Blood Appeal: Vigilante--A Species of Common Law

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Blood Appeal: Vigilante--A Species of Common Law Page 23

by Lyle O'Connor


  “It ain’t true. That’s not what happened.”

  “Who killed her?”

  “I don’t know—but, uh, I heard maybe, who did.”

  “Don’t give me your babble. I want a name and I want it right now.”

  Sobbing he said, “Jake, Hayden and me were on the range when she died. Duke was the one who told us she was dead.” He squeezed the words out. It was an easy story to believe. I figured Duke was to blame.

  “If you were holding her as a hostage, it doesn’t make sense to harm her.”

  The cold had set in and Pug shivered. Choking out a whisper he said, “We had a little fun and that’s all it was with her. It didn’t hurt her any.”

  “You didn’t hurt her? Is that what you think?”

  “She’s a girl like all girls. She might have been ashamed of what she did, but it didn’t kill her.”

  “Ashamed of what she did. You amaze me, Woolf. Accidental murder and now she’s ashamed of what she did. No doubt she was shamed. But, it was by something she had no control over. To top it off, you’re an expert on what girls feel when you’re done raping them. I guess it’s not your first kidnapping and rape was it?”

  “I’ve never done it before. I’ve only heard others talk about it.”

  Anger was building. “Let Woolf see the photos.” Anna removed the plastic baggie of pictures Kuhl had obtained from the RV and held them in Pugs face. He couldn’t hide his reaction. He recognized the photos. He knew they came from the motorhome. While Anna held the baggie, I removed one that I found interesting and held it for Pug to see. “Who’s that?”

  “Hayden and Duke.”

  “Really. You don’t see anyone else in the picture?” I turned the photo toward me, then Anna and back toward Woolf.

  “The girl,” he said.

  “The girl! She had a name. Say it.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “You sexually abused her for weeks and never learned her name. She was a person, a human being. She had feelings and a family that loved her.” Pug didn’t respond. Only his lips tightened into a grimace.

  I showed him another picture. “This one is my favorite.” Sarcasm hung on each word. This time, he was center stage with an unconscious native girl. “How old was this kid?”

  “Eighteen, I think.”

  I looked at the photo and acted dramatically surprised. “More like fourteen, wouldn’t you say. Did you kill her too? Did you know her name? She looks native to me, was she a relative of one of the elders too?

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Is that it? You can’t tell me if you killed her?”

  “I never killed nobody.”

  “Never killed anybody? You left me for dead in the ravine.”

  Pug was silent. He knew the truth. Anna searched through the baggie for another picture. I reached over to the bag and stopped Anna’s search.

  “You look uncomfortable Woolf.”

  “I’m cold.”

  I kicked Pug off the bucket and onto the ground. I pulled my Kabar and cut every stitch of clothing off him, ripping and tearing until he lay naked on the wet ground. His eyes bugged out. He screamed like I’d cut his flesh.

  Maybe I had.

  Anna flashed a picture. I looked at the image, another native girl, different from the other photo’s I’d showed him. Pug with a belt in his hand and the frightened, crying face of the child. “I’d show you the picture, but I think you have fond memories of the times you’ve whipped girls bloody with a belt.”

  Pug was silent.

  “You’re the strong manly man type aren’t you? You like to be rough and tough with defenseless little girls.” I shook my head and handed the photograph to Anna. Reaching for the pile of clothes, I removed Pug’s belt. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

  Three or four lashes into the beating, Kuhl stopped me. “Where are we going with this?”

  “Extracting a payment. He owes a lot more than this.”

  “Let’s talk for a minute?”

  We walked several steps away from where Pug lay on the ground. Kuhl wanted to know that I had an objective. I nodded in acceptance. My comrade was right. We clasped hands and smiled. Suddenly, a howl reverberated through the darkness. Kuhl and I responded, prepared for battle. I saw a black figure twenty feet before us. Silent. Motionless. My hackles rose.

  I moved toward the silhouette until the outline took form. It was Anna.

  “He slipped his cuff and tried to get away,” she said.

