Blood on Celluloid

by B. L. Morgan

  “You’re dead wrong Bro.” He told me.

  “Come again?”

  “I doubt this had shit to do with you,” Johnny said. “One thing I’ve known about you for years is that you carry a big load of guilt on your head all the time. You tend to think anything bad happens in this world, it had to be your fault somehow. You’re too close to Sherry to be objective. Now I liked Sherry but I can still think about this from the outside. The people you did your dealings with, they'd kill you for a buck and a half. But torture? That wouldn’t make any sense from those kinds of dudes.

  Sherry was a beautiful woman and she wasn’t raped. Whoever killed her was trying to get some information.”

  I thought about that for a moment then said, “You’re probably right.”

  “Ain’t no probably to it,” Johnny said. “I know I’m right and so do you.”

  * * *

  We had to jump start my ancient Olds Delta 88 and when it finally kicked over the tailpipe belched out a cloud of smoke. The entire time I was attaching the jumper cables to the cars and juicing up the battery, my mind was working on what Johnny had said.

  When we got in the Olds and left the parking lot of Patty’s Kitten House behind, I drove us back to my apartment. We had a box of financial records and a few old personal contacts to check out.

  * * *

  In the apartment, the first place Johnny went to was to my refrigerator. He looked at it being empty, except for the bottle of Ancient Age whiskey, and said, “I can see you’re all set up for some nutritious meals.”

  “I got everything in there I need,” I told Johnny and it was right then that my stomach made a rumbling noise. It was getting to be two in the afternoon and those two breakfast burritos from McDonalds were a distant memory.

  “Why don’t you run out and get us some food?” I said to Johnny. “We’ll be able to check this stuff out while we’re eating something.”

  “I ain’t your mother fucking gopher,” Johnny said.

  “Look, I buy, you fly.”

  “All right, I’m in the mood for some White Castle Burgers. Those sound good to you?”

  “Yeah, I always like those,” I told Johnny. “But I thought they gave you the runs.”

  “They do, but I’ve been kind of stopped up lately. Feels like I’m carrying a ten pound bag of cement around with me. Those babies ought to loosen everything up.”

  He got up and I gave him some money.

  “And pick me up a few cans of tuna, too,” I told him.

  At the mention of the word tuna Tom came striding across the floor to us.

  “Damn, he even knows what the word means,” Johnny said.

  Tom gave Johnny a look that said, “Who you think is fucking stupid?”

  I told Johnny about Tom running off the drunks.

  “Shit, you a mean little mother fucker, ain’t you,” Johnny told Tom and kneeled down and scratched the top of his head.

  Tom purred.

  He was making out good today.

  CHAPTER 12

  Johnny went for the White Castles and I grabbed the box of financial records to go through.

  Most of what was in the box was the usual stuff, receipts for power bills, light bulbs, liquor, advertising, things like that. I glanced through it. Then I got the ledger from Sherry’s check book and started matching that to the receipts.

  I’m not sure why I was doing this. It really just seemed to be something to do. Sherry kept her bills paid. I wasn’t going to find out someone murdered her because a payment was overdue for her janitorial service.

  Then I saw something that didn’t make any sense. There was a payment written in and dated for the day that Sherry was murdered. The check was for twenty thousand dollars and it was made out to a William Po.

  Twenty Thousand dollars?

  That’s a lot of money to be paying to anyone in one lump sum. If Sherry was buying something for that much I’d have to figure I’d have known something about it.

  We were working at the same place and were living together too.

  Right then Johnny arrived with a dozen White Castle Burgers.

  I showed him the entry for the twenty thousand dollars.

  “Yeah, I’d have to figure that’s unusual.” He said.

  We broke open the burgers and attacked them, and went backwards through Sherry’s bank records. My stomach was knotting up and it wasn’t the White Castles that were causing it.

  Six months earlier to the day another check for twenty thousand dollars was in the ledger for William Po. There was another one six months before that to the same person. That was as far back as that check book reached.

  “We may have hit this on the head first try,” I told Johnny.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “This does not look right.”

  We kept eating and kept looking. What we looked for next in the box was the cancelled checks to William Po.

  I wasn’t feeling very hungry by then and ate automatically shoving the little burgers in my mouth and chewing them up like a grinding machine.

  Sherry kept everything in good order. It wasn’t a problem at all finding two cancelled checks to William Po. All of Sherry’s cancelled checks were in chronological order. We just went backward.

  They were exactly where they were supposed to be inside a rubber banded stack.

  Stamped across the front of the check was Bank of Tehan Setar.

  “You ever heard of that bank?” I asked Johnny.

  “Shit, I don’t think so,” he answered, “And it don’t sound like no bank around here.”

  While Johnny crammed more White Castle burgers into his mouth, I got Sherry’s cell phone from my jacket pocket and called Joe Briggs at the Police Department. I knew Joe was only a local cop with local connections but, what the hell, maybe he could get hold of someone who would know who this William Po is.

