Bloodthirsty

by Marshall Karp

  We hung up. Everything had been on speaker. We didn’t have to fill Victor in on the details. He backed away from us and held his hands up.

  “This is not my fault,” Victor said.

  “Sure it is,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell us what you knew? It’s only by luck that Myron Pecarsky showed us the script. You could have stopped this from going down, but you didn’t.”

  “I tried,” he said. “I swear I tried. I called Tyler, and I warned him.”

  “You warned him? When?”

  “Late last night after the news broke about Damian.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I didn’t actually talk to him,” Victor said. “His home number is unlisted. So I called his office at Pita and left a message on his voice mail, but I have no idea if he ever got it.”

  “What was the message?”

  “I said this is the Hollywood Bloodsucker, and you’re next. I tried to do it in a Dracula voice, but I think I sounded more like Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

  “And did you call Halsey and warn him too?” Terry said.

  “No.” It came out whiny. Then he said it again. “No!” He sounded indignant this time. “Halsey isn’t on Roger and Aggie’s hit list. Joy never mentioned his name. I thought he was safe from them. I’m the only one who wants him…Oh, God. I think I know what’s happening.” He shook his head to escape the thought, then turned away from us.

  Terry grabbed him and spun him around. “What? What’s happening?” His right fist was raised. We have our own little version of the good cop, bad cop act, but Terry wasn’t acting. This was genuine rage. I wondered if he’d be just as angry if Halsey Bates, the key to his retirement plans, hadn’t been a victim.

  “Easy, partner,” I said. I turned to Victor. “What were you saying about Halsey? You’re the only one who wants him what?”

  Victor’s eyes were moist again. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Dead. I’m the only one who wants Halsey dead.”

  “Why?” I said. “I didn’t even know you knew him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why?”

  “Halsey Bates killed the man I loved. Kirk Jacoby.”

  “The actor,” I said. “The one who was killed in the drunk driving accident.”

  “Kirk and I were lovers,” Victor said. “Halsey killed him, and all he did was four and a half years. Fifty-four lousy months for snuffing out a beautiful young man’s entire life. And he spent all that time building his help-the-homeless charity, and when he got out, Barry Gerber gave him a big directing job and he just picked up his life. Everyone in the world forgave him. Everyone but me. I wanted him to pay.”

  “So you asked Roger and Aggie to kill him,” I said.

  Victor laughed. “Yeah, one night down in Texas, I said, hey, Roger, do me a favor. If you ever actually come to LA and murder those other assholes, would you mind killing this Halsey Bates guy for me?”

  “Okay,” I said, “if that’s not what happened, what did?”

  “I’m not the type to kill anyone just because I want them dead,” Victor said. “So I wrote about it. It’s in the script Myron gave you.”

  “Aaron is Halsey Bates,” Terry said. “He’s been in jail for a drunk driving homicide, and he gets out after a couple of years.”

  “Seven,” Victor said. “Which still isn’t enough.”

  “But then his enemies start getting killed,” Terry said. “So how does that hurt Aaron? He’s obviously being set up.”

  “Right. He knows it and the audience knows it. But you have to read the ending and see how Aaron gets it in the end,” Victor said with a self-satisfied smile.

  “Victor, we’re knee-deep in dead bodies, with two more on the butcher’s table as we speak,” I said. “Just tell us the ending.”

  He looked hurt. “It reads better than me just telling it,” he said, “but if that’s what you want…”

  “That’s what we want,” I said. “And we want it now.”

  “Aaron is being set up by a character whose name is Victor Ashe.”

  “I’m just guessing here,” Terry said, “but Victor Ashe sounds like he could be Victor Shea.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” Victor said. “I’m making a statement. Anyway, after the third murder the Victor character confesses to Aaron that he framed him. So Aaron kills him.”

  “With a catheter?” Terry said.

  “No, with a gun.”

  “So Aaron kills the real killer,” Terry said. “I think the cops in this movie have it way too easy.”

