The Taxman Killeth (17 page)

If Morgan referred to Amy as
Fanny one more time he might take violent action. Then again, maybe it was
preferable that Morgan not remember her name.

“So you never spoke to the guy’s
girl?”

“She said she wasn’t his girl.”

“You spoke to the dark-haired
woman?”

“Dark-haired? Hell, her hair was
as bright as fire. Reddest red-head I’ve ever seen, and it looked natural, too.”

It took Todd a minute to figure
out that Morgan was again referring to Amy and not to Joey’s companion.

“I’m talking about the woman
with that guy. What’s his name?”

“Joey. Joey Landis. She wasn’t
bad-looking either.” Morgan leaned close to Todd and spoke in a low growl. “But
I’ve never had a real red-head before.” He nudged Todd’s arm, which almost
reflexively swung back.

“How often did you see the
dark-haired woman with Joey?”

“What? You interested in Joey
too?”

“Curious.”

“Yeah, that was some way to go.
He must have been chopped meat by the time that partner of his got finished
with him. They say there was blood all over the bathroom walls. At least he put
up a fight.”

Todd’s eyes closed. Joey lay on
the bathroom floor, his chest and abdomen ripped apart. Todd lifted the shot
glass. He hadn’t meant to drink at all. He wanted a clear head, but he downed
the whiskey in one gulp, not bothering to wash it down with the beer.

“You look kind of down and out;
want another?”

“Yeah,” Todd resignedly said.

The bartender filled the glass
to overflowing and slipped another few bills from the stack in front of Morgan.

“Papers are saying it was a drug
deal gone sour. I didn’t know Joey was into that kind of thing. Although the
broad looked a bit high a few times.”

“Didn’t catch her name, did you?”
Given Morgan’s memory in relation to Amy, he knew this question was a long
shot.

“Heard him call her something
once or twice. Might not have even been a real name. He could have said baby or
honey or sweetie or any number of endearments.”

“She had dark hair; remember
anything else about her?”

“You some sort of detective? You
sound like it with all these questions.”

“I told you, I’m curious. I’d
like to avoid that babe; she might be trouble.”

Morgan laughed.

“Doubt you can afford to be so
picky,” he said, looking Todd up and down.

“I’d still like to stay alive.”

“She was good-looking. Good
body, not like Fanny’s. Less generous in the important areas,” he said, making
a hand gesture. “Boy, if those weren’t falsies on Fanny...”

“You’re obsessed.”

“Everyone’s got dreams and
aspirations. Most times, I’m not so particular myself. I guess I don’t have to
tell you the kind of woman that usually hangs out around here. Fanny seemed to
have class. Drank watered-down grape juice. Take forever to get a woman warmed
up with that stuff.”

“How tall was Joey’s friend?”

“You think you know her?”

“I told you...”

“Yeah, you’re curious. Too
curious.”

Todd watched in the mirror as
Morgan squinted at his profile.

“Thanks for the drinks,” Todd
said, rising from his stool. Todd threw back his head and let the cheap amber
liquid roll down his gullet.

“What about the beer?” Morgan
asked.

“I didn’t touch it.”

Morgan slid the beer glass in
front of himself. “Waste not, want not,” he said to the bartender, who was
wiping his hands on a white cotton dish towel.

Todd took himself straight back
to his seedy hotel room. It was only one in the morning. There was still a
brisk business going on; bodies were groping on the staircase and doors were
slamming shut behind bargaining couples. His own room was quiet; evidently his
adjoining tenants were still out soliciting business. The same sweep of
moonlight that had shone through Kay’s bedroom window stretched across his
single bed.

Big difference, he thought,
between what he had planned for tonight and the reality.

Rolling down the ratty coverlet
he exposed the yellowed sheets. Several areas showed signs of having been
darned. He was surprised anyone had bothered. Todd took off his jacket and cap
and threw them on top of the mirrored bureau. There was no chair in the room.
He placed the eye patch on the metal table beside the bed that served as a
night stand. Todd opened the laces on his sneakers and kicked the shoes off
before falling across the mattress.

