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Ragged Man

Page 15

by Ken Douglas


  “ All of us, there’s somebody for all of us,” he said, thinking how stupid they probably looked, staring at each other like two teenagers. All of a sudden he felt awkward with her. Awkward like when he asked Ann out that first time so many years ago. He shuddered and closed the trunk.

  She answered him with a smile. Then she slipped into the front seat, gently closing the door after herself. “See you in two weeks.” Then as an afterthought she added, “Is there anything you want me to bring back?”

  “ Only a suntan,” he said.

  She started the car and drove off, giving him a last wave, just before she made the first turn on the winding road down the hill.

  He went over to his place, sat on the porch steps and watched the sun fade behind the pines. She was right in sending J.P. off to be with his father for awhile. As much as he missed him, he wasn’t his father. The boy needed to spend time with Tom. And she was also right in taking two weeks to herself. Two weeks on the beach in Waikiki would do her good.

  She needed to get her mind off of her problems and live a little. But he was going to miss her and it tugged at him. He was in love with Christina. At least he thought he was. He loved the twins, he knew that.

  But Judy was only a few minutes gone and already he missed her. However, he was glad both she and J.P. were going to be out of town for awhile. Something was going on that wasn’t right. If there was a wild dog on the prowl, then it was good they weren’t going to be up here. And if it was something else, then it was also good that they were gone. If J.P. really had stuck three or four slugs into it, it was wounded and dangerous. If it was a dog? He wondered what else it could be.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing inside. He pushed himself up from the steps and went to answer it. He knew it was bad news the second his hand touched the phone. The tears were coming from far away and he felt them as soon as he cradled the instrument to his ear.

  “ Hello.”

  “ Is that you Ricky?” he almost didn’t recognize her golden voice. She was crying and she was the kind of person he couldn’t imagine ever crying. Unless it was bad.

  “ It’s me, Susan,” he said.

  “ Danny’s dead, Ricky. Somebody killed him on the river. I should have gone. I should have. But he said he needed time for himself. He lied, Ricky. He was with someone else, but I don’t care, I just want him back. I can never ever see him again. We can never sing together again. It’s all over.”

  “ I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Can I do anything? Do you have anyone?”

  “ I’m at my mother’s. I’ll be okay. I just wanted you to know.”

  “ I’ll get a flight out today,” he said.

  “ No, Ricky. That’s not a good idea. I think you should go away for a while. Warn Tom and Christina. I have a bad feeling.”

  “ What are you talking about?” His hand tensed on the phone and he had a queasy feeling in his stomach.

  “ Evan was murdered two days before Danny.”

  “ Oh, no.” He sighed, sitting down.

  “ It was the same man,” she said.

  “ That’s not possible,” Rick said. “It has to be some kind of awful coincidence.”

  “ They both had their heads cut off,” she said. “Sherry’s dead, too. I’m not even gonna stay for the funeral. I loved him, but I’m going to our place in Mexico till they catch whoever did it and lock him away for good.”

  “ I don’t know what to say. I’m just so sorry.”

  “ They think you did it,” she said. “The police found Evan’s records. They know all about you guys and the boots. They think you’re into more than the records. They think you’re into organized crime, you know, like the Mafia. They know you were in New York. They think you left there after you killed Evan and came here and killed Danny.”

  “ That’s absurd,” he said, but his hands were shaking. He could see how they’d think that. Bootlegs were against the law and they had been pretty organized. It had always been one of his fears, that the police would jump to a conclusion like that. But this was so much more. How could anyone think they’d harm each other. They were all friends. He could no more raise a hand against Tom or Evan than he could against J.P.

  “ I know it, but they’re looking for you.”

  “ Thanks for the warning and thanks for believing in me.”

  “ Love you, Ricky. I gotta go. You take care.”

  “ Love you, too,” he said, then she broke the connection.

  He cradled the phone and it rang again.

  “ Hello,” Rick said as a hot flash zapped through him. He knew it was more bad news even before J.P. spoke.

