The night before he left, he called Billy’s girlfriend, Merry. “What do you know about Billy’s hometown?” he asked her.
“Virtually nothing. He said he lived there until right after high school. It was totally small—everyone knew everyone else, and he thought maybe related to everyone else. Billy said he was bored every minute of his life there, but Chicago wasn’t too far away, so for a little excitement when he got old enough to have a car he would drive there. He told me he never even wanted to come back to Calypso to visit. I thought that was a little odd, and I asked him if his parents were still alive. He said they were, and also a sister and uncle, but he didn’t want to have anything to do with them. I asked him why, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.”
Those kinds of words told Todd that possibly something bad happened back there, and it could be that something from that past that caused Billy’s death.
The next morning at six A.M. to beat the traffic coming out of Philly Todd began his journey. It wasn’t a good beginning because less than thirty minutes later, with Todd just barely out of range of the city a tanker truck overturned causing him to detour thirty miles to be able to reach the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Then it was all Turnpike and Toll Roads. Nine hours later Todd pulled into that same gas station with the twenty-foot high lampposts keeping watch over the twin gas pumps.
And sure enough, like an endless loop on a computer screen there came the same hefty man with the bib overalls and no shirt. Todd hoped the overalls and possible underwear had been washed in the meantime. The man said the same thing as before that he would pump the gas and then inquired if Todd wanted the oil checked. There was some variance because Todd noted that the gas today was even ten cents cheaper than it had been before. Why was his memory of this place so crystal clear? It could be that it remained frozen in his mind because he was a hundred per cent sure he would never be back, and he wanted to remember this unique moment in time. He even remembered the guy’s name.
As the man was putting the pump into the gas tank, Todd said, “I know you. You’re Willy.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t seem surprised that I know you.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Town’s small. We all know each other here.”
“Then do you know me?”
“Nope.”
“That’s because I’m not from around here, but I still remembered your name. Isn’t that pretty amazing?”
“Nope.”
By that time the gas was pumped and Todd was again paying in cash, of course.
“I think I might be staying in town for a few days. Is there a hotel or motel in town?”
“Nope.”
“Well, where do visitors stay?”
“Don’t get many visitors. Rooming house straight down this road into town. Ma Brightly’s place.”
“So I should talk her about a room?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Dead, two years ago. Daughter runs it. Lulu.”
“Thanks for the help.”
“Yep.” The man shuffled back to the shack that seemed to be only one room. Todd could not see any TV or radio in there. What did Willy do while waiting for another customer? This wasn’t exactly the crossroads of America. What if another car didn’t come by for three or four more hours? Or at all that day? Those thoughts were making Todd uncomfortable so he did what he did to most of his uncomfortable thoughts. He dismissed them and set out to find Lulu.
CHAPTER NINE
He drove straight out the other side of town before he realized he had driven straight out the other side. On the way he had passed a bar, a general store, and a church. That was it, he guessed for the main street. The Ma Brightly rooming house must not be on this street.
There was on old man with an actual corncob pipe sitting on a rocking chair on the porch of the general store. Todd knew it was the general store because the sign over the door said, GENERAL STORE in big block letters. He stopped the car and leaned out the passenger window. “I’m looking for the Ma Brightly place,” he said.
The man had been staring at a fencepost and he didn’t look up right away. When he did, he said, “She’s dead.”
“Yes, I know that. I’m looking for Lulu.”
“She runs the Brightly place now.”
“I know that, also. Can you tell me where to find it?”
“You’re looking at it.”
“But the sign says General Store.”
“We don’t put a lot of stock in words here in town. This building used to be the rooming house until Ma died. Then Lulu took it over and turned most of it into a store. There are still three rooms upstairs for sleeping. Lulu has one of them and she rents out the other two.”
It seemed that the effort for all that language had exhausted the man, and he went back to staring at the fencepost.
To be friendly, Todd asked, “Did Ma Brightly die suddenly or have an illness?”
Again, it took the man almost a full minute to look back up. “Shot to death,” he said. The he turned and pointed up. “In that middle room. Lulu keeps that vacant most of the time since. She rents out the other room.”
Todd was coming to the conclusion that actually in the entire town there was one room to rent, and possibly he could be in luck and get it.
“Where might I find Lulu?”
“In the bar, across the street. Spends most of her time there.”
“Who runs the store?”
“I do. I’m her dad. Clem.”
“So Ma Brightly was your wife?”
“Yep.”
Todd was beginning to feel he should just keep going straight out of town and back to Philly, but he was supposed to be a crime investigator. “Is it all right if I leave the car here?” he asked Clem.
“Only for an hour. Then they come by to sweep the streets.”
“Really?”
“No, I was just making a joke. Lulu tells me I shouldn’t trick people with my jokes, but I like to do it.”
Todd made sure his car was locked so that Clem would not pull any more jokes inside it, and walked across to the bar. Yes, over the door it said, BAR, but now Todd was becoming more accustomed to the town, so maybe it wasn’t really a bar but a gymnasium.
