Wrecked by Joe Ide

Wrecked by Joe Ide

Author:Joe Ide [Ide, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, None
ISBN: 9780316509510
Google: 4IpAtAEACAAJ
Amazon: B079L5MMZF
Barnesnoble: B079L5MMZF
Goodreads: 38496758
Publisher: Little, Brown
Published: 2018-10-09T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter Nine

Tell Them Everything

It was late and Chester and Sylvia were on the pier in Rainbow Lagoon. It was high tide in a high wind, breakers crashing against the pier, hissing as they retreated into the dark; the damp air smelling of salt and the tar on the pilings. There was no one around, the businesses closed up tight. The area looked like it was waiting for a hurricane.

“I’m freezing!” Sylvia said, clutching her white rabbit-fur jacket to her throat. “I want to go back!”

Chester’s teeth were chattering. “N-not now, my love, just a little l-l-longer. The fresh air is b-b-bracing, wouldn’t you say?”

“This is ridiculous!” Sylvia shouted. “I’m going back!” Chester was leaning over the railing. He pointed. “Look, darling, it’s Ichthys!” Ichthys, Chester had learned, was the pagan fish symbol for the Great Mother Goddess and represented the outline of her vulva, and goddesses of any kind were always of interest. He didn’t know how Sylvia got herself over the railing, but there she was, plunging headlong into the black, undulating sea, flailing her arms and yelling something that sounded like Fuck you, Chester! A curse on your—

Chester got an equity loan on Sylvia’s condo, remodeled the shop, expanded his inventory, and did more advertising, but the uptick in revenue was hardly worth the trouble. And then the police opened an investigation into Sylvia’s accident. Two homicide detectives called Chester in for questioning.

“Why did you decide to go for a walk in the middle of the night?” the bald one asked.

“My wife and I were vampires in another life.” Chester grinned to show his teeth. “The night is our milieu.”

“Uh-huh,” said the second bald detective. “Well, how did five-foot, one-inch Mrs. Vampire manage to fall over a chest-high railing?”

“She wanted to see Ichthys.”

They grilled him for three hours. He thought he was pretty convincing, but when they directly accused him of killing Sylvia he asked for a lawyer. The cheapest defense attorney he could find was a grubby little shyster who advertised on bus benches and had a grubby little office on the wrong side of Seventh Street. Nevertheless, for a murder case he wanted a ten-thousand-dollar retainer and promised there’d be more costs if they went to trial. Chester didn’t have ten thousand dollars and that’s when he remembered Nona telling the story about Deronda, Dodson, and Isaiah robbing Junior. A record search revealed their financial situations. Not promising, but Isaiah was a neighborhood icon with a reputation for being clever, creative, and relentless. Chester didn’t want to deal directly with someone they called IQ, so he went to Dodson, who would naturally tell Isaiah, and Isaiah would come up with a plan.

But now Dodson was stalling so Chester called the wretched little termite in for a meeting. Chester looked around at his creations, each its own sun, reflecting his artistry, his mastery of the craft. He could hardly stand to sell them. The knives weren’t his children exactly, but they were extensions of him, pieces of his genius the public was privileged to buy.



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