He wasn’t sure if he had
collected any relevant material. Joey had been alone most of his life. Women
weren’t that important to him except as a physical release. Todd had never seen
Joey with the same woman more than once, and usually he kept them for the late
night hours. He had never brought anyone to social occasions such as Jennie’s
wedding. Joey may have found a steady who agreed with his life style, accepted
what little free time he offered—but it seemed strange that he never mentioned
her to Todd. Todd thought back to the last few months of Joey’s life. Nothing
peculiar came to mind. No special female. As a mater of fact, during the last
month of his life, Joey had flippantly boasted about his numerous conquests.

He tried to visualize the
dark-haired women he had seen lately, but it was difficult, for all he could
recall were golden red curls.

“Fanny!” How could the ass
possibly forget her name. He sure as hell couldn’t.

Chapter 18

Wife-Beater

For several days Amy was
irritable. She wasn’t angry at the world but at herself for allowing Roger
Davidson to spook her. During her evenings at home, she would repeatedly check
the envelope Todd had given her. Amy wanted to know exactly how much money she
had been asked to pass on and whether the sum was large enough for a drug deal.
She knew the amount would mean nothing to her, but the idea that he could
potentially be using her lingered, even when she consciously tried to squash
her skepticism. The next day was Saturday, and she was scheduled to meet Jennie
at the library. It would be difficult to confront his sister. If it was true
that Todd and Michael were dealing drugs, Amy was willing to bet that Jennie
was a pawn like herself.

Amy slept lightly as she had the
previous nights. She woke frequently, imagining a movement in the room or a
hushed knock on her apartment door. She wanted Todd to reach out to her from
the shadows of her bedroom and convince her that he had no bad dealings. Most
of all, she wished to apologize for all her unwanted suspicions. There couldn’t
be any connection between Todd and that scuzzy brother-in-law, she insisted to
herself. Todd was handsome enough and social enough to be a ladies’ man, as
Roger Davidson had suggested, but she was positive Todd didn’t have the brutal
nature of a drug dealer and murderer. Amy cried into her pillow, falling asleep
minutes before her alarm went off.

Dressed in jeans and denim shirt
with a navy blazer, Amy left the apartment to keep her appointment at the library.
She arrived early and found herself a seat at a table near the door, where she
could see all who entered. A magazine lay flat on the table top before her, but
she never read a word. Mothers filed in carrying tots or holding the hands of
their toddling young children. Most of the children were excited. One or two
still had the heavy lids of sleepyheads just awakened. They were separating
from their mothers, finding space on the floor or pushing small chairs into a
semicircle around the librarian. On the hour the story began. Amy looked toward
the door. No Jennie.

Jennie never showed. Amy was
relieved that Michael hadn’t lumbered in with his children in tow. Children
were hesitantly rejoining their mothers. Some carried picture books chosen in
haste or because the cover was particularly colorful.

Amy waited another fifteen
minutes, hoping that Jennie had been delayed but still would keep her date.
When the room had quieted and older children began flooding the library, Amy
had to make a decision. Should she head over to Jennie’s apartment and check on
the young mother, or should she go home and wait for a call? During their last
meeting Amy had given both her telephone number and address to Jennie in case
she or the children should need to reach her.

As much as she detested Michael,
she even worried about him. Certainly if her husband was ill or injured Jennie
would not leave him alone. Amy didn’t think the upstairs neighbors would be
much help.

Amy steeled herself as she
climbed the stairs leading to Jennie’s residence. She knocked loudly on the
door; she didn’t want to give herself a convenient out by tapping and maybe not
being heard. After several raps, Michael pulled the door open. His attire was
the same as on her first visit: lackluster underwear. However, she did spy a
dark red stain on the lower half of the shirt. Michael stood staring at her.

“Is Jennie home?”

“Ah, the librarian.”

“Assistant.”

“Bullshit!” Michael reached out
and threw her against the banister. If she tumbled over, she had a clear drop
to the first floor. Perhaps not enough to kill her, but she assumed she could
be badly hurt.

