by Drew Blank
“I think it’ll look hot.” Twisty tried to help me accept the inevitability of bulky groin protection.
“We’ll see,” I said. “So what else ya got for me?” Seeing everything come together was very exciting.
“Not much right now. Jim’s got a bunch of things working, though,” Phil said.
“Which I am sure he will go over with you for hours and hours.” Twisty’s addendum to Phil’s statement was both unnecessary and painfully true.
“Well, I have lunch planned with Dom at three thirty. I’m gonna head off and see what he knows. Twisty, are you working tonight?”
“Yeah, but I was thinking of calling in sick,” she answered.
“No, don’t. As long as we’ve been there we have never called in sick. It has to be business as usual right now. I guarantee you, suspicions are still high at Tully’s regarding Randy’s attacker and anything out of the ordinary can send up a red flag. Go to work. Keep an eye out for us.”
“Aw crap. I was really looking forward to not working.” Twisty pouted.
“Look on the bright side. Today is DeeDee’s day off,” I offered.
“True. That is indeed a bright side.” She smiled.
“Well ladies. I am off. If you need me I’ve got my phone.” I waved as I opened the door.
“Are you coming back tonight?” Phil asked.
“I have lunch with Dom, then I was going to swing by and see Moxie. After that, I’m all yours.”
“All mine?” Phil repeated smugly. “Tease.”
“Down fella. Maybe I’ll bring Dom with me. Then you can fawn all over him.” I joked from the threshold about Phil’s ever-present crush on our uniformed friend.
“Oh that would be a terrific idea. Bring the cop that is investigating your criminal activities to your base of operations. I’m sure that would go over well,” Phil chuckled.
“Oh, he’s not on the case anymore, apparently.” I recalled from our phone call earlier. “At least that’s what he told me on the phone this morning.”
“Shit. What happened?” Phil sounded concerned.
“Don’t really know,” I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about it at lunch. I’ll fill you in later.”
“We have to get him back on this case, Drew. That’s absolutely imperative. He will have information that will keep us ten steps ahead of everyone,” Phil argued, as if I had any control over the situation.
“I’ll try to find out more, but I really don’t think there is anything we can do about it.”
“I’m sure you can come up with something.” Phil’s faith in me was flattering, but I doubted I could somehow manage to get the least popular and lowest ranked cop on the force placed first on a triple homicide case.
“Yeah. Wish me luck on that one. I gotta run. Twisty, send my love to Randy.” I winked as I stepped out.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
As I rode up to Mama Mema’s, I saw Dom sitting at the lone bistro table out front, his hands wrapped around a steaming coffee mug. I was confident it was cocoa. As if Dom didn’t have enough trouble fitting in with the other officers, coffee gave him instantaneous diarrhea, so he understandably avoided it at all costs. He discovered hot cocoa in a mug or in a styrofoam cup from the local cafe passed off as coffee, and he could try and mingle with his co-workers as they discussed the morning matters over a cup of hot joe. I told him I thought risking type two diabetes by daily ingesting six to seven cups of pure sugar just to feel like one of the guys was a bit silly. He would then always tell me I didn’t understand the pressure he was under to be part of the team. I suppose I didn’t understand, nor would I ever. Dom was too good a person to mix himself up with that corrupt circle of badged criminals.
“Well hello, my brother,” I greeted Dom as I leaned my bike against the wall. “How’s the cocoa?”
“I think I’m an addict. Do they have a rehab I can go to for that?” Dom joked back.
“I am pretty sure they have a rehab for anything these days. I’m just glad you are admitting there is a problem before we had to hold an intervention. Of course cocoa is just the beginning. It then leads into the hard stuff, like all-day suckers and paste. Why don’t you try a more grown up habit like heroin?” Teasing Dom was a fun activity I could do all day long without tiring.
“I tried heroin. It wasn’t sweet enough and I can’t really afford it on a cop’s salary.”
“Well, I know what Mema charges for cocoa. You better meet your quota this month.”
Dom laughed as I had a seat.
“So I guess I don’t need to ask you what you’ve been up to,” I taunted while pulling in my chair. “You are all over the news, I hear.”
“Oh my god, I am exhausted. I got the call at three in the morning. The captain is a die hard nine to fiver, so there was nobody at the station but some rookies and dispatch. Once the rookies got to the scene and found out it was a dude with big black glasses beating up on known drug dealers they called me in, figuring I was already working that case. I cleaned up, did some damage control with the morning news, made sure nobody fucked with the crime scene and had the meat wagon come to bag and tag the victims. Once I got back to the station to start the paperwork, Captain calls me in and tells me I’m off.” Dom waved his hand by his throat to signify he was being axed, “and that’s that. They threw a detective on the case and I’m back hittin’ the streets. No surprise really.” Dom was always downhearted when discussing his job.
“Dude, that sucks,” I sympathized with him. “You said the people that got killed were drug dealers?” I played up my ignorance to get some information out of him.
“Yeah. Never convicted of course, cuz you know how this city works. But her name was Lola…”
“She was a show girl!” I broke into song. Dom cracked a smile as he sipped his cocoa.
