The Charleston Knife is Back in Town by Ralph Dennis

Author:Ralph Dennis [Dennis, Ralph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732065673
Publisher: Brash Books
Published: 2018-12-02T22:00:00+00:00

Art hunched over in his light fall topcoat. “You sure it’s her?”

We were on the banks of the little trashed-up stream that runs through Orme Park. A little earlier an elderly lady had gone there to walk her dog. That was around noon. Crossing the little footbridge she’d looked down and seen Heddy’s body.

Heddy was sprawled there, legs grotesque as a cotton doll’s, head down in the shallow water. The moving water had washed the blood away from the cut on her throat. Now the wound almost looked natural, like gills on a fish.

“It’s Heddy.”

“Think her boyfriend, Maxwell, did it?”

I shook my head. It wasn’t likely. Art knew that as well as I did. I guess he was just setting it up so I went along with it. “You could always use that as a reason for pushing a hunt. Wanted for questioning.” I stepped back. I’d seen death a lot. Too many times. Maybe Heddy wasn’t any great loss the way the world figures great losses. But maybe she deserved better than this. If death was obscene, then Charleston knew how to make it even more so, how to rip the last bit of dignity away.

A uniformed cop directed the meat wagon over the curb and down toward the stream. I didn’t want to watch that so I went over and sat on the semi-circular concrete seat that ran around the water fountain. Art followed me. He shook out a couple of cigarettes and offered me one. He lit both and shook the match out in the wind.

“You weren’t involved with her, were you, Jim?”

“Not with her. She wasn’t my type, but goddammit, I think. . . . ” I gave that up. An ex-cop talking about the value of human life? But I had to give some reason Art would understand. “I guess I feel guilty about some of it. I conned her and fucked her over to get Walt Middleton’s name out of her. That’s nothing to be proud of. I guess I could have taken the time to say I was sorry about it.”

“Come on, Jim,” Art said, “you sound like senility just hit you a lick.”

I just looked at him. He read me and backed away from it.

“All right, Jim, strike that.”

I nodded.

“That pissed, huh?” He stepped away and yelled to one of the other cops to stay around until it was closed out. When he returned he said, “Even without an expense account I’m going to buy you a drink.”

We got into his unmarked car and made the circle and headed back toward Monroe Drive. I looked back once and saw the meat wagon grunting and snorting its way back over the curb and onto Brookridge Drive.

Goodbye, Heddy, you with the beautiful breasts, the pincushion legs, and the hot liquid mouth. In the next life come back as a tree.

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