or, better still, a diary. I knew my sister kept one, but I didn’t expect to find one. Being an optimist, I kept looking.
W alking into the far bedroom on the right, I saw a king sized bed with a lot of frilly things on it. On one wall was a corkboard with pictures held by little red stick pins. There were a lot of pictures on the board of my sister with men. Most of them were with the same man. I was betting it was a picture of Lockman. I took one of the best ones of Susan by herself and put it in my pocket. On the other side of the board I spotted a picture of a bunch of people sitting around a table with half eaten plates of food stacked on it. Empty wine bottles stood like soldiers waiting at a gate. None of the men looked like bankers just out on the town. Dressed in loud shirts, worn open at the neck, with large gold chains flashing around their necks, the men looked like reform school escapees playing dress up. The women were decked out like kewpie dolls at a penny arcade. Susan was the only one who looked like she had class. She was sitting next to a man who had his left arm around her shoulders covering her left breast with his hand. Susan had the look on her face of a girl waiting for a bus. Lockman was sitting two seats over talking to another woman who could double as Dracula’s wife. I took the picture with Romeo sitting next to Susan.
Looking around , I kept hoping to find my sister’s diary. Pulling out one of the drawers of a nightstand next to the big bed, I found what I was looking for. In the drawer, were my sister’s diary and address book listing friends and acquaintances. I put them in my coat pocket and walked into the next room.
It was as neat as the one I had just left, but there was nothing in the drawers or the closet, nothing, not even dust. If Jake was living in the place he was a cleaning freak.
I walked back into the living room. I didn’t see anything else that might help me. I needed some time to go over what I had found.
Standing in the living room , I heard a key being inserted into the front door lock. I stepped back and pressed myself up against the wall. Reaching behind my back, I removed the Glock-17. While the Glock was live, my hope was that I would not have to shoot whoever was about to enter the apartment.
The front door had one of those little chimes that bonged when the door swu ng open. I saw the person’s shadow as they entered. It was Lockman in the flesh. When he cleared the hall I stepped forward and hit him hard behind the head, knocking him to the floor. When he tried to get up, I hit him again. He didn’t move. Ripping a couple of power cords out of table lamps, I tied him up. Then I walked into the kitchen and looked under the sink for some ammonia. I was in luck. Taking a paper towel, I soaked part of it with ammonia and held it under Lockman’s nose. After a few sniffs of the stuff, Lockman’s eyes popped open and he shook his head back and forth. He wanted to know what happened. I didn’t answer him and waited.
Chapter 1 7
“You ’r e Susan’s brother.”
“For a pimp you’re a smart guy,” I said.
“I’m not a pimp.”
“Yeah,” I said. Then I showed him the picture with the jerk groping my sister’s breast. “Who’s this, the Easter Bunny?”
“That was a party. We were just having some fun,” he said.
“Aha. You like having fun, Lockman? Cause if you do, we can start having some fun. Only thing is, it’s not going to be a lot of laughs for you. Tell me who these clowns are, starting with the groper.”
I saw Lockman’s eyes cloud over. I got a sense he was thinking not so much as to what he told me, but how he said it. While he was thinking, I stood up and walked back into the kitchen. Opening a few drawers, I found what I was looking for. A pair of kitchen shears used to cut through chicken bones. They worked wonders on fingers and other parts of the anatomy. Walking back to the living room, my buddy Lockman was
W alking into the far bedroom on the right, I saw a king sized bed with a lot of frilly things on it. On one wall was a corkboard with pictures held by little red stick pins. There were a lot of pictures on the board of my sister with men. Most of them were with the same man. I was betting it was a picture of Lockman. I took one of the best ones of Susan by herself and put it in my pocket. On the other side of the board I spotted a picture of a bunch of people sitting around a table with half eaten plates of food stacked on it. Empty wine bottles stood like soldiers waiting at a gate. None of the men looked like bankers just out on the town. Dressed in loud shirts, worn open at the neck, with large gold chains flashing around their necks, the men looked like reform school escapees playing dress up. The women were decked out like kewpie dolls at a penny arcade. Susan was the only one who looked like she had class. She was sitting next to a man who had his left arm around her shoulders covering her left breast with his hand. Susan had the look on her face of a girl waiting for a bus. Lockman was sitting two seats over talking to another woman who could double as Dracula’s wife. I took the picture with Romeo sitting next to Susan.
Looking around , I kept hoping to find my sister’s diary. Pulling out one of the drawers of a nightstand next to the big bed, I found what I was looking for. In the drawer, were my sister’s diary and address book listing friends and acquaintances. I put them in my coat pocket and walked into the next room.
It was as neat as the one I had just left, but there was nothing in the drawers or the closet, nothing, not even dust. If Jake was living in the place he was a cleaning freak.
I walked back into the living room. I didn’t see anything else that might help me. I needed some time to go over what I had found.
Standing in the living room , I heard a key being inserted into the front door lock. I stepped back and pressed myself up against the wall. Reaching behind my back, I removed the Glock-17. While the Glock was live, my hope was that I would not have to shoot whoever was about to enter the apartment.
The front door had one of those little chimes that bonged when the door swu ng open. I saw the person’s shadow as they entered. It was Lockman in the flesh. When he cleared the hall I stepped forward and hit him hard behind the head, knocking him to the floor. When he tried to get up, I hit him again. He didn’t move. Ripping a couple of power cords out of table lamps, I tied him up. Then I walked into the kitchen and looked under the sink for some ammonia. I was in luck. Taking a paper towel, I soaked part of it with ammonia and held it under Lockman’s nose. After a few sniffs of the stuff, Lockman’s eyes popped open and he shook his head back and forth. He wanted to know what happened. I didn’t answer him and waited.
Chapter 1 7
“You ’r e Susan’s brother.”
“For a pimp you’re a smart guy,” I said.
“I’m not a pimp.”
“Yeah,” I said. Then I showed him the picture with the jerk groping my sister’s breast. “Who’s this, the Easter Bunny?”
“That was a party. We were just having some fun,” he said.
“Aha. You like having fun, Lockman? Cause if you do, we can start having some fun. Only thing is, it’s not going to be a lot of laughs for you. Tell me who these clowns are, starting with the groper.”
I saw Lockman’s eyes cloud over. I got a sense he was thinking not so much as to what he told me, but how he said it. While he was thinking, I stood up and walked back into the kitchen. Opening a few drawers, I found what I was looking for. A pair of kitchen shears used to cut through chicken bones. They worked wonders on fingers and other parts of the anatomy. Walking back to the living room, my buddy Lockman was
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