Evil in Hockley (15 page)

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Authors: William Buckel

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BOOK: Evil in Hockley
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“Yah, okay.”

She laughed then hung up.

How the fuck did she know?

Harry dropped off Pierre and Ling then
parked and entered the house. Easy to do as the front door was
unlocked. He noticed someone watching from the shadows as he
entered. That would be one of Pierre’s boys. There was no telling
if Sal had other hit men on the way, still on route.

Chapter 27

 

Harry eyed the clock in his room when
he was awakened by a giggling woman. He watched Sandy run by the
door dressed in an orange costume of frills and lace. It was six in
the morning and he’d gone to bed at four. He wanted to roll over
and sleep but the laughter downstairs got louder with each passing
minute. He showered then went downstairs to where all four women
were busy adjusting each other’s costumes.

“What the?”

Marie turned from fussing with
Shelley’s hair.

“It’s a parade. A gay pride parade. The
big one is on Easter Sunday but there are other smaller ones during
the year. One in summer, today.”

Harry asked,

“Gay Pride? Marie you’ve had three
children?”

Marie shrugged.

“What does that have to do with
it?”

He stared at Sandy.

“Anything you have to tell me? I didn’t
think you were gay?”

Sandy grimaced.

“Well, Karma and I decide we go both
ways. For today anyway. We’re on the lead float, pulled by an old
Cadillac. Wait till you see.”

They were all too occupied with their
dress for Harry to make any sense out of the affair. Even Shelley
who was blind as a bat was totally engrossed with the dress she
wore. She ran her hands up and down the sides and down her thighs
as though trying to conjure up a mental picture. She gasped when
she felt how much of her bosom bulged over the material. Marie was
still touching up her hair.

“I hope you like red Shelley, cause
your dress is the deepest red I’ve ever seen,” said
Harry.

She sighed and looked downward although
unable to see anything. Escaping death two days earlier made her
glow.

Marie wore a dark blue low cut gown
with shoulder pads that extended inches on either side giving her
already hour glass figure a boost. The gown extended to the floor
in large pleats. The waist was tiny and she looked as though she
was in danger of breaking in half. Dressed and in full make up she
looked to be about forty but when Harry did the math it worked out
to ten years beyond that, minimum.

Karma took his breath away. Her thin
black dress was made of silk, clinging to every curve. It was
little more than a slip and under it she wore no bra. He could
almost imagine she’d lost the panties as well. No seams
showed.

He felt a slap across his left cheek.
It was light but did get his attention. It was Sandy, a frown on
her painted face.

“That was for the look,” she
said.

Harry countered with,

“Well, let’s have a look at
you.”

A smile tugged at her lips and she
stepped back feigning shyness. Her breasts weren’t huge but they
were perky. Her dress was orange which accented her light frame. A
darker colour would have made her look thin. It streamed with
pleats and frills. He kissed her gently on the mouth then her
cleavage. He backed up quickly expecting a slap but a giggle
expressed her mood.

Harry had learned one thing over the
years that when a woman was dressed for an occasion they never ate
and if they did they picked at food like a bird. He was the only
one eating breakfast that morning although Karma and Shelley shared
a piece of toast.

There was a knock on the door and Harry
answered. It was Pierre dressed in a tuxedo wearing a top hat.
Along the curb a sixties Cadillac convertible was parked and
attached was an overly decorated float. There were streamers and
all manner of coloured cloth, some three feet in height. The wheels
were the old wooden spoke type he’d seen on an old hay
wagon.

Set in the rear of the wagon was a set
of drop down steps like the ones gypsies used. Guided by Marie and
Karma Shelley was escorted on board and given the honour seat at
the very front of the wagon. They had put a woman’s decorative mask
over the bandages covering her eyes. No one would ever be able to
tell that she was blind. Her head moved in all directions probably
to catch sounds.

Marie sat left of Shelley and Karma at
her right. Sandy stood behind Shelley, her hands on the woman’s
shoulder for support. The combined smiles on their faces lit the
street outshining the sun.

The wagon edged slowly forward and the
steel rims sounded like chalk on a blackboard. The float moved onto
a main street then several others fell in behind. The French
Quarter looked to Harry like streets in magazines of European
cities. They were narrow, barely two cars wide and overhung with
decorative balconies and wrought iron banisters.

It started like cannon fire as a Jazz
band moved along beside the floats. People standing and gazing at
the activities joined others and the procession turned into a
parade.

Hundreds of folk cheered, some sang,
and others laughed. Harry was caught up in it as well. He walked
beside a horse drawn float with a half dozen women showing more
cleavage than a mountain scene. If Sandy caught his stare she’d
slap him silly. She was two floats ahead.

Harry pushed through the crowd and
caught them. There was no telling what would happen on an open
public street. The reality of his life at this moment was the fact
that Lenea was out there somewhere and so was Joe
Sharky.

Sal Bejenco was dead and three union
bosses were fighting to take his place. One less problem to worry
about but that still left the original ones still
active.

Harry scanned the buildings lined with
people on balconies leaning over banisters. Some were taking
pictures and some cheered as the floats passed. His cell buzzed so
he moved off the street and into an alley.

“Hello.”

“Mom and the girls are looking good
don’t you think?”

“Yah, Lenea they are. What do you
want?”

“Nothing much. Joe’s packing up and
going home. Without uncle Sal to back him he’s a tiny bit shaky.
You know you’ve created a hell of a problem for poor Joe. Sal was
the one sending him the goods. No Sal, no product.”

