Read Deadly Justice Online

Authors: William Bernhardt

Deadly Justice (28 page)

After a long while, Trixie composed herself enough that Ben felt he could ask another question. “Did you go home with your stepfather after the hearing?”

“I had no choice. They literally put me in the car with him. As soon as we were out of sight, he hit me in the face. With his fist. And promised he’d do a lot more when we got home.”

Ben swallowed. He was afraid to ask what happened next.

“We walked through the front door. He turned toward me, his face all twisted up real mean, like he could kill me with his bare hands, and I kicked him right between the legs. Just like that, before he even had a chance to think about it. Hard. While he was down, I grabbed his wallet from his coat pocket and ran out the door. I ran to the bus station, got on the first bus that left and didn’t get off till I was in Tulsa.”

“Do you have relatives in Tulsa?”

“No. I don’t have relatives anywhere, at least not that I know of. I was just out of money. Someone picked me up at the bus station, though. Someone who was scouting for Sonny.”

“Sonny is your…boss?”

“Right. I had no hope at all at this point, and my stepfather’s money was almost gone. I was certain I was going to starve to death, or freeze to death, or the some other horrible painful way. Or get sent back to my stepfather, which would be worse. Sonny offered me hope. He offered to take care of me.”

“If you’d work for him.”

“Right. I didn’t like it, but what could I do? I couldn’t even get a job at McDonald’s at my age. I almost didn’t get a job from Sonny.”

“I didn’t realize he was all that particular.”

“He requires all his girls to have a physical regularly, especially before they start. Says he doesn’t want them spreading diseases that might put off his customers. I couldn’t get a physical, though, without some kind of ID. Thank God for Buddy. I guess you’ve met him; he works the other side. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Only friend, really. He pretended to be my stepfather and got a copy of my birth certificate.”

“And you passed the physical?”

“Of course. And I’ve been hooking ever since. Maybe it’s not my dream come true or anything, but I had to keep on eating somehow. So I made a compromise.”

“Another compromise.” Ben was quiet for a moment. “Seems awfully risky.”

“Hey, life is risky. If you don’t believe me, just try crossing the street in these heels sometime.”

“How long has it been since you left home?”

“Over a year now.”

Ben felt himself sinking into the sofa. Over a year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days on the street. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. I just wish—”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. What a whiner I am.” She brushed away her tears and grinned. “You’re a nice guy, you know. Sweet.”

“Well, anyone else would feel the same—”

“I know that’s not true. Boy, do I know it.” She nodded toward the upstairs bedroom. “You wanna…you know, go upstairs?”

Ben closed his eyes. “No, Trixie. I don’t think that would be…” He struggled to find the right words. “We still need to talk. I know this has been hard for you. But I need to know how you became involved with this Kindergarten Club.”

She shrugged, disappointed, but unwilling to show it. “The Kindergarten Club was around long before me. I was a late entry. They drafted me to replace Carol Jo after she went back to L.A.”

“What exactly is it?”

“A bunch of gross old guys who worked together looking for some cheap easy thrills. They didn’t like to be seen on The Stroll or any of the usual places you’d go to pick up a…date for the evening. So they had this one guy, kind of the head creep, he made all the arrangements. He sent another guy out to gather us up and drive us to The Playground—that’s this place north of the city where no one else ever goes, including cops. The five of us girls would go out there, and then the men would show up, and we’d do…whatever.”

“What’s whatever?”

“Whatever they wanted. It changed from one night to the next. Usually some kind of weird show to get them worked up, then we’d finish off with the usual orgy.”

“The usual orgy?”

“That’s what they liked to call it. It really wasn’t an orgy, ’cause most of those guys weren’t good for more than one time, and only about thirty seconds at that.”

“What kind of a show?”

“Oh, we’d dress up in costumes, or we’d make a big deal of undressing. One time we stripped down and kind of messed with each other. They really liked that. Another time we let them pee on us. They got a big charge out of that, too. One time we tied some of them up and, you know, kind of teased their private parts. I wouldn’t let them tie me up, though. I drew the line there.”

Thank God. Ben’s teeth clenched tightly together. He wasn’t sure which was worse—thinking about her committing these acts, or hearing her recite them in such a matter-of-fact manner. “Why did you do this?”

