Thursday, October 30, 2008

A murderous planet pt 3.

James walked in after a few minutes.

"Thanks for waiting everyone," he said with a slight grimace on his face. His mustache rippled when he began his next sentence. "Amanda, Chelsie, you can take off. You two will be asked some questions," he finished by pointing his finger at myself and Evan.

"What the fuck," Evan said with a sigh. "I didn't do shit."

"That's good. It should be that way. All the same the police still have to do their work." James walked to the bar and sat on a stool. "It will only take a few minutes. Don't worry about the rest of your side work, I'll get it done myself. Just give me your drops and go," he said addressing the girls. Chelsie and Amanda scrambled to get their shit together and quickly scurried out the door.

I looked outside and could see the two officers smoking cigarettes over the body. The stocky one bent over and blew smoke into the corpse then stood back up. He looked across the patio and the two of them began to come inside.

"Which one first," Officer Funkhouser said to his partner.

The gaunt officer pointed at me. Funkhouser came over to me and grabbed my arm jerking me up from my seat. I was a little buzzed and slouched onto him. He drove his fist into my ribs. I bent over with a groan. The officer dragged me outside and dumped me on the ground. The gaunt officer lit a hand rolled cigarette. He blew smoke up into the air and looked down at me.

"Talk," Funkouser commanded.

I coughed and looked at the cobblestone on the ground. It was slightly wet with the night dew. It was cold. I cold see my breath as air escaped my lungs. I looked up at them and shook my head.

"Talk," Funkhouser repeated. His face became red and he leaned down towards me. "Talk," he screamed.

"I'm not the type to talk, even about this beautiful weather," I swung my hand up at pointed to the stars that were lightly covered by a grey smog.

"Fucker," Funkhouser said as his boot smashed into my ribs. My stomach caved into the steel toe of his boot. My body groaned and became more fetal.

"What do you say," Funkhouser said to his partner. Officer Ryder looked at his cigarette then bent over and pushed it into the side of my face. There was a slight hiss as the ember burned the skin of my cheek.

"No good cop, bad cop? Just all bad for you boys," I snarled.

"Looks like we've got a real winner here, my friend." Funkhouser clapped his partner's shoulder. Ryder shoulders shook briefly. Funkhouser kicked me again. Blood coughed out of my mouth. I rose to my feet and looked at the officers.

"Any more questions? Or will the interview continue with the end of your limbs?"

"We've got our eye on you. It don't matter to us whether you did the deed or not. Your little tough guy attitude has got the spotlight on you. The last thing we need in this fucking town is another little steamboat thinking its the grand dreadnought of the fucking fleet."

"Living without fear is the highest form of wisdom," I replied spitting out blood with my words.

Ryder came up and slapped me. My cheek flushed red.

"Can I go?"

"Scram shitbag," Funkhouser said. I left the restaurant and walked home in the dark. I could only imagine the beating Evan would get. The girls got passes because they were commodities, and their lady owned a piece of the stake. Having little else to do now that the security force was doing all the work, the brass enjoyed shaking people down more than they ever had in the past. It wasn't an unusual experience and I shrugged off the whole incident when I made it home.

I still had a half bottle of Jameson that I'd been saving. At the end of my night a quarter remained. My mind was fuzzed and dreary. The beating had took a little out of me. My morning would be one of pain I thought as I passed out in my bed. Pain and bad habits were my last thoughts as my eyes closed and consciousness drifted away from me like a steamboat chugging into the sunset.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i really like the last sentence. it's a very "this is the story of my life"- sentence