Stagecoach Road

by Daniel Kamen

  “What’s going on?” Rings asked. “Someone you know?”

  “Be quiet for a second,” Benny said. “Just look straight ahead. I think I see someone I know. He’s way on the bottom. Don’t look! Is that who I think it is?”

  “Who? Where?” asked Rings, looking for someone familiar.

  “Please!” Benny pleaded. “Just look straight ahead and follow me.”

  Both of them walked along the upper part of the bleachers until they came to the end near the clubhouse. Benny looked down for a second and saw the man was gone.

  The live races were about to start. Both the upper and lower levels of the track had betting windows. As long as he was closer to the upper level, Benny decided to make his fourth race bet there and leave. He and Rings walked up to the betting window. Benny took out a wad of hundreds and softly called out his bet to the teller: “Balmoral, fourth race, eight hundred to win on Gerald’s Pal, number 5.” The program odds on Gerald’s Pal were 9-1, but that could change by post time. Benny looked at the ticket and clipped it to his billfold and put it in his left pants pocket. He and Rings made their way to the exit.

  “Let’s go,” Benny said while pulling out his keys.

  “In a few minutes,” Rings said, hesitating for an instant. “I have to drop the kids off at the pool.”

  “Do what?” Benny asked.

  “I have to take a shit!”

  “Oh, okay. Why didn’t you say so?

  Rings headed for the nearest toilet.

  “I’ll be waiting in the car,” Benny blurted out. “Try not to take too long.”

  Benny walked to his car and sat inside to wait for Rings. He took out his notepad and jotted down a few more things. Yeah, yeah, thought Benny. We have to do this tonight, sloppily scribbling with his silver steel pen.

  Fifteen minutes went by as Benny patiently waited for Rings. Then he heard three loud knocks on the back window. Bang! Bang! Bang! It was Rings.

  “You scared me,” Benny said, catching his breath while Rings got in the passenger’s side. “There’s nothing subtle about you. What the hell took you so long?”

  Rings buckled up and pulled a new cigar from the glove compartment.

  “Hey, man--nine White Castles with cheese can plug up the plumbing.”

  Benny shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Oh, you pig you. You ate nine sliders with cheese today?”

  “Yeah, but they gone now,” Rings said, patting his intestines.

  “Good. I’m glad you feel better because we got a long night ahead of us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Monday evening, May 25th, 1992. It was approaching 9 p.m. Both Gerald and Frank took a sick day and stayed home from work. They needed time alone to talk about things--like what the Lieutenant said about Benny. Frank went to Gerald’s house and sat in his unbelievably filthy living room, drinking Bud and smoking Kool 100’s. It was the kind of environment Frank was used to. Gerald’s four Pit Bulls were caged in the kitchen and barked like the mad dogs they were when Gerald arrived just minutes earlier. The tormented beasts calmed down when they recognized Gerald’s familiar smell.

  “That nigger has me worried,” Frank said, referring to Lt. Jefferson. “He made a special trip to my house just to tell me. He could have easily called me up. I’m in the book.”

  Gerald brought another cold six pack from the refrigerator and placed it on the floor next to Frank’s feet. An ashtray loaded with cigarette butts, smoked to the nub, sat on an old splintered stack of pallets, Gerald’s coffee table. Though not barking, the dogs were whining plenty in the background as the two friends chatted.

  “I called Chrissy earlier today,” Gerald said. “She’s all broken up about Murphy--said Chad hasn’t said a word since the funeral.”

  Frank looked around the room and put his hands to his mouth.

  “Man, it stinks in here more than usual,” Frank said, who usually didn’t complain about such things. “Have the dogs been inside all day?”

  Gerald grabbed a beer and lit a cigarette.

  “Yeah, they have. I was just about to let them out when you came.”

  “Why don’t you do that,” Frank said. “I’m sad about my dogs. The nigger cop killed ‘em all.”

  Gerald opened the cages and let the dogs out through the broken back screen door. All four relished their first taste of freedom of the day and careened out all at once, scampering around the backyard like they were trying out a new set of legs. They tired after a few minutes, then settled in their dog houses for the evening.

  “We’ve got to do something about that motherfucker,” Frank said while Gerald reclined on his huge soft couch.