  “ Someone killed my dad. They tied him to a post and cut his head off. There was tons of blood. Rick, you gotta help me. I’m really scared. I saw the man. It’s him, I know it is. And I bet he has the knife. You gotta come. You gotta come now. I’m so scared.”

  “ Calm down, J.P. Talk slower. Tell me slow.”

  “ It’s hard. I don’t wanna cry, but I can’t help it.”

  “ Are you okay?”

  “ I’m across the street from the Record Meet in Pasadena, at Jumpin’ Jimmy’s. I couldn’t hide in the bushes anymore. I had to go to the bathroom and I was real hungry. I saw the man.”

  “ What man?” Rick said.

  “ It was the man from the bait shop the day those beggars were murdered. I saw him. At first I didn’t recognize him, but I remembered. He killed my dad.”

  “ Do you have any money?”

  “ Yeah, I got sixty dollars. My dad gave it to me to buy stuff, but when I remembered where I saw the man, I went back to tell my dad about how that guy was up in Tampico when you had to kill those bums and he was dead. Sylvia’s dead, too.”

  “ Who’s Sylvia?”

  “ My dad’s new wife.”

  “ I’m sorry, J.P. I’ll be down there on the first flight.”

  “ What should I do till you get here?”

  “ You stay in the restaurant. Sit at the counter, talk to the cook, talk to the waitress, and don’t talk to anyone else. I’m going to call Christina and have her come get you. Remember her?”

  “ Yeah, her and Torry and Swell.”

  “ That’s right. Don’t leave the restaurant. And be very careful.”

  “ So he doesn’t get me, too?”

  “ Yes, so he doesn’t get you, too.”

  He hung up and started dialing.

  “ Hello,” Rick heard her voice coming down the wire.

  “ Hi, Chris.”

  “ How come you didn’t call like you said you would?” She was angry.

  “ Please don’t talk, just listen.”

  His voice must have conveyed the urgency he felt because she said, “Okay.”

  “ Susan just called. Evan and Danny are dead. Murdered. Sherry’s dead, too. It looks like it might have been the same man. Susan thinks the killer may come after you and the girls. She’s gone to Mexico.”

  “ Oh, no,” she said.

  “ Sorry to break it to you this way, but it can’t be helped. Do you know the Pasadena Meet?”

  “ Yes. I don’t go, but I’ve been once or twice, just to look around.”

  “ Tom and his new wife were murdered yesterday at the meet. J.P. has been hiding out there since yesterday. Right now he’s sitting at the counter in Jumpin’ Jimmy’s. Do you know it?”

  “ Yes.”

  “ He thinks he saw the man who killed his father. I want you and the girls to go and get him and then go check in to the Beach Inn on Ocean. Tell no one.”

  “ But it’s so close to here.”

  “ Exactly, the best place to hide is where nobody would look. Nobody’s going to look for you in a motel across the street.”

  “ Gotcha, I’m leaving now. See you when you get here.”

  “ Be careful.”

  “ You got it. I’m out the door.”

  “ No questions?”

  “ None.”

&nbs
p; “ Good girl, and Christina?”

  “ Yeah?”

  “ I love you,” he said.

  “ You always did a little,” she said.

  “ See ya, take care.”

  “ See ya,” she said back. Then she hung up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Christina Page started dialing as soon as Rick hung up. It took her three calls to find out the twins had gone to the movies with friends and wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours. She couldn’t find out which movie and she couldn’t spend all night calling movie theaters. They were with a group of girls, in a crowded cinema, they’d be okay till she returned with J.P.

  He must be so frightened, she thought. Sitting in that restaurant all alone. His father dead. It was all so hard to believe.

  She thought about leaving a note for the girls, but she was only going to be gone a short time. They wouldn’t worry and besides, she’d be back before they knew she had been gone.

  She left the house and made her way to her car with her mind in a whirl. Rick’s call, telling her that her friends were dead, tore at her heart, and the thought of J.P., afraid and alone, ripped at her mother’s instincts. She fought to hold her feelings halfway between sorrow and rage.

