The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 (17 page)

“Gary?”

The man in the mask didn’t answer him. Instead, he continued holding the gun on Clutch. He was almost daring him to make a move. “Gary, you don’t want to do this. You want to put the gun down and we can talk about this.” Clutch said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. It had been years since the seasoned cop had worked in hostage negotiation but he was trying his damndest to remember as much as he could about it at that moment.  

“You have no idea what I want to do. You don’t know all the answers and you don’t know me.” Berndt said as he kept the gun aimed at Clutch.

Mclutcheon noted that Berndt still had a slight German accent. He felt that it was a good sign that Berndt engaged with him. Clutch knew the best thing he could do was keep him talking. “I see you have on a mask of shame. Looks like the kind I saw in a museum once  in Rothenberg ob der Tauber. Did you grow up around there?”

“I’ve been there. Many times in my youth. Back then, I could only imagine what I would do later. How much I would enjoy making people suffer.” Berndt laughed.

“But making people suffer wouldn’t have pleased your grandmother.”

“Leave her out of this! You didn’t know her. You don’t know what she would’ve wanted.”

“OK.” Clutch said as his heart leaped into his throat. He was afraid Gary would shoot him any moment. “Let’s talk about Macy and Monica.” He said. “Now, I’m just going to sit down on the edge of the bed and we can talk.”

“No. You stand there where you are. We can talk while you stand.”

“Alright.” Clutch said softly with his hands still raised. He tried to keep his voice quiet and pleasant. The louder Berndt would get, the softer Clutch would respond. That lesson had been drilled into him early on with the force. It was almost police procedure 101.

“What drew you to Sun apartments? Why did you go there to pick up those women?” Clutch asked calmly. It was quite a trick to act relaxed with that much adrenaline rushing through your veins. He thought of the basic three reactions in this type of situation: fight, flee or freeze. At that moment Clutch felt like doing all three at once.

“Convenience. I knew someone who lived there once upon a time.”

“They were innocent and you killed them. They had their whole lives ahead of them.”

“They were whores! They needed to pay for that! All women are whores!” Berndt screamed. The gun in his hand began to shake and Clutch could see that he was in a rage.
Oh God, get me through this.
Clutch tried to swallow but his mouth was bone dry. He pushed himself to say something, anything really, to calm Berndt down. “You’re right Gary. Women are whores. That’s why I never married.”

“Women are temptresses. They woo men with their sexuality. Macy and Monica were like that. Carol was too but she was the one that got away. Goddamn bitch.”

“Well, what about Flo? What happened to her Gary?” Clutch asked. He was still standing there completely nude with his hands held high looking at the menacing figure right in front of him. Suddenly, something caught his eye. Something was moving across the carpet toward Berndt. It was white and fluffy and had very green eyes which were focused on Clutch. It came to a stop directly behind Berndt and sat down. Happy. Gary Berndt had no idea that the cat was behind him. It gave Clutch an idea. He would have to be fast and time it just right but Clutch thought he might know of a way out of the situation.

“Flo was a street walker. A real whore. She lured men and serviced them. I have no use for her.” Berndt said.

“I have no use for that bitch you hang around either. What’s her name? Tasha?” Berndt asked as he glanced up at the ceiling.

The time was now. Clutch reasoned that if the plan worked, he would be safe. If not, he would be dead. He better play it just right.

He opened his eyes wide and looked at an empty space over Berndt’s right shoulder. “Hey! Get back! Don’t come in here! He’s got a gun!”

The next few moments were a blur of action. Berndt looked over his shoulder to the very spot that Clutch was fixed on. Mclutcheon pounced like a cat, landing on top of Gary Berndt and the mask of shame sailed across the floor. The two men fell to the floor struggling for the gun which was still in Gary’s hand. Clutch held Gary’s arm trying to keep him from aiming his weapon. With his free hand, Clutch punched Gary as hard as he could in the nose. He felt bone crunch as blood squirted all over the floor. “You son of a bitch!” Clutch screamed at Gary. He grabbed for the gun which had flown from Berndt’s hand. Gary was still fighting as blood ran down his face. His efforts proved futile, however, because Clutch had the gun. He pushed it into Berndt’s gut and pulled the trigger. Clutch heard the pop and watched as Berndt’s eyes opened as wide as saucers. Gary began to make gurgling noises as blood rushed into his mouth. “Alright, you bastard. Where is Flo?” Clutch asked as he pressed hard on the bullet wound. He turned Gary’s head to the side and blood flowed down his cheek. “Where is she?” Clutch screamed.