  “If you’re referring to Benny the Jew you may as well forget it,” Gerald assured his anxious buddy. “That kike doesn’t have the balls to kill anyone. He’s a scared rabbit. Motherfucker, sending us to the pen like that. No, it’s someone else. Now think, who did Tommy and Murphy piss off?”

  Frank took a long drag from his menthol cigarette and chugged the rest of his beer.

  “Weinstein, the Jew, that’s who!” Frank exclaimed. “I don’t think Tommy spoke to Murphy all that much. Ever since Tommy got all big with his shop he stopped talking to all of us. It’s got to be the Jew.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” Gerald surmised. “What would make him do something like this after all these years? If he wanted us dead he would have done that years ago.”

  It was 9:17 p.m. and completely dark outside. Tyler Road had street lights but most were broken. The city didn’t allocate any funds to fix them and no one complained. Everyone on the block liked it that way. The black of night also suited Benny and Rings. After leaving the track they drove back to the bowling alley so Rings could get his suburban. Benny told Rings to follow him. It was going to take a while. They drove to Stagecoach Road. Rings didn’t know why but he dutifully followed his new dad to that old deserted road. Rings followed him all the way to the tree. The tree. Benny’s tree. Benny had to show it to Rings.

  Benny parked his car deep to the side, past some bushes and into the woods, where it remained out of sight. Rings parked his white GMC next to Benny’s. They both got out of their vehicles and Benny touched Rings on his shoulder.

  “Follow me,” Benny said, escorting Rings to the Jon boat where all of the evidence was stashed.

  Though nervous, Rings curiously followed Benny until they came upon the hidden boat. Benny took off the cover, revealing his pistol, tranquilizer gun, drugs, clothes, pictures--everything.

  “So now you know I’m for real,” Benny said while Rings gasped and adjusted his Public Enemy cap. “It’s all here. Everything you sold me--the guns, Sucostrin, needles, the works.”

  “My God,” Rings said. “Look at all this shit.”

  “Take a good look,” said Benny, showing Rings a picture he took of Tommy shortly after decapitating him in the lagoon.

  Rings grabbed the picture and studied it then gave it back to Benny.

  “Jesus, he doesn’t look human,” Rings gasped as a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. “Oh shit, I touched it. I’ve got my fingerprints on it.”

  Benny snickered. “Don’t worry about that. I’m going to destroy everything in a few days. Here, take a look at these, too,” handing Rings another set of prints. They were pictures of Tommy and Murphy being tortured.

  “I took these pictures here,” Benny said as he pointed to the exact spot on the ground. “Right here! Right in the spot I’m standing now. Right here!”

  “What are we doing right here?” Rings pensively asked as he handed the other photos back to Benny.

  Benny took a few items from the boat then went to his car and pulled out the bag of drugs Rings brought that night.

  “I need your help,” Benny said. “Can we use your truck?”

  It was now approaching 10:45 p.m. Frank and Gerald were good and plastered and passed out--Gerald on his couch and Frank on the urine stained carpet. The dogs remained out
side, drinking up the cool spring air and fast asleep.

  Benny left his car on Stagecoach Road. Benny drove while Rings did his best to clean the inside of his messy GMC during the trip--mostly fast food wrappers. They were on their way to Gerald’s house. Benny had no idea Gerald was home. He only had one thing in mind that night--get rid of the dogs.

  “I’d like to stop and tell J.J. I’m with friends,” Rings said. “He gets all worried when I don’t call.”

  “Okay, good idea,” Benny agreed. “You can make a call from the Gas ‘N Go. Does J.J. know you’re with me?”

  “Yes, I told him I was making a delivery. Don’t worry--everything’s cool.”

  Benny pulled into the gas station and parked close to the front entrance. Rings got out.

  “Be back in less than a minute,” Rings said while pulling a quarter out from his pants pocket.

  Benny waited. His eyes immediately fixed at the sign next door: Gunther Tire & Auto Supply. I wonder who’s minding the store? Benny thought. Gee, I hope business is good. You know, a thing like murder can really put a damper on business. I sure hope it’s going well.

  Rings emerged from the store with a smile on his face.

