The Death Box. J. Kerley A.

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СКАЧАТЬ body had spent time with the weights. He wore a floppy tee advertising a bar in Lauderdale under a black leather vest, tight and beltless Levis pulled from the bottom of the laundry basket, white socks and blue suede Vans with rubber soles.

      “Sorry,” Roy said. “This here’s Ziggy Gershwin, Carson. He’s currently with us for, uh, training. Charlie’s his mentoring officer.”

      I looked at Degan, still tormenting the cup. Pinch. Squeak. He didn’t look thrilled. Roy slapped my back, gave me the Say Something look and I pushed a bright and false smile to my face and started to stand. Before I could open my mouth, Canseco pushed from the table.

      “Can we go now, Cap?” he said. “I got work to do.”

      The rest of the crew made the motions of escape. No one so much as glanced at me. Roy held up both hands. “Hold on … As I mentioned to y’all yesterday, Carson’s gonna lead on the cistern case. That means you folks have to be his resources.”

      Someone moaned. It wasn’t Valdez since she was already complaining. “… guess my big question, Cap, how come Ryder’s getting this action? We know the rules, we know the territory, we’ve got the chops. A cistern stuffed with corpses should be ours.”

      Roy crossed his arms and leaned the wall. “You know what I been telling you, sweet peas. Mr Ryder knows how crazies operate. He’s the best.”

      “It’s fucking Florida, Roy,” Degan growled. “Every fourth person is a psycho. We’ve all tracked ’em and taken them down. We don’t need a freakin’ profiler.”

      “There’s more than profiling,” I said. “You’ve got to—”

      “Figure out are they organized or disorganized,” Canseco interrupted, “sexual or nonsexual. Sadistic? Vengeful? We all know how to read psychos and every shrink tries to turn it into a bigger deal than it is.”

      “Fucking A,” Valdez popped. “Fucking A-plus.”

      Roy rubbed his big palms together. “How often do you hear me say my mind’s made up, chillun?”

      ‘’Bout once every two years, boss,” Tatum said.

      “Then you got nothing to worry about for the next twenty-three months. Class dismissed.”

      The group filed out like scolded schoolchildren. Only Gershwin acknowledged my existence, pausing to extend his fist as he stepped past. I knocked my knuckles against his.

      “Nice meeting you, Alabama,” he grinned. “Welcome to the Sunshine State.”

       6

      “Leala Rosales? That’s your name?”

      “Y-y-yes, señorita.”

      “Stop your bawling. You look like you have something to say. What is it?”

      “Th-the man, the man who b-brought me here … h-he did things to me in the car. Fi-filthy, sinful things and—”

      A crack like a whip.

      “Do you know what that slap was for little Leala? LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU! It was for being a snitch. NEVER tell me such things. And what the gentleman did was not filthy … it’s how you make money. And you better start making money, little Leala. You have a debt to be paid off.”

      “P-please, señorita. I want … to go back. To g-go home.”

      “In that case you must pay what you owe plus the return costs. Do you have thirty thousand dollars?”

      “I HAVE NOTHING! I w-was told that …”

      “You must work, Leala. It’s as simple as that. And there is one very important thing you must know: It is about the police. They are muy peligrosa, dangerous. They hate illegals and will throw you in prison for ever. Look into my eyes, Leala, so that you will see the truth. Do you see it?”

      “Y-yes.”

      “The man who told you of our service. Back in Honduras. Does he not know exactly where you are from?”

      A tentative nod. “Si. He has been to my home.”

      “Then here is God’s truth, Leala: If you are ever stupid enough to talk to the police, you will never see your mama again. You will return to a headstone.”

      “No … please …”

      “So now you know what you must do. Pay your debt.”

      “I c-c-can cook, I can clean. I-I was told I might be a housekeeper.”

      “Are you a virgin?”

      “I-I did not hear. What did you say?”

      “You seem as stupid as you are beautiful. I’ll say it slowly so maybe you can understand: Are you a virgin, Leala Rosales? Have you managed to keep the peasants and priests from your pussy?”

      “The man in the car, he …”

      “He fucked your mouth. Hopefully you learned something useful. Come here and lift your dress. My finger will tell me.”

      “P-please señorita, I beg you. No.”

      “No is not a word you can use any more, Leala Rosales.”

      The footsteps of the investigative staff disappeared down the hall. Roy broke the silence. “That went well, I think.”

      “Went well? I was smelling a lynching.”

      “You’re over-reacting, bud. My guys are intuitive detectives, edgy and a bit self-centered. Like most natural-born dicks they’re basically high-strung children.”

      I shot Roy the eye. He said, “Present company excepted, of course.”

      “It was like they had a personal grudge against me, Roy. I understand being pissy about me having the case, but it seemed bigger than that.”

      Roy beamed at me like I’d just called every winner at Hialeah an hour before the starting bell. “You are beautiful, Carson. Reading people, situations. You absolutely nailed it.”

      “Nailed what?”

      “Initially I planned to add a junior investigator to the staff, got Tallahassee to budget the extra bucks, with enough left over to bump my guys up a well-deserved grade in pay, two actually.”

      “And?”

      “Then I thought, why a junior investigator? I’ll put the money into a seasoned pro. The idea felt so good I thought, Go even further, Roy. So I decided to not only hire a senior investigator but one who was a specialist in crazos as well, more bang for the buck. Bingo, here you are.”

      I replayed Roy’s scenario in my head, following the money. I was making double my salary in Mobile. I sighed. “Degan, Valdez, Canseco, Tatum … not one of them СКАЧАТЬ