by Blackie Noir
“Interested? Shit. How many Widowmakers we had confessing since JuicyTown hit the airwaves? Twenty? Fifty? This mutt’s different? I fucking doubt it.”
“He’s different. He’s the only one mentioned the woman.”
Vance pushed back his hat, said, “He mentioned Satana?”
“Not by name. Said he stopped two guys from killing a woman. Killed them, let her go.”
Nadine said, “Means he was there. He saw the whole thing.”
Logan nodded, “What I think. Guy’s homeless, he camps along the riverbed. JuicyTown’s backed up to the river. Guy was in the bushes, saw it go down.”
Vance says, “Dude’s a fucking squirrel. How long you figure since he smoked his last pipe?”
“Not this boy,” Logan said, “he ain’t no crackhead.”
“Right. So how long since he drank his last short-dog? Same difference.”
“Lighten up, the guy’s no wino. Shit, he’s a regular poster-boy for a drug free society.”
Nadine shook her head, “So? What is his story?”
Logan shrugged, “Going by his sheet? Borderline schizophrenic, they won’t treat them at county anymore. Few busts, usual bullshit; shoplifting, disorderly conduct.”
“Violence?” Nadine said.
“Nothing on his rapsheet.”
Vance laughed, “Right, and this little geek took out Wolf and Ray Bob?”
Nadine said, “No, but he probably saw who did.”
“Let’s hope so, we could use a break.” Vance said, “Lemme take a look at his sheet.”
While Vance reads, Logan says to Nadine, “I really think we got something here with this guy, I’m sure he saw something. Downside is, we ever get to court, his testimony is gonna be about as credible as Pinocchio’s.”
Nadine smiled, “Hey, I’ll take collaring the Widowmaker as the first, and biggest step. Let the DA worry about what goes on in court.”
Vance handed the file back to Logan, said, “Lonny Jones. Art, I’m gonna talk to Mr. Jones for awhile. Nadine, you just watch the show through the glass. Pay attention, I’m gonna make our boy a little nervous. When I walk out, you walk in, console him.”
Logan laughs, “He means, pick up the pieces.”
When Nadine frowns at him, Vance says, “He’s just fucking with your head. I won’t lay a hand on Lonny-boy. Honest, I probably feel sorrier for the poor mutt than you do.”
Vance looked down on Lonny Jones. Thirty-five years old, looking more like fifty. Small, couldn’t go more than one-twenty-five. Long oily hair, scraggly beard, long dirty finger nails. Dressed, head to ankle in gray twill, working man’s clothes: Cap, windbreaker, shirt, pants. Fairly new, but filthy. Worn, broken, lace-up boots. Vance watched the little guy twist his billed cap through grimy fingers. Vance pulled out a chair, sat, said, “Hello, Lonny.”
The guy’s eyes were clear, alert. He said, “You can call me Widowmaker.”
Vance smiled, “Shit. I could call you fucking Batman, but I won’t.”
“I’m not Batman. I’m the Widowmaker.”
“Lonny, what’s with the uniform? You in the military?”
“No, it’s my gas station suit.”
“You worked in a gas station?”
“I wanted to, so I bought these clothes, showed up to work, but they wouldn’t hire me.”
“Maybe you should have got the job first.”
Lonny frowned, “That’s stupid. Would you hire someone for a job, if they weren’t properly dressed?”
“Good point, Lonny.”
“Widowmaker.”
Vance leaned forward, “Sorry, Widowmaker. Now, why did you kill those two guys?”
“They were hurting the woman. She ran, they caught her, kicked her in the head. I think they were going to kill her. I stopped them.”
“How’d you stop them, Widowmaker?”
Lonny liked that, warmed to his subject, “I shot them, with my big gun.”
“Your big gun?”
“Yeah, I had two guns. I shot them with my big gun first. Then, I shot them both in the head with my little gun.”
“OK, Widowmaker. Your big gun, what was that, a .45?”
“Yeah, .45, that’s what it was. A big .45.”
“Good. what was your little gun, maybe a .32?”
“Uh-huh. A .32, right.”
“Fine. Now, the woman you saved, what was she doing?”
