Some Degree of Murder

Wednesday, April 21st 1421 hrs 1612 East Wales

TOWER

The door slammed shut and for a brief moment, I was engulfed in darkness.

After a second or two, my eyes readjusted to the low light in the room. I stared at Rowdy’s still form on the floor and the growing slick of dark blood spreading outward from what remained of his head.

I raised my gun and fired three quick shots at the door. I aimed for the doorjamb just to the right of the door. The bullets bit into the drywall and two by fours with a thud as the muzzle flashed in my hand.

When the echo of the shots died away, I stood still for a long moment, looking at the door through the tendrils of smoke, which rose from the barrel of my gun. The sulfuric odor of gunpowder mixed with the coppery smell of blood and filled the air.

I took several deep breaths, trying to think and not wanting to think, all at the same time.

You screwed up, John.

I sniffed at the smell that hung heavily in the air.

You killed him, as sure as if you pulled the trigger.

I cleared my throat and that sound in the still air startled me. I slid my Glock back into the holster. I walked over to the door and pushed the crash bar, swinging the door open into the sunlight. Virgil’s gun lay on the dirt path near the back door. I left it there.

I stepped back into the building and hurried toward the small room where Rowdy had tied up the girl. As I passed Hiero’s gun on the floor, I snatched it up and put it in the small of my back, covered by my sport coat. Inside the room, the degrading pose and the brutality of the object inside her sent a shot of rage through my belly.

I pulled the grotesque green piece of plastic from her and set it on the bed, resisting the urge to hurl it against the wall. An open folding knife with a blackened tip lay on the ground near the shattered boom box. I used it to cut the girl free. Her legs sprung downward as soon as I cut the rope and she flopped loosely onto her side.

My fingers found her carotid artery and I was almost immediately rewarded with a faint, lethargic heartbeat.

She was alive.

I removed my jacket and covered with it. A little of it was for warmth. The rest was for dignity.

A small moan escaped her lips.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to her, even though she probably couldn’t hear me.

I wanted to take her to my car and keep her there until medics arrived. But I couldn’t turn my car into a crime scene. The weight in the small of my back told me that.

I was desperate to comfort the girl and call her by name, but I remembered she hadn’t told me that night I saw her on Sprague and she’d been so angry about her dead brother. I settled for stroking her shoulder twice through my jacket, before turning and walking as fast as I could out of the room.

As I left the building the brisk air of April hit me like an icy wall. I realized how much I had been sweating when cold bit into me at my underarms, chest and neck. I could even feel the cold air on my legs through my slacks as I trotted toward my car and unlocked the door. Once I started the car, I reached across the passenger seat and opened the glove box. I put Hiero’s gun inside and slammed it shut.

Up the block, I could see the first curious heads poking out of windows. A pair of pedestrians came around the corner and stared up the street. Things were in motion. The show was about to start.

I took a deep breath and reached for the radio mike.