  “Of course he did,” said Kuhl.

  I stood quietly and looked at the grisly carnage. Anna had made quick work with her blade. Pug lay dying. Kuhl touched my shoulder, “I’ll take it from here.” I took Anna gently by the arm and led her to the Avenger. I turned to Kuhl, “Is he dead?”

  “If he’s not, he doesn’t know it.”

  Chapter 15

  “Certainly there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable.”

  —Alan Moore

  After a short shower and a tall whiskey, I climbed into bed. Four in the morning wasn’t that unusual, but this was the first project since my injuries and I was dead tired. Anna cuddled up next to me although I was unaware of her presence until I woke at noon. I might have slept longer if it hadn’t been for a dream. A pleasant fantasy, filled with passion, had brought me out of my slumber. I would have awakened Anna as well, but it wasn’t her dream.

  Anna stirred in bed as the aroma of coffee permeated the RV cabin. I put the rolled oats on to boil. Twenty minutes later she sauntered from the bedroom. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she shared a smile and a good morning kiss. After her shower routine, she was met with a hearty breakfast.

  “What’s on the agenda,” Anna asked.

  “I say we kick it until Kuhl shows.”

  The day had warmed nicely, jumping up into the mid-sixties. The cold snap had passed for the time being. I placed a camp chair outside the RV door and soaked in the rays. The shade would have been inviting if it weren’t for those notorious Alaskan mosquitoes that shunned direct sunlight.

  I sipped on a glass of Jamison’s over ice until late in the afternoon. Around five in the evening, Anna pulled up a camp chair and we watched the fishermen and families come and go from the Park. Dozens of jubilant children cavorted through the campground. Parents or adult chaperones accompanied some while others ran freely. Kids at play were thought-provoking. They were the reason I was a Palatini.

  “Do you ever miss the simple life?” I asked.

  Anna tossed a look at me as if I lived in an altered state of reality. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. My life has never been simple.”

  “I miss avenging one of these little ones on a personal level. The Palatini ways are about numbers. Don’t get me wrong, I see the need. But I miss the one on one contact.”

  “This project was about one victim. Then it became about the victim and you—a second victim. We find the pictures in their motorhome, and that raises the stakes higher, maybe another half dozen victims. The problem of avenging one victim is we find out the target has a deeper history of behavior.”

  Anna picked up my empty whiskey glass but before she entered the RV to get a refill, she gave me something to contemplate. “There is no such thing as one on one. Predators engage in networks. Those people you’ve killed were part of the bigger picture of child pornography or other vile acts.”

  “You don’t think they were lone actors.”

  “Not at all. They appeased their depravity within a network of filth that operates for predators and by predators.”

  Anna returned with a tall, cold drink. “Kuhl’s pulling into the campground.”

  “About time.”

  It was too beautiful of an Alaskan day to waste on an indoor meeting. I didn’t sense that the vacationers and hardened fishermen had paid any attention to what went on at our RV. Besides, my charming smile and superficial waving satisfied our campground ne
ighbors. Kuhl quickly settled into a camp chair and pulled the huddle in tight.

  “Any problems last night?” I asked.

  “I questioned whether we’d picked Woolf ’s brain for all we could get,” Kuhl said.

  “With our time and location restraints we did the best we could,” Anna said.

  “It matters little,” I said. “We picked up new information to work with and a better understanding of these phony survivalists.”

  Anna added, “The information you had on Edwin Snuth was correct. He is a pilot. The plane he flew to Tangle Lakes is registered in his name. It is under private ownership, not corporate or company assets.” Anna showed a picture she’d copied from a news article. It was the man we’d seen with Pug. “He’s big time. He secures contracts with the State of Alaska for mine development. He has two prominent gold mines in operation that I’m aware of,” she said.

  “At first, I thought a weak fascist ideology ruled Alliance thinking. They want to rule the future, and that’s what the supremacy and social regimentation was about. But that’s not it at all. What they’re engaged in is old-fashioned organized crime.”