“She laid there, she was hurt. I talked to her, touched her neck.”
“Touched her neck? Why?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
Vance loosened his tie, “That’s OK, no big deal. What did you say to her?”
“I told her she could go, after I left.”
“And?”
“I left. Hid in the bushes, watched her get up. She was wobbly, but she was all right. She walked to her car, then drove away. I went back to the river.”
“You’re doing good Widowmaker. Now, this is important, what did you do with the guns?”
“I sold them.”
“You sold them.”
“Yeah.”
“Who’d you sell them to?”
“A guy.”
“What guy?”
“A Mexican.”
“This Mexican, he have a name?”
“Sure. Everybody has a name.”
“This guy, his name. What was it?”
“I don’t know.”
Vance sighed, “What did this guy look like?”
“A Mexican.”
“Lonny, you fucking with me?”
“Widowmaker.”
“No. No fucking Widowmaker. It’s Lonny. You’re Lonny, and pretending to be somebody else, don’t matter who it is, Widowmaker, Green Lantern, whatever, ain’t gonna change that. You ain’t no fuckin hero, and neither is the Widowmaker. He’s a murdering cocksucker, and you? You’re just a slimy little salamander, slithering through the muck of that river bed, spying on people through the bushes. You watch whores giving blowjobs in the parking lot, while you pull your pathetic little pud.”
“Pud? What’s that?”
Vance leaned back, grinned, said, “OK. Look, you win. Used to be I could do this for hours, no more. I’m old Lonny, old and tired, and cranky. Real cranky. You know what you done? You’ve given me a headache. A splitting headache.”
Lonny stared at Vance, said nothing. Vance reached into his jacket, pulled out his sap, tossed it on the table between them. Twelve ounces of leather-bound lead made a hell of a thump on the table top. Vance said, “Know what that is?”
“Blackjack.”
Vance stood, “First true answer you’ve given me today. But, you’re gonna be giving me a lot more, soon as I come back.”
Lonny said, “Where are you going?”
“I told you, you gave me a headache. I’m going to get something for it.”
“You forgot your blackjack.”
“No Lonny, I didn’t forget it. It’s handy right where it is. When I come back I’m going to ask you some questions about what you saw. You fuck with me, like you’ve been doing? Lonny, I’m gonna pick up that blackjack, give you a fucking headache ten times worse than mine.”
Vance made sure to slam the door on his way out. He looked at Nadine, winked. She said, “Want me to go in now?”
“Not just yet. Give him ten, fifteen minutes to stew, stare at that sap. Look! Look at him right now.”
Lonny Jones had extended his arm, using two fingers he gingerly pushed the sap as far across the table as it would go. Eyes blinking rapidly, he licked his lips, glanced at the one-way glass then looked away.
Logan said, “Yeah, he’s getting religion now alright.”
“Poor stupid fuck,” Vance said, “thinks being the Widowmaker is better than being Lonny Jones.”
“Well, ain’t it?” Logan said.
The men laughed, Nadine said, “No doubt about one thing, Lonny was there, saw what went down. He saw the Widowmaker.”
L
ogan said, “Yeah. Now all we got to do, is get him to open up.”
“Right,” Vance looked at Nadine, “OK kid, you’re up. Get us the goods.”
Ready to sit, Nadine paused, her hand on the back of the chair, “Oh shit.”
Lonny’s eyes jumped to her face, he said, “What?”
Treating it as gingerly as Lonny had, Nadine pushed Vance’s blackjack to the side, “I hate it when he leaves this here. It means he’s loosing control.”
Lonny licked his lips, “Losing control?”
“Yeah,” Nadine’s eyes move to the mirror and back, she leans forward, whispers, “Yeah. Terrible thing to say about your partner, but the guy’s a total nut-job. Fucking psycho should be committed.”
Lonny tried for sly and cool, but his stammering blew it, “I g-g-g-get it. B-b-bad cop, g-g-good cop.”
“No, you don’t get it. Try sick motherfucker cop, and terrified partner.”
“T-t-terrified?”
“Believe it.”
Lonny ran a hand over his face, “Terrified? Of what?”
“Lonny, when he leaves that thing laying around, something bad usually happens.”
