Read Online A Passing Curse (2011) by C R Trolson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C R Trolson
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theories. “You should get out more.”
“He’s also a vampire, Mr. Wisenheimer. There’s something you can hang your hat on. A vampire and he’s greedy, mean, and vicious.”
“I knew there had to be something else,” he said. “You mentioned missing persons? Does Ajax Rasmussen have plans for an army of zombies?”
“Ten in the last few years,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “And don’t sit there acting like you don’t know who Ajax is, because if you don’t, you wouldn’t be much of a detective and, if that’s the case, you’ll only get yourself killed you hang around here. You’d be better off taking your little fingerprint kit and heading back to la-la land.”
“You’re right,” he finally said, “I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I didn’t know about Ajax Rasmussen.”
He told her about the blood he’d found at the California Hotel. How the units had been factory-sealed by Cirrus Industries, and when he’d called Cirrus, how they’d claimed that since they only shipped blood to hospitals, the only way a private citizen could obtain their product was to steal it from a hospital. The LA hospitals, he’d called over thirty of them, had never heard of any blood being stolen or lost. And since their inventory was scrupulously accounted for, he should ask Cirrus. It was probably only a small mistake in their accounting.
“They had you going in circles,” she said. “Welcome to the club. You didn’t need much proof when you killed Homer.”
“How do you know I didn’t make a mistake?” he said and watched her as she warmed his coffee and sat down. “How do you know that?”
She considered this for a second, then reached over and touched his hand, much like a grandmother would calm a small child, “Kill him.”
“You could get in trouble for saying that. That’s twice now. I’m a retired police officer,” he said, a little smugly, wanting to see if he could scare her. “Retired police officers are supposed to report all threats.”
She laughed at him. “Being a cop didn’t stop you killing Homer. And if he did what you said, killing all those girls, well, then he needed killing. He needed killing just like Ajax Rasmussen needs it.”
“That was self-defense. I killed Homer in self-defense. I need proof. You’ve heard of it? I need your help finding proof against Ajax Rasmussen.”
“Proof? I don’t have time for that and neither do you. Since when did proof ever stop you LA boys? It has to be done, so do it. You’re big enough. You don’t need me holding your hand. Proof isn’t going to stop Ajax. Kill him. And you’d better do it before he knows why you’re here and if I know Ajax, he knew you were coming way before you did.”
She was probably right. He pushed himself away from the table. He did not want to waste any more time telling her he wasn’t going to kill Rasmussen. “I’ll do what I can.”
She was not impressed. “Ajax isn’t going to cut you any slack, boy.”
He headed towards Foggy Ben’s. He was not hungry. Hannah Everett had fixed a good breakfast, but he wanted coffee and a paper to read. A slice of pie was not out of the question. He wanted to think.
He saw Foggy Ben’s in the distance and heard the waves hitting the breakwater. A dredger worked the channel. Gulls dived at the wake. Fishing boats made their way out of the harbor. He was