“Because Sonny told me to. Besides, it paid very well. Every time the Club met, I could afford to take a night or two off, and sometimes Sonny would let me.” Her voice grew quieter. “That would make almost anything worthwhile.”

“This one guy you mentioned—the head creep. What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. I heard about him, but I never saw him.”

“Could you recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Oh…possibly. You know, we’re told not to look the Johns in the face, and I think that’s usually sound advice.”

“Do you remember any of them?”

“I recognized one of them when I saw his picture in the paper. The one who got killed.”

Ben leaned forward eagerly. “What was his name?”

“I don’t remember, but he was the one who used to drive us out to The Playground.” Trixie crossed the room and took a folded newspaper out of the coat closet. “Here it is. I saved the paper.”

Ben glanced at it; he didn’t have to look long. It was the
Tulsa World
article about Howard Hamel’s murder. Hamel’s picture was on the top left corner of the page.

“When you saw this, didn’t it make you suspect you were in danger?”

“I already knew. I suspected when Angel disappeared.” Her eyes reddened. “He got her the day after her birthday. I’d given her a present—one of those necklaces with a gold heart torn in half. You know, she’d keep one half, I’d keep the other. It was supposed to symbolize being friends for life.” Her eyes focused on the carpet. “Some friendship. The next day, she was gone. And now she’s dead.”

“What did you do next?”

“Like I said, I was suspicious when Angel disappeared. But I was certain when they got Suzie and Barbara. I tried to save Bobbie Rae, but I was too late. And then he came after me.”

“Who?” Ben grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Who came after you?”

“I don’t know. I never saw him. But he tried to kill that policeman, and the next day he was all over The Stroll looking for me.”

“That’s why you went into hiding. It wasn’t the police you were hiding from. It was the killer.”

“Right. But I didn’t have anywhere to hide out. Sonny was no help—he wanted me back on the street. I didn’t know where to go. I sure as hell wasn’t going to trust the police again. Buddy was the only person who offered to help. He has this place his grandmother left him. He said I could stay here.”

“Thank goodness,” Ben said under his breath. If Buddy hadn’t gotten her off the street…well, he preferred not to think about it. “Does Buddy live alone?”

“Yeah, other than me. He used to have this boyfriend, but it didn’t work out. So he had plenty of room for me.

“When we were looking for you, we were told to follow the pennies. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the deal with the pennies?”

Her face flushed; for the first time, she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, that. That’s…nothing important.”

“I’m curious.”

“It’s just…see, I try to do nice stuff for people whenever I can, you know? Little rays of sunshine, I call them. Everything is so bad around here, it just seems like…well, any dumb thing might help. Sometimes I swipe change from a John’s pockets and buy flowers for the other girls. Or sometimes I whip up breakfast in bed—I do decent scrambled eggs. And whenever I get pennies, I throw them on the ground. You know, so other people can find them.”

“ ‘See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.’ ”

“Exactly.” Her cheeks were a bright crimson. “Super dumb, I know.”

Ben smiled. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

She shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “Well, we all do what we can.”

“Let me ask you one last question.” Ben touched his side gingerly. “What was that you stabbed me with?”

“Oh!” She reached under the sofa cushions. “I was in the kitchen when you came in. I just grabbed the first two things I saw—the blade from Buddy’s electric mixer, and the extension cord.”

“That blade really stung,” Ben said. “I’m glad you didn’t have time to get to the cutlery.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am. I was just so scared.” She placed her hand on his leg. “Are you sure there isn’t some way I can…make it up to you?”

“I’m sure there is.” Ben gently removed her hand and dropped it in her lap. “From now on, lock your front door.”

42

B
EN TALKED WITH TRIXIE
for almost three solid hours, until he had all the information he thought she could offer. Most of it didn’t pertain directly to the case. He knew from past experience, though, that sometimes the facts that turn out to be the most telling don’t even seem relevant at first. He tried to learn everything he could about Trixie, the Kindergarten Club, and life on The Stroll.

“Trixie, I have to leave for a short while, but I don’t want you to be here by yourself. How long till Buddy comes back?”

