Night Slashers: An Agnes McCall Mystery, page 2
With a nod, he began to walk off. He put his hands into his pockets and whistled as he vanished into the shadows.
Daniel turned back to his car. He swung open the door and tossed his brief case into the backseat.
“Tom Naph,” he chuckled. “Who would’ve thought?”
Daniel had known Tom since elementary school. But it wasn’t until their time together in the war that he really got to “know” him. After the shit they’d been through one could easily say they were best friends. Although they’d fallen out of contact over the years, Daniel didn’t trust anyone more than Tom. It was hard not to feel a sense of brotherhood with someone who’d saved your life a dozen times.
Daniel left the garage behind and headed down the street to the bar. When he pulled up to the bustling pub there wasn’t a parking spot in sight. He drove a little further down the road and ended up parking in an empty lot almost half a mile away.
Cursing the cold he quickly strode down the street. Even though it was close to two in the morning, crowds of people were stumbling up and down the sidewalk. They bobbed in and out of the different bars which didn’t close until sun up.
After walking for an eternity, Daniel stepped into the smoke-filled warmth of Whistling Joe’s. He could immediately tell that Victor had consumed a few too many drinks. He was encircled with a large group of women. Boisterously, he was explaining how through his able hands, they could have the body they’d always dreamed of.
The group of ladies obviously had too much to drink as well. They took turns allowing Victor to guess their cup size, weight and other measurements by fondling their breasts.
“Hey Daniel, over here,” Victor yelled. He waved furiously like he was trying to swat a fly. “That’s my counterpart ladies, but hands off he’s married. You’re all mine.”
Daniel rolled his eyes as he made his way to the table. Sighing, he ordered a shot of bourbon then turned to Victor.
“So guess who showed up at the office after you left?”
“You lucky bastard, Meg came back for some one on one huh? Come on Daniel, you know I’ve been working on that piece of ass for months,” Victor replied anxiously.
A skinny, dark-haired waitress sat a small cup onto the table and turned to walk away. Victor grabbed her wrist and winked at her as she pulled her arm back. Daniel eyed him for a moment and then drained the glass of bourbon.
“You know Vic…you’re a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He shook his head and ordered another drink. “Anyway, like I was saying, Tom Naph stopped by.”
“Tom…Tom! Holy shit, I thought that guy would definitely be in some POW camp eating his own fingers by now.” Victor clapped his hands together and laughed.
“Yeah, well he’s here and should be headed down pretty soon.”
Victor threw his arms around two of the women and leaned back. “Well as long as he knows this is my town we should be okay.”
Daniel suppressed a laugh.
“So what is he doing down here anyway?” Victor continued.
“Some kind of security thing. I’m taking him to meet Monica after we leave here,” Daniel said and raised his hand for another drink.
“Oh no, you mean he hasn’t met the warden yet?”
“Don’t be an ass Vic.”
“Ok, ok, but check out the set on this brunette. Cindy, right? She had ‘em done over at Glazer’s office, that farsighted bastard. It looks like there’s a good three hundred cc difference between each one. Oh now, honey don’t cry. We can definitely fix that.”
Victor loved to brag about his skills at shaping the female body. Sad thing was he was pretty damn good. And there’s nothing worse than a conceited bastard that’s actually right.
“Somebody get this broad a drink so she can drown her sorrows,” Victor shouted to the bartender.
Ignoring Victor, Daniel finished another glass of bourbon. He had just sat the cup down when out of nowhere, a wave of Guinness splashed over his face.
“Shut your damn mouth!” someone yelled.
As Daniel wiped the thick beer from his eyes, he looked up and found a burly man standing over Victor. He was wearing a stained white tank top, with sprinkles of chest hair sticking out like dry grass. He had one arm around Cindy, her face pressed against a pizza stain, sobbing into the filthy cloth.
“Get your fat ass up! You need to learn some respect!” the man raged.
“It’s ok Doug,” Cindy whimpered, attempting to quail the situation.