“Ummm…no. This Lola was far from a show girl. She was a dealer that had no problem escaping trouble. Since most of her clientele were strippers or whores, she made sure the cops that tried to bring her down were well taken care of. There’s no love lost with her gone now, but there are a few officers that are going to have to start paying for sex again.” Dom shook his head with the all too familiar look of dismay he wore when discussing the corruption within his precinct.
“So, who were the other two people?” I had to get used to asking questions I knew the answers to.
“Bodyguards. Lola kept a few around at all times.
This is not a safe city for a woman to be walking around loaded with dope and cash. Apparently these guys weren’t very good at their jobs.” Dom took another swig of his cocoa. “But whoever this guy is that killed them, he’s a twisted mother fucker.”
“What makes you say that?” I wanted to know if I should take Dom’s comment as a compliment or not.
“Well, it’s obviously the same guy from the other night at Tully’s,” he began. “I told you how badly he fucked up Randy and Mouse. Now this? He beat one guy’s head into the pavement until his face was mush. He clubbed the other dude’s head in with a frying pan. Then he shot Lola five times in the chest. This is not a normal guy. I was hoping the first time he popped up it would be a one time thing. Now it looks like we have a serial killer wandering the streets.”
“A serial killer?” I questioned. “You really think a guy that picks off a few drug dealers is a serial killer? Ask me, the guy’s a freakin’ hero.”
And most certainly not a serial killer, I added in my head.
“Drew, he has hit twice in two days. The first time he left two guys that without immediate medical attention could have died. Next time he shows up he finishes the job on three more people. He is the definition of a serial killer. What more do you want?” It was always nice to see Dom’s passion for what he believed in, but it didn’t sit well with me that he wasn’t on my side.
“But you have to be a little conflicted. I mean, the guy’s doing what you wish you could, isn’t he?” While I didn’t require Dom’s approval, it would
have been nice to hear him give me some sort of unknowing praise for what I had done.
“I hate the criminals in this town, Drew. I really do. Sure, there are times I wish I could just send them all to the chair, and in an ideal world that would be great. But the reality is, there will always be someone there to fill the need on the street. If you think someone won’t be there tomorrow filling Lola’s shoes you are delusional. Taking the law into your own hands is never the answer. The last thing we need is more criminals out there keeping us from doing our jobs effectively. This guy may be a hero to you, but to us he is a nuisance.” The sincerity he had in defending his position was disheartening.
“Look,” he continued, “I don’t feel any sadness for the people he killed. I also don’t believe he is out to take innocent lives. However,” and at this he pointed to me to intensify his statement “nobody can be out there playing judge, jury and executioner. That’s just not the way things work.”
As he took a break from his rant, Mema came out with a plate in each hand.
“Hot stromboli for you both?” Mema asked, as if there was a chance we would turn her down.
“What? I don’t get a choice in what I eat for dinner?” I faked outrage.
“You most certainly do, sir,” Mema said politely. “Hot stromboli for you sir.” She placed one plate in front of Dominick and turned as if to leave with the other in hand. “Enjoy your meal, sir,” she commented with her back turned to us both.
“Whoa! Hold up!” I hopped from my chair and grabbed for the second plate that Mema was leaving with.
“Uh uh. What do you say?” She pulled the entree back and waved her motherly finger in my face.
“Please?” I was hoping that was the magic word, because Mema’s stromboli was like warm baked Italian crack in a fluffy pastry shell.
“Ingrate,” Mema grumbled as she handed me the warm plate. “Would you like a tasty cold beverage with your stromboli, sir?” She asked with fake politeness.
“Sure. Iced tea please?” I responded.
“Great. You know where to find it.” I should have known that was coming. “Enjoy your dinner, gentlemen.”
“Mema! Wait!” Dom called as she turned again to leave.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Mema asked in the pleasant voice I rarely got to hear.
“You got a second?” Dom asked.
“No darling. I do not ‘got a second’. I do, however, have several seconds I could give you. Maybe even a minute or two. What can I help you with?” Mema loved correcting bad grammar. She figured if she learned English as her second language and spoke it flawlessly, the least we American born citizens could do is try and utilize the language to its fullest potential.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I was just wondering if you could clear something up between us,” Dom motioned over to me as he spoke.
“I will certainly try. I assure you, I will more than likely be on your side out of spite, so go forward with confidence.” She looked at me and winked. For such an unassuming, sweet old lady she really could be a crazy bitch. That is why I loved her.
“Well, did you watch the news this morning?” Dom began.
“Yes. I saw a little bit about the murders at that bar last night. Are you involved with that?”
“Not any more, no. But it has to do with that.” Dom then went into the whole story, explaining his side and then my side. He then asked Mema where she stood on the issue. She thought a moment before begrudgingly answering in my favor.
“Dominick, darling. There once was a time I would have been very black and white on this issue. Crime is crime and violence is violence. Sadly, this world has taken a sick turn and I don’t quite know what to believe anymore.” She leaned against the table, shaking her head. “Has Drew ever told you the story of how I decided to bring him home with me?”
“Yes ma’am,” Dom responded, while averting her gaze.
“Well, then I am sure you can see there is no right or wrong in situations like that.”
