BLUDMONEY
By
Scott D. Halfacre
Legal crap: have nada, own nada… leave me alone.
PS: If you don't know this stuff by now, why read this?
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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I walk through the doors like I own the joint.
The receptionist is straight ahead of me - her brilliant smile on display from the moment I enter - and two security guards are near the elevator to my left. They glance my way for a second, then return to their idle chatter.
Between the sunglasses, goatee, and the black suit, I hope I look different enough to cause people not to notice me. I have the small Gotham Knights bat tucked into the back of my waistband; it weighs about 3 pounds and is a little shorter than my forearm. It doesn't leave too much of a bulge right now, but if I get searched, they'll find it.
"Buena Tardes," I say with my award-winning smile in place, "I'm here to see Johanna Michaels."
"She's not in, may I ask what this is in response to?" Her voice is pitched high enough to be a cartoon character, but with a thicker accent than Speedy Gonzalez.
The receptionist's eyes show nothing but pride as her left hand makes the slightest of movements. She sees my eyes follow her movements as she slightly changes it to pick up a pen.
Fear is a tool.
"Her murder." Okay this might not be the best plan I've ever had, but something is bound to happen.
Her eyes widen just a bit. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She motions for the security guards.
I chance a glance their way for a second - good ten seconds unless they run - I stare back in her eyes. "Is her murderer in? I'd love to have a discussion with him."
I slowly turn my head away from the receptionist to size up my opponents; neither I've seen before. One is reaching for his billy club; he must be Slowpoke Gonzalez with his speed. The other, the ugly one with fewer teeth, has his out and is patting his left hand with it.
"Problema?" His eyes are inquiring Speedy the receptionist. He's looking past me and his eyes are moving slightly to my right; she's trying to move out of the way.
"Don't worry miss," I say in my best attempt to sound dangerous, "I'll get back to you in a second."
"American?" The one with the club asked in what can only be described as broken English, even if it was only one word.
"What gave it away?" I grin at him and put my back against the receptionist desk while facing them. "It was my dental work wasn't it?"
"It's your arrogance!" Toothless tells me with a whistle forming at the end of his sentence.
"Arrogance is thinking you have a license to kill." I stand up straight and put my hands on the desktop behind me. "You're not James Bond are you?"
"You have no proof of anything." Toothless spilled some beans.
"Shut up." Slowpoke tells his comrade.
I point towards Slowpoke with a nod. "I'd listen to him," then look hard at Toothless, "and use less "S's" in your chatter with me, I forgot my raincoat."
They glance at each other trying to determine if I just insulted them.
"For your sake, I hope you guys are better with those sticks than you are at verbal sparring."
They definitely know now. Toothless makes the first move.
You can't think with your mouth running a mile a minute.
No. You can't. This is my show.
I plant my arms on the desk and kick toothless in the gut with both wingtips. Bringing my feet up to grab his club between them. I slide back on the desk as Slowpoke makes a lunge, missing me and hitting the club on the desk.
Spinning on the desk, I drop off on the other side of the desk onto my feet, leaving the removed club on the ground where I landed.
Toothless is gasping for air and down on one knee.
"You'd think with less teeth it'd be easier to breathe." I smile at Speedy, thumbing over my shoulder at Toothless.
Slowpoke makes another lunge with his club. A well-placed kick with my left heel leaves him out cold, sprawled on her desk.
Toothless gets up and tries to hobble away, more than likely to trip an alarm. I drop him like a sack of Idaho's, with the club I took from Slowpoke's grasp.
"Now, as I was saying," I stare in the receptionist's eyes, "Is the murderer of the residence in?"
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I'm no longer in the mood for games.
I've been playing cat and mouse long enough, dodging security teams here and there. Everyone seems to be looking for me, big surprise there. I walk into an Embassy and take out two guards. The good thing is the local authorities won't be in on this, this is Colombian soil.
I was reminded of that on my first visit here.
