Some Degree of Murder (17 page)

“What’s Rowdy look like?”

Grace laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“He looks like Howdy Doody,” she said. “That puppet from the fifties, you know?”

I reached out and guided her to turn around. As I unlocked the first cuff, I asked, “Anyone else come around asking about the girl that was with Blonde Toni?”

Grace paused and I knew the answer was yes. I stopped after uncuffing one wrist and waited for her to respond.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “A few days ago.”

I uncuffed her other wrist. “What’d he want to know?”

She turned around to face me, rubbing her wrists. “If she was working. Who was pimping her. And if anyone was hassling her.”

“This guy, was he kinda beefy?”

“Yeah, kinda. In the chest. Not fat, though.”

“Did you ever see him before then?”

“Nope.”

“Since?”

“Huh-uh. I didn’t think much of it. We talked, had a sort-of date and he left.”

“Sort of date?
Did he try to hurt you at all? Choke you?”

“No, but let me tell you something. He’s dangerous. I could tell.”

“Think he could kill someone?”

“Oh, yeah. No doubt about it. But he was decent to me. When we finished, he went back to looking for his little girl and I went back to work.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “His little girl?”

“Yeah, baby,” Grace said, tapping Fawn Taylor’s picture. “He said he was her daddy.”

When the white taxi arrived, I flopped into the back seat and rubbed my eyes. “What’s up, Axel?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but Axel isn’t working tonight.”

I dropped my hands and stared at the kid driving. He wore the same white shirt and black tie that Axel wore, but his brown hair was conservative and he had the bright face of youth.

“Where’s Axel?”

“He’s off most nights. I lease his cab from him when he’s not driving. Where can I take you, sir?”

“The Palms Motel.”

The kid nodded and turned around in his seat. He dropped the car into gear and pulled quickly away from the curb.

“Any music tonight, sir?”

“No thanks,” I said absently before looking up at the kid who was driving. “What’s your name?”

“Damon,” he said, but kept his eyes on the road.

“Damon, did Axel teach you how to drive a cab?”

His eyes flashed to the rear view mirror. “Yes, sir.”

I leaned back and smiled. My luck was finally changing.

After paying for the ride, I quietly walked up the stairs to my room in the Palms. I opened the door and stepped into the dark room, closing the door behind me. No light from neighboring neon signs slipped in past the drawn curtains. In the stillness of the room, I smelled a mixture of body odor, liquor and leather.

“Don’t fucking move,” the voice growled at me from the darkness.

Something stirred to my left and I turned a second too late. A blow crashed across my jaw, forcing me further into the room and onto the floor.

“Get him
!” a voice boomed.

Hands grabbed at me and I threw punches wildly in the darkness. Someone kicked me hard in the ribs and I let out a loud cough of air. I rolled over to push myself up and a ton of bricks slammed on to my back, pinning me to the floor. A hand slid its way into my hair and bounced my head off of the floor several times.

A voice giggled in the darkness.

“Shut up, Doc,” the first voice ordered.

Doc’s laugh snapped off.

“Mikey, you got the prick?”

A low voice over my shoulder answered back. “Yeah.”

“Want I should hit the lights?” Doc asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

The room lit up with a flash. I tried to lift my head to look around but Mikey slammed my face into the carpet. The taste of blood washed around in my mouth as I tried to count the voices. Through the muck and mire in my brain, I counted three voices. Mikey, Doc and the boss.

“Doc, pull the chair over near Mikey.”

I heard a chair drag across the carpet.

“Mikey, give ‘em one good shot in the kidney to put him straight.”

I tried to brace for the blow, but still almost wet myself when Mikey’s fist thundered down on the back of my right kidney.

“Doc, give him a hand lifting the cocksucker up.”

The two of them hoisted me up and dropped me into the chair. I glanced around the room and saw the three of them. Each had dirty jeans, black leather jackets and long greasy hair. The one in front of me stood across the room, his arms folded across his chest. A spider-web tattoo spread out around his neck.

The one to my left had a goofy smile that revealed several missing teeth. His eyes lit up in excitement when I glanced at him. He stood between me and the door.