“Bad? Like what?”
“Blood. Blood and broken bones. And pain, lots of pain.”
“What’d I do?”
Nadine sits, “He’s got one of his headaches, he gets one of those he comes unglued, totally whacko. It’s not pretty.”
“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with me?”
“Everything. He says you gave it to him.”
“Me? I didn’t do nuthin.”
“You lied to him, makes him crazy.”
His voice a high whine, Lonny said, “I didn’t. I didn’t lie.”
“Lonny, we know. We know you’re not the Widowmaker. Now, did you tell him you were?”
“Yeah.”
Nadine sighed, shook her head, “See? There you are. Your telling him you were the Widowmaker, that’s what set him off.”
“But I’m not. I’m not the Widowmaker. I just said that.”
“Why would you say something like that? Remember, the truth. I can’t help you if you lie again.”
“I said it because of the woman.”
“The woman?”
“Yeah, I always watch her, from the bushes, late at night when she leaves. I like her, she’s my pretend girl.”
Nadine reaches out, pats the back of Lonny’s hand, “Nothing wrong with that, Lonny. Go on.”
“There were two men, bad men, I seen their kind before. They were waiting, a long time. My girl, she came out, saw them. She went back inside, came out with the big fat man. He yelled at the bad men, and one of them shot him, in the face. My girlfriend, she ran.”
Lonny ran filthy fingers through his greasy hair, licked his lips, tears cut grimy rivulets down his crusty cheeks, “She was a fast runner, might have got away, but she fell. They caught her, started hurting her, kicking her. They grabbed her by the legs, started dragging her away, they were laughing. I wanted to help her, save her. But . . . but I was scared. She was my girl, and I was too scared to save her.”
Nadine shook her head, “Lonny those men were killers, anybody would be scared.”
Lonny snuffled, wiped his nose with the back of his hand, “He wasn’t.”
“Who, Lonny?”
“The Widowmaker. He laughed at them, then he killed them. Fast. Bam! Bam!”
“What happened?”
“He came out of the shadows. He was blocking their way before they even saw him. He had the big gun hidden behind his leg. When they finally saw him, they tried to scare him.”
Lonny grabbed his face, sobbed into his hands, caught his breath and said, “They were going to kill him. He laughed. Laughed at them, killed them. Saved her.”
“Go on, Lonny.”
Lonny jumped up, knocking the chair over, shouted, “I wanted to be HIM! I wanted to kill them, save her.”
Vance burst into the room, flew past Nadine, and shoved Lonny over the toppled chair, to the floor. Righting the chair, Vance grabbed Lonny by the back of his jacket, hauled him up, dumped him in the chair. Bending, sticking his face in Lonny’s he bellowed, “Goddamn it, any fucking yelling in here, I’d better be the one that’s doing it. You got that motherfucker?”
Wide-eyed, Lonny nodded vigorously, kept right on nodding. Vance pointed a finger in the terrified man’s face, said, “Stop. You keep that up, your fucking head’s gonna fall off. That means I won’t get to knock it off, then I’ll really be pissed.”
Reaching over Vance’s shoulder, Nadine grabbed his wrist, said, “C’mon, ease up. Don’t hurt the guy.”
Vance jerked his arm away, causing her to stumble. He caught her arm, steadying her, shook her, said, “Don’t you ever interfere with one of my interrogations. Now get the fuck out of here,” he turned her, pushed her toward the door. Nadine stopped, stood her ground.
From Lonny, words, a low mutter. Vance turned, yelled, “What? What did you say?”
Lonny growled, “I said, don’t be doin her like that.”
For the second time, Vance shoved Lonny over and back. Before he stopped sliding across the floor, Vance had him by his jacket, yanked him up with one arm, righted the chair with the other, rammed Lonny into the seat. Grabbing the sap off the table, he smacked it into his palm, looked into Lonny’s eyes, said, “Don’t get carried away here, sonny. You ain’t the Widowmaker, and you sure as shit ain’t no hero. You had your chance, in that parking lot and you blew it, you little chicken-shit. Didn’t lift a fucking finger to save that ‘girl’ of yours, you little puke, did you?”
