Kiss Them Goodbye

by Stella Cameron

  “What do you want?” he asked. “Money? All I’ve got is what’s in my wallet. My watch?” Wait till he was free, and he would be. He gritted his teeth and said, “Or is it the BMW? Say the word and the keys are yours.” Long ago he’d been taught to decide what was worth fighting for.

  “I’ve got money, and a watch, and a car.” The man’s laughter shocked Bill. He’d heard it before.

  “Who are you?” he said, squirming. Danger was an old companion but still his stomach twisted.

  “Don’t you know me?” More laughter. “Don’t you recognize my voice?”

  Bill squeezed his eyes shut and said, “No. You’re mixing me up with someone else.” He wanted to believe it but he knew who had him in a net.

  “Don’t you wish. It’s payback time, Brizio,” the man sang out.

  Bill struggled to stand up. He felt aware the way he’d learned to be when he faced a threat.

  “Nothing to say, not even to your best friend?”

  “I don’t have friends, Ulisse. You are very stupid to come here like this. I’ve been merciful. I didn’t track you down as most would have. You should have stayed gone. And you shouldn’t have interfered. It was you, wasn’t it? You killed the gardener and tried to draw attention to me.”

  A kick to his kidneys landed him in a gasping heap. He dragged air down an aching throat. “Bastard,” he whispered. “You’re going to pay. Don’t forget who I am.”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything about you, including the marks you murdered in certain places.”

  “They meant nothing to us. It was a game. We all agreed it was a good way to pass the time and we needed the money.”

  “Guido and I never did the killing. You did. We were stupid enough to go along. How do you like the net? Remember what fun you had using them?”

  “Shut your fucking mouth. You made all this trouble. You.”

  “But you’ll pay for it,” Ulisse said. “You’ve been set up and when you crawl out of here, if you do, you’ll be charged with murder. It was unfortunate I had to kill the gardener, but we couldn’t have him wandering around and seeing what you did to the lawyer before I was ready to reel you in. Once he was dead it was pointless not to use him.”

  He continued in a droning voice. “Stupid move with the sheriff and the girl in Bayou Lafourche. If they’d died, you’d have brought New Orleans down on your head before it was over. And since you broke out of your little MO they wouldn’t have thought it was the work of any serial killer.”

  “The bayou was supposed to be shallow there. They were supposed to climb out where I could finish them one after the other.”

  Ulisse sighed. “Only, you bungled it. I thought you were told to quit the killing. After all, the hit was supposed to be a onetime deal. You always were an overachiever.”

  “You knew everything, didn’t you? I wonder how? Have you been in touch with Guido’s friend all along?” Bill surged upward and lunged at a darker confluence of shadows. The laughter came again and a fist smashed into the back of his head. “I did the fat old lawyer because you made it impossible for me to refuse when that other clown told me to. Thanks to you and Guido, he had everything on me and he used it to blackmail me.” He laughed despite himself. “Unfortunately for you, I turned the tables. I’m blackmailing him and to save himself he’ll start singing about you.”

  “What a waste, I won’t be here.”

  Ulisse kicked Bill’s back, then moved swiftly to land a foot in his windpipe. He struggled to breathe and saw red behind his eyelids.

  “You’re the one they’ll lock up forever,” Ulisse said. “If they don’t fry you.”

  Laughing caused pain but Bill laughed anyway. “They’ll never suspect me. I’ve been with all the people here. They all like me. I even helped dig up the gardener.”

  “That must have been a kick in the balls for you. Nasty surprise, hmm?”

  Bill smiled to himself. “It was a gift. Thank you very much. One more piece of evidence to show what a nice, helpful, trustworthy guy I am.”

  The knife sliced into his left shoulder and the back of his arm so rapidly he didn’t realize what had happened until it was finished. “What are you doing?” He screamed, felt blood run around the arm, run from the shoulder across his back and down his chest. “Why?”

  “For Sylvia and for Guido.”

  Bill thrashed. He grimaced against the pain and threw himself around, trying to locate his enemy.

