Piece Keeper

by Antwan Floyd Sr.

  Black rode the bike at a moderate speed and went straight home. Once there he parked the bike, went inside, and stripped himself of his clothes even the underwear and socks. Walking through the house naked he placed all of the clothes into a trash bag, including the shoes, then went back out to the deck, opened the grill, and placed the bag onto the rack where it doused it with lighter fluid before lighting a match and tossing it in. He watched the bag instantly become engulfed in flames. He poured lighter fluid on the flames every time they appeared to be dying out. Once the bottle of lighter fluid was empty he tossed it into the flame as well and let it continue to burn as he went into the house. He took a shower where he scrubbed his flesh thoroughly. After twenty minutes of scrubbing he was out and dressed. He went back outside to the deck. The flame was dying down. It was mostly a pile of weird smelling ash. He closed the lid and figured that he would vacuum the ash out in the morning then dump it along the highway. Next he went into the house and returned with cleaning supplies. He gave the bike a good washing, making sure to get every nook, cranny, and crevice twice. Blood and DNA samples had a way of creeping up on suspects. He had seen it time and time again. They thought they had gotten away with it then BOOM, the victim’s DNA would be all over the killer’s clothes or something incriminating was left in the car. Black wondered to himself if he would be the next.

  After looking the bike over he went inside and made himself a drink. Lounging on the sofa listening to Merengue and sipping cognac he finally felt his nerves beginning to relax. He had noticed since this case begun that he had been drinking more and more. He was once a man who hardly tolerated alcohol. He’d have a taste every now and then but now it was becoming a reoccurrence that he was beginning to take solace in. He was most definitely changing. Was this the end? All his moral beliefs and values regarding the law and justice, were they all gone? A line was crossed. A side had to be chosen and whether he realized it or not, he’d switched sides. Was he a hypocrite? He now questioned everything he once thought and believed. Guilt or remorse for what he did was not an issue. He did what needed to be done. Now he just needed to talk, to get it off his chest, so he called the only person in his life that would understand.

  He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for and pressed the TALK button. The phone rang once before it was picked up.

  The scraggly, scratchy voice from years of drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes spoke through the phone. “What you want, boy?”

  “Hey, Dad. Still up huh?”

  “Yeah, what’s going on? Everything alright?”

  “It’s so-so.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How’s Sparkle?”

  His father laughed. “She’s just fine. Lying next to me in bed. She put up a fuss. I gave her a bath. She didn’t like that too much.”

  “Right, right.”

  “What’s on your mind, son? I know you didn’t call to ask about an old man and his dog.”

  He was referring to Sparkle, his pet Pit-bull.

  Black paused before speaking. “That’s kind of the reason I called.”

  His father remained silent.

  “Remember Sheba?” Black asked.

  “The black lab you had to put down?”

  “Yeah. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

  “Taking a life is never easy. Stays with you forever.”

  “How did you do it? You know… back in Vietnam?”

  “Wasn’t in it long. Listen, son, the best thing to do with that stuff is to accept it and let it go.”

  “Let it go?”

  “Don’t let it consume you.”

  “I won’t, Pops.”

  They both sat silently holding the phone.

  Pops spoke first. “That all, son?”

  Black wanted to talk more. He still hadn’t gotten out what he needed to get off his chest. There was no way he could talk about it over the phone without flat out saying it. He knew this so he kept it to himself. “Yeah just checking on you and the girl. See you when I get home.”

  “Peace.”

  “Peace.

  The call was ended. Black didn’t bother finishing his drink. He went upstairs and went to bed alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  James thought, maybe it’s time to move on. Just take Teresa and move away. He had enough money saved up so wherever they went they would be comfortable. But he wondered would she go. She still hadn’t given him an answer to his proposal. He decided whatever he was going to do he needed to do it fast. He needed to clean up his mess here first. A life on the run was no life for newly-weds. What were Waeltz and Black cooking up? As far as he knew they still hadn’t found out about the overseas accounts or about him and Witherspoon. Waeltz was fishing. He had speculations but who had placed them there? The only person that came to mind was Hunter. James smiled. He was glad that he had broken Hunter’s fingers. Maybe it was time to take him to the river. As far as Black was concerned the only connection James could think of that Black would be privy to somehow was Brown, the old man from the alley. It was the only thing that made sense. No one else knew he’d been there besides Witherspoon who’d called him with the pick-up location for the passenger. He’d accepted the package and Witherspoon was on his way. He’d cleaned her up and left her on the street then called the police. His list of passengers that he’d taken to the river was getting longer and longer. It was going to be a busy night. He figured he would get to Brown first, then Hunter, and finish with Foster. He was undecided about Witherspoon. Chances were he would have to go as well.

  There was banging at his door taking him out of his thoughts. He went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Standing on the other side of the door was Waeltz. James unlocked the door and opened it. “What do you want?” he asked blocking Waeltz from entering.

