4 - Stranger Room: Ike Schwartz Mystery 4

by Frederick Ramsay

  The trees effectively hid him from view and he reckoned if he moved slowly enough and stayed low, there was a good chance he could get behind LeBrun, without being spotted. What he’d do when he got there was less clear. He doubted he could dash from the woods, cover the distance to LeBrun, and disarm him without being heard or seen. He could try a head shot, but the odds were not good. And if either failed, Billy would have his head blown off. Still, he’d have to try. At least he could stop the same thing happening to Essie. If he could get a shot off…he’d pray for some luck. He got it. The path did, in fact, circle around behind them and a breeze picked up, moving branches and bushes, and making it easier to move quickly. Essie seemed to be saying something to LeBrun. He jerked at the gun, which Karl now saw clearly had been taped to the nape of Billy’s neck. The trip around the bridle path seemed to take forever.

  ***

  Ike pulled into the Seven-Eleven and jumped out of his car. He didn’t even switch off the ignition; a move that would have produced a tongue-lashing by him had one of his deputies done the same thing.Surest way to give a stranger a police car, he’d have said. Yuri greeted him as he pushed through the double doors.

  “Ah, Sheriff Ike, so nice to see you. I was just talking to the nice tall deputy of yours. That would not be the beautiful deputy Sam, who is also very tall, but—”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “Go? Oh I am not sure. You see, we were discussing how in my country, it is the duty of humble shop keepers to show their support for—”

  “Yuri, shut up and tell me which way he went.”

  Yuri looked hurt. “Sheriff, I was about to. You see, he insisted on paying for his coffee and donut. It was not necessary. Can I get you a coffee and something…no charge, of course?”

  “Yuri, in two seconds flat, I’m going to lock you up for obstruction of justice. Now think, which way did Karl, the tall, black deputy, go?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I cannot be sure, I was with another customer, but I think he went out the Covington Road.”

  Ike bolted out of the door, slid behind the wheel of his car, and cut off a FedEx truck as he pulled out of the store’s parking lot. He ran over a sack and cup which were lying in the street. He assumed some litterbug had dropped them and snarled at the whole world of wasteful, careless people.

  ***

  Karl scuttled along the path but kept his eyes focused on the three people in the field. He muttered a call for backup into the radio on his shoulder and then remembered he’d shut it off. The squawk and chatter it would make when he turned it on could alert LeBrun and that could only end badly for Billy. He watched as the two of them shuffled toward Essie. He could not make out what LeBrun was saying, but Essie looked distressed and Billy ready to take his chances with the gun. Essie moved to her left. It looked like she wanted to move LeBrun to one side and away from Billy’s back. Billy tried moving as well. Instead of a straight line, now the three of them were separated. Karl finally reached a point to their rear. Essie looked into the woods and saw him. Her face betrayed nothing, no wide-eyed look of recognition, nothing. He put his finger to his lips. He heard her say, “What’s stopping you?” A very cool woman. Not the ditz he’d seen in the office.

  Then he watched as Essie began to unbutton her blouse. What now? She kept moving to her left. He found a tree trunk to LeBrun’s left rear and slipped behind it. He thanked his lucky stars he was black and wearing a brown uniform. In the woods he was practically invisible. If he kept very still, LeBrun would not see him. If Essie could get LeBrun to back up to him, there was a chance he could take him out. Since LeBrun held the shotgun in his right hand, it would be his right index finger on the trigger. Finally Karl understood what Essie had in mind. She kept moving to LeBrun’s right forcing him to turn sideways.

  Essie pulled her blouse free from her slacks. A truck sped past on the Covington Road. Essie said something and LeBrun hesitated and then started to back up. LeBrun seemed wholly focused on Essie’s bright red bra. It’s like a bullfight, Karl mused, and shook his head to dismiss the thought. He needed to stay focused on the gun. Essie had LeBrun backed up almost even with Karl, but as he had moved to face Essie, his back was now to him. Essie unsnapped the front catch of her bra and held it together momentarily. Karl could almost hear LeBrun’s blood pressure rise.

  She did not smile or show any emotion. She opened her hands and let the brassiere slide off her shoulders. She threw her shoulders back, and faced LeBrun. If he wanted to grab her, he’d have to do it with his right hand. If he did, his finger would come off the trigger and there would be a split second before he shifted to his left and in that moment, Karl would have to act. He slipped his baton loose from his belt.

  “Well, well, woman, you surely do present a pretty picture. Don’t she, Billy?”

  LeBrun reached for her with his right hand. The gun wavered as he moved his left hand from the stock toward the trigger. Karl stepped forward and brought his baton down with a loud crack on LeBrun’s left wrist. He howled and released the shotgun. Karl reckoned he’d broken at least one bone. He shot one foot behind LeBrun and sent an elbow to his face. LeBrun fell backward and let go of the gun stock. Karl dropped to the ground with him, put a knee firmly in his back, and cuffed him. LeBrun yelped when the cuffs snapped shut on his left wrist. Karl gave it an extra squeeze.

  Essie ran to Billy and started to reach for the gun.

  “Don’t, Essie, stop.” Essie froze, wide-eyed.