  “We were friends,” Ulisse said. “One for all and all for one, but you killed him with as little concern as when you stabbed those others. And you left him to die slowly. Sylvia…no, I won’t talk about Sylvia.”

  “Our leader committed the ultimate sin. He turned into a saint who couldn’t handle what had to happen to Sylvia, and went mewling to a stranger,” Bill said.

  “To someone who had been a close friend since he was a kid. Someone whose opinion he trusted and who he thought could help him decide what he should do. Who could have known he’d made a bad choice and the guy would save the information about you until it was useful to him?”

  “Don’t interrupt,” Bill said. “You were the hater. What did that mean to you?”

  “It meant I went along with what seemed like a prank at first and all I had to do was say nothing, move like a wolf, and keep telling you how much I hated. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to hate. In the end I stayed in because it was too dangerous to get out. Guido learned that.”

  “You screwed my wife,” Bill said, lunging upward again.

  “Why didn’t you kill me instead of Sylvia?” Ulisse said.

  “She betrayed me.”

  Ulisse breathed loudly. “So did I.”

  “She was my wife. She belonged to me. She made promises she forgot when she let you fuck her. But I let you live and this is the thanks I get. How did you know where I was?”

  “I’ve followed you ever since…ever since. When I was contacted to make a hit, I said I couldn’t do it but I had a friend who could and he even lived close enough to where the victim would be to spit on the spot. Then I said who you were and he thought I was lying at first. Never underestimate the power of coincidence, asshole. And you didn’t let me live. You couldn’t find me—and I was right behind you all the time.” He snorted. “The only way to make sure you didn’t surprise me was to know where you were.”

  “We can talk this through,” Bill said. “We can make it work for us. I know about something you’ve never heard of and it’s worth millions.”

  “Whatever it is, it isn’t worth anything to me. I don’t need it. Not even the precious egg I’ve heard about. I loved Sylvia. You didn’t. You treated her like a piece of garbage and thought she should hang around so you could walk on her some more. We’re finished talking.”

  Ulisse knew about the egg? Bill’s arm had turned numb. It felt heavy and cold, except for the hot blood that flowed. “I’m bleeding to death,” he said and coughed, knowing he hadn’t lost enough blood to be in danger yet.

  “That’s the whole idea. You’re going to bleed to death and while you do, think of what you did to your wife—my lover. Like you said, you like to kill women. You have played with too many women, Brizio. The net is like a bag, isn’t it? Tied tight. That one might as well be around your neck because it’s going to finish you.”

  Bill lay on his side, semi-curled up and quiet as if he were failing. And he tried to work his knife from the sheath strapped to his calf. Thank God he was left-handed.

  “I don’t think you’ll reach that knife,” Ulisse said, singsong again. “I hate to say goodbye, but you’ll get over it.”

  The man’s blade struck again, this time stabbing into Bill’s ass, once, twice, deep into the flesh.

  He felt the bruising agony and faintly heard Ulisse leave, laughing softly as he went.

  Bill passed out.

  He came to, choking on dust. His right arm felt like granite and his rear end burned all the way to his bones.

 
The flashlight had to be there, somewhere. He searched as far as he could without moving. A hard object pressed into his thigh. He’d laugh at himself if he had the energy. Right there and he almost missed it. He managed to squeeze it and shoot a red beam around the area. He looked at his watch and could scarcely believe so little time had passed. What the beam passed over on the floor let him know he had to move, at once, and take charge of his condition if he didn’t want to throw away everything he’d worked for. He’d lost a lot of blood. At first he’d had only revenge in mind, a plan to finger the guy who demanded the stuff from Louis Martin, but the stakes had grown far more interesting.

  He located his knife and drew it out. With short, ripping slashes he cut through the mesh and struggled free. At the back of the Bellevue there was a broken-down fence. The fence and a narrow trail were all that lay between Bill and a wall behind the cottage he rented.

  Cursing his slowness, cursing his foolishness, carelessness, he pushed through a side door from the auditorium and back into the glaring sunshine. Blood dripped from the fingers of his right hand and he knew it soaked his pants.