  “That’s the big twist. Actually, Victor had alerted the cops, and they show up just as Aaron pulls the trigger. So the cops witness Aaron in the act of murdering Victor.”

  “Just like in real life,” Terry said. “What’s the ending?”

  “Aaron winds up back in jail. In the last scene a lawyer brings him a letter. It’s from Victor saying, ‘You killed someone I love, but you only got seven years. Now you’re in jail for the rest of your life. Justice has been done.’”

  Victor lit up another Kool. “So, what do you think?”

  “It’s pure gold, baby,” Terry said. “I’m ready to green-light it myself. I only have one little problem. I still don’t understand why Halsey Bates is out cold in the back of Roger Dingle’s pickup truck.”

  Victor shrugged. “I guess that’s my fault. When I was in Texas I told Roger and Aggie how much I hated Halsey, and that the only way I could ever kill him off was in a movie script. And Roger said, don’t bother writing it. I’ll kill him for you.”

  “So you stole his bloodsucking technique for your script, and he borrowed your victim to murder in real life,” Terry said.

  “I didn’t think he’d kill anybody. Especially Halsey. He didn’t have to do that for me. Believe me, I didn’t ask him. I think he’s just doing it as a friend.”

  “Well, that is one hell of a real good friend,” Terry said. “Like me and Mike. We do all kinds of stuff for each other all the time. Never thought about asking him to suck the life’s blood out of someone, but heck, with three ex-wives, I may just want to rethink the meaning of the word friendship.”

  “Where are Roger and Aggie now?” I said.

  “I don’t know,” Victor said. “I swear. You heard that lady cop on the phone. They could be hiding that camper anywhere.”

  “I also heard her say something else,” I said. “She said, the problem is, that camper isn’t rolling.” I looked at Terry, and he was immediately on the same page.

  “Right,” he said. “So maybe instead of trying to figure out where they’re parked, we should start thinking about how to get them rolling.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Roger hadn’t planned to take two of them out at the same time. But there they were in the Korean restaurant. Tyler Baker-Broome and Halsey Bates. Together. A God-given opportunity.

  “I can handle them both,” Roger told Aggie.

  He did. But it was messy.

  He had to shoot Baker-Broome. Some nosy parkers heard the shot and tried to chase them down, so Roger put a few bullets into their windshield. That changed their tune real quick.

  When the pickup was safely on the freeway and the two men secured under a tarp in the bed of the truck, Roger slid open the rear window of the cab and leaned in. “We almost had us a parade there,” he said.

  “That’s what happens when you go shooting off your gun,” Aggie said. “Tends to attract a crowd.”

  That was Aggie. No credit for what he accomplished. Just finding fault with what he did wrong. “One shot,” he said. “It got the job done.”

  “Maybe, but it’s a whole lot noisier than chloroform.”

  “I got the first one with the chloroform. Did you think the second one was gonna stand around waiting for me to put a rag to his face? He was dialing the cops while he was running. I had to think on my feet.”

  “It’s over now,” she said. “Just make sure both of them are out good and cold when
we get to the campground.”

  Getting the two men inside the camper without being noticed was easy enough. The problem was where to put them.

  They only had one embalming table. Since Baker-Broome was bleeding out just fine on his own, they decided to strap Halsey to the table.

  “Where do you reckon we oughta put the one you shot?” Aggie asked.

  “Well, he ain’t gonna fit in the microwave,” Roger said. “Only available spot is our bed.”

  Aggie’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I’ll be darned if I’m gonna let him bleed to death all over my good linens,” she said. She stripped the mattress and covered it with plastic garbage bags. Then she cut off Baker-Broome’s shirt and wrapped his bleeding shoulder with rags and an old blanket they used when they stopped along the road to picnic. It didn’t stop the flow of blood. It just soaked it up.

  “Mr. Baker-Broome’s circulatory system is on automatic pilot,” Aggie said. “We might as well start bleeding the other one.”