Victor laughed and threw several twenty dollar bills onto the table. “Yeah Doug it’s ok, why don’t you sit down and have a drink sir.” He patted the man on his shoulder and then turned to continue speaking to Daniel. “So how long is Tom gonna be here?”
With his honor insulted, Doug was left with little choice. He let go of Cindy and grabbed a half-empty bottle of Smirnoff. Grinding his teeth he raised it high into the air. In one swift motion, he brought the bottle crashing down towards Victor’s balding head.
Daniel jumped up at speed only matched by wild animals. He caught the bottle in one hand and grabbed Doug’s wrist with the other. With a quick twist Doug found himself on the floor staring up at the dirty ceiling fans.
“What the hell?” Daniel glared down at him. “Are you crazy, asshole?”
Doug slowly shuffled to his feet, his eyes red with anger. As he brushed off his pants he angrily stared at Victor, contemplating whether he was worth killing or not. He bit his lip, clenching his fists at his side.
Doug blinked, then his eyes slowly met Daniel’s and the look that was returned had no hint of pleasant intentions. Gone was the plastic surgeon, gone was the mild mannered husband. What stood there now was a killer. A man without compassion, a man that had done things that even God couldn’t forgive.
Possibly stunned by how fast Daniel had gotten to his feet, or how imposing he looked standing between them, Doug decided not to act. He backed away fuming and then pointed at Victor and spat. “Next time buddy.”
Spinning on his heels he grabbed Cindy by the arm and marched out of the door.
“Whew, close one Dan. Thought I was gonna have to rough somebody up.” Victor grabbed another glass and began to gulp the amber colored liquid.
Daniel watched him with agitation. Victor was such a spineless prick. He’d almost gotten his ass beaten to death and here he was bragging to ladies as if he’d stormed the beaches of Normandy. After several minutes of his jabbering Daniel had heard enough.
“That guys long gone by now. Just… just go home Vic,” Daniel said stern faced as he pointed at the door.
Victor gave him a compunctious look then stood up. “I…I,” he mumbled.
Daniel glared at him and narrowed his eyes. Frowning, Victor scurried out of the bar into the cold night. He looked back one last time, then hurried to his car.
Daniel put his face into his hands and let out a long sigh. He hadn’t lost his temper in a while. Victor was good for bringing out the worst in people.
Daniel took a look around the bar. There were two girls still sitting at the table across from him. One was a chubby blonde and the other was thin with black hair and green eyes. They smiled and licked their lips, sliding closer to him.
“I liked your moves. Maybe I can buy you a drink,” the heavier one said.
“Or just take you home,” the other woman added and they both giggled.
“Ladies,” Daniel mumbled. Without another word he stood up and headed to the bar. He took a seat on one of the rickety stools and stared into a dusty bowl full of cashews.
“Beer,” he said as he flagged down the bartender.
Leaning his head back, Daniel yawned. He stretched his arms then brought his head to rest on his hands. Damn Victor and his big mouth, he thought. Somebody’s gonna kill that guy.
“Closing out your tab?” the bartender asked as he sat a cup in front of Daniel.
Daniel looked up and grabbed the chilly mug from the counter. He nodded then emptied the entire glass in one gulp. Squinting, he slammed the glass back down.
The urge to sleep suddenly washed over him. His head was heavy, his eyelids like boulders teetering over a cliff. He slowly felt himself drifting away.
Gradually, the sounds of the noisy bar disappeared and all was silent. He felt like he was floating on a cloud across an endless sea. He was lost in nowhere, yet somehow he felt right at home.
“Sir, Sir!” a voice broke the silence.
Daniel jumped up and looked around. The bar was almost empty, but the smell of cigarettes and liquor was still fresh in the air. The jukebox was playing some obscure Harry Connick Jr. tune and a glass of ale still sat on the pool table.
“We’re closing. Figured I’d let you sleep it off, but you’re the last one here.” Chuck, the ailing bartender, surveyed Daniel as he cleaned off a mug. “You okay, I can call you a taxi?”
“Sorry about that. I’m fine,” Daniel muttered.