  After the phone rang five times it went to his answering machine. I left the message, “Joe, this is Dark. Going through Sherry’s records we came across the name of a William Po who we think is based in a place named Tehan Setar. Sherry was paying this guy some large sums of money. We don’t know what it means yet. If you can find out anything about this guy let me know. I’ll be at,” I left Sherry’s cell phone number on his machine.

  I hung up.

  * * *

  At the second National bank where Sherry had her account I asked to see one of their account specialists. Johnny and me was shown to a large desk off to the side of the lobby and told someone would be with us in a few minutes.

  We waited, listening to generic elevator music that would work really great as a sleep aid. The guy who showed up to help us was a young dude in his early twenties.

  We shook hands and he asked us, “How may I help you gentlemen?”

  I showed him one of the checks made out to William Po. “I need to know the address of where this payment went to,” I told the clerk.

  “And you are?” He asked.

  “I’m John Dark,” I answered.

  “Uh…No,” he said. “What I meant was who are you in relation to Miss Sherry St. Claire?”

  “She’s my woman,” I answered.

  “So you are married,” he said.

  “No, but we soon will be,” I told him.

  “Well,” the young guy said. “I can tell you more than likely William Po is from Tehan Setar but that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Look, I need to know where this money went to,” I told the young guy, who was sitting there with the self-satisfied smirk on his face of someone who knows you need something, and he has the power to stop you from getting it. “I think this William Po cheated Sherry out of this money and I aim to get it back for her.”

  The smile never left the clerk’s face. “Then Miss St. Claire will have to come in herself. We do not give out confidential information. If you were married, possibly, but just a boyfriend, I don’t think so.”

  It was that “just a boyfriend,” that got to me. That and th
e shit eating grin on his face.

  I stood up and leaned over the desk toward Mr. Account Specialist. “What if I slapped you so fucking hard you shit down both legs?”

  He leaned back in his chair.

  I went on.

  “Then I’d squeeze your balls till your eyes bulge out. Think you could give me that goddamned information then?”

  He rolled his office chair back from the desk.

  Johnny told me, “Woe boy, slow down! We ain’t gonna get shit this way.” He grabbed my arms and pulled me backward.

  “Leave now,” the young guy said, “Or I’ll call security.”

  “Fuck you,” I told him and Johnny pulled me toward the door.

  When we were outside Johnny told me, “That sure as shit went real smooth didn’t it.”

  “Well, fuck him. He’s an idiot,” I said.

  “Yeah, maybe he is,” Johnny told me, “But I’m doing most of the talking from now on. Man, you can’t fucking control yourself.”

  CHAPTER 13

  We headed to Johnny’s Bar and Grill. I needed a quiet place to make a phone call from.

  Johnny closed up for the day when Rodney called him and let him know I’d be living at my old place again. Johnny unlocked the door to his place and we went inside. His grandmother Jeanette was waiting for us at a candle lit table.

  She stood when I walked up to her and gave me a big bear hug. “I am so sorry to hear about what happened to Sherry,” Jeanette told me and her Cajun accented voice broke on the words. “I really liked that girl. She only did good for the people who knew her.”

  I started getting choked up too and hugged Jeanette back, but I couldn’t allow myself to let go and let the pain take hold of me. I’d be no good at getting done what I had to get done if I allowed that to happen.

  I pushed Jeanette away and took a step back. My voice was harsher than I wanted it to be. “Why don’t you break out that fucking crystal ball Jeanette?” I told her. “I need to know who tortured my woman to death. They need to pay!”

  Jeanette looked deeply into my eyes. She reached out a hand to touch my cheek. I turned away.

  “I only wish I could,” she said. “What I can touch is the spirit and supernatural realms. What happened to Sherry had nothing to do with any of that. She was touched by the evil that ordinary men create. Of that evil, I know no more than you do.”

  “That’s fucking great,” I told her.

  “She’s just being truthful,” Johnny told me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But right now the truth ain’t doing shit.”

  * * *

  I got Sherry’s cell phone from my jacket pocket and dialed Nash Graham, the head of the DEA in the Midwestern United States. Graham was the kind of guy who had contacts in practically everything. I’d done some jobs for him that were not even close to being legal, so I figured I’d make use of his information network for a change.

  Where it was a question as to whether or not Joe Briggs could get any information on William Po, the only way Nash Graham would come up dry was if William Po didn’t exist.

  On the second ring a secretary answered.

  “I need to speak to Nash Graham,” I told her.

  “And what is your business with Mr. Graham?” She asked.

  “Just tell him John Dark called and to call me back immediately at,” I reeled off Sherry’s cell number.

  “I need to know your business please,” the secretary asked again.

  I spoke slowly. “Tell him John Dark called.” I hung up.

  Thirty seconds later the phone rang.

  I flipped the phone open.

  “What do you need, John?” Graham said without even saying who he was.

  I told him about what happened to Sherry.

  “I’m real sorry to hear that,” Graham told me, but the tone of voice he used let me know that I might as well have told him that my favorite football team just lost. Basically, he didn’t know Sherry so he didn’t give a shit.

  “I need to have you check out a name and let me know whatever you find out about it. The name is William Po. I think he’s from a place named Tehan Setar.”