Trixie glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s already late. Probably stopped for coffee or something. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Ben said flatly. “I’m going to call a friend of mine to stay with you until I return.”

A fearful expression returned to her face. “Not a cop. I don’t want any cops.”

“Trixie, it’s for your own protection.”

“That’s what they said before. And the next thing I knew I was getting beat up again. For all I know, this killer is some sex pervert cop.”

“Trixie, I don’t think—”

“If you call a cop, I’m running out of here as fast as I can. And you won’t be able to stop me.”

Ben sighed. “All right. How about a woman, then? Not a cop. Someone I know we can trust.”

Her head tilted a fraction. “That might be all right. Who is it, your girlfriend?”

“Just a friend. But a very good one.”

Christina arrived about half an hour later. Her eyes were cloudy, and her strawberry blond hair was a jumbled mess, but she was there. She was wearing a gray sweatsuit and sneakers.

“Ben, do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Of course I do. It’s almost four
A.M.”

“It was a rhetorical question, Ben.” She nodded toward the girl eyeing her carefully from the sofa. “Is that—?”

“Yes. The long-sought Trixie.”

“I figured as much. I’m impressed. Regular Dick Tracy you’re turning into.”

Ben introduced them, then let them chat a few minutes until Trixie appeared reasonably at ease with Christina. Christina soon had Trixie thoroughly engaged in an animated discussion of rock groups and music videos. Ben wrote out his name and his home and office phone numbers and addresses.

“I’m going to my apartment,” he explained to Trixie. “I need to call my office and tell them I won’t be in today, and then call…a friend of mine and tell him what I’ve been doing. And I need to feed my cat. As soon as I’ve taken care of all that, I’ll be right back here.”

“Great.” Ben was pleased to see Trixie smile a bit. She was beginning to trust him.

On his way out, Ben motioned for Christina. “She’s scared to death of the police,” Ben whispered. “That’s why I haven’t called Mike yet. But I will as soon as I get to my place. If you see anything suspicious, or anyone other than Buddy tries to come through that door, I want you to call the police immediately, whether Trixie likes it or not.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t take any risks.”

“The biggest risk here, Ben, is that I’ll return to the slumber my body so keenly craves.”

Ben pointed at Trixie. “If Christina’s eyelids begin to droop, poke her with that mixing blade.” Ben grinned at Christina. “Take my word for it. You won’t fall asleep.”

Night still blanketed the streets of Tulsa. As Ben headed home, the lights surrounding the TU campus cast a blue glow across his windshield. What a night it had been! Ben couldn’t believe he’d been up so long. It was worth it, though—the pieces were finally starting to come together. Hamel, the Kindergarten Club, the accident at Camp Sequoyah—it was all beginning to make a twisted sort of sense. He still didn’t know who the killer was, but the choices were definitely narrowing.

He turned onto Lewis. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the curb just outside his boardinghouse. Not a legal parking place, but who could be particular at this hour of the morning? He got out of his car and stretched; he was stiff from stem to stern. Maybe he would indulge in a shower and shave before he called Mike, just to clear the cobwebs out of his brain.

He froze halfway across the front yard. That was odd—the window to his upstairs room was open. He didn’t remember doing that. In fact, he never opened it; among other reasons, he didn’t want Giselle to get out. Would Mrs. Marmelstein have opened the window? As far as he knew, Mrs. Marmelstein never even went in unless he was home.

He approached the house and stood directly under the window. That’s when it became clear: the window wasn’t opened; it was smashed.

Ben raced through the screen door and bolted up the stairs. He hesitated for a moment in the hallway—what if the intruder was still there? Never mind. He would just have to take his chances.

He turned the doorknob and flung the door open. And gasped.

His apartment had not been ransacked. He had seen places that had been ransacked before, and this was not what they looked like.

His apartment had been destroyed.

Other books

American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson
L.A. Mental by Neil Mcmahon
Never Been Kissed by Molly O'Keefe
The Girl I Used to Be by April Henry
The Arctic Incident by Eoin Colfer
Deep by Linda Mooney
Zane’s Redemption by Folsom, Tina
Machine Of Death by Malki, David, Bennardo, Mathew, North, Ryan