The Kings Of Cool

217

“I don’t want to go to jail for the rest of my life,” Brian says.

Dennis laughs at him. “Who gives a flying fuck about what you want? This is only about what I want. And you’d better start thinking real hard about what it is that I want. One, two, three, go.”

It’s painful watching Brian try to string his thoughts together to form one line of cause and effect.

Dennis runs out of patience.

“Let me be the local news,” he says, “and tell you what’s happening in your world. You think you don’t want to spend the rest of your life behind bars? Your buddy Crowe really doesn’t. In fact, I just left him because I needed to get a new box of Kleenex, he’s been crying and snuffling and sniffling so much in there. Are you ready for this? He’s trying to give me you for the Munson murders.”

Because, for all his corruption, Dennis is a man of his word.

He promised Ben Leonard that he’d try. And one look at Brian’s eyes, Dennis knows it’s true. He and Crowe killed the Munson kid and the girl.

“What?!” Brian yelps.

“Yup,” Dennis pushes. “He says you pulled the trigger. He’s got the needle pointed right at your fucking arm.”

“No way. He-”

Brian stops short.

“We know it was one of you,” Dennis says. “The question is, which?”

Neglecting to mention that it doesn’t fucking matter who actually pulled the trigger. But if Brian doesn’t know that, tough shit. Ignorance has its costs. If you’re going to be a criminal-know the fucking law, asshole.

“I don’t think it was you,” Dennis says. “You don’t strike me as the type who’d kill a girl. You just don’t. I think it was Duane, but he’s in there sobbing that he watched you do it… he has nightmares… ‘Brian just blew her brains out. He was laughing as he did it.’ Juries love that shit, Brian.”

Brian gets this look of feral cunning on his face.

“Wouldn’t I be guilty anyway, though?” he asks. “Even if I was just there? Which I wasn’t, but if I was?”

Goddamn it, Dennis thinks. If there’s anything he hates it’s a half-intelligent skell with a little information. Law amp; Order has totally fucked up the interview room.

“True,” Dennis says. “But there are distinctions in terms of sentencing. One of you gets life, the other gets the cocktail. Which you’re not going to think is a big distinction until they strap you down, and then you’re going to think it is, because Duane will still be eating meals and taking shits and jerking off, and you… well, they say it’s painless, but they say a lot of things, don’t they?”

Brian toughens up. “I don’t know anything about those killings.”

“That’s too bad,” Dennis says, “because now you can’t give me what I want.”

He starts out the door, then stops and turns.

“If you haven’t already figured this out,” Dennis says, “Duane and the boys can’t risk keeping you around.”

“You’re saying they’re going to kill me?”

“No, they’re going to give you a pony,” Dennis says. “What the fuck you think they’re gonna do?”

Dipshit.