  She started the car and drove, mentally stabbing herself for agreeing to do what Rick asked. She should have called the police straightaway. She made up her mind to do so as soon as she picked up J.P. If he saw the man who killed his father, he should be telling the cops. They were the ones who should be handling this, not her.

  Then she thought that whoever is doing this has been able to find some people who are very good at covering their tracks. There isn’t exactly a who’s who of bootleggers available in the local library. Danny, Evan and Tom had been living a sort of underground existence for the last twenty years. Like her, they had no credit cards, no bank accounts, no jobs, no listings in the phone book. They would be damned hard to find, unless you were a friend.

  But someone found them, she thought.

  Twenty minutes later she exited at Colorado. She’d made good time. Within an hour of Rick’s phone call she was parking her car in the same parking lot where Tom Donovan’s new wife had been murdered.

  She looked both ways, then ran across the street against the light. J.P. saw her the second she came through the door and in an instant he was off his stool and into her arms, crying.

  “ It’s going to be okay now, J.P.,” she said, knowing it would never be okay for him again. Danny, Evan and Tom, she thought, what had they gone and gotten themselves into? Who did they piss off?

  “ I’m glad you came.” He had his arms wrapped around her, clutching as only a frightened child can.

  “ Come on, J.P. I’ll take you home.”

  “ Can we stop by the Holiday Inn and pick up my bird, cuz I gotta have Dark Dancer.” He wiped the tears from his eyes.

  “ Sure we can, but you’ll have to be careful when we get it home, the girls have a new kitten and we wouldn’t want it to eat your bird.”

  “ Oh, it wouldn’t do that,” he said. “Dancer’s a tough pigeon. And besides, he’s got a good cage.”

  Thirty minutes later Christina turned into the parking garage, ducking her head as she went down the circular ramp.

  “ That’s silly,” J.P. said. “You got lotsa room, besides you’re in the car.”

  “ It’s an old habit, hard to break,” she said.

  “ Wow, full up,” J.P. said as they circled the first floor on their way down.

  “ There must be a convention in town.”

  “ Lots of the record meet people stay here,” J.P. said.

  “ This is a big hotel. I doubt that would fill it. There must be something else going on,” she said as she passed through the second floor, heading on down to the third.

  “ Stop,” J.P. yelled.

  Christina slammed her foot on the brake.

  “ Sorry, ma’am,” one of the men she’d almost run down said. “We should have used the stairs.”

  “ What’s going on?” she asked. Two of the men had open beer cans in their hands.

  “ Homicide convention,” one of them said. “Homicide detectives from all over the world, swapping lies upstairs. Right now this hotel is probably the safest place on the planet, must be over three thousand cops milling around.”

  “ Not so safe for you three, I almost ran you over,” she said. They laughed and waved as she drove on to search out a parking place on the lower level. The only parking spaces left were on the far side of the garage, away from the elevators.

  “ We’re way out in left field,” J.P. said.

  “ Not that far. Let’s get your bird and go. I want to be back before the girls get home from the movies.”

  “ I hope he’s okay, he hasn’t had any food or water for a whole day.”

  “ I’m sure he’ll be fine.” They rode up to the sixth floor in silence, but when the doors opened, J.P. shot out of the elevator and ran down the hall. By the time she reached the room, J.P. had the door open and was inside.

  “ He’s okay,” J.P. said. “I’m gonna get him some water from the bathroom.” He was back in a few seconds with a plastic cup. He poured some of the liquid into Dancer’s water bottle and Christina watched while the bird drank.

  “ He looks big for a pigeon.”

  “ He is, it’s cuz he’s a racing homer. They’re bred to fly far and fast. He’s got lots more muscles than commies.”

  “ Commies?” she asked.

  “ Regular, everyday pigeons are called commies.”

  “ Oh,” she said. He started to pick up the cage and she asked, “Do you have any clothes?”