  “Can I come in?”

  James stared at Waeltz for a brief moment then stood to the side so the man could enter. He was in no mood to get interrogated but he needed information and Waeltz would give it to him. Once Waeltz was inside James closed the door. James watched Waeltz as he moved around the room. He watched him as his eyes scanned and tried to take in as much as he could.

  “What can I do for you Waeltz?”

  “Have one question for you, that’s all.”

  “Yeah? What would that be?”

  Waeltz cleared his throat and smacked his lips.

  James crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You think I can get a glass of water?” Waeltz asked.

  James stared back, not saying a word.

  “Come on, Collins. One glass of water. My throat’s a little dry.”

  James gave Waeltz the once over before going to the kitchen where he grabbed a glass from the dish rack and turned the faucet on. While James’ back was turned Waeltz moved around to the table in the center of the living room. He let his eyes scan the scraps of paper scattered across the table; miscellaneous bills and receipts. One caught his eye. It was a slip for a wire transfer to his sister. Waeltz couldn’t read the dollar amount but he figure it was something else he should look into. James returned with the water and handed it to Waeltz. Waeltz promptly downed it in one gulp.

  “What’s the question, Waeltz?” James was ready to get to the point.

  “Just need to know your whereabouts the night Teresa was attacked.”

  “Why?”

  “Rule you out, that’s all.”

  “Never knew I was a suspect.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “Thought you wanted to cooperate, Collins.”

  “Never said I would answer. Just said you could ask.”

  James walked to the door, opened it, and held it until Waeltz stepped out. He closed the door and leaned against it. The walls were definitely closing in.

  ***

  The next morning as Black was getting dressed to go and meet Brown Morena stepped into the bed
room. She hadn’t come in that night. Black was disappointed that she had not called but he had been determined not to give in first by calling her. Besides, he figured she needed her space. The two acknowledge one another with a nod. Things had gotten so bad that they weren’t even speaking. He’d gone through this before with Teresa. Morena was different though. She worships my every move, he thought as he dismissed the idea that they were too far gone.

  “Going out?” she asked finally breaking the ice.

  “A run to make. You go home?”

  “Yeah… went to see a friend.”

  “Enjoy yourself?”

  “I did.”

  “Good.”

  She nodded and half smiled.

  He continued. “This thing should be over soon. We need to talk. Give me until then okay?”

  “And if I say no?”

  Black paused. Up until then he hadn’t given her his full attention. He turned and faced her. “Baby Love?”

  “I know, Cariño. After, we’ll talk. Be safe, mi amor,” she said as he placed a kiss on her cheek and was out the door.

  He still hadn’t heard back from Seshat. They had a rule about communication. He would have to toss the throw away phone after twenty-four hours. He would need to get back on the gaming website. She had taught him how to erase his digital foot prints but he still preferred to log on as little as possible. Although he never took any of the money they retrieved from the tips he sent her way, the way they were going about it was walking a thin line of unethical conduct. He pushed the thought from his mind and climbed into the truck. Pulling out of the garage he proceeded towards the hotel he had Brown staying at. He hoped the old man had taken his advice and stayed. It would be a waste of another day trying to track him down. After riding for twenty minutes he pulled into the parking lot at the hotel on 77 N Gilbert Street. He could hardly pull in because the parking lot was filled with police cars and an ambulance. He flashed his badge to a patrolman to gain access into the building. As he stepped in someone was being rolled out, covered in a white sheet. His heart sunk. He didn’t want to think of it but he had a feeling that he knew who was underneath that sheet. As he held his hand up to stop the first responder from wheeling the gurney further, he reached to pull back the sheet as someone placed their hand down on his shoulder. He spun and faced the person.

  “What are you doing here, Waeltz?” he asked in shock.

  “Was going to ask you the same thing. You know the deceased?”

  “About to find out now.” Black pulled the sheet back and his suspicions were dead on. Laying on the gurney underneath the sheet was Brown. “Damn,” Black mumbled underneath his breath. He pulled the sheet back over Brown’s face and waved the men off so they could remove the body from the building.

  Waeltz waited until the paramedics were gone. “So that was a yes? You do know the deceased?”

  “You do too.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yeah. The old man from when we came out of the shed connected to the catacombs.”

  “No shit. You were here to meet him? Why?”

  “A witness.”

  “In the Prince case?”

  “Mmm-hmm. You search his room yet? And you never answered my question… You’re a sex cop. What are you doing at a murder scene?”

  “Filling in for a buddy. I did a year as a homicide detective in New York before I moved here.”

  “I remember now.”

  “You remember? Oh yeah… you pulled my file. You want to tag along to check his room?”

  “Sure,” Black said as he followed behind Waeltz towards Brown’s room.

  “When was the last time you saw him alive?”

  “Last night. I dropped him off and paid for the room.”