No, when he walked in, sure enough it was a bar. He saw plenty of bottles under the huge mirror about ten feet away from a slab of curved redwood with six stools in front of it. On one of the stools sat a young girl with shorts and a halter top. Her bare back had two tattoos, one of a skull and crossbones and the other of a windmill. The only other furniture in the room were two tables encircled by three chairs each. The woman on the stool looked to be the only occupant in the place although there was an upstairs balcony and some rooms beyond it. Todd wondered why those rooms were not rented out for guests passing through. He would ask the girl.
He started to walk toward the two tattoos at the same time saying, “Hello.”
In keeping with the rest of the town’s welcoming spirit, she did not turn around.
Todd sat down next to her. “I’m just visiting, and I wanted to--.”
The girl put her head down inside her arms as if she was going to take a nap. Down in that position she began to speak with her words coming out a little hollow. “Do you want a medal for visiting? What do you want in town? We don’t get many visitors.”
“I figured that, but I am going to stay a few days, and--.”
She suddenly raised her head and turned her face toward Todd. She had startling blue yes, full lips and perfectly smooth skin. She might have just barely been out of her teens. “I don’t want to discourage you, sir, but I don’t think you’ll want to stay a few days, maybe not even one. I’m trying to get the hell out of here as fast as I can whenever I get enough money. Do you have any money you can give me?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“That’s too bad.” She put her head back down.
“I don
’t mean to disturb your sleep, but--.”
“I’m not sleeping, just drunk. I started at nine this morning. What time is it now?”
“Almost six.”
“Hell, too much time before I can go to sleep again.”
“I wanted to ask you, Miss, about a room to rent, and I’m wondering why those rooms up off the balcony up there aren’t for rent.”
“That’s how I’m making some of my money. There’s a few people up there right now enjoying each other. I change the sheets every three days and bring them up drinks when they want them. They pay me.”
“So there’s no bartender here?”
“Shot to death a year ago.”
Todd now recalled the gas station attendant the first time Todd was there saying how peaceful the people there were. Two murders in two years?
“I don’t mean to bring this up, and I’m sorry for your loss, but you mom was also shot to death.”
“Yes, a year earlier to the date.”
“Really, the same day.”
“Actually the same time of the day.”
Todd tried to be light about it. I’m glad I won’t be around here for that anniversary this year.”
“That’s why I said about you not wanting to stay here. The anniversary is tomorrow at ten A.M.”
CHAPTER TEN
It seemed that Todd had come into town while a serial killer was loose and perhaps aiming to add to his or her totals tomorrow.
“So no one has solved those two murders?” he asked Lulu.
“Well, there is a sheriff and one deputy, but he’s only sheriff because no one else will do it. He used to be the undertaker, and I guess he got angry that someone was giving him more dead bodies than natural. He’s only been sheriff now ten months ago after the second murder. Before becoming the undertaker and sheriff he was the preacher at the church which he still is. His deputy is his brother, and he’s an idiot. So, to answer your question, no, no one has solved those two murders.”
“So this man has three jobs now? Undertaker, sheriff, and preacher?”
“Not exactly. His wife now has taken over the undertaking duties. She learned from watching him all these years. There aren’t too many people in town who aren’t working at the canning factory or the Wal-Mart, so a lot of us have double duty. I’m the bartender here besides running the upstairs activity. I can get you a shot of whiskey, but it’ll be ten dollars.”
“Ten dollars?”
“I told you, I’m trying to make enough money to get out of this town. I have about half of it saved, I think. The people upstairs pay twenty dollars a drink.”
Todd paid for his drink. That first sip burned but felt good going down.
“I would like that room across the road that you have for rent.”
“Not the middle one.”
“Yes, I know about that one.’
“Well, sure, stay and take your chances. I hope you’re not the one that gets shot tomorrow.”
“You’re sure there will be a killing?”
“Most of us here live in a pattern of repetition. A serial killer wouldn’t be any different. That’ll be $200 a night for the room.”
“You don’t have to tell me—you’re trying to make enough money to leave town. By the way, I haven’t had anything to eat all day. I’m already feeling a little tipsy from these two sips. Is there any place around here to get a meal?”
“At the McDonald’s about a mile from here.”
“There’s a McDonald’s in town?”
“When you have a monopoly you’ll make a lot of money. There are no other stores or restaurants besides Wal-Mart and McDonald’s so they do all right. Everyone in town shops at Wal-Mart and eats at McDonald’s. Why wouldn’t we? We’re Americans?”
“I’m actually an officer of the law myself. Maybe I can help catch this serial killer.”
“Oh, everyone knows who’s been doing the killings?”
“Really?”
“Well, we know it’s someone from that family.”
“Family?”