The receptionist out front was actually slightly helpful. She told me what floor securities headquarters was on, not thinking I would be dumb enough to waltz in and say hi.
She obviously goes by the old saying "the clothes make the man," if indeed she thought I wasn't dumb enough to do so.
It certainly surprised the small team that was here when I got here. I got a little blood on Jones's bat, I hope he doesn't get mad.
I'm sitting in front of a wall of monitors now, searching for Gallager.
Got him.
And two others I recognize from my previous excursions here.
I clean the bat off on someone's shirt. They'll live, all seven of them. They'll just wake with a headache even Exedrin couldn't help.
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I destroyed every monitor device I could before I headed for the floor I saw Gallager on.
The thirtieth floor.
I just climbed in the window of an office. After all, they have to be expecting a guy to take the elevator or stairs, right? The office is spacious and neat, flowers everywhere; must be a woman's office. Pictures are on a wall, which I scanned for Pooh but didn't find her.
I enter the hallway; no one is there. The place is practically a host town.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, worst of all I'm not sure why.
Casually walk to my left and let my ears try and pick up something; it doesn't take long. Conversation and it doesn't sound pretty. I get to the door and try the handle as quietly as possible, locked. Head back to the office I was in before and search for a bobby pin or something. No pin, but I am armed with a paper clip now.
I get back to the door and the words are still flowing like beer at a bachelor party. Pick the lock with deftness I didn't know I still had after losing so much sleep, and enter.
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They stare at me for what seems like an eternity.
I walked in and tried my smart-ass mouth, I can remember making a joke about trying to find a bathroom or something.
But I'm staring at something I didn't expect to find.
Gallager, Rhino, a guy from the photo, a pretty female, and the last person I get to see due to a sharp pain to the base of my skull followed by blackness.
Detective Greene.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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Lavender.
I've been dreaming of the smell of Lavender, the smell that reminds me of Pooh. She never wore anything, or at least she told me that, but she always seemed to smell of lavender.
Now I'm in that half-awake/half-asleep mode where you're not sure which way is up. It's usually easier to tell when there is at least a little light. But why would things be made easy for me? It's almost as if I have this ability to do everything the "hard" way. Trouble just seems to follow my life; rather it leaps ahead of me and trips me up constantly.
Lavender.
That unmistakable smell is still with me, surrounding me.
I don't know how long I've been out, but I'm no longer in the room. That much is positive. Least I got some much-needed rest.
Making jokes doesn't lessen the severity of the situation at hand.
Yeah, yeah. I know.
Greene.
Oh believe me, I won't forget.
I'm cramped and can't move, it's dark and that feeling of movement, with a sound in the background, humming… I'm in a trunk. Probably taking me somewhere out of the way. But why didn't they kill me right away?
Hand it over, or your next.
They think I have something, they won't kill me till they get it. Too bad I don't know what it--
Stopped.
I can no longer feel the movement; the background hum is gone too.
Never underestimate them.
I now realize, I haven't been dreaming that smell.
It's in here with me.
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Light slams my head like a shotgun blast.
"Out." I hear the disembodied voice.
The light is so bright compared to the darkness of the trunk that I can't even make out shapes just yet.
I sit up and bump my head on something.
"You dent that trunk and I'll have your ass." There's no accent in the voice.
"Been dreaming of that day haven't you Greene?" I can't move my arms; must be cuffed.
"Oh that's smart, make fun of my manhood" Greene starts.
"Is it any smarter than threatening a dead man with bodily harm?" I smirk to myself at the thought of it. "You dent that trunk and I'll have your ass." I toss back his words at him in my best imitation of his voice.
"Friggen smart-ass, you ever get sick of your own voice?" I can hear some congested laughing; we aren't alone.
"No… you have an aspirin?" I glance at a large shape in front of me and smile.
Laughter erupts as I'm jerked from the trunk faster than I can think and thrown to the floor.
Rhino.
I know.
Dirt floor.
Well, I'm outside. I guess that's better than a dark basement somewhere.