  Waeltz knew that much. He had already questioned the staff and saw that the room was paid for with Black’s credit card. “Who was it that he claimed to have seen?”

  “James.”

  “Collins? The night of the rape? You sure?”

  “Not 100%... never got to a line up. Was supposed to go today. But I questioned the other three black cops and it wasn’t either of them. James was the last.”

  They stepped into the room to see an outline of where Brown’s dead body had been found. People walked around the room snapping photos and dusting for prints.

  “It makes sense now,” Waeltz stated.

  “What does?”

  “I paid James a visit yesterday and saw some receipts for wire transfers so earlier today I had the IT guy at the department get a warrant to check to see who he had been wiring money to.”

  “And?”

  “It was to his sister. Once every other month… $3,000 dollars… for the past year.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. May not seem like much but on a cop’s salary I don’t see it happening.”

  “Where was he getting the money?” Black asked fishing for information. He decided not to share the info about the offshore accounts because he wanted to see what Waeltz knew.

  “Still looking into it. My guess is drugs.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Just a guess.”

  “Even so how does he play into the rape?”

  “Still don’t know, but I will find out,” Waeltz said as he began looking around the room.

  Black walked over to the bed and spotted the knapsack that Brown always carried.

  “Over here,” he said as Waeltz slid on a pair of latex gloves and picked the bag up. He held the bag in the air.

  “Take a picture of this,” Waeltz demanded talking to one of the forensic officers.

  The tech quickly came over and began snapping shots of the bag. Waeltz turned the bag over and dumped the contents onto the bed. There was a flask, loose change, a few crumpled dollar bills, a few pairs of socks rolled into balls, and an old photo. Waeltz picked up the photo and looked at it. It was a picture of Brown as a young man standing next to a beautiful woman and child. He held the picture in front of Black’s face. “A family maybe? He say anything to you about a wife and kid?”

  “No.” Black removed an ink pen from his inner suit pocket. He dug through the stuff on the bed with the pen as not to contaminate the crime scene with his finger prints. Underneath a few scraps of scattered paper he found an asthma pump. “Waeltz, here.” He pointed to the pump with the ink pen. “That look like blood to you?”

  Waeltz picked up the asthma pump and held it out towards a crime scene tech. “Bag it.”

  The tech retrieved the pump and dropped it in a plastic bag then sealed it closed.

  “Maybe you had this wrong, Love,” Waeltz stated.

  “How’s that?”

  “Maybe he was in on it. We run that blood and it’s hers he’s a new suspect.”

  “I suppose anything’s possible, but to be on the safe side place a warrant for James and have a unit pick him up.” Black turned to leave.

  Waeltz grabbed his arm. “Look Love, this may not turn out pretty.”

  “Too late. This thing was ugly from the word go.” He yanked his arm from Waeltz’s grasp and left the room.

  ***

  Witherspoon sat in his office on the phone patiently listening to the orders being barked at him. He despised the person he worked for yet it paid well and gave a free pass to him and his team to cleanse the streets of undesirables. He sighed feeling disappointed about James. He was the best clean up man he had seen in recent years, but he had his instructions. Witherspoon hung up the phone without saying a word. He stood to his feet, walked to his door, ducked his head out, and called in Foster. Foster quickly entered and closed the door.

  “We got the word from upstairs to clean house,” Witherspoon stated.

  “I understand, sir… It’s only… I can’t...”

  “You can’t what?”

  “Eliminating is never a problem but disposing of them… I don’t know, sir. I may miss something,” she said lowering her head in shame.

  “There will be a bigger cu
t. You’ll do fine. Just do as I say.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go visit the dimwit first,” Witherspoon said referring to Hunter. “I always knew this day would come for him.”

  “Yes, sir. Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I bring in some people on this one?”

  “Back up for Hunter?”

  “No, sir. Collins will be a problem if he’s not gone. I suspect he will not go down without a fight. The call just went out for him over the radio. Waeltz issued the APB. He may be in the wind.”

  “I know… he’s coming unhinged. That work in the hotel was sloppy, not his style. You know where he may go?”

  “Longshot… but I think so.”

  “Take Billy and the boys from the bar fight with Love. I trust ‘em. Make sure you let them know you’re running this Op. Any of ‘em have an issue with you they have an issue with me.”

  Foster nodded yes and Witherspoon waved her off. She stood and left the room. He dropped two Alka-Seltzers in a glass of water, watched it fizz, downed it, and then took a swig of the Martel right from the bottle.

  ***

  Waeltz sat at his desk in his tiny apartment going over his files for the Prince case. Day old Chinese food still in the box sat in front of him as he worked at his kitchen table. Something didn’t add up. It was getting messier and messier by the day. There was a lot of extra stuff for a simple a rape case. He smashed a roach with the palm of his hand as it crept across the table in front of him. Wiping his hand on his pants leg he paused as he heard the sound of a gun being cocked back behind his head. He never turned to look back. He froze.