“Peachy.”
I dialed 911 next, told the police who I was, gave them the address and details.
I went outside, took off my gun belt, put it on the front seat of my car. I didn’t want any gun-happy cops popping me.
I sat down on the bottom step of the apartment and took in long, slow breaths. I was away from the stench of blood, but I could still smell it. I felt as if it had soaked into my skin. In the distance I could hear a siren. More than one.
Then I really began to think about who was upstairs. My good buddy, Charlie. I thought about what had occurred, how horrible it had been, and that it must have been meant for me.
As I’ve pointed out, I’m not exactly a lucky man. But I did get a bit of luck. The head honcho on the case knew me. His name was Jake. I had met him several times but I could never remember his last name. He had been a patrol cop when I first met him. He was a detective now. Part of that was due to Charlie leaving, opening up a position. He and Charlie had been friends.
He was a big dark-haired guy with a belly made pregnant by too many beers and not enough exercise. He had a naturally sad face, and today it was sadder. He wore a very nice suit and very nice shoes. I found myself looking at his shoes a lot. I didn’t like the fact I was all teary-eyed. Even under such circumstances one tries to be macho. It’s expected.
We were leaning on my car, talking. I was giving him the poop I knew. Which, of course, was limited. I didn’t mention the Mexico thing. I knew I should have. I even knew they were connected, but right then I didn’t mention it.
Leonard drove up. The cops didn’t want to let him see me, but Jake signaled him through.
“You okay, brother?” Leonard said.
“I suppose,” I said. “I’m not exactly up for Pancho’s Mexican buffet, but I guess I’ll make it.”
One of the blue suits came over, said, “There’s a handprint in blood on the bathroom wall. It’s big. If the rest of that motherfucker goes with the hand he’ll be just a little smaller than a Tyrannosaurus rex.”
“You getting prints?”
“I’m just a blue suit, like you used to be, Jake, but I thought of that. We do that when we do police work. We take photographs and try not to step in stuff.”
“All right, all right,” Jake said. “I get you.”
“Did I say this motherfucker is big?” the blue suit said. “I mean big.”
“You said he was big,” Jake said.
“He’s so big he hurts my feelings. I wear like a size eight shoe. Everyone’s bigger than me, but this motherfucker, he’s bigger than everyone else.”
“We get the point,” Jake said. “Go supervise. Get a doughnut. Something. You’re gettin’ on my nerves.”
“Now that you’re a detective I get on your nerves.”
“Ned, you always got on my nerves.”
Ned went away. Jake said, “You have no idea why this happened?”
“I think whoever it was was looking for me,” I said. “Charlie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been robbery. They wanted something I didn’t have. I had moved most of my stuff out. Disappointed, they took it out on Charlie. It could have been like that.”
“Could be that way,” Jake said. “But before you said robbery, you said they were looking for you. You kind of tacked that on, like maybe you wished you hadn’t said the first part. Why would they be looking for you?”
“I live here. Charlie isn’t normally here. Maybe someone had a grudge and came to settle it.”
“What I know about you guys, lots of people could have grudges. You got any names of these grudge holders?”
“You’ll need a computer,” Leonard said.
“Yeah, but I can’t think of anyone who would do this,” I said.
“So no one comes to mind?” Jake said.
I shook my head. “No. Not really.”
“What about you, Leonard? You know Hap well. Anyone you can think of would want him dead.”
Leonard put his arm around my shoulder. “No.”
“And Charlie was here why?”
“He was going to stay a couple nights while his trailer was painted.”
“You wouldn’t hold back anything, would you, Hap?”
“I don’t think I am.”
“That’s not quite an answer either way.”
“No, it isn’t, Jake. I’m a little rattled right now. You’ll have to forgive me. I just found a good friend with his throat cut. Tends to make a man tense and a little confused.”
“Hey, he was my friend too,” Jake said.
“I know.”
“You called Leonard, obviously. I don’t suppose you called and told Hanson. They were like brothers, you know.”
“I do know,” I said. “No. I didn’t call Hanson.”
“I’ll take care of that. You got some place to go?”
“I’m staying with my girlfriend. Brett Sawyer.”
“He’ll be with me for a while,” Leonard said. “You know my address.”
“Who in law enforcement doesn’t?” Jake said.
“I can give you my boyfriend’s address too.”
“Oh. Well…”
“Forgot I was queer, didn’t you?”
“Bingo. You just don’t… I don’t know…”
“Act queer?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Guess what? Some of us don’t wear feather boas. But just so you don’t feel all confused, me and John, sometimes we hold hands and kiss and I did give him a little promise ring.”
“Man, I don’t want to hear that,” Jake said. “Your boyfriend’s address isn’t necessary. Give me Brett’s address, Hap, and go. I need to ask any more questions, I’ll look you up.”
I gave him the address, started to get in my car.
Jake said, “I assume the gun on the seat goes with the guard uniform?”
“Goddamn, you are a detective,” I said. I was trying to come across as cool and calm and still ripe with humor, but the words came out flat and a little desperate. It’s funny the way men try to be men.
“Follow me to my place,” Leonard said. “We can talk.”
When we got to John’s, and Leonard explained what happened, John immediately put a pot of water on the stove. Leonard once told me when things get tense, first thing John did was heat water and make tea.
“Motherfucker thinks he’s from England,” Leonard said.
“Tea is soothing,” John said. “I’ve got some cookies. Vanilla, of course.”
“You put ice in tea,” Leonard said. “Anything else is un-American. Besides, I like milk with vanilla cookies. We got the wafers or the ones with the creme in the middle?”
“Like it matters to you,” John said. “Vanilla cookies with shit in the center would be all right for you. Long as they’re vanilla.”
We sat at the table while the water heated. Leonard said, “You didn’t mention Mexico to Jake.”
“No, I didn’t. And you didn’t either.”
“You thought Jake didn’t need to know, I couldn’t see any reason to mention it. But it’s too much like Mexico to be coincidence.”
John poured hot water into cups with tea bags in them. He said, “May I ask why you didn’t tell the police? You want the killer caught, of course.”
“I want his ass. I want it personally. Beatrice was a fool, but she was all right at the center. She didn’t deserve to die and then have it all swept under the rug. I left that to the Mexican police. Obviously, it didn’t work out. I don’t think it’ll ever work out. I been thinking about that. Me just going off to let it work out in whatever