On my right was a monster of a man. A mixture of fat and muscle, his head was almost twice the size of mine. He sneered at me when my eyes met his. A hand whipped across my face and sent shock waves through my teeth.

“Don’t look at me,” Mikey growled.

I lowered my head and swept my eyes around the room, looking for anything to help.

“What are you doing?”

When I didn’t answer, Doc grabbed me by the back of the hair. “Razor asked a question.”

I lifted my eyes up to Razor, the boss of the three-man crew as he spun around a ring on his right hand.

“Are you fags going to gang rape me?”

Doc yanked my head back as Razor jumped across the room. His hand crashed into my cheek and his ring tore a chunk of flesh from my face. I could feel the blood immediately cascade down my face and neck.

“We ain’t in prison, bitch. Ain’t none of us fags.”

“Except Doc,” Mikey joked.

Doc let go of my hair and pointed at Mikey. “Shuddup, you fuck.”

Mikey laughed, but kept a tight grip on my arm.

“Doc, you better grab….”

I swung my left arm at Razor, catching him with a glancing blow across his chest. He fell backwards as I struggled to stand up. Doc latched on to my free arm, stopping my momentum. Mikey leaned in and head-butted me in the forehead. I collapsed back into the chair.

Razor scrambled back over to us and climbed on top of me. His hand snaked into my hair, where he grabbed hold and then slammed his fist into my face four times. Razor shoved himself off of me and stood.

I ran my tongue over my teeth and found a couple were broken on the left side of my mouth.

Razor pointed at Doc. “Don’t ever let go of him again.”

Mikey squeezed tighter around my right bicep. My hand went numb from the pressure.

“Who sent you down here?”

“No one,” I said and felt blood dropping on to my chin.

Razor’s hand shot out and slapped me across the face.

“Why’ve you been watching the clubhouse?”

I shook my head, trying desperately to clear the fog of pain. “I haven’t.”

“Wrong answer,” Doc said.

Razor spit in my face. “We’ve been watching you watching us.”

My head felt heavy and I dropped it down. Razor’s black boots were scuffed and his jeans were tattered at the legs.

His hand grabbed my face and Razor tilted my head up to meet his eyes.

“Our girls have been reporting back that there’s some
sonuvabitch asking questions about a girl and our club.”

I noticed inside the spider-web tattoo on Razor’s neck was a long, ugly scar that ran across his throat.

“And just this afternoon, one of our crew got hisself killed.” Razor jabbed his finger at me. “I think you had something to do with that.”

“I didn’t kill anybody.”

Razor slapped me hard across the face. “You lyin’ sack of shit. Who’s the girl you’re asking about?”

I lowered my head and let the blood in my mouth run out. “
My daughter. I’m gonna find the guy that murdered her and kill him.”

Razor lifted my head up again. “You know who that is?”

”Yeah.”

“Is he one of our crew?”

I nodded.

“
Did you kill Sammy G?”

I glanced over to Mikey and smiled.

“Don’t look at me, cocksucker.”

Mikey’s eyes raged as I kicked upward into the Razor’s balls. Razor grunted and fell to his knees.

“What the - ?” Doc squealed.

Mikey let go of my arm with one hand to punch me in the face. I pulled away and leaned forward. Mikey’s punch glanced off of the back of my neck, sending shockwaves to my brain.

I pushed out of the chair with Doc still latched on to my arm. With a quick shove, I buried two fingers into his right eye socket and yanked out his eye.

Doc shrieked in horror and covered his face with both hands. I spun around to face Mikey as he punched me hard in the chest. My legs back-pedaled for a moment before I crashed over the bed. He followed me and landed on the floor next to me. As his hands scratched for my neck, I grabbed the telephone from the nightstand next to the bed and brought it down across his temple.

Mikey’s hands tightened around my throat and I continued to pound his head frantically with the phone.

Doc screamed in the corner and I knew Razor would recover at any moment.

The phone’s plastic housing started to disintegrate from the blows and I felt darkness creeping in around the edges of my consciousness. Mikey’s fingers squeezed harder amid Doc’s screams.