  At this, their heads tilted slightly as they cast me inquiring looks. “These guys added Snuth’s hatred to their greed,” I said. “Hate is cheap and weak. But, it has also made their greed more volatile. Without their greed, we wouldn’t have understood the purpose behind their actions. We would’ve continued to believe the crime committed against Dawn was sexually motivated. When, in fact, it was driven by greed.”

  Kuhl sat back from the huddle, pulled a tin of canned meat from his bag, inserted the key and twisted. With each twist of his wrist, I was drawn back in time to Toronto. Some images had taken up permanent lodging in my subconscious and emerged unbidden with the simplest visual or spoken cue. I took another drink of my libation.

  “Any ideas on Snuth?” Anna asked.

  Kuhl fired from the hip, “He was aware of what his henchmen were doing.” The tone of Kuhl’s voice turned crisp. “He’s not going to jail. He’s going to hell.”

  “He’s the kingpin!” Anna said.

  I turned my attention to Anna, “Get a hold of Max and let him know about the development with Snuth. See if he has any insights or knowledge of this guy.”

  Anna jotted down some quick notes. “I may have to drive into Glennallen for the cell phone to work.”

  “Take the Avenger,” I said. “What about Pug?”

  “He was dead when I loaded him in the van. I didn’t have to take him far to find a final resting place. Fishing activity was at a lull because of the storm that blew through. Even the diehards were sitting the weather out. I took him north and dropped him from a bridge. The water was moving fast, it’s possible somebody will find him, but I have my doubts. No access roads were east of the highway in that area,” Kuhl said. “I burned his clothes at my campsite.”

  “Are there any issues concerning my killing him?” Anna asked.

  “I think we already covered the biggest concern, that of Intel. I believe we can move on,” I said. “Last night, I grabbed a pile of papers from Pug’s Scout. Anna, I’d like you to sift through them and see what you can find.” Anna’s eyes lit up.

  “I’ve reviewed the call log on Woolf ’s phone, wrote down the names and numbers and included his contact list to our file. There was a missed call on the phone with a voice message. With the reception being what it is in the area, I suspect it’s normal to leave messages. We are unable to listen to it unless we get higher ground for a better signal,” Anna said.

  “Take it with you when you call Max. Download the message then get rid of the phone,” I said.

  Kuhl piped up, “I’ll take it with me.”

  “It’s late in the day. Let’s set out in the morning to run surveillance on the Alliance compound. They are supposed to have a “gathering” this weekend. Tomorrow is Friday; I want to be in position before our guests arrive,” I said.

  “I’ll be out of the area for a while this evening,” Kuhl said.

  “Roger that. Let’s plan on camp surveillance at noon tomorrow?”

  Anna and Kuhl nodded.

  “I’m going to make the phone calls before it gets any later,” Anna said.

  “Guess I’ll mind the fort,” I replied.

  Both Anna and Kuhl headed out on their missions. I relaxed in my camp chair and watched the Park patrons scurry up and down the river bank, some with fish and others not so lucky. A young couple came by, waved and said “Hi.” Meaningless behavior to most people but to me it meant a lot. It was the toddler who marched along behind the young adults that caught my attention. I understood clearly; I was called to make the world a safer place. If I didn’t answer the call, this joyful little tike might fall victim to a perp. If not him, it would be another innocent child. I had to kill the slime of humanity.

  To remain hidden from the world has been my cross to bear. If I were revealed, society would find my existence repugnant. They wouldn’t appreciate my labors and would abhor my judgments. My only satisfaction was the parade before me in the toddler that played safely on the riverbank.

  An hour had passed when the Avenger pulled into the RV Park. Anna sat beside me while I related my feelings to her. I was taking a chance. I find life more comfortable guarding my feelings than talking about them. Anna looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes, “Don’t I make you feel valued?”

  I was smart enough to know there was only one right answer to her question. “You make my world go round, sweetie.” I reached and took her by the hand. She reciprocated with a smile as she said, “We can only rely on our appreciation of each other for what we have accomplished in the shadows.”