"You are a funny one." I hear another voice, this time with a Spanish accent. "You're going to die and here you ask for an aspirin?"
"You'd deny a dying man his last request?" I cough and taste the copper of my blood.
"Get the kid an aspirin, he took a hard shot." I can just make out Greene in front of me.
"Thanks."
"No problem kid. You would have made a great detective, you know?" His hands are holding a shotgun.
Harder for forensics.
I stand up and face him; the gun is leveled at my gut. "You could have been one too, but you chose the wrong side."
"A hero to the end, huh kid?" It is Greene; my vision is starting to come back.
"Enough of this, shoot this pato and let's head back." The voice is deep and Hispanic.
"Rhino in a china shop," I say under my breath and then turn to see the large one I call Rhino at the back of the trunk, "No one has brought you up to speed?" I ask aloud.
Rhino crosses his arms.
"No?" I shrug my shoulders and look at the car behind him.
Police Cruiser.
"You want to lay it all out for them, or shall I?" I spin to face him. "Greene?"
His face is contorted into what can only be a sneer. "They're told what they need to be told."
"So are you," I step closer to him, "Who's pulling the strings Greene?"
Greene is wearing his badge on his belt buckle, which disgusts me. Such disrespect to the many good men and women that have died wearing such a badge to protect and serve the innocent.
Pooh.
Greene smiles and takes his sunglasses off with his left hand. "You ain't going to get squat out of me."
I make an exaggerated attempt at counting the party. "C'mon Green… there are four of you and I'm alone."
Greene looks at his comrades: Rhino with his arms crossed, Slowpoke trying to open a bottle of aspirin, and Toothless wearing the Gotham Knights cap and trying to smile. "I've seen this movie, I tell you and you get away… no thanks."
"Movie?" Toothless asks.
"Always slow on the uptake aren't you?" I glance over my shoulder at Toothless and then right back to Greene.
"Don't forget the part where I kill them and torture the hell out of you." I tilt my head to one side and smirk with a shrug.
Heroes are made at times like these.
Greene levels the shotgun toward my head. "What if I don't give you the chance?"
"Then your boss will be quite upset." I dig my left foot into the dirt.
"We won't say shit." Slowpoke chimes in.
"And I know you won't say anything," Greene gestures towards me with the shotgun.
One more second.
My heartbeat is slowing with time; everything is about to become a blur of motion. Adrenaline, love the stuff.
"And I know I won't--" Greene starts by gesturing toward himself with his hand; the gun moves away from me slightly--
Heroes are made at times like these.
Now!
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I throw the dirt at Greene with my foot, nailing him in the eyes. And leap to the left as the shotgun goes off. I tuck and roll on the ground, while bringing the cuffs underneath my legs, allowing my hands to be in front.
The shot struck Rhino square in the chest, I can hear the sucking chest wound he now wears a badge all his own, a badge of stupidity.
Greene is still blind and cocking the shotgun. Slowpoke is still staring in awe, but Toothless has his 9mm out and trained on me.
Why couldn't he have been shot first?
Car!
Toothless is slammed up against the police cruiser with the force of another vehicle.
I can't see him, but the Gotham Knights flag still hangs in the window of the cab.
Jones!
He must be mad about Toothless wearing his cap.
Greene?!
I spin my head and catch Greene bringing the gun to bear on me. I run toward the cruiser and slide across the roof headfirst towards Slowpoke. Who, true to his name, is just getting his gun out of the holster.
I take the automatic .45 out of his hands as I slide by and behind him.
As I tuck and roll I can feel that I've been shot, then Slowpoke headlands next to me.
Least I think it's him, the face is gone by the sheer force of the shot I never heard, but the buckshot is also in my left leg. But the true tip-off is the bottle of aspirin lying next to him.
"You little shit!" I hear Greene call.
Jones!
I poke my head up and see through the windows of the cruiser that Jones is just peeking up over the steering wheel.
Greene is now looking his way.