I brought the phone across Mikey’s temple one more time before his grip went slack. His remaining weight dropped on to my chest, pinning me to the floor. Over his shoulder, I saw the leader of the crew standing with a straight razor in his hand.

I squirmed to get free of Mikey’s weight.

“You cocksucker,” Razor yelled, spittle flying everywhere.

He stepped forward and I lashed out a leg at him. His hand arced downward and I felt a sudden burning in my shin.

“Get him,” Doc squealed from the corner.

When I broke free of Mikey’s weight I rolled over and pushed up. A burning sensation followed a thump across my back and I knew Razor had hit me again. I spun around and lifted my arms to protect my face.

The razor slashed through my flesh and I let out a surprised squeal. I jumped at Razor and tied up his arms as we crashed to the floor. We wrestled around as Doc kicked at me, one hand covering the bloody mess of his eye.

The blade cut my hands several times before I ripped it away from Razor. Once in my hand, I lashed out at Doc and caught him in the face with the razor. He stumbled backwards and crashed onto Mikey.

I drove the blade across Razor’s throat, tracing the old scar’s path. The blade was buried so deep I snapped off the handle. I threw it to the side as Razor gurgled and clutched at this throat.

With a quick turn, I latched onto Doc and brought my arm across his throat. I pulled tight, crushing his windpipe with my forearm. He clawed at my face and kicked wildly for a few moments. When Doc finally died, I pushed him away from me and let him fall face first into the wall.

Mikey was still out cold so I grabbed a pillow from the bed and covered his face. He never fought back, but slipped in to that permanent darkness almost peacefully.

I sat on the ground and listened to the silence. Some nosey neighbor had to have heard the fighting and Doc’s frantic shrieking. I tried to get up but fell to my knees. From my gut I felt a burning and tried to hold it down, but I was unable. I puked all over the carpet in my room.

Carefully, I stood and considered dusting the room, but thought better of it. I grabbed the broken handle from the straight razor and the remnants of the telephone. Any other prints I’d left in the room could be explained away as a prior tenant.

With the front of my shirt, I opened up the door. While holding it by the edges, I hung a
Do Not Disturb
sign on the doorknob. Carefully, I pulled the door shut as I slipped out into the hallway. I hurried away from the hotel and into the darkness behind it. For several blocks, I ran along the train tracks that cut through the heart of the Sprague district. I stopped behind a small, one-story building and wiped off the telephone and razor handle as best I could with my shirt. An old plastic shopping bag was caught up in a nearby bush. I worked it free and put the telephone in it along with the broken handle, careful not to add any more prints.

Grabbing the open end of the bag, I threw it and its contents onto the roof of the small building.

I leaned against the back wall and felt my body sigh in pain from various wounds. My clothes were covered in blood and I was leaking more. I needed an ally.

Music pounded through the speakers as I stepped in through the back door of the Club Tip Top, ignoring the big white letters on the outside that announced “NO ENTRANCE.”

I peeked into the dressing room and one girl was getting dressed. A moment later I stood at the mouth of the hallway, my eyes searching the room for her.

She was seated at the bar with a Coors Light in front of her on the bar. She wore a green silk robe around her body that revealed the green dragon tattoo that lived on her right thigh. I stood in the semi-darkness of the hallway hoping to catch her eye.

Gina was in a mild conversation with a clean-cut family man in a polo shirt and khakis. He stared intently at Gina as she talked with a smile.

From behind the bar, George poured drinks while chatting with the fat dancer I’d seen earlier. Up on the stage, a cracked-out black girl vibrated to some rap song.

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice asked with a tap on my shoulder.

I glanced over my shoulder at the dancer from the changing room. The brunette wore a white terrycloth robe that hung open in the front to reveal a red, white and blue bikini. A soft stomach pushed out over the top of the bikini bottoms.

“I need to get by,” she said with a smile that quickly faded. “What happened to your face?”

“Car accident. Can you get Gina for me?”

The dancer backed up. “Listen, buddy, I don’t think that’s a good idea. ‘Sides, she’s with a customer.”

“She knows me. Tell her it’s Virgil.”

She eyed me for a moment before slipping past and hurrying over to Gina. She whispered in Gina’s ear for a moment before heading towards the stage.