  Halsey was still unconscious. Roger gave him another noseful of chloroform to keep him that way. He was strapped to the same cold metal table where Barry Gerber and Damian Hedge had died before him. Aggie opened the sterile packaging that sealed the TruFlow catheter tray, picked out a 16-gauge needle, and attached it to a syringe. She punctured Halsey’s femoral vein, drew out some blood, and disconnected the syringe from the needle.

  She then carefully inserted a guide wire through the needle. Once it was in place, she backed the needle off, leaving only the guide wire in the vein.

  “You’re getting pretty good at this,” Roger said.

  “It ain’t that hard, really,” she said. “Just needs a little concentration and a steady hand. Like quilting. Give me the vessel dilator, please.”

  Roger placed the dilator in her hand and she slid it over the guide wire, working it into the vein, expanding the original needle hole. “This should be plenty wide,” she said, backing off the vessel dilator and sliding the catheter over the guide wire and into the vein. Finally, she removed the guide wire and secured the catheter to Halsey’s leg.

  “He’s ready to bleed,” she said. “Should I wake him before I start?”

  A moan came from their bed. “Please…”

  “No, keep him under for a while,” Roger said. “Just start him bleeding. Let me deal with this other one.” He turned his attention back to Tyler.

  “Who are you?” Tyler said.

  Roger stood over him. “I’m Roger Dingle. That’s my wife Aggie. You knew our daughter.”

  “Joy…Joy Lee,” Tyler said, whispering her name.

  “So you remember her.”

  “Yes, we all loved—”

  “Do you remember sending her to her death?”

  “I didn’t. It was all Barry. I swear—”

  “Save your breath,” Roger said. “You don’t got too many more of them left.”

  One of Roger’s cell phones rang.

  “We’re busy here,” Aggie said. “Don’t answer it. Just let it go to the voice mail.”

  Roger ignored her and flipped open his cell. “Hello.”

  “Roger, it’s Victor Shea.”

  “Victor, it’s been a while. How are things in Los Angeles?”

  “The police are after me.”

  “The police are after you,” Roger repeated, gesturing for Aggie to get close to the phone and listen in. “Now what did you go and do?”

  “I didn’t do anything, but LAPD made a connection between Barry Gerber, Damian Hedge, and Joy. They know she worked for them, and they know she was doing the drug run for Barry and Damian when she got killed.”

  “So why are the cops after you?”

  “They know I was friends with Joy and that I spent time with you after she died. Two detectives came looking for me at the morgue, but I snuck out before they could find me. They want to grill me.”

  “So don’t say nothing. You have the right to remain silent and all that horseshit.”

  “Roger, I know you’re in LA,” Victor said.

  Aggie’s cheek was pressed against Roger’s. She shook her head vigorously.

  “That’s crazy talk,” Roger said. “We’re sitting here on the porch in Katy, Texas.”

  “Roger, I’m not stupid,” Victor said. “The people you wanted dead are either murdered or kidnapped. And it’s all happening the way Aggie and you planned it that night.”

  Aggie pulled the phone closer to her face. “Victor, what have you told the cops so far?” she said.

  “Hey, Aggie,” Victor said. “I didn’t tell them anything. But I can’t avoid them much longer. And if they find me and I lie to them, I’m an accessory to murder. You did what you had to do, but I don’t want to be dragged into it. I don’t want to go to jail.”

  “So why did you call?” Aggie said. “Just to whine? Or to tell us that you’re gonna rat us out?”

  “To warn you,” Victor said. “I’m trying to give you time to get away. You’re only about 125 miles from Tijuana. If I can stall the cops for three hours, you can get over the border to Mexico.”

  “Three hours is the best you can do?” Roger said. “We could use a little more time.”

  “Roger, you know how much I loved your daughter, but I can’t buy you more time just so you can exsanguinate Tyler Baker-Broome and Halsey Bates. Just let them go and make a run for it.”

  “Baker-Broome is pretty much drained dry on his own,” Aggie said. “Mr. Bates has a little ways to go.”

  “You’re killing him on my account, aren’t you?” Victor said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Roger said.