  “What’s so funny?” Benny asked. “A girl make a pass at you or something?”

  Rings got in the car, smiling ear to ear.

  “J.J. told me he and Twila were arguing about money just now--says he needs a few thousand dollars to buy a powered wheelchair for Twila and doesn’t know where he can come up with the money. I didn’t tell him about the money I won. I want to surprise everyone.”

  “You’re a fine son, Rings. Eddy would have been real proud of you. You’re just like him.”

  Rings took that as the supreme compliment. He only heard good things about his father and wanted desperately to be like him. And what better than to hear these things from someone who knew him best.

  They got back in the car and drove west down Route 12, heading towards Tyler Road. But they had to prepare.

  “Rings, load up a Sucostrin dart for me please.”

  “Sure Sox. What do you plan on doing with it?”

  “I’ve got to take care of a dog or two. Have a few more ready just in case.”

  Rings prepared half a dozen darts. He knew what he was doing and had them all ready in less than five minutes.

  “I just thought of something,” Rings said. “Don’t you have to call your wife? Doesn’t she care where you are?”

  Benny tucked a cold cigar in his mouth and looked at Rings like he already should know.

  “What?” Rings asked. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing,” said Benny. “Yes, I’m married to a pretty, smart, capable, shapely lady who gave birth to two wonderful children.”

  “So? Sounds like a winner.”

  “I thought so too. But she’s also a two-timer. Do you know who she was fucking around with? Tommy, that’s who. One of the guys I killed. You know that tire center next to the gas station we were just at--that was Tommy’s.”

  “No shit!” Rings said. “How do you know she was fucking him? Tommy tell you?”

  “She accidently left that information on our answering machine while she was talking to one of her girlfriends. She doesn’t know I know. I don’t care to call her. In fact I’m through with her, only she doesn’t know it. When Frank and Gerald are dead, then I’m gone. Outta there!”

  “Gee, that’s too bad,” Rings said. “I mean, fucking around with the guy you hated most.”

  “Not as bad as all that--kind of gives me the freedom I’ve been missing all these years,” Benny added. “If you ever get married you’ll see what I mean.”

  “Nope, not me!” Rings said, confidently confirming his bachelorhood. “I like the ladies too much and they like me. Marriage is out of the question.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Benny said, smiling at Rings’ naivety. “You think you know women because you haven’t been caught yet. Here you are, young, smart, good looking and personable. No doubt women like you. But one day you’ll meet someone and say one stupid thing after another like ‘I love you,’ and ‘I can’t live without you,’ and other shit like that. And before you know it she’ll be making wedding plans and you’ll go along with it--not knowing what you’re getting into--then you’ll think it’s too late to back out. But it isn’t--only you don’t know that.”

  “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Word for word,” Benny said. “And the worst part is that she was very pretty. And you think, ‘Wow, will I ever find another girl like that!’ Okay, man,” Benny said to his clueless pal. “You know best. Just keep fixing those darts.”

  They turned down Tyler Road about 11:25 p.m. Benny stopped Rings’ white suburban a block short of Gerald’s house and decided to drive behind the row of houses through the narrow alley. Benny was very familiar with these types of alleys. Until he was about five, Benny’s family lived near that part of Gary during the days it was still safe to walk the streets at night. He remembered how cluttered his alley was with the old fashioned metal garbage cans and tons of junk from everywhere. Neighbors discarded old swing sets and lawn furniture next to those silver but mostly rusted cans. Kids would have a time playing with that stuff like it was their own personal Adventureland--never mind the filth and the wires sticking out of old mattresses. And oh was it a thrill to see the old orange garbage truck slowly making its way down the alley once a week, and watching the rear loader swallow and compact massive amounts of multi-colored trash--like a giant mechanical elephant.

  Benny slowed to 10 mph as he approached the back of Gerald’s house. He knew it was Gerald’s house when he saw the dog houses and mounds of trash sitting in the tall grass which was mostly weeds. He stopped behind the chain link fence but kept the motor running.

  “Where are we?” Rings asked in a voice too loud for the quiet evening.

  “Shhh! Not so loud,” Benny whispered. “We’re behind Gerald Hill’s house. You know, that guy who cut your daddy’s dick. He was the one. And he’s next.”