  Graham cut me off with, “I can’t use company resources for personal matters. I’m sorry but…”

  I cut him off, “Remember a little while back when you hired me to eliminate a certain cross dresser who black mailed your son into suicide? I think I’d call that a personal matter and I know you didn’t pay me out of your own pocket.”

  “Look John, I can’t,” Graham said.

  “Look Graham,” I told him. “You either come up with something about this guy or these news reporters who want to talk to me are going to get a long story about DEA chiefs who cover their own asses by hiring people like me to kill for them.”

  “Are you threatening me? Because if you are I’ll send some boys after you to…”

  I cut him off again, “I don’t give a fuck about you,” I told Graham. “Make some phone calls. Use your contacts and just let me know who this guy is. You do this for me and I’ll do the next job you want for free.”

  “You’re damn right you will,” Graham said. “Besides, I thought you were retired.”

  “Not anymore,” I told him. “The reason I retired is dead.”

  There was silence on the line between us for ten long seconds then Graham said, “OK. I’ll find out whatever I can on William Po from Tehan Setar. You owe me one.”

  “I always pay my debts,” I told him.

  “You’ll pay me,” he said and hung up.

  CHAPTER 14

  As soon as the phone disconnected the silence in Johnny’s Bar and Grill fell over us like a heavy blanket. Johnny had locked the front door behind us so no customers could come in. Jeanette went upstairs to the apartment she was sharing with Johnny to do whatever the hell it is that grandmothers do.

  I looked at Johnny.

  He looked at me.

  “Well, what the fuck do we do now?” I asked.

  “Not much I figure we can do right now,” Johnny answered. “We gotta wait for Graham or Joe to call us back with some info.”

  “I can’t just wait,” I told him. “I’ll go insane after about five minutes if I just sit around.”

  “Let’s go out then,” Johnny said. “A couple beers will do us some good.”

  “I don’t drink,” I told Johnny.

  “Why the fuck not?” Johnny asked. “You got someone waiting up for you?”

  I gave Johnny a FUCK YOU! look.

  “I’m sorry, bro,” Johnny said. “My mouth over-ran my ass. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” I told him. “Problem is you’re right.”

  We headed toward the door. Just as Johnny grabbed hold of the knob I said, “Wait a second. I need to make another call.”

  While Johnny waited I called Paul Harris. He answered on the second ring.

  “John Dark here,” I told him. “How are the arrangements for Sherry’s funeral going?”

  “Everything is set,” he answered. “Day after tomorrow, eleven in the morning at St. Luke’s on Sullivan Avenue. They want you there about ten to make sure all the arrangements are the way you want them.”

  “Everything will be ok,” I told Paul. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

  Paul said, “You don’t have to. This is not an easy time for you. I also found notes that you had Kira Brooks and Lisa Rios buried at Pine Bluff Cemetery and took the liberty of buying a plot over there for Sherry.”

  Two women who had been in my life were in the ground in Pine Bluff. Soon another would be. If things kept going like this the women in John Dark’s life would have their own section in that graveyard.

  I must have been silent for too long because Paul said, “If you want to I can change that. Any of these arrangements can be changed.”

  “No, that’s fine,” I told him.

  We said our good-byes and hung up.

  I looked at Johnny.<
br />
  “Let’s go get a buzz,” he said. “We both need it.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  * * *

  A light dusting of snow was starting to fall as we climbed into my old Olds Delta 88. The wind was raw and the temperature was dropping. The entire St. Louis metropolitan area was getting set to be put into the deep freeze. The weather fit me like a glove. With what had happened to Sherry my world would never be a warm place again.

  It took a few minutes for the car to warm up. Sitting unused for the better part of a year hadn’t done this old motor any good. After wheezing and coughing for about ten minutes I was finally able to make the car roll away from the curb.

  We breathed heavy grey clouds inside the car that fogged the windshield up. The defroster wasn’t for shit and neither was the heater. As the car coughed on down the road I just kept wiping the windshield with my hand and kept on driving.

  Johnny didn’t even ask me where I was driving to. We both pretty much like the same kind of things, and since we weren’t choir boys it was a sure bet I wasn’t taking us to a Baptist Revival Meeting.

  The roads were not slick…yet. The snow was drifting down like the ash from a heaven burned away. Last week I was living in heaven and didn’t even know it. This week everything inside me was burned away.

  Johnny wasn’t surprised when I traced the roads to the outskirts of East St. Louis and pulled into the parking lot of a little strip club named Roxie’s.

  Alcohol and loose women and sex without meaning, make that life without meaning, that’s all that is left for me now.

  That, and revenge.

  They say revenge is sweet. I don’t even give a fuck about that. I just want the bastards who hurt Sherry to feel as much pain as I have. Then I want them to feel nothing at all forever. Just like me.

  The only difference between them and me is that I’ll still be breathing.

  CHAPTER 15

  The flickering neon signs outside Roxie’s gave the place a carnival atmosphere. I didn’t feel like celebrating but we went in anyway. At the door the bouncer recognized me and told me how sorry he was about Sherry’s death, then waved us past without charging us the cover of five dollars each.