  Karl lurched to his feet. Lebrun tried to twist around. Karl tapped him behind the ear with the baton and LeBrun slumped forward on his face, and lay still.

  “Essie, take the knife out of my belt and when I tell you to, saw away at the tape close to the barrel’s end. Not now! Wait. This thing may have hair trigger and we don’t want to blow Billy’s head off. We’ll let Ike do that when he hears what happened.”

  Karl gingerly took the gun by the stock, raised it slowly and set the safety. “Now,” he said, and Essie attacked the tape first freeing the gun, and then she reached to remove the rest from Billy’s neck.

  “I can get this, Babe,” Billy said. “I think maybe you need to, like, cover up.”

  Essie looked down at her bare chest, turned a bright crimson, and retrieved her clothes. She turned her back to the men and hastily dressed. Karl pumped out the shells from the gun and leaned it against a tree. Essie was tucking in her shirttail when Ike bounced across the picnic area in his car. He scrambled out and, arms akimbo, stared at the four figures in front of him.

  “I’m sure there is a very rational explanation for all of this.”

  Essie turned pale and sat down heavily at the picnic table.

  “Essie, are you okay?”

  Billy walked over to LeBrun who had started to moan and kicked him in the ribs.

  “You dirt ball, you dirty—”

  “Enough, Billy. He’s done,” Karl said.

  Billy started to launch another kick but stopped. “I should have put you down a long time ago, when I had the chance, LeBrun.” He went to Essie, sat down beside her, and wrapped her in his arms. She started to shake uncontrollably.

  Chapter 32

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Essie sobbed.

  “You should have seen her, Ike,” Karl said. “I mean…not seen her, like…you know what I mean. I’ve never seen a braver, cooler act in my life.”

  “He was going to kill us. Rape me and kill Billy and me and—”

  “You hush, now, it’s over, Babe. It’s okay.” Billy stroked her hair.

  “I had your little pistol in my purse, Billy, but I left it in the car. I didn’t know…and then I couldn’t go back to get it…”

  “Shhh, it’s okay…”

  “You take her home, Billy,” Ike said. “Call the doctor for a sedative or something and let her rest. She’s had a bad time. Go. Now.” He pointed toward Billy’s cruiser. The two stood and Billy led Essie to the car but she stopped, reversed her field and
walked over to LeBrun who struggled on the ground.

  “You pond scum,” she screamed and kicked him in the side. “You sleazy, rotten, son of a—”

  “Whoa, Babe. It’s over.”

  She kicked him again. “It’s never over. These people never go away. They’re like the flu. They just keep coming around, year after year.”

  “Not this time Essie,” Ike said. “We’ll have enough to put this one away for a long time. Take her home Billy, and you take a couple of days off, too. Go to Orlando with her.”

  Billy nodded and led Essie back to the car. She began to cry again. Deep wrenching sobs. They drove away. Ike turned to Karl.

  “What happened here?”

  “I’d be guessing, you’ll have to check with Billy, but apparently LeBrun managed to catch Billy off guard and made him call Essie. Anyway, he had Billy taped to this twelve gauge and—”

  “Backup. What were you doing here?”

  Karl filled Ike in as best he could. He described what he saw from the store and why he followed Essie, what Essie had done to get LeBrun to back into the woods and in range of Karl’s baton.

  “Essie did that? It didn’t just happen?”

  “No, I’d stake my life on it. She did what she had to do to keep that gun from blowing Billy’s head off.”

  “And if you had not come along? If you hadn’t seen her fly by the Seven-Eleven?”

  “I think she would have done whatever she could to save Billy. Even…”

  “Okay. So what do we do with this miserable excuse for a man?”

  “Do you mind if I sit down? This is just catching up with me. You ever had something like this happen to you?”

  “Long time ago. Not fun.”

  Karl took Essie’s place on the bench and exhaled. His hands were shaking.

  “That was a near thing.”

  “You all did good.”

  Lebrun moaned and tried to roll over.

  “Oh, shit, in all the excitement, I didn’t pat him down, Ike.”

  Ike stepped over to LeBrun and went through his pockets and clothes. He removed a knife, some glassine packets, and a revolver from an ankle holster.

  Ike broke the revolver and dumped the shells. “Good thing you all kept him on his face and ‘sedated.’ LeBrun, I think you’re finally cooked.” LeBrun grunted and spat. “Karl, what charges can we make stick here?”

  “Start with kidnapping. That’s federal. Then there are two counts of attempted murder. Assault, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape, resisting arrest—”

  “He resisted arrest?”

  “If I say so, he did. I say so. How else would he get a broken wrist?”

  “Point taken, okay, what else?”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, those envelopes you just relieved him of justify a count or two of possession. And his breath is criminally rotten. That ought to be worth at least a no parole sentence. How’re you doing down there, Lebrun?”

  LeBrun mumbled something about a lawyer.

  “Eventually, George, eventually,” Ike said.

  The sun started its descent in the west. The parks tress cast long shadows across the open picnic area and the temperature began to drop. Early spring meant cool nights. Ike pivoted in a circle, took in the scene once more, and smiled. “I think it’s time to toss him in the car and take him in. I think we’ll threaten to put him in with his cousin. That should get Daryll talking.”