He reached into his wallet, pulled out a few bills and left them on the bar. Staggering, he clumsily wobbled to his feet and headed towards the exit. He swung open the shabby wooden door and breathed in the frigid night air.
Grimacing, he stepped outside and was almost knocked over by a tall, slender man dressed in jeans and a baseball cap.
“Danny!”
“Tom? Hell, I forget all about you.”
“Yeah, I um ran into something. Everything ok in there? I heard some guy come out earlier talking about smashing somebody’s face.”
“Earlier, that had to be an hour ago.” Daniel eyed him inquisitively.
“Well yeah,” Tom said and patted him on the back. “I was gonna head in and check it out, but um then some nice ladies came out. So of course I was a gentleman and escorted them to their car.”
“It didn’t happen to be a short blonde and a skinny chick with green eyes?”
“I see you spotted them first,” Tom said with a grin on his face.
“Yeah, well I guess you could say that.”
Tom had a knack, or really an addiction, for locating the sleaziest women in any town. Although he wasn’t a bad looking guy, he never let an opportunity pass him by.
Daniel sighed and shook his head. “Well, everything was fine anyway, just Victor up to his usual. How long have you been here?”
“About two hours, here as in the parking lot. Had a taxi drop me off, figured if you weren’t here one of these nice New Orleans ladies would be more than willing to take me home,” Tom said.
Daniel grinned then suddenly realized how much time had passed. He looked around at the empty streets. Every business except the bar they were standing in front of had turned their lights off and the only noise aside from them was the bitter wind as it blew through the alleyways.
“Let’s get out of here, I’m sure I’m gonna catch hell from Monica.”
Daniel and Tom started the half mile hike to his car in silence as their teeth chattered from the bitter cold. The empty streets were like dark hallways cascaded in the thick fog that had begun to blow in from the shore. They moved like shadows, gliding through the cool mist.
“You sure it’s ok, me coming over so late…so early?” Tom asked as they walked down the quiet sidewalk.
“Yeah,” Daniel waved him off. “It comes with the territory. Us night slashers tend to keep odd hours.”
Tom started to laugh. “Night slashers huh? Can’t hack the business anymore so you gotta make tit surgery sound dangerous?”
“It’s just what they call us. Don’t be a dick about it.”
Daniel took a deep breath and continued down the road as his mind began to drift to his childhood. The snap of the cold wind was a complete contrast to the scene playing in his head. He thought of the lively summers he enjoyed growing up in the Big Easy. He couldn’t help but feel complete awe at times for how truly beautiful a city New Orleans was. It had a real renaissance feeling about it with the old Victorian homes and the bustling crowd that flooded the streets daily. He felt like he was the Great Gatsby growing up, standing atop the world ready to take on anything.
Daniel absent-mindedly trotted down the cobbled streets. Fully engrossed in his daydream, he didn’t notice the small puddle in front of him. Before he could react, he found himself on his back staring up at Tom, who didn’t bother to hide the grin on his face.
“Balance not what it used to be huh?” Tom offered him a hand and helped him to his feet.
“Thanks. Shit that hurt,” Daniel complained while rubbing the back of his head.
“Looks like you clipped yourself or something old man. Is that blood?” Tom pointed at his back.
“What? No I’m fine I just slipped.”
Daniel wrenched his head around and turned his shirt so he could see the back of it. The white button-up was now stained crimson with blood. He ran his hand across it and rubbed the blood in between his fingers
“Not mine,” he mumbled.
His eyes shifted from his shirt to the cobbled road. A trail of blood trickled down the street, coming to a small pool where he had fallen. He followed the trail with his eyes to a dumpster behind a convenience store that looked condemned.
“It looks like it’s coming from over there,” Daniel pointed.
He looked around and surveyed the streets. Everything seemed quiet and empty. The way things normally seemed before bad things happened.
Daniel paused for a moment. The little voice in his head that had kept him alive during his military days was screaming. Ignoring it, he started walking towards the dumpster.
“Danny!” Tom shouted. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
“One sec, I wanna see what this is.”
