirt were also the same. I sucked on my cigarette, burning it to the butt before flicking into the street.

When Toni got close to me, I turned my head slightly and smiled at her.

“You a cop?”

“I keep getting asked that.”

“That’s because you’ve got clean clothes and a new haircut.”

“I didn’t realize that was a sin.”

“Baby, everything down here is a sin. Looking for something special?”

“Looking for you.”

She grinned. “Ain’t that sweet. You got a car around here?”

“No.”

“We can go to a room, but you gotta cover the charge.”

I glanced up and down the street. “How about around the corner?”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “A dirty boy is hidden in those clean threads.”

I shrugged and smiled at her.

“You done this before?”

“A few times.”

“Good, so you know the drill. What are you looking for?”

“Nothing fancy.”

She slid her hand into mine. “That’ll be forty bucks then.”

“Sounds fair,” I said and led her into an unlit portion of the alley.

Toni spread her legs several feet apart and wriggled her hips. She ran her tongue over her lips in exaggerated sexuality that only worked on the virgins and freaks. “Okay, baby, unleash the demon and I’ll get to work.”

I showed her two twenties.
“I don’t want that. I just want to talk.”

“About what?”

“About my daughter.” I showed her the photo.

“Oh, man.
I’m sorry.”

“I know she was working the strip.
I need to know who was pimping her.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide.

“I need to know.
Either we do this easy, or I’ll ask harder.”

Toni looked up and down the alley and fear entered her eyes.

“Tell me who.”

“The Brotherhood,” she whispered.

“Who in the Brotherhood?”

“Sammy G.
He does their collecting.”

“He was her pimp?”

Toni shook her head. “Not pimp. Collector.”

“He takes a cut of the money?”

She nodded.

“He’s a pimp then. Were you working for him?”

“Yes.”

“Did you pay money to him?”

”Yes.”

“Did he ever screw you?”

“What do you think?”

“Did he ever hurt you?”

She stared for a moment, but the truth was in her eyes.

“How can I find Sammy G?”

“Check the clubhouse.”

“I can’t exactly go in there. What’s he look like? And don’t say long hair and beard because that doesn’t mean shit to me.”

“I don’t know.”

I slapped her hard across the face.
“Don’t play that game.”

Tears welled in her eyes.
“He’s got a birthmark on his face.”

“What else?”

Toni’s eyes flashed to her left
. I followed them to a man just entering the alley. We were in the deep shadows so I knew he couldn’t immediately see us. I leaned in and pointed my finger at her. “Don’t make a sound.”

The man was of medium build he wore a ski jacket that was open in the front. His blonde hair was short and combed to the side. He stood there looking into the darkness of the alley, deciding what to do. He obviously was looking for Toni.