She attempted to wriggle around
his bulk, but he prevented her from moving, keeping his arms wrapped around her
body, while he held on to the chunky wooden handrail. He pushed his gut into
her abdomen. His breath was hot and stale. His armpits oozed a sour smell that
brought on a wave of nausea in her stomach.

“You don’t learn, do you, bitch?”
He jerked his body quickly.

Amy almost screamed, until she
realized he wasn’t going to toss her over the rail after all. He was trying to
scare her but had sense enough not to want a bloody mess near his doorstep.

“Stay away from my family,” he
hissed. “Or else I’ll come find you.”

She saw a slight movement just
beyond his left forearm.

“Leave her alone,” Jennie
whispered.

“Get back in the house,” he
grunted.

“Not till you let her go.”

Suddenly Michael turned.
Briefly, Amy caught a glimpse of Jennie’s face. It was swollen. Her eyes were
purple, and she had a raw gash above one eyebrow. Then she was gone.

“Her brother would...” hissed
Amy uncontrollably.

Michael returned his attention
to Amy.

“Her brother. That bastard’s got
you tied around his finger, doesn’t he? That’s why you come snooping around,
breaking up my family.”

“You’re responsible for anything
that happens to your family. How could you do that to her? You’re an animal.”

Michael took a handful of her
hair and flung her against a wall. At first she was stunned; then she saw him
swing back his right fist. Amy ducked and drew her knee up between his legs,
hitting her target. She heard him bark out a curse at her as she fled down the
flight of stairs. She was out the front door and running down the street before
she felt the thudding in her head. A passerby offered help, but she didn’t stop
until she reached the busy avenue where she found a cable car to take her home.
There she collapsed onto her living room floor in tears.

Hours later, Amy rested a cold
compress against the side of her head where a lump had formed. She checked
herself in the bathroom mirror and saw no other sign of her confrontation with
Michael, except for the puffiness of her eyelids from crying.

“Damn that bastard,” she cursed
as she put the compress on the edge of the sink. Amy turned on the cold water
tap and threw handfuls of water on her face. The skin cooled, but her gut was
wrenched into a hot seething ball.

When the telephone rang, Amy
grabbed a towel and dried her face. On the fifth ring she picked up.

“Hi, Am.”

“Trudy! What are you calling
for?”

“Sorry. Didn’t know I couldn’t.”

“I apologize. I’m surprised that
you’re calling me on a Saturday night. Normally you’d be out getting your teeth
filled.”

“Funny. The dentist is out of
town. Some convention in Kansas City. I told him to bring me back a box full of
filet mignon. That is the place where it comes from, isn’t it?”

“One of the places.”

“You going to be home later?”

Amy almost said ‘yes’ but paused
to reconsider.

“No. I’m going out.”

“Then you have a date.”

“In a way.”

“Is he as good-looking as that
Todd Coleman?”

“Why mention him?”

“No reason. He was the last guy
you had a date with, that I know of, that’s all. I called because I thought I’d
drop by later for some girl talk and some fattening sweet chocolate mousse from
the bakery near where I live. Remember how much you loved it?”

“Yes, I do. But I’m way to
cranky tonight to be good company anyway.”

“If that’s the case, then it’s
better you spill your spleen on me than on some innocent hunk. Come to think of
it, though, none of them are innocent, are they?”

“This one is,” Amy said, knowing
that Todd would never have made any kind of pact with a woman-beater like
Michael.

“I guess we’ll have to get
together another night, then. Don’t want to keep you from getting ready. See
you on Monday.”

The line went dead before she
was able to say ‘Good-bye.” Amy knew Trudy was miffed at having to spend her
evening alone, but she was determined to find Todd and tell him what Michael
had done to his sister.

By the time Amy reached the bar
where she had found Todd on the previous occasion, she was worrying that she
was taking the wrong tack. She didn’t want Todd to rush to the rescue and leave
himself open to being jailed. But how could she help his sister by herself? If
she talked to Jennie, maybe she’d be able to get her to a safe shelter, if one
really existed.

Her thoughts were broken by
someone waving an arm in her direction; without noticing who the person was she
moved toward the motion.