Lonny said nothing, but managed to hold Vance’s eyes. Vance smacked his palm again, softened his tone, said, “Lonny, what would you do if you had a second chance. A second chance to save that girl of yours. Would you take it?”
Lonny sniffed, “I don’t have a gun.”
“Good thing too. You’d probably shoot your dick off. You can save her, for real. Don’t need no gun.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s the Widowmaker, Lonny. She saw him, she knows who he is. He’s going to kill her, she’s a witness. Killer like that, he can’t be leaving any witnesses around. He’s hunting her right now.”
Lonny shook his head, “Uh-uh. He let her go. I saw him.”
Vance smiled, wagged the blackjack at Lonny, “You saw him? See? That’s good, I’m gonna remember that, come back to it later. When he let her go, he made a mistake. Now, this Widowmaker, he’s a guy don’t make many mistakes. But, when he does, he corrects them. He’s gonna kill her Lonny.”
“I saw him, is he gonna kill me too?”
“He don’t know you saw him, you’re in the clear. Your girlfriend? He knows who she is, he’s hunting her down, right now buddy, like a fucking dog. ”
Nadine stepped closer, “Please Lonny, don’t let Sally down twice. Help us to save her.”
“Sally? That’s a nice name.”
Vance said, “Sure is, she’s a nice girl too. Now, you gonna betray her again, or you gonna stand up, be a fucking man?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Tell me about the Widowmaker. Everything you saw, everything you know.”
Nadine stepped closer, dragging a chair behind her. Before she could sit, Vance stopped her, said, “Sorry, Detective, but you have to leave. This is between me and Lonny.”
“Why can’t I stay?”
Rubbing the sap along his own jaw, Vance said, “Well, Lonny’s had some trouble with the truth. He lied to me, gave me a fucking headache. He does it again, well, you know what I’ll end up doing to him. You want to sit through another session like the last one?”
Nadine said, “No way. That poor guy’s still in the hospital. I’m out of here.”
Vance watched utter despair drop like a shroud over Lonny’s face as he watched Nadine walk out the door.
Lonny told his tale. A keen observer, he left few details out. His description of the Wid
owmaker was meticulous. Vance knew the little mutt was telling the truth, but found himself wishing for lies.
Vance exited the room, Logan approached him, said, “Well?”
Vance said, “Little turd’s got more balls than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fucker’s still yanking my chain.”
“Why would he do that? I thought you had him snowed with that saving the slut yarn.”
“Fuck would I know? He’s a schizophrenic, who knows what’s misfiring in his brain-pan.”
“What do you want to do with him?”
Vance shrugged, “You can hit him with a bogus obstruction charge, hold him for a couple of days, or you can cut him loose. Either way, I don’t give a shit.”
Logan frowned, “Hey, you want him held, you do the fucking paperwork.”
“Not me. I’d just as soon let him go. We need him, he’ll be easy to find.” Turning to Nadine, he said, “Partner? Up to you. Want to do some paperwork?”
Long moments stretched by before Nadine, holding Vance’s eyes, shook her head, said, “Cut him loose.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
Widowmaker
Deadpan, he watched the woman called Sarah. If she was nervous, she covered it well. Him? Truth be told, he was edgy. Nothing to do with himself, he was through. Seeing children dressed in homage to a killer had accomplished what six years of ongoing investigation and pursuit by law enforcement could not. The Widowmaker’s spree was over. Almost.
Next batch of tee-shirts should read, “14 - - - and no longer counting.” One more kill, then it was finished. This would be the most important one, only the second one in over twenty-five years that was personal. He’d fucked up the first one, he couldn’t blow this one. But first, he had to get by Sarah. One way or another.
He shifted in his chair, crossed his arms, said, “Guess it’s true. Money changes everything.”
Her eyes, steady as the pistol she had aimed at his chest, held his, “I wouldn’t know about everything, but it hasn’t changed the way I feel.”
“What, you always planned on giving me up?”
“Never crossed my mind, still hasn’t.”
“Hard to believe. I mean, you got a piece pointed at my heart, finger on the trigger, yet you expect me to believe that you’re not after the reward? Where’s the trust?”