“I feel sorry for him. I’d be glad to
meet with him and permanently help him escape his
dilemma.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t arrange that.
I’m still working for him and now his first priority is to kill
you. He’s upped the anti like I knew he would. You’re a growing
equity, like money in the bank, growing with interest every time
you make a move. You’ll make me a rich woman some day Harry. I’m
glad I didn’t kill you sooner.”

“Always glad to help a friend,
Lenea.”

“You’re such a sexy man. Ever think
about taking on a partner?”

“I like to work alone.”

“I thought so. Well, Harry it’s been a
gas but I do have to go. To help an ailing
acquaintance.”

She hung up.

She used a different phone every time
but not a disposable. Always someone else’s. Like the last time the
caller ID was Sal’s. She was in his house when Harry killed him.
Not only that but she walked off with his phone.

She was like a ghost and moved without
being seen.

Impossible.

Talk about raining on his parade. Lenea
had managed to do that again. He could only do his best so he went
back into the street and caught the lead float. The smiles had not
yet worn thin and all four women waved as folks cheered. He was
moved by the spectacle until he answered his cell. He made a mental
note to never acknowledge the damn thing if he was having a good
day.

It all ended at dusk. Not too soon for
him.

Chapter 28

 

The women talked up a blue storm all
night long as they changed and took baths. One man and four women
might be a dream to some but Harry was feeling the burden more and
more with each passing day. Each one expected some form of
notoriety, an appeasement of some sort. It was difficult to sort
out because it changed from day to day, times four. Four times
infinity is just too much for one man to sort through in an average
lifetime. Or a short one.

It was a late night after the previous
one when he only managed two hours sleep. They finally went to bed
and he kissed Sandy then passed out. As he was losing consciousness
he heard her say,

“Oh, really Harry.”

Her voice was laced with
disgust.

Breakfast was like a beehive in apple
blossom season. The women talked non stop and Harry didn’t even try
to get a word in. They were content when he nodded the occasional
time. Shelley still wore the colourful mask covering her bandages.
Although she couldn’t see, what the mask looked like, she appeared
more comfortable with her eyes shielded. She reminded Harry of a
painting he’d seen of Marie Antoinette.

After breakfast he couldn’t believe his
ears.

Marie said,

“Shelley wants to talk to you about
Jarrod.”

Harry asked,

“What do you remember about the days
before his death?”

Shelley was quiet a few seconds then
said,

“I’m sorry about Jarrod. But I don’t
know much about him.”

“He was seeing you. Why?”

“We were friends. I think I was his
first love years ago.”

“I need to know why he was seeing you
the weeks before his death?”

She was thinking and her lips twisted
as though she was about to cry.

“If I tell you then you’ll blame me for
his death.”

“Shelley you couldn’t have killed him I
know that.”

“Well not directly, but maybe
indirectly.”

“What do you mean? Look, I won’t hold
anything against you. I think it was Joe who killed
him.”

“Joe was there the night Jarrod
died.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I did because I was with him, at his
house.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

Harry could see Shelley was holding
back.

Finally she said,

“All right I’ll tell you even though
when I’m done I know you’ll think the worst of me. But if it
helps…”

“It’s all right. Go on.”

“You know that we girls sold Joe’s
products to customers, right?”

“Yah, I did.”

“Well Jarrod bought cocaine from
me.”

“What? Jarrod never used.”

“He did Harry. I’m not
lying.”

Shelley was upset.

“It’s all right I’m not calling you a
liar. Was he dating you or seeing you in any way?”

“No, he had someone else.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I just know.”

“How?”

“A woman knows. There was a perfume
scent on his shirts. Always the same one.”

“Did you love Jarrod?”

“Of course but I never expected to land
someone like him. He was a success and I was a whore.”

“Anything else you can think
of?”

“Joe didn’t kill him but Joe was pissed
off at him for some reason. I only know because one night I heard
him say, ‘Not that fucking Jarrod again.’”

Harry said,

“Maybe Joe had him killed. Any of this
ring a bell Karma?”

Karma shook her head then
said,

“Nothing, sorry Harry. I kept Joe at a
distance. He wasn’t my type. I guess that’s one of the reasons I
kept close to Tony. I thought if I had a guy then he’d stay clear
of me.”

Shelley said,

“I know that for a fact Karma. Joe said
if you weren’t such a good whore he’d kick the shit out of you. He
didn’t like your independent ways. Said you were a stuck up bitch.
That’s Joe. If you didn’t like him then there was something wrong
with you.”

Harry said,

“All right I’m just thinking out loud
here. Jarrod was buying drugs from you. Joe didn’t like him. You
weren’t involved but you think someone else was.”

“I know, Harry. I know. Lipstick on his
collar and perfume not after shave or cologne. A woman’s perfume.
It smelled like one I wear sometimes, ‘Morning Mist.’”

“How much was he buying. He wouldn’t
deal, would he?”

“Oh no, single dose stuff
only.”

“All right, he was seeing someone and
buying for her. Is it possible?”

Shelley nodded then said,

“Sounds like something Jarrod would do
for someone he liked or loved.”

Harry didn’t say anything but he
expected Shelley to identify the guy holding the smoking gun or in
this case the one who pushed Jarrod off the road. He tried not to
let his feelings show but Shelley must have sensed his
disappointment.

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