  Rings was scared. “You gonna kill him now? Here?”

  “Shhh! You’re talking too loud,” Benny said, scolding Rings. “He’s not home. He’s at work. I just have to get those damn dogs out of the way. I don’t want anything in my way when I come back tomorrow night.”

  Benny grabbed his tranquilizer rifle and quietly got out of the car. Rings got out too, following Benny close behind with a fistful of loaded darts.

  “Look at them,” Benny said, pointing to the dogs. “He’s got all of his mutts running loose in the yard. Great--now’s the time! Hand me a dart.”

  Benny loaded a dart in the rifle. He knew full well almost any dose of Sucostrin would kill a mammal that small--especially a human-sized dose. One of the dogs was close to the fence and didn’t hear Benny approach as he lifted the rifle and took aim from about twelve feet.

  Phhhhoooooot! “Bullseye!” Benny exclaimed with delight, nailing the angry Pit Bull in the gluteus maximus.

  The dog let out a weak yelp and quickly fell to the ground. “Three more,” Benny said. “Give me three more darts.”

  Rings extended his arm, handing the darts to Benny. The remaining dogs gathered around their wounded friend.

  “Good. Very good!” said Benny. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  Benny remained behind the fence as he shot off another dart--this time hitting a dog in his side. “Hey, there’s enough junk in there to kill a moose,” Benny bragged to Rings. “That pooch should be dead in short order.”

  The first dog wasn’t moving and his chest wasn’t expanding. He was dead. The second one died seconds later. By this time the other two dogs were frantic and making all sorts of noise. Benny put an end to that by firing darts into them too, fumbling only slightly while loading the fourth dart. But the yelps didn’t go unnoticed. All of a sudden the kitchen light went on in Gerald’s house.

  “FUCK!” Benny shouted. “Someone’s home!”


  Benny hastily tossed the rifle in the back seat while Rings did something really stupid--he jumped over the fence to collect the spent cartridges.

  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Benny yelled as he watched Rings collect the useless pieces of plastic. GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!”

  “I’M PICKING UP THE EVIDENCE,” Rings shouted back, thinking he was doing Benny a favor--not seeing Gerald bolt out from his back door, shotgun in hand and running towards him at full speed. Benny saw Gerald lift up the shotgun and point it at Rings.

  “WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING, NIGGER!” Gerald yelled, not seeing Benny at first. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU DO TO MY DOGS?”

  Rings froze in place--the shotgun barrel pointing at his left ear. Benny jumped the fence and ran towards Gerald, tackling him from behind. The shotgun flung into the air and landed next to one of the dead dogs. The strong stench of alcohol permeated from Gerald’s mouth as they fell to the ground. Though drunk, Gerald was much stronger than Benny as the two violently wrestled on the ground.

  “JAB A DART IN HIM! JAB A DART IN HIM!” Benny cried out to Rings as Gerald overpowered Benny, pinning him to the nasty feces laced soil.

  Rings placed a fresh Sucostrin dart between his thumb and forefinger and jumped on Gerald’s back, then, with all of his might, he stabbed the dart in the middle of Gerald’s back. The sting of the dart didn’t seem to faze Gerald as he punched Benny in the face three times with his hard fists. Each punch to his face brought back vivid memories of the night in ‘73. It was happening again.

  “I knew it was you, you fucking Jew! And you brought a scared nigger along for help, didn’t you, you fucking Jew! You killed my buddies, you fucking Jew. Didn’t you Jew?” Gerald had both hands around Benny’s neck and vigorously shook it, as Benny’s helpless head bounced off the ground a dozen times. “Now you’re gonna die Jew. Hitler had the right idea. He should have cut your daddy’s balls off while he had the chance and put him in the oven, too.”

  Benny was dazed, and his face was swollen and bloodied, but was still very conscious. Rings was doing his best to pull Gerald off of his buddy but wasn’t doing a very good job of it until the drug kicked in. Thankfully, it did. Gerald released Benny’s neck and fell backwards. The combination of booze, Sucostrin, and fighting was too much for him. Benny seized the moment to grab the last dart from Rings and forcefully stuck it in Gerald’s left thigh. Within two minutes, he was motionless but alive.