"Where the hell did you come from?" Greene screams as he brings the gun to bear on Jones.
He stalks his way toward Jones; I stand and walk toward him, and around the cruiser. Aiming the .45 on him all the way.
"Nigger, get out of the cab!" Greene screams.
"Drop it or I drop you." The gun rests firmly in my hands, the chain of the cuffs dangle slightly and is hitting the metal of the .45.
It's the only sound I can hear now; even my heartbeat seems to have taken a little time off. "Jones, you'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you."
"Yeah? Like you protected Miss Michaels?"
He's pressing your buttons, don't let him.
I should kill him where he stands.
I cock the hammer.
Greene seems amused at the sight. "That isn't your style Grayson."
"You made this my style. You killed her. Why?" The gun sways slightly, but he's still in my sights.
"She was a no good whore. You weren't the only Dick she loved." Greene smiles and I feel my stomach get ill very quickly. "Get it?"
"You call her that again and I will kill you." The gun steadies and feels so right in my hands.
Don't let him push you, you are in control.
Jones' face is not as full of fear as I thought he should be at that time, but I guess at his age, he's seen a lot of stuff go down. He smiles at Greene.
You are in control.
"What the hell are you smiling at, nigger?" Greene puts the gun against his temple and for a second I think I'll have to kill him.
Jones smiles brightly and then makes eye contact with me. "He never cocked the shotgun."
You are in control.
I am in control.
Greene's face turns red and he starts to cock the shotgun. I run towards him and slide tackle him, taking out Greene's legs out from under him. He falls on top of me and I roll him so his back is against the ground and my cuffs are under his throat choking him.
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"Sir?"
Greene's eyes start to roll back in his head.
"Sir?!" Jones shakes me as he shouts to me.
"C'mon youngster, I saw the whole thing." His eyes are filled with kindness as a breeze ruffles his white hair.
I release my grip on Greene's throat and stand, stepping back off of him. Greene sits up and is coughing madly. I kick his shotgun away with my right foot. And throw the .45 onto the hood of the cruiser.
Greene points a finger at Jones' back as he walks toward Toothless. "Damn nigger! If I would have cocked that--"
"You did cock it." Jones stops and smiles at him just as kindly as he did to me.
"Why'd you do it Jones?" I stare in his eyes, and find something.
Care.
"I told him he didn't cock it so he'd--" Jones leans down and plucks his cap from an unconscious Toothless.
"No, no. Not that. Why'd you come after me? Why'd you risk your life for me?"
Jones does that smile of care at me and claps his large hand on my left shoulder, while placing the cap where it belongs.
Heroes are made at times like these.
"I just came for my hat."
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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I pull the cord tight enough for Greene to feel it tear at the skin on his wrists, but he can't say anything about it; Jones had already taped his mouth shut.
"Got sick of the slurs." Jones' eyes were bright with laughter as he tugged his cap tighter on his head.
"Can't say I blame you." I push a mumbling Greene down into the trunk.
Jones slams the trunk then slaps it with one of his large hands. "What now?"
"I can take it from here Jones." Jones makes it easy for me to smile.
Jones just nods his silent agreement with his smile in place.
"I just can't figure out where the bat is." I let the sentence hang there.
"Probably still at the Embassy." Jones muses out-loud.
"How much time?" I ask while checking the position of the sun.
"Called for the ambulance about ten minutes ago." Jones leans back on the trunk.
Muffled shouts and some thumping can be heard from the cruiser's trunk. Rhino was dead, nothing Jones or I could do for him, Slowpoke will have to have his dental records checked, but Toothless will live.
We made sure to do everything that could be done for Toothless, he's in bad shape and unconscious.
"Not that, how long was I out?" I'm running the things I've learned in the past few days through my mind.
"About four hours." Jones takes out a toothpick and places it between his teeth.
"Hey," Jones says with a shrug, after noticing that I was watching. "I got hungry."
Laughing I check the tape around my legs where Greene shot me; the bleeding has tapered off a bit.
