She's not a girl who misses much She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand Like a lizard on a window pane The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors On his hobnail boots Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy Working overtime
Happiness is a warm gun – The Beatles
The
raggedy orange cat leaped from the dumpster to the fence. Despite
having done this maneuver hundreds of times, he misjudged the distance.
His hind paws swiped at the air until they found purchase in the
redwood boards. The necklace he carried in his mouth had thrown him
off. Just as he coated the pants legs of Smash Courts regulars, tufts
of coarse persimmon-colored fur stuck to the wood. Some hairs caught
the light as they fluttered down like dancing flames to the bottom of
the dumpster. They landed on the body where he had taken the necklace.
It had a savory leather cord and a shiny silver racquet charm that
dangled appealingly. Cheeto liked Kim’s minty smell and the way she
always scratched under his chin. But it had been hours since Christian
had deposited her there and her usual odor was long gone.
***
“Before
we get to the Mor--gue, let’s get our story straigh--t” said Sadie, her
words whipping back and forth with the Honda’s urgent turns. “And
please slow down!” she added. “We don’t wanna look guilty or anything.”
“I tell you, laying it out’s not gonna fly” said Nick as he accelerated through another yellow.
“But
telling what you saw could help catch the killer. Explain how you
witnessed a murder by the pier and took the killer’s dropped gun. You
were scared to report it because of your history with the police.” She
chewed her lower lip. “So why d’you think my mom’s creepy friend is
involved in this?”
“I’m realizing he looks like Headband, er, the killer. Best not to mention I jacked his car.”
“Why did you?”
“Like the One Ring, that gun wants to be found! I had to get it out of there fast with that cop nosing around.”
“I’m afraid to find out, but let’s see first if it is my dad in there.”
Sadie’s
face darkened at the possibility that her father might be gone forever.
She’d been really mad at him for leaving them, and he had been a dick
during her “experimental” period. Yet, she could still remember the
feel of his hand stroking her hair when she was little. He would sing
the Beatles song, “The world was waiting just for you....Just a smile
would lighten everything. Sexy Sadie, she’s the latest and the greatest
of them all.” It always comforted her. Although in her The Beatles and Their Time
class, she learned that the song expressed John Lennon’s
disillusionment about a Maharishi’s inappropriate sexual advance toward
one of his students. Typical Dad, getting it wrong...
Nick
caught her expression and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Almost there. If it is your pops, why would that scuzz have iced him?
And what’s his next move?”
***
Nick
pulled in front of the massive grey building. He and Sadie jumped out
and waited for the squad car. Somehow, Nick managed to look casual
leaning against the Honda’s door. Her heart thump-thumped in her chest
at how hot he was. The stone-faced policemen stepped out and Sadie
tried to sound calm as she said “We’re here to identify a body.”
“You
can’t park here,” said an approaching curbside officer, a statuesque
African American woman wearing a reflective orange vest. Just then, the
brown Jeep pulled up.
“Uh,
uh! You can’t stop your car here either,” she shook her head at Julian.
She was getting exasperated when she saw another vehicle slow down by
the other cars until she recognized Jeff. “If this is official
business, you can all park in that lot over there” she waved with her
orange plastic baton.
***
The
corpse was on an examining table with a white evidence sheet draped
over it. The morgue attendant lifted a portion of it away to reveal the
head.
Sadie
shivered in the refrigerator-like room. She was momentarily relieved
that the puffy corpse did not look like her father. “The news mentioned
a ring that sounds like one I’ve seen my dad wear?”
“We
have that back in Evidence,” said Jeff gently. “It does look like one
you mentioned, Bethany.” Bethany shuddered thinking of the gaudy gold
and black diamond signet ring Kyle had been wearing for the last year
or so. She never did get a straight answer about where he’d gotten it.
“Bethany is it? You didn’t mention that you share a first name with your uh friend’s dog, Miss Davis,” said Chen.
Bethany blushed and started to explain, “I prefer using my maiden name since my hus-.”
“She and her husband are separated,” interjected Jeff.
“You know each other?” asked Detective Chen.
“Yes,
we both play at Smash Courts.” That seemed to satisfy Chen, who had
become mesmerized by a button on the examining table that raised and
lowered its height. Whirrr!-Up. Whirrr!-Down. Whirrr!-
“Chen!” Jeff interrupted the inane up and down. Then to Bethany and Sadie, “Any distinguishing birthmarks or scars?”
Bethany said “He has a tattoo on his lower back”
“Dad has a tattoo?!”
“We
got matching ones years ago. Below the waistband, so only we could see
them,” (back when they only had eyes for each other). Bethany pursed
her lips and her eyes narrowed as she pictured Trailer Tits in an
overly tight and low-cut fuchsia dress, laughing and kissing Kyle’s
tattoo.
She
shook off the vision. “On his right side,” said Bethany. Detective Chen
picked up the edge of the cloth. The morgue attendant lifted the
corpse’s right hip with a gloved hand and they could make out an
infinity symbol. Jeff scanned their faces for reactions. Sadie
scrunched her nose and dabbed at tears that were welling up. He
couldn’t imagine that his goddaughter had anything to do with Kyle’s
death. She had gotten into some serious trouble in the past, but with
her college classes and dedication to Squash, she was back on track.
Nick had put his arm around Sadie’s shoulder. Bethany looked subdued.
“Now
that we know Kyle is the victim, we’re going to have to get statements
from each of you,” said Jeff, who snapped back from a momentary fantasy
about Bethany and her tattoo.
Jeff looked at Julian. His expression was hard to read, but Jeff could see the gears turning in Julian’s head.
***
Christian
called the non-emergency police line from a payphone at the Powell
Street Bart station (damn, they were hard to find). “I’d like to report
a foul odor coming from behind that Squash club on Bay Street. Maybe a
trash violation? Smells like something died there.” The right side of
his mouth curled up as he thought of Julian getting the rap for Kim’s
death. He was pleased that he smashed up the monogrammed stick he had
borrowed from Julian to make it look like the murder weapon. He cleaned
the racquet well to remove his prints and the presumed Kim fleshy bits.
He had tossed it in the Smash Courts dumpster with the body with a
satisfying overhand lob shot. Well played, Christian. He thought to
himself.
Now, he just had to find those kids and get his gun back. He’d love to pin that other murder on Julian too.