Gary stared up at the man lying on top of him and laughed. The cracks between his teeth were bloody and his lips curved up into a hideous smile. “Where is she motherfucker!” Clutch screamed again.

“Sie werden sie nie mals finden” he whispered through the gore which was, once again, collecting in his mouth.

“What does that mean? Where is she?” Clutch yelled, shaking Berndt and leaning in on his bullet hole once more.

“You will never find her.” Gary said with all the strength he could muster. Clutch watched as the man took his last breath and the life behind his eyes died.

For the second time, Daniel A. Mclutcheon held a dying, gut shot man in his arms. This time he wasn’t a damn bit sorry.

CHAPTER 33

Dan Mclutcheon was on his hands and knees in his bedroom trying to wash a huge blood stain out of his carpet. He was just about to decide it was no use when he heard a knock on his front door. As he descended his stairway, he looked out the window to see Tasha Yoder standing on the other side of the door. Grabbing his keys from the huge wooden chest in his foyer, he unlocked the bolt and twisted his doorknob.

“Hey kid!” he said beaming at Tasha.

“Jesus, Clutch. Are you alright?” she said rushing across the threshold. She held her arms out and they embraced.

“Never been better. We got the son of a bitch. Case closed.”

“God, it’s all over the news. Hero cop kills DWK. We kept looking for him and finally, he comes to us.”

“Yeah, the bastard was going to kill me with my own friggin’ gun. Thank God Happy showed up. It gave me the idea to fake him out.”

“How is Happy? Is he okay?”

“Oh yeah. Never better. Since he was indirectly responsible for saving my life, I went to the store this morning after they hauled off the body and bought a pound of shrimp. I’m giving him as much as he wants to eat.” Clutch smiled. “Let’s go in the den and sit down.”

The two of them moved through the hallway into the great open area of the kitchen and den. Clutch sat down on the love seat and motioned for Tasha to sit on the sofa. Happy was lying on his back by the fireplace stretched out and sleeping peacefully. “He’s my hero.” Clutch said as he gazed at Happy, smiling.

“Yeah, the news spread like crazy. I learned about it from that kid you’ve been having keep an eye on me. What’s his name?”

“Jerry Tallent.”

“I actually am starting to like him. He came to my apartment and we talked for a bit about it. I was the first person he told. Maybe he’s not creepy after all.”

“Jerry is a good kid. Like I said, he’s just too eager right now but that’ll wear off.”

“Yeah, I guess I won’t need him around anymore.” Tasha said leaning back against the leather sofa.

“Ding dong the witch is dead.” Clutch laughed. “The only thing I regret is that I didn’t find out where Flo is.”

“She’ll turn up one way or another probably.” Tasha assured him. “Hey, by the way, I thought you had a burglar alarm. How did Berndt get in?”

“It went down about a month ago. Hell, I’ve been so busy on this case that I just didn’t schedule to get it fixed. Anyway, they found Berndt’s car out in the parking lot of the neighborhood pool and clubhouse. SOB must’ve walked up from there and then he jimmied my window.” Clutch said, pointing to a glass pane beside the back door. “The lock is broken.”

“Jesus, that was a ballsy move. So he just came in and waited for you up in that closet?”

“Far as I can tell. If I think about it too much, it gives me the willies.”

“Well, I think we can all rest a little easier now. DWK is over. Now, I can go back to regular life.”

“What’s regular life for you, Tasha?”

“Malone’s and Christmas break. There’s a whole bunch of egg nog that’s calling my name!” she said through laughter. Tasha brought her eyes up to meet Clutch’s and discovered that he wasn’t finding it quite as humorous as she.

“Look Tash, I want you to pursue other interests. Get involved in a real relationship with someone. Somebody nice who doesn’t crawl bars all the time. You deserve better than all those barflies you take home with you and don’t even remember their names in the morning.”

“Aw, Clutch. Don’t start. Don’t ruin a good moment.”

“You know the only reason I say anything about it is because I love you. You’re like my own kid. I just worry about you. It’s a high risk lifestyle, Tasha.”

Tasha looked down at her hands which were lying crossed on her lap. She knew that Clutch had a point. That made his comments all the more infuriating. Still, she knew that he had just weathered a very difficult night. She would try to bite her tongue as long as humanly possible.