  “You know I have a grudge against Halsey,” Victor said. “I thought you were doing it for me.”

  “You think I’m getting back at that homo for getting drunk and killing your boyfriend?” Roger said.

  “I thought—”

  “You thought wrong, boy. This is my retribution. Mine and Aggie’s. Halsey Bates killed our daughter. The vengeance is all ours.”

  “But he didn’t kill her,” Victor said. “He wasn’t involved in the drug—”

  “He was the boss. The director. I’m not stupid. I know who’s in charge of making a movie. The day he got out of prison, who was the first person to show up and give him a job? That fat Jew Barry Gerber. Bates knew what Gerber was making Joy do, but he decided to look the other way. He’s as guilty as the rest of them.”

  “Roger, where are you?” Victor said. “Maybe we should get together and talk this over.”

  “No. You said you don’t want to be involved, and you’re right. Aggie and I are pulling up stakes.”

  “How fast can you get out of LA?”

  “You give us them three hours you promised, and we’ll be out of the country.”

  “I can do it,” Victor said. “Just hurry.”

  “Thank you,” Roger said. “Thanks for helping.”

  “Victor…” It was Aggie.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “What was your friend’s name? The one Halsey Bates killed?”

  “Kirk. Kirk Jacoby.”

  “We can only send Halsey Bates to hell once,” she said, “but I’ll make sure he knows that his ticket was paid for by Joy and your friend Kirk.”

  “Don’t,” Victor said. “Please don’t. I appreciate the gesture, but…”

  “It’s okay, Victor,” Aggie said. “Don’t thank us. All you’ve done for our family, it’s the least we could do for you.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Victor hung up the phone. “Wow, I thought I knew about cop shit, but this is way cool. You actually warn the bad guys that you’re coming after them.”

  “We’re not warning them,” I said. “We’re flushing them out. They’re about to murder two people. There’s no time for a standard search and rescue. We need to get them out in the open fast.”

  I flipped open my cell phone and called Julie Burton at KLAJ.

  “Mike,” she said. “I knew you’d
call. Is this about the latest kidnappings? Please tell me you’re giving me that exclusive you promised.”

  “I’d rather give it to that tough boss of yours, Angela Martin. Put her on.”

  “Gosh…bad timing,” Julie said. “Angela’s not in the office today.”

  “From what I heard, Angela hasn’t been in the office for months. You really conned me, Jules.”

  “So I’m a media bitch,” she said. “It’s not a crime.”

  “Actually, it is. I think they call it obstruction of justice.”

  “I apologize. Did you call to arrest me?”

  “I just wanted you to know I’m not as dumb a detective as you thought,” I said. “And now that we’re back on the same team, I do have an exclusive.”

  “You’re kidding me. Did you arrest the Hollywood Bloodsucker?”

  “No, but we might be able to if you help.”

  “Tell me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “There’s a dark blue Chevy pickup with Texas plates that I’m hoping is headed south out of LA. He may or may not be towing a twenty-eight-foot Sunline trailer. I want you to get their description out to the public. Put it on your TV station, your local radio, even your website.”

  “Oh man, this is huge,” she said.

  I gave her the license plates and an LAPD hotline number. “Anyone who sees them should call the cops, but under no circumstances should they attempt to stop the vehicle.”

  “Like an Amber alert,” she said. “Is the Hollywood Bloodsucker in the truck? Are Tyler Baker-Broome and Halsey Bates in the trailer?”

  “No comment, Julie.”

  “Mike, this is fantastic,” she said. “What else can you tell me?”

  “I can tell you that you have the exclusive, but not for long. How fast can you be on the air?”

  “Minutes. I promise. Thanks, I owe you.”

  I hung up. “Now we just have to hope that these nutjobs hit the road before they do their vampire thing on Tyler and Halsey.”

  “Roger and Aggie are making a big mistake,” Victor said.

  “I’d say they’ve made several already,” Terry said.

  “Halsey didn’t do anything to hurt Joy. They’re going to kill him for all the wrong reasons.”