The Ethical Assassin

“I wouldn’t know that,” she said with a cluck of her tongue. “I hardly even know what people today take. In my day, we just drank, you know. The other things, like reefer and such, were for coons.”

“Raccoons, ma’am?” I asked.

She giggled and waved a hand at me as if we were old joking pals. “Oh, you stop.”

“What about the man she was seeing?” I ventured. I liked the way it came out, all TV and professional sounding. “Are you familiar with him?”

“You mean that Bastard fellow? Oh, yes. I didn’t much care for him. Not a nice man. You could tell by his name. Not a proper nickname, I don’t think.”

“That’s right,” I agreed. “Nice people have nicknames like Scooter or Chip.”

“That’s right. I heard he was into drugs, too. And I heard he was selling them with-”

And then she stopped. She stopped, she looked around the trailer, and she flipped at the metal ring on the top of her can of Tab.

“Go on,” I urged.

“It don’t matter. But she and her boyfriend were into drugs all right. And that’s why her husband took her kids away, because she was hooked on something, and they say she was letting that Bastard fellow have his way with one of the girls.”

“Ma’am,” I said evenly, “tell me more about the business with the drugs. Does this have anything at all to do with the police chief, Jim Doe?”

Vivian looked down. “Oh, no. Not that I heard nothing of. I got nothing bad to say about Jim Doe. He’s always been nice to all of us. Except for the smell that comes over from his pigs there, he’s done nothing but good here. I’ll tell anyone that.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Just one more question.” I was begi

She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I think we done enough questions today. I think maybe it’s time for you to go.”

“Just one more,” I urged.

“No,” she said. Her face had grown pale and her skin slack.

“All right.” I stood up. “Thanks for your time. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if you feel like talking to me might get you in trouble with that policeman.”

The woman said nothing.

“I can promise you,” I continued, “I would never do or say anything to let him know you’d helped me. But the thing is, if he knew you spoke to me, he wouldn’t have to know what you said, would he? I mean, you might tell him that all you did was give me cookies and a drink and smile at my questions, right?”

“That’s right,” she said slowly.

“That’s all he would get from me, if it came down to that, though I’m sure it wouldn’t. So, since I’m here, and he’s not going to find out anything about what was said, there isn’t anything wrong with answering just one more question, is there?”

“I guess not,” she said.

“You’re absolutely right,” I told her, as though this argument had been hers all along. “Do you know if there was a woman in her forties or early fifties who might be a regular visitor at Karen’s trailer?”

Vivian nodded. “Probably her mother,” she said. “If it were anyone, it would be her mother, the whore. She sometimes comes for a visit. Karen says she comes without calling, just pops in without knocking, like she’s trying to catch her daughter at something. That would probably be it. They’re both whores,” she added thoughtfully.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks so much. You’re really going to help me crack my case.” It sounded pathetic, but it seemed to soothe her.

“Well, you can come back anytime if you just want to talk, a polite young man like you. I’m happy for the company. Ever since my Rita went missing, I’ve been so lonely.”

My first thought was that there was another dead person in Meadowbrook Grove, but something told me I was wrong. “Your poodle?” I asked.

Her eyes brightened. “Do you know her?”

She sounded as though we were at a party and she mentioned someone who might run in the same circle I did.

“No, I just noticed all the poodle pictures.”

“Oh, yes. She disappeared a few months ago. I’m just so broken up about it. She was so beautiful. Not one of those tiny toy poodles, either, but a proper standard poodle. Black with a white patch on her head so she looked like she was wearing a hat. Such a sweet girl, my Rita. She always loved to play with the little children around here. And she loved fruit. You know, strawberries and grapes and bananas. All the kids knew it and would bring her fruit to eat. She was so happy and fat. I just wish I knew what happened to her, where she is now.”

Her eyes were watering, and I turned away. “I’m very sorry she’s disappeared,” I offered.

She sniffled. “You’re very kind.” And she surprised me by giving me a kiss on the cheek.

Melford had agreed to hang back two or three trailers down, but when I came out of Vivian’s house, I saw no sign of him. My stomach churned, only a little at first, but as I walked closer to where we’d started and still couldn’t find him, the idea of being trapped in that trailer park alone, where Jim Doe might easily find me at any moment… well, none of that sat well.

I went back almost precisely to Karen’s trailer, but I realized that was a terrible idea, so I moved again toward Vivian. Still no Melford. The sweat now came streaming off me, and the hog lot smell began to give me a headache.

I began to walk the dusty streets back toward the Kwick Stop. Once I was there, I would at least be out of Doe territory. It was like walking through a minefield, and I expected some kind of boom with each step. Every time I heard the rumble of a car behind me, an invisible fist squeezed my heart. Every grasshopper disturbing the weeds, every lizard darting to safety. It was all terror.

But I made it to the convenience store without incident, and as I approached I noticed a familiar-looking car in the parking lot. It was Melford’s Datsun. The car pointed away from me, so I could see only the back of his head- and the back of the person in the passenger seat.

It took an instant to see that it was the mysterious woman who worked for our unknown enemy. It was Desiree.

Chapter 27

AT THAT MOMENT, I believed my best option would be to run away. Away from Melford, away from Jacksonville – away from all of it. At least I told myself it was the smart thing, since I found it easy to ignore all of the difficulties bound up with fleeing. It didn’t matter, anyhow. I was beyond smart. Way beyond smart. I was well into pissed off.

I went over to the car and rapped on the driver’s side. Melford rolled down the window. “How’d it go?”

“You fucking shit,” I said.

His eyes widened. “That bad?”

“You were supposed to wait for me.”

“And I did. Right here.”

“No, you were supposed to wait for me in the trailer park.”

Melford’s face crinkled in puzzlement. “Why would I do that? I would just be drawing attention to myself. We agreed to meet here.”

That wasn’t how I remembered it at all, but Melford recalled the conversation with such conviction that I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake. He, after all, was the one used to formulating covert plans, cooking up schemes. Maybe I’d heard what I’d wanted to hear since I didn’t like the idea of him leaving me all alone.

“What’s this?” I asked, gesturing with my head toward Desiree, who had been smiling agreeably at me the whole time.

“You remember Desiree,” Melford said.

“Of course I remember her. What’s she doing here? What are the two of you doing sitting so cozily together?”

“Excuse us,” Melford said to her. He got out and led me about fifteen feet away, over toward a pair of newspaper vending machines. “So, what did you learn?”