  ***

  Flossie Picket had her dander up. Instead of going home to her soap opera and a cup of tea, she drove to the sheriff’s office. No old white man would talk to her that way, and that was a fact. She parked her Pontiac in a visitor’s space and marched into the office.

  “How do, Miz Picket. You looking for Charlie?”

  “Afternoon, Rita. How come you’re here and not Essie?”

  “To tell the truth, it’s a little confusing. Seems like there was either some threats made against her…that’s the rumor, or she’s fixing to visit Disney World with her sister.”

  “Mercy. All that? What do you reckon is the reason?”

  “I’ll tell you the truth, I really don’t know. Onlyist thing I know is if I don’t get back on nights real soon, my husband is going to divorce me…or worse.”

  “What could be worse than that?”

  “He could have his mother come live with us.”

  “You mean Sadie Mae? Oooh, that’s not good. By the way, where is Charles?”

  “He’s around here somewhere. All kinds of things been happening and he might be out in the lot.”

  “Momma, what’re you doing here?” Charlie Picket walked in the door with an armful of papers in his hand.

  “I come to tell you that I don’t clean for Mister Lydell no more.”

  “You drove over here to tell me that?”

  “There’s more. That man was in a funk this morning. I come to tell him something and he’s sitting at that big desk of his muttering and banging away on it with his fingers something fierce. Then he cussed at me.”

  “Cussed at you? What for?”

  “Well, maybe not me in particular but sort of in general.”

  “How does somebody cuss at you in general, Momma?”

  “Never you mind. That’s not the important thing I got to tell you.”

  Charlie ushered his mother to a vacant desk and had her sit down. She didn’t want any coffee but she took the cup of tea Rita offered.

  “Now, what did you want to tell me?”

  “I was going to tell Mister Lydell what I saw tucked up under the bolster in the third floor bedroom ’fore he got snotty with me. I figured he didn’t deserve that information but then on my way over here I thought it was maybe something Ike ought to know.”

  “And that is? Momma there’s been a major event went down today and I ain’t got a whole lot of time, so tell me.”

  “If your Momma can’t take but a minute of your time, Mr. Important Deputy, then I’ll just take myself on home and you can talk to me later.”

  “Momma, it ain’t that. If I heard right, we had a near double shooting involving Miss Falco and Deputy Sutherlin. Things are a little scattered.”

  “Fine, you just tell Mister Ike when you see him, Flossie Picket has some news might interest him. Goodbye.”

  Charlie sighed. He recognized the symptoms. When his mother got her dander up there was no use arguing with her. He watched her stomp out the door.

  “What do you suppose she saw in that bedroom, Charlie?”

  He shrugged. “Could be anything. Dust bunnies from outer space, Jimmy Hoffa, a clue to the murder, who knows?”

  The door flew open again and Ike, Karl dragging a cursing George LeBrun, and a gaggle of townsfolk poured in.

  ***

  Dorothy Sutherlin met Essie and Billy at her door.

  “You come on in here, dear. You’ve had a bad day.”

  “Mom,” Billy began.

  “Hush, Billy. I heard all about it.”

  “Heard? Heard how? We just come from there.”

  “Your brother Frank got it on the highway patrol radio and checked. You go to the cupboard and get some of your Daddy’s liquor. Fix up a dollop for Essie here and you can have one yourself.” Billy’s father passed on nearly twenty years before but his jug of corn liquor still stood in the pantry for ‘medicinal purposes.’ Billy poured himself a generous shot and a smaller one, which he watered down, for Essie.

  Dorothy Sutherlin held the glass out to her. “Here now, you just swallow this. It’ll calm you down.”

  “No thank you. I’ll be fine.”

  “You will be, that’s for sure. But you ain’t now. Drink up.” Essie obediently swallowed, coughed, and handed the glass back. Her eyes watered but not from tears. “Now, I’m going to draw you a hot bath and then you’re going to lie down for a spell. Billy here is going to the market and buy us some steaks for dinner and then he’s going to sit down and tell me everything.”

  Essie allowed herself to be m
othered. She took the bath, accepted an over large flannel nightgown, and was asleep in ten minutes.

  Downstairs, Dorothy fixed her second youngest with a look that brooked no evasion. “Why’d you bring that sweet thing here?”

  “She don’t have a real home and anyone to look after her. I just thought—”

  “You thought right. Now, you go settle down somewhere and listen to yourself, what you just said to me.”

  Chapter 33

  The threat of sharing a cell with his homicidal cousin convinced Daryll Jenkins his interests would be served best by cooperating with the police. Like the operatic dickey bird, he sang. He was still at it at seven o’clock in the evening when Ike left the office. He had tried to call Ruth three times but the newly amiable Agnes told him she was in a meeting and it looked like it would be a marathon. Ike didn’t bother to point out that marathons were races and her metaphor off the mark. He would have in the past but tonight fatigue overwhelmed him. Enough, he thought, I’ve had enough. I need a meal, a shower, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.