  Deal with the bleeding. Deal with the pain. Finish the job and you’re in the clear.

  Limping, he made it to the fence and squeezed through a gap. Finally inside the compact cottage and standing in his bathroom, he stripped off his clothes, but there was something to be done before he showered and tried to stanch the blood with dressings and bandages.

  Knowing how to deal with a crisis like this one had been part of what he and his “faithful friends” had taught themselves. He prepared rows of cocaine on the countertop beside the sink, but before he snorted, he found the morphine and administered the dose he knew he could handle, the dose he could rely on to work with the cocaine while it gave him the blast he needed.

  Disaster supplies, he had. Showered, he stood in the stall until he’d managed to wrap the wounds tightly. Still naked, he climbed out and looked himself over in front of the mirror. He’d done a good job.

  Clean clothes and back to the fete.

  “Hey there, Bill,” Vivian said. She had the little rat in her arms. He hadn’t counted on that. He’d walked around the arrowwood bushes to avoid passing any of the others on his way to her. “You weren’t long,” she said. “Want that beer?”

  “No thanks,” he said, using every shred of resistance he had against the buzz in his brain, the colors that came and went before his eyes. He pressed his ears hard. Bees were buzzing in there.

  “Do your ears hurt? Hey, we’ve got the doc right here, let’s—”

  “Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t like to make a fuss and I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, but I’ll be watching you.”

  Too cheerful, too sure of herself, too nosy. And she didn’t look at him the way he liked a woman to do. It didn’t matter. He was here to protect his alibi and he was doing a great job. Most men would still be spread out on that stage with their blood draining out. Not Bill Green. He’d live to chop Ulisse fine enough to make boudin.

  “There’s something going on,” Vivian said. “A little while after you left, Ellie Byron asked Spike to go somewhere with her. Apparently it was to the back of the house. They’re still there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bill?”

  He turned his attention from the crowd gyrating and merging into a single entity in front of him. “They’re having a good time,” he managed to say.

  Vivian wasn’t listening. Instead she looked down and when he followed her gaze he saw what the cocktail made sure he didn’t feel. Blood ran from beneath his right sleeve and over his hand. While he watched, drops fell from the tips of his fingers.

  Quickly, he pushed the hand into his pocket. With his left hand, he took hold of Vivian’s and pulled her apart from the others.

  “What’s happened to you?” she asked. “You’re really bleeding, Bill.” She pushed out the words in worried little gasps. “Into the house. You need attention.”

  “You don’t understand,” he told her. “I hoped Spike would be here. Maybe I should go back there and find him.”

  “Ellie didn’t want anyone else with them.” She tucked the dog more firmly under her arm. It looked as if it would like to finish what Ulisse had started. She squeezed the animal and shushed her. “Spike wanted me to stay put and wait. But I’m getting Reb and taking you inside to see what you’ve done to yourself.”

  A red bird as big as an ostrich swooped in front of his face. Red bird that turned green, then yellow. The huge beak opened and a cottonmouth rolled out. The bird shook its feathers and drops of water flew, flew and turned into rainbow-colored confetti. Bad ride, he thought in his muzzy mind. When he tried to focus on Vivian she stretched and shrank and wouldn’t keep still.

  He shook his head. “You’re right that something happened to me. I’ve been cut in several places. I think it was the killer, only, he blindfolded me and I didn’t see him. He must have followed me to the theater. He thought I was dying and he left me there.” Fuck it, he couldn’t allow her to stay here and blow his cover.

  Vivian turned white. “Let’s find someone to take a message to Spike.”

  He put on a frightened expression. “I need the hospital.” He swayed a little but clung tightly to Vivian’s hand. “I was on my way but I stopped here to tell Spike about everything. I shouldn’t have. I should have gone right to get help. Please, I don’t like being the center of attention and I’m going to be if I don’t get out of here. Will you drive me to the hospital? I trust you, Vivian.”

  She stared into his face until he feared she saw inside his head and knew what he was up to. “My car is in the old stables,” she said. “Round back.”