“Yeah, the Jessups. They live in that big farmhouse area a couple miles from here. It’s a whole clan, Ma, Pa, Sis, and Uncle. They’re evil.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they’ve always been mean to everyone. They never say a kind word and won’t mingle with the rest of us. I think they got here from another planet.”
Todd drove to the McDonald’s. There were no golden arches, just a big sign over the door that said EAT. In smaller letters underneath the words, it said, Get our Big Mac. Even though it was dinnertime, no one was in the place other than the attendant behind the counter. Todd thought he recognized the attendant.
“Clem, is that you?”
“Who else would be wearing my clothes?”
“You run the general store, rooming house, and work here also?”
“I don’t usually work here, but people have all shut themselves in because they’re afraid of the murder that’s going to happen tomorrow at ten.”
“Your daughter seemed sure the murder was going to occur, and you seem to feel the same way.”
“It’s a pattern. We like patterns here in town. What can I get you?”
Todd ordered a Big Mac, fries, and a chocolate shake. When Clem brought the food, Todd asked him, “You don’t seem to be hiding. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be killed?”
“I’m old, almost dead already. There would be no point in killing me.”
“What was the point in killing your wife and the bartender?”
“I think it was for religious reasons.”
“Religious reasons?”
“To make the town pure.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Walt and Ma were having an affair, going on for four years now. I think the killer wanted it to stop.”
“I would think you would want it to stop. Maybe you killed the both of them?”
“I would not want to interrupt true love. Ma and I were in love for about a year, but that was about it.”
“Who would want to do that religious thing, like you call it?”
“I don’t know because I’m not the sheriff. You should ask him.”
“Where would I find him?”
“At the church, two blocks down. See, he was always the preacher and undertaker, but he took over when--.”
“Yes, I know Lulu told me. She’s still over at the bar. Aren’t you afraid she could be the next victim of the serial killer?”
“No way. Lulu can take care of herself. She’s still angry about her Mama getting killed. That killer should fear her.”
Todd finished his meal and headed over to the church.
Following Clem’s directions, Todd came upon a single story whitewashed building. As he approached he thought the building had a cross at the top, but it was really a weathervane rooster slowly turned in the breeze. At the side of the building was a muscular man whose red hair matched his shirt and pants.
“I’m looking for Sheriff Carbon,” Todd said.
“Larry’s inside getting his sermon ready. I’m his brother, Flip.”
“Flip, is that short for something else.”
“The name is short enough, don’t you think? No, it’s just Flip. My daddy said he flipped when I came out.”
“Looks like you’re starting to paint the outside of the. . .uh. . .church?”
“I’m not starting; I’m finishing.”
“But you’ve painted only half this side.”
“I do half a side a month. Then it gives me something to do the next month.”
Todd was not going to ask him about the serial killer.
Inside, standing at the pulpit in front of the altar was a man at least six inches taller than Flip, who himself probably was close to six feet. He was bent over the pulpit scribbling something on a piece of paper. Todd told himself the two brothers were not Carbon copies, and then asked God to forgive him for the bad joke.
Todd got to only
halfway up the aisle when the man looked up with his thick black mustache and said, “Don’t come any closer. Sit down right there where you are.”
Todd thought Carbon might be thinking of him, the stranger in town, as the serial killer, but Larry had another agenda.
Larry Carbon had a booming voice. “Now, pretend you’re part of my congregation. Which of these phrases sounds better: Our merciful savior, or our forgiving savior?”
“Forgiving sounds better. There’s more action there.”
“I thought so, too. If you’re a salesman, we have plenty of Bibles, and for embalming fluid, my wife takes care of the corpses now. She’s at the house in back.”
“I’m not a salesman. I want to talk to you about the murders you have had here in the last two years.”
“Yes, one a year. Another one due tomorrow.”
“You don’t seem to be doing anything to stop that one tomorrow from happening.”
“Ah, boy, you underestimate the power of the Lord. Tomorrow morning at my early sermon I’m going to preach against it happening. The power of the Almighty will stop it.”
“Do you have any idea who might have done the other two killings?”
“Sure, it’s one of those Jessup people.”
“How do you know that?”
“Who else could it be?”
To Todd, this did not seem like a superb sleuthing mind at work. “I’m an officer of the law myself. I’m in town for a case I’m working on, but maybe I can help you catch this serial killer.”
Larry looked at Todd with a steely gaze. “I don’t need any help, so you might as well just head back out of town.”
“The case I’m working on is a murder of another Jessup, Billy. He was killed right outside Philadelphia.”
“Well, then it eliminates him as a suspect here. Billy left here years ago. The killer then must be one of the other Jessups who are still in town.”
“You don’t seem to have any proof; at least you aren’t telling me about any facts that are leading you to this conclusion.”
“I have plenty of facts. Now leave me alone. Let me finish my sermon. I’m giving it here at nine tomorrow, and you will see that it will prevent the third murder. Then I will arrest the killer because I do have those facts that you are talking about.”
Return to Murder Page 5