“Come on man, leave that shit alone,” Tom yelled.
Cajun Wills Food Store was a rundown little shop that was known in the neighborhood for selling home remedies. They carried the type of things that you normally wouldn’t find in traditional stores. Things that required a witch doctor to work properly.
The back area of the store was partially fenced, but the side to the street was completely open. It exposed a number of green dumpsters lined against a brick wall.
Daniel hesitantly walked around the back where a large, black trash bag was propped against a dumpster. He looked nervously from side to side, following the trail like a hound. Tom continued to shout obscenities from the street as Daniel disappeared into the darkness.
The area near the dumpster was hidden in the shadows. A large oak tree towered over it and a gang of cats manned the brick wall. Pizza boxes and soda cans had erupted from the top and tumbled onto the floor. Roaches scurried across the pile of trash like it was a treasure chest.
Daniel stared at the lumpy trash bag. A constant stream of thick, red blood oozed out of the bottom. He could still hear Tom screaming from the street, but ignored him and reached out to untie the knot on the top of the bag.
“Dr. Montague,” a booming voice exploded from behind him.
Daniel spun around to his right. Instinctively, he crouched down, poised to attack. His fists were balled up and his jaw clenched tight.
“Sheriff Lawson! Jesus you scared me,” Daniel panted as he straightened up and relaxed his hands.
The sheriff raised his eyebrows and stepped closer. He surveyed the scene, eyeing Daniel skeptically.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” the sheriff finally spoke.
“Well, we were headed home from the pub and…well it’s fucking blood. It’s coming from this bag over here.” Daniel pointed towards the dumpster.
The sheriff gazed down with an alarmed guise on his face. “Step back let me take a look.”
He approached the bag and gave it a poke with the toe of his shoe. A glob of blood gushed from the hole on the bottom. This was one of those moments when the sheriff didn’t quite like being the sheriff.
He looked over to Daniel who gave him a look that he perceived to mean well you’re the guy with the gun. Reluctantly, he knelt down and started to untie the bag.
It was a large, thick, black trash bag, the kind that contractors use. He untied the first bag only to find that there was another bag tied together inside. The sheriff’s hands started to quiver as he untied the last bag. He slowly opened it and peeked inside.
“Holy shit!” the sheriff yelped and fell backwards.
With a look of absolute revulsion he turned his head and puked chunks of tuna all over the cobbled street. A smell permeated from the bag so rancid it was almost visible. It was enough to make someone tear their nose off.
Daniel inched forward and glanced inside. He gagged and immediately covered his mouth, swallowing back vomit.
“What kind of bastard would do this?” the sheriff uttered.
TAKING OUT THE TRASH
Daniel’s black BMW zipped down the road in silence. He stared straight ahead, nervously tapping on the steering wheel. Tom gazed out of the window in a trance, watching his breath turn to fog on the glass.
The car slowed as they rounded the corner into the neighborhood. Daniel lived in a prestigious community known as Olivander Oaks. The streets were lined with large, Victorian houses. Each residence occupied a small football field. Enormous oak trees lumbered like giants on every corner and the lush green grass looked as though it’d never known a day without water.
“What do you think the sheriff’s gonna do?” Tom asked still staring out of the window.
“Not sure, but he’s a cat lover. What can he do though? I mean it’s just a bunch of fucking dead cats.”
“Yeah, takes one sick son of a bitch to do that though and leave em behind a dumpster. Guess it could’ve been worse, I was expecting to find Victor’s fat ass,” Tom grinned.
They both let out a little laugh. Daniel sighed and shook his head as the car pulled into the driveway.
“So let’s keep this cat stuff between me and you. I don’t wanna freak Monica out,” Daniel muttered as he opened the car door.
“You’re the boss.” Tom said.
Daniel grabbed the wrought iron handles and pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his New Orleans home. Stepping inside, he was immediately tackled by a large, brown retriever named Pocket. Pocket was rescued from the pound after he had been confiscated from his previous owner; a homeless man who’d taught the dog how to snag wallets from unsuspecting tourists.