  “ Oh yeah.” He set the bird back on the bureau, went to the closet and tugged out two suitcases.

  “ You don’t travel very light,” she said.

  “ I was gonna stay with my dad for awhile.”

  “ I’m sorry.” She looked around the room. “Where’s your father’s things?” She knew Tom always traveled with his tapes. She didn’t want to leave them to cause unnecessary questions later.

  “ Next room.” J.P. opened the connecting door. Apparently they went straight from checking into the hotel to the record meet, because they hadn’t started to unpack. She found two suitcases at the foot of the bed. She opened one and seeing it full of female things, set it aside and opened the other.

  “ That’s your dad,” she said to J.P. One change of clothes and about a hundred tapes. “They can’t all be Zep.”

  “ Mostly,” J.P. said “But he was into Pink Floyd too. Probably lots of Floyd there. We should take this with us. His customer list is in there.” He pointed to a ledger wedged in among the tapes.

  “ I was thinking the same thing.” She closed the suitcase and carried it into J.P.’s room. “Okay, time to go.” She carried two suitcases. J.P. carried one and the bird cage and they made their way to the elevator.

  She still felt like calling the police, but she was starting to think if she did, she might get Rick into trouble. If the boys were up to something, she didn’t want to be responsible for getting Rick sent to jail.

  It seemed like forever before the elevator showed and when it did, it wasn’t empty. They rode down with two couples that had been drinking too much in the rooftop bar and a large black man who looked like he’d rather be wearing anything else then the new suit he had on.

  “ What kind of bird is that?” One of the men asked.

  “ Racing homer,” J.P. said. “He’s fast.”

  “ I had racing homers when I was your age,” the black man said.

  “ Really? Any five hundred milers?” J.P. asked.

  “ Some. You’re going to let him go?”

  “ I was gonna but-”

  Christina squeezed his shoulder and he bit back the sentence. She smiled at the black man, who got off on the third level.

  “ Gonna let him go and he’s gonna fly away home,” one of the women said. It didn’t sound like a question and J.P.
didn’t answer. Christina didn’t think those people should be driving, but she was a strong believer in minding her own business. She nodded at them when they acknowledged her, but when the elevator door opened, they were out of her mind.

  “ We’ll leave the stuff here and go get the car.” They set the suitcases and the birdcage by the elevator and they started toward her car, with Christina leading J.P. by the hand.

  A can clattered across the garage, but Christina barely heard. She was in a hurry to get home to the twins, and once again she wondered what Danny, Evan and Tom had been up to. She didn’t think it was drugs. She knew that Evan did coke, but Danny and Tom never touched the stuff. Tom didn’t even smoke cigarettes. But whatever it was, it had to be big and there had to be a lot of money involved for someone to kill them all in such a way. She hoped Rick had no part of it, but she was afraid that maybe he did, otherwise why hadn’t he told her to call the police right from the get go?

  “ Christina, look,” J.P. said. She felt his hand tighten on hers as she followed his pointed finger.

  “ Shit!” She stooped to look at the front tire. “Someone cut it up good.” She ran her hand along the slice. “Son-of-a-bitch!”

  “ And the back one too. Someone with a big knife.” He was trembling. “The Ragged Man.”

  “ The other side as well,” she said, then asked, “What Ragged Man?”

  “ He’s a killer with a sharp knife, a Jim Bowie knife. I think he’s the one who killed my dad. I-”

  Tires screeched around the ramp, heading up, cutting off J.P. Words. The sound echoed in the underground garage. Christina wanted to call out, but it was too late, the two couples from the elevator were gone. She looked over the tops of the cars. The elevator was across the garage. It didn’t seem like a short walk anymore.

  “ Listen,” J.P. whispered.

  “ What?”

  “ No noise,” he said. “No sound, it’s like when the Ghost Dog walks in the woods. I gotta get Dancer.” He started to tug away, but she closed her hand on his, holding him fast.

  “ What are you talking about?”

 

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