The Man from Primrose Lane by Renner James

Author:Renner, James [Renner, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

EPISODE ELEVEN

THINGS ELIZABETH NEVER TOLD HIM

“Come on, man, you’ve got us on the edge of our seats,” said Synenberger, rubbing his bald head distractedly, as if he were trying to keep David’s preposterous story inside his skull in some semblance of order. “What did the man in the shadows tell you on his boat? I mean, obviously he didn’t kill you. Wait. What happened to the snuff film, anyway? I almost forgot about that. You had it in your hands, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“So where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

David looked over at Russo and was surprised to find him smiling. He gave David a nod and turned to his assistant excitedly. The young woman raced out of the room. David didn’t have the slightest idea why Russo was suddenly happy. To him it still felt like Synenberger was doing a stand-up job of eviscerating him—and the state’s case against Riley Trimble—on the stand.

“Well?” asked Synenberger. “Go on with your story.”

David cleared his throat. Russo made his hands like he was pulling taffy. He did it quickly just as Judge Siegel blew his nose into a hankie.

Stall.

“He told me not to shine the light in his eyes, so I never really got to see his face,” said David.

Synenberger rolled his eyes. “Of course not,” he said.

“‘Give me the film,’ the man said to me, ‘Give …

* * *

… me the film.”

He handed the reel of old film stock to the man who stood in the darkness of the captain’s bedroom. As he did, David bumped the nightstand to cause a little noise. Still, he thought the man might have heard his sleight of hand, the brittle snapping under the shifting of objects upon the table.

“How did you find this?” he asked. “How did you know about this?”

David said nothing.

“I have a gun,” the old man said. “Tell me.”

“No,” said David. He didn’t know if the man had a gun or not. Quite possibly men like this carried weapons meant for killing. But this man sounded weak, like his grandfather used to sound after climbing a couple steps. David knew that the man did not have a gun in his hands at the moment, anyway—he could see them both and one was holding the film reel. In the waistband of his slacks? Maybe. But how quickly could he get to it?

Apparently the old pederast sensed his doubt. He launched himself at David. The film tumbled to the deck and suddenly the man was at David’s neck with his scrawny hands. If his body was weak, his hands, at least, were quite strong. They choked David’s throat closed. Long nails pinched into his neck.

Kill him! Brune shouted. David heard it not in his mind this time, but in his ears. Kill him! Kill him!

“Oh, I will,” said the old man, leaning against him. He could feel the old man’s growing hard-on under the thin slacks.

David scraped at the old man’s chest, ripping open the button-up flannel shirt. The man’s chest was devoid of hair and slippery with lubricant.

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