  She was right. Anna followed up by saying something about putting a smile on my face and insisting on turning in early. I was game.

  By five in the morning, I was awake and out of bed. I hadn’t had much sleep. I checked gear and refreshed my bug-out bag. While I was rattling around in the RV, Anna crawled out of bed, made coffee and put the oatmeal on to cook. Shortly after six-thirty, we’d eaten breakfast and completed our preparations for an extended outing. We lounged in the camp chairs and sipped another cup of Joe.

  Kuhl wasn’t late when he arrived at ten minutes before eight. Anna had a fresh cup of coffee ready to hand him as he sat down next to me. “Breakfast?” Anna asked. “It’s a bacon and bagel day.”

  “I’ll pass,” Kuhl said. “I retrieved the message from Woolf ’s phone last night when I went to Anchorage.”

  “You went to Anchorage?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I couldn’t see any reason to take a chance keeping the phone. A government agency might trace a signal. I gave it a healthy toss from the Eagle River Bridge. Only the rapids know its whereabouts.”

  “Anchorage?” Anna asked.

  “Yeah, you remember, you located the address where the float plane of Snuth’s was berthed? I wanted another shot at it.”

  “Was it there?” I asked.

  “Yeah and it had little in the way of security. It was easy to access.” Anna cut Kuhl off, “What did the message say?”

  “Leigh called to tell Woolf that he’d meet him at the club-house around noon.”

  “Clubhouse?” I said. That term didn’t ring a bell and set my mind to wondering what kind of Mickey Mouse operation these guys were running.

  “That’s what they called it. He also said Boury wouldn’t be able to make it until late in the evening.” Kuhl looked toward me and said, “No mention of Dixon or anyone else showing up.”

  “I hope Dixon didn’t fly the coup,” Anna said. “I’d hate for us to make the trip back to Missouri to finish the project.”

  “If he was sure he saw you, he might be running scared,” Kuhl said.

  I pondered the information for a minute. “Let’s greet Ponytail. Brother, I need you in the van. I want everything recorded. He might say something to help us track Duke down or take out that fat cat Snuth.”

  An
na looked puzzled. “We are hitting Snuth then?”

  “Our project is evolving,” I said. Kuhl’s lip had curled when he spoke of having accessed Snuth’s plane. Something told me he didn’t leave empty handed. “Did you do more than look at the plane?”

  Kuhl’s lip curled again. I knew I was right. “It’s rigged to rock-n-roll,” he said.

  “Pug might have lied about who killed Dawn,” Anna said.

  “That’s a given. It was to his benefit to blame someone else. But if he didn’t kill her, I want to find out who did, and Ponytail is next on the agenda,” I said. “Anna, you’ll stage on the hillside. I want you on point as a lookout while I’m in the camp.”

  “But I’m not a long-range shooter.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want you shooting him. Two-way communications will be your primary function. We have portables that will work fine for the short distance we’re spread out.”

  Anna drove the Avenger toward the camp and pulled off by the bridge of a large tributary. She was fortunate to find a place to park the car. Dozens of fishermen and their vehicles crowded the small lot that had been carved out by years of usage. When Kuhl and I passed over the bridge, I saw the Avenger squeezed between a pair of pickup trucks. “That’s a good idea, ditching the car in plain sight. Considerably better than searching for a remote area to conceal it from view,” I said.

  Anna faced a hike. We passed her jogging across the bridge. To insiders, it might have looked callous on our part not to stop and pick her up. Frankly, that was too chancy. As long as she remained in view of the fishermen, we couldn’t make contact. Anna was a shapely woman. I’d counseled her against wearing the jogging attire she’d chosen. “It’s too tight on the bottom and too loose at the neckline.”

  “It’s the only appropriate clothing I have to wear.”

  “Well, wear a light jacket. One that hangs down past your butt.”

  “That’s crazy. It’s going to be a warm day,” she said. “Thomas, what do you think?”

  “I think you look beautiful like you are,” he responded.

  I fixed my gaze on Kuhl, “Thanks a bunch, buddy.”

 

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