Blackburn

'Wipe that grin off,' the third trooper said, 'or I'll give you another politeness lesson. You hear?'

'Yes,' Blackburn said. 'Thank you.'

The troopers glanced at each other-or seemed to; it was hard to tell with the mirrorshades-and then laughed.

' 'Thank you,' ' the first trooper repeated. 'Ain't that polite?'

'Polite as Sunday school,' the second trooper said.

'Why you thanking us, boy?' the third trooper asked.

'For giving me a reason,' Blackburn said.

'A reason for what?' the first trooper asked. Blackburn said nothing.

The van stopped in a tunnel under the courthouse, and the troopers hustled Blackburn to a courtroom where the third trooper took a set of keys from his shirt pocket and removed Blackburn's handcuffs and leg shackles. That was another concession that Blackburn's attorney had won for him. It was to be the last one.

The hearing was quick. Blackburn's attorney protested the rape charge, but the judge let it stand. Since Blackburn was to be tried for murder anyway, the judge said, the state might as well kill two birds with one stone and try him for rape at the same time. If the charge had no merit, the jury could say so. Bail was denied. Blackburn's attorney sighed and said nothing more.

Five minutes later Blackburn was in handcuffs and shackles again. Five minutes after that he was back in the van with the three DPS troopers, waiting on the driver and shotgun rider. The driver and shotgun rider had not expected to be needed again so soon, and had gone to the courthouse cafeteria. One of Blackburn's troopers called them on a walkie-talkie, but they replied that it would be a few minutes before they could return to the tunnel.

The troopers didn't seem to mind.

'Tough break in court today,' the first one said in mock sympathy.

'Guess you won't be raping anyone else,' the second said.

'I've never raped anyone,' Blackburn said.

The third trooper jabbed him with the baton again. This time Blackburn didn't double over.

'I've never raped anyone,' Blackburn repeated, 'and I've never killed a woman. Men, yes. But never a woman.'

'How many men?' the first trooper asked.

'Just so we know how scared we should be,' the second said.

'Eighteen,' Blackburn said. 'So far.'

The troopers laughed.

' 'So far,' ' the third one said. 'Whoo, this boy's a mean one.'

'You remember them all, do you?' the first trooper asked. 'Every man you killed, every way you did it?'

'Yes,' Blackburn said.

'Well, hell, enlighten us,' the second trooper said. 'We got time. Who was your first one? A cripple in a wheelchair?'

The troopers were chuckling. They thought Blackburn was a psychopathic freak who needed to hurt women to feel strong. They didn't believe he had killed any men.

Blackburn stared at his six reflections. 'The first one,' he said, 'was a cop.'

The troopers stopped chuckling.

'It was my seventeenth birthday,' Blackburn said, 'eleven years ago today. It was even a Wednesday. He was the city cop of my hometown in Kansas. He shot a dog on the steps of the Nazarene church, so I took his gun and killed him. The gun was a Colt Python with a four-inch barrel.' He nodded at the third trooper. 'Like the one in your holster. Most people with three fifty-sevens have Smith and Wessons, but I was always glad to have a Colt.'

'There's nothing wrong with Smith and Wessons,' the first trooper said.

'Hell, no,' the second said.

'I never said there was,' Blackburn said.

The third trooper stood, crouching because of the low ceiling, and shoved his baton into the loop on his belt. His hand went to the butt of his pistol. 'Boys,' he said, 'if you would like to go for a cup of coffee, I would be happy to stay with the prisoner.'

The first trooper looked up at him. 'You know we can't do that.'

'He's shackled,' the third trooper said. 'And you don't have to be gone long.'

The second trooper shook his head. 'Anything you want to do, you can do with us here. We won't say a word.'

'Two minutes,' the third trooper said. 'That's all I want. You can stay close to the van if you're worried.'

The first trooper shrugged. 'What the hell. I ain't worried.'

The second trooper shrugged too. 'Okay. What the hell.'

The first and second troopers left the van and shut the door. The third trooper unsnapped his holster's safety strap and removed his pistol. It was identical to Blackburn's old Python.

'You want to take this from me?' the trooper asked, holding up the gun.

Blackburn saw no point in lying. 'Yes,' he said.

'You want it bad enough to kill me for it?' the trooper asked.

Blackburn considered. 'No,' he said. 'I do want to kill you, but taking the gun would be incidental.'

The trooper cocked the Python and pointed it at Blackburn's face. 'Why do you want to kill me, then?'

Again, Blackburn saw no point in lying. 'Because you're a sadistic prick.'

The trooper came close and placed the gun muzzle against Blackburn's left cheek. 'You got an answer for everything,' he said. 'So answer me this: Why do I want to kill you?'

The muzzle pressed upward. It hurt, but Blackburn ignored it.

'Because you're a sadistic prick,' he said.

The trooper took the muzzle away from Blackburn's cheek and then hit him on the other side of the face with the Python's butt. Blackburn fell and lay on the bench. He heard the roar of blood in his skull.

'I just got done healing,' he said, trying not to wince. 'Don't you think people will notice a new bruise on my face?'

'You're wearing shackles,' the trooper said. 'You tripped, you fell. Happens all the time. Besides, nobody cares if you get hurt. Folks want a shit like you to get hurt. You've for damn sure caused enough hurt yourself.'

Blackburn pushed himself back up to a sitting position. 'I've never killed anyone the world wasn't better off without,' he said. 'Maybe a few wives and kids have suffered some grief from what I've done, but not as much as they would have suffered if I'd let the sons of bitches stay alive.'

'My uncle wasn't no son of a bitch,' the trooper said.

Blackburn was taken aback. 'Excuse me?'

'He was a cop in Liberal, Kansas,' the trooper said, 'and some punk shot him. We never knew who.' He pointed the pistol at Blackburn's face again. 'Now I know.'

Blackburn frowned. 'I've never been to Liberal. The cop I killed was in Wantoda.'

'Never heard of it.'

'That proves it, then,' Blackburn said. 'You've got the wrong punk.'

'Maybe.' The trooper lowered the Python and uncocked it. Then he replaced it in