Jones did a good job fixing me up.
"Kid, you look like you been through a war." Jones says, picking at his teeth with the little piece of wood, while eyeing all the gauze and tape over my body.
"You would know," I smile knowingly at him, "'Nam?"
Jones smirks at me. "Yeah."
"Medic?"
"Yeah." He says absently as if remembering some things he's seen in his lifetime.
I sigh the word out, "Yeah."
"Anyway," Jones starts, "You're a cop?"
I try to put weight on the leg. The pain causes me to do it more gingerly than I had been able to do; the adrenaline must be wearing down.
"I'm working on it." I glance at the police cruiser with the unseen detective in the trunk. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me."
"Bludhaven isn't the safest city, that's for sure." Jones smiles as he tosses the pick into the grass off to the side.
"Funny… very funny." I chuckle to Jones, the guy has been in 'Nam and Gotham and is complaining about the safety of Bludhaven. I find it amusing.
"This all has to do with the funeral, right?" Jones waves his hand around to encompass the mayhem surrounding us.
"Yeah… the guy in the trunk--"
"They killed your girl." Jones interrupts.
"Yeah." I say staring at him wondering how he knew that this was all over a girl.
"Love." Jones' eyes sparkle. "It makes us do crazy stuff at times."
"You saying I'm nuts?" I laugh at the thought of the notion.
"A "normal" guy doesn't walk into a place looking for a murderer, armed with a tiny little bat and dry wit." Jones stands to his full height and shrugs his shoulders to allow his jacket to fall back into place.
"I guess not." I stare at Toothless lying bandaged up in the dirt.
The smell in the trunk was definitely Pooh. Greene must have had her in the trunk at some point recently. She was killed at my apartment, so she was alive when she was in the trunk.
But Greene isn't the mind behind this.
Someone else is pulling the strings.
"When you saw me carried out, was there anyone else?" I looked up from the body toward Jones.
He's stretching in front of his cab. "Nope. Just the four of them, they carried you out about 2 hours after you went in."
"Thought I told you to leave after 15 minutes?" I can feel my smirk.
"I must have lost track of the time." Jones smiled knowing that I knew he didn't, he just said as much a sentence ago.
"Gonna have to buy you a watch." I wink at him.
"Gotham Knights, of course." Jones returns my wink.
"Of course."
"So what was her name?" I can tell by his voice, Jones is trying not to pry.
"Pooh." My mind drifts a bit with memories.
"This was your pet name for her, huh?" Jones walks towards me a bit.
"Yeah."
"I'm sure she was a sweet kid."
Jones' bright smile brings me back to the here and now. "Actually I haven't seen her in about five years."
"Long time to be away from someone you love." Jones tugs at his cap again and eyes the trunk of the cruiser. "She must have gotten into something fairly deep."
"Like I said," My mind starts to wander again, "I haven't seen her in quite a while."
"Think about it, you're smart." Jones smiles at me. "Put two and two together."
"What do ya mean?" I look at him holding his cap and scratching his head.
"Well," Jones looks around like he doesn't know where to start, "We know she worked at the Embassy."
"Right, I went through this with you already."
"Right." Jones walks toward the cruiser. "You said you could tell Pooh was in the trunk?"
"Yes." I've been through this in my mind a thousand times.
"Is this Greene's cruiser?" Jones makes a wave over the car with his cap like he was doing a magic trick.
"You know?" I glance at the side of the cruiser. "I don't know."
"Well, I'd check that out if I were you." Jones then glances at Toothless. "He from the embassy?"
"Yeah, just a guard there." I nod towards Toothless.
Sirens.
Jones' head spins to look toward the sound, then back into my eyes. "Go."
"You got it Jones." I smile at him and walk towards the cruiser.
"How can I get in touch with you?" Jones asks.
"If you need me." I stop and turn and smile at Jones.
I make an exaggerated wave with my hands toward the air.
"I'll be at the Embassy."
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