  “Mine’s in front of Serenity House. We could cut through there. Just drop me off at Emergency and I’ll have someone contact you later. Tell Spike what I told you, but wait until you don’t have an audience. We don’t know enemies from friends around here.”

  Vivian backed away, past the bushes, pulling him with her. On the other side she said, “Can you hurry? Let me get an ambulance?”

  “No! I can hurry,” he told her. “I’m a strong man.”

  They made a run for the BMW.

  Chapter 44

  “Look what I’ve done.” Ellie didn’t scream or cry, she simply looked matter-of-factly down on the body of Olympia Hurst and spoke in an even voice.

  Spike knew shock when he saw it. He flipped on his radio and spoke into his collar mike. “This is Devol from Toussaint. Gimme Detective Bonine. Yeah? Where is he? No, you’re right, you don’t have to tell me a thing. How about Frank Wiley?” He said, “Sit down on that bench back there” to Ellie and she backed away slowly until she could do as she’d been told. “Detective Wiley? Frank? Thanks. Spike Devol here. I’m at Rosebank and we’ve got more trouble. Another body. You’ll probably want to bring on the army.”

  He peered over the edge of the pool. Cloth had been stuffed in her mouth as a crude gag. Everyone had to be kept away and, much as he wanted to go down and take a closer look, he knew he’d make points by waiting for the Iberia folks and doing nothing to disturb evidence.

  At the sound of footsteps on gravel, he spun around to see Wazoo, black garb flapping, speeding toward him. He motioned for her to go back but she kept on coming. Cyrus loped a step or two behind, looking exasperated.

  “Something gone wrong,” Wazoo said, and stopped beside Ellie so abruptly she might have had brakes on her shoes. “I felt it, me. I even bring this miserable God man with me and he don’t want to come here nohow.”

  “Great,” Spike muttered under his breath. “Wazoo, stay back. Go alert Marc, Bill, Joe, Ozaire, my dad and every other able-bodied man you can reach fast, and tell them not to allow anyone back here, and not to allow anyone to leave the property. Go!”

  She went, skimming across the ground as fast as she’d come.

  Cyrus got there, gave Ellie a sharp look and bent over the edge of the empty pool. For an insta
nt he bowed his head, then he crossed himself and said, “May I go down there?”

  “Not until the Iberia people get here. That’ll be soon.”

  “Poor kid,” Cyrus said. “Just a child still tryin’ to grow up.”

  Spike intended to do what he wasn’t supposed to do, ask Ellie some questions, but her blank face and empty eyes stopped him. Cyrus went to her and put a hand on her head. She looked up at him and he knelt to rest her head on his shoulder. “Be very quiet,” he said, his voice gentle. “Be peaceful. You aren’t alone here.”

  Spike decided he’d better do what he was always threatening to do and get lessons in woman handling from Cyrus one of these days.

  On the other hand, what Cyrus did probably came naturally.

  “I want to see her,” Ellie said in a loud voice. She ignored Cyrus’s attempt to stop her and joined Spike. “If I had called you last night this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “We don’t know that. We don’t know when she died.” From what he saw, he was pretty sure it hadn’t been too long ago but Ellie didn’t need to be told that.

  Cyrus came to Ellie’s other side. “Sentinels,” he said. “Odd how one always feels responsible for protecting the dead.”

  “I didn’t know what he’d do,” Ellie said. “But I knew it would be terrible. He said I’d know when to come for you, Spike. He cut my neck.” She showed him a small wound under her hair at the back of her neck. “When I turned around I couldn’t see anyone suspicious but I knew I was being told to go—and I thought someone else had probably died.”

  Later Ellie would need a lot of help.

  Spike heard sirens and they drew closer. Lots of sirens. Wazoo burst from the side of the building again and raced to them. Reb, with Gaston trotting beside her, followed much more slowly.

  Wazoo looked down at the carnage and soon Reb arrived to do the same. She shook her head and said, “Why would anyone do that to someone so beautiful and so needy? You’ll have her mother on your hands shortly. She’ll get wind of what’s happened and you won’t be able to stop her.” With great care and ignoring Spike’s protests, she climbed down some steps and onto the pool floor.