“In that situation it was self defense,” Dom tried to argue.
“He wasn’t even in the room. He wasn’t defending himself, dear. He was saving me.” Mema placed a caring hand on my shoulder. “And I never even told Drew this, but only one of those boys survived.” With this statement my mind began to race. The police and Mema had always told me that Luiz and his gang were all in critical condition but should pull through. After a few months of hollow answers to my queries regarding Mema’s attackers, I eventually stopped asking. I had assumed they survived and that was that. Almost a decade later I was discovering that the three lives I took less than twenty-four hours prior, were not the first lives to be taken by my hands. Suddenly, I had no appetite for my stromboli.
“You’re kidding me?” I choked the words out as it was all sinking in. “So I…”
“Don’t give it even a second thought, dear. Even the police decided there was no sense in pressing charges.” Mema ran her hand through my dark locks. “You were very brave and did what few people would. What you did will forever make you a hero in my book. Why do you think I have put up with your shit for ten years?” Mema cracked a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
“So, Dominick, I hope that answers your question,” Mema directed her attention back to Dom.
“I suppose. But I see a huge difference between Drew saving you from a pack of hooligans and some nameless psycho killing off a few drug dealers.” There was less difference than he knew.
“Well, I imagine the drugs were not being sold in an attempt to better anyone’s life. Just because the attack is not immediate does not mean the dealers aren’t killers in their own way,” Mema reasoned. “When you choose a lifestyle like that, you are taking a risk. It just seems the risk has been elevated out there. While I don’t necessarily condone vigilante actions, I certainly can’t imagine anyone is complaining.”
“I have a feeling we just aren’t going to see eye to eye on this,” Dom glumly replied.
“Of course not. She’s about a foot taller than you,” I joked, putting up my humor defense as I was still letting the bombshell Mema dropped sink in.
“You boys enjoy your stromboli. I need to get back to the kitchen,” Mema said as she turned towards the entrance. “Dominick, it was nice to see you again. I promise I will try to be on your side next time.”
“Thank you, Mema,” Dominick responded gratefully.
“Back in the kitchen you old hag!” I yelled behind her, warranting an uncharacteristically crude finger gesture as she disappeared into the restaurant.
Dom and I spent the next few minutes quietly gorging on the delectable cheese and sausage stuffed pastries before us. It was Dom who finally broke the silence.
“So…” It was obvious he wanted to bring up that afternoon at Donnelly House, “you had no idea?”
“That I killed those kids? No. None at all. I mean, I had my suspicions, but I figured since I never heard anything about it they all pulled through.” I shook my head as I stuffed a fork into my mouth. “Apparently I was wrong,” I said through cheeks full of stromboli.
“Don’t worry about all that, man. You didn’t mean to do it. Things happen.” Dom attempted to console me. The problem was, I couldn’t say I didn’t mean to do it. All the emotions from that afternoon came rushing through me again. Before the previous night I had forgotten what that kind of rage felt like.
“I’m not worried. It’s old news. Those were not kids any one would miss, anyway.” I tried to get the focus off of me and my homicidal past and focus more on my homicidal present. “So what’s up with this case? Why did they boot you off?”
“Dude, I’m a patrolman. This is detective work. They aren’t going to leave it in my hands,” Dom explained unconvincingly.
“But what about all the work you did on the Randy and Mouse case?”
“I fill in the acting detective on all the info and he does with it what he can. I go back to arresting kids stealing candy from the grocery store and busting up lo
ud parties full of drunken underage teens. That’s my lot in life, I guess.” He broke from his gloom for a moment and took another bite of the stromboli. “Ya know, if I could just eat this for the rest of my life, everything else would be okay.” He said with a full mouth, followed with a groan of approval.
“This really sucks, dude. I thought this might be your big break.”
“Yeah. Me too. My time will come. Someday. It’s got to.” Dom was more daydreaming aloud than anything.
“So do you think they are going to be able to catch this guy?” Even though he was no longer on the case, I needed to get whatever information I could.
“Well, we got this helpful sketch. You may have seen it on TV already.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of the folder that had been sitting at his feet. Holding up the black and white police drawing that I had seen previously on the news, he commented on its lack of specific detail. “As long as he never takes off the big sunglasses, we may catch him. Hell, this could be me.” He held the sketch up next to his face and gave a broad, forced smile. “Is it me?” He asked jokingly. He then stretched out his arm and held the paper up to my face. “It could even be you. I might have to bring you down to the station for questioning.” Dom laughed at the assertion that I may be the man he was looking for. “Other than that, there is nothing to really go on. We found a coat and hat in the parking lot that the bartender seemed to think our guy was wearing before he left the club with Lola.”
“Well, can’t you check the hat for hairs or anything? Trace DNA or something?” I needed to know if they had absolutely any leads.
“I found brown hairs, white hairs and blonde hairs. So I guess we are looking for a guy with white, brown and blonde hair,” Dom chuckled. “The hat obviously had multiple owners. Unfortunately, the DNA thing isn’t as easy as they make it seem in those cop shows. It may come in handy if we ever catch the guy and compare the hairs when they prosecute, but until we have a suspect, it’s pretty useless.”