“It’s a bunch of throwaway relationships if you could even call them that.” Clutch continued. “It’s the married businessman in town for a one night stand or the college boy out for a roll in the hay or the desperate guy who just got divorced from his fourth wife.”

Tasha looked up and met Clutch’s gaze. “Have you heard anything from Buck Shipley?” she asked abruptly, trying to change the subject.

Clutch heaved a huge sigh. He knew he had lost her. “Well, I had Wilder get in touch with them. Of course, they were pleased beyond words that Carol’s abductor had been killed. They want me to come by the hospital so they can thank me in person.”

“You going over there today?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve got something I need to do. As soon as we finish here, I’m heading out.”

“What are you gonna do?” Tasha asked.

“Aw, it’s just something that I should’ve done a long time ago. It’s nothing, really.”

“Alright Mr. Cryptic. Well, I should be on my way, I guess.” Tasha stood up from the sofa and dug her car keys out of her purse. “When will I see you again?”

“Oh, I’ll be around. I’ll be visiting you from time to time. Somebody has to check up on you.” He said laughing.

He followed her back to the front door and opened it for her. “Give me a hug.” He said, reaching out. “Listen, I want you to stay safe.” He whispered in her ear as he squeezed her mid-section.

“Always.”

He watched as Tasha strolled down the sidewalk toward the driveway. In a moment, she was gone.

Clutch closed the door and walked back into his den. He saw his portable phone lying on the coffee table. Grabbing it, he dialed and waited for an answer.

“Morgue. This is David Campbell.”

“Yes! Hello, David! This is Dan Mclutcheon. Are you really busy or do you have a second to talk?”

It was just past three and Clutch was moving along the interstate behind the wheel of his Volvo. He felt good about the decision he finally made. It was something he had been wanting to do for awhile but things would always come up and he’d never get around to it. The events of the previous evening, however, made him take action. He took the first exit he came to after he crossed into Bradley County. Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting in the parking lot looking at the gray building in front of him. He grabbed his wallet and got out of the car pressing the automatic lock on his key chain. The car whistled, letting him know it was secure.

As he walked through the glass front door, he could hear pandemonium in the back rooms. A young man stepped out from behind a wooden counter and walked toward him. “Can I help you sir?” he asked, his expression warm and pleasant. “I’m here to find a new friend.” Clutch said, smiling.

CHAPTER 34

The neon green lights of Malone’s bar were flashing on and off. A leprechaun, perched atop the letter ‘n’ was holding a four leaf clover and smiling down at all the patrons walking in the front door. Tasha Yoder entered the establishment and was almost knocked over by the bank of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. She noted the group of men gathered around the pool tables just as Seamus Malone greeted her from behind the bar. “Hey Tasha!” he yelled. “Shall I start you with your regular?”

Even from several feet away, she could see the gin blossoms on the end of the portly man’s nose as he washed out a beer glass and hand dried it. He was grinning at her with a cigar clenched in his teeth. Seamus never seemed to worry about a health inspection but, since he knew some folks in high places, he never really had to. He grabbed a burger basket from the counter and handed it to a man sitting at the end of the bar. Tasha strolled over, set her purse on top of the dark, rich wood of the bar and took a seat. She smiled at the big Irishman standing in front of her. “I’ll have my usual to start out.” She said as she pulled her cigarette case out of her purse. Flicking her Bic lighter, she lit the end of her smoke and watched as Seamus drew the cold coffee colored brew from the tap. “Stout made just for you, honey.” He said as he laid the foamy liquid before her. “Hey, run me a tab. Will ya?”

“Of course, I always do.” Seamus smiled as the veins stood out on his cheeks and nose.  Tasha thought he looked a bit like Santa Claus if Santa spent most of his down time chugging Irish whiskey.

She sat on her barstool for a good 15 minutes listening to the sounds of lively conversation and laughter. She preferred drinking in a bar to being at home because, in a bar, you weren’t drinking alone even if you were. Somebody had put money in the jukebox and Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” was playing in the background. Tasha thought the song was an odd pick for someone in Malone’s who was doing the exact same thing that all of the poor schmucks were doing in Joel’s song. Tasha felt like “Piano Man” was a song for losers and it always left her with a wicked case of the blues. She took some money from her purse and wandered over to the jukebox. Sliding a couple of dollars in the slot, she selected some Lady Gaga, Patsy Cline and Elton John. She had no idea someone was standing directly behind her, peering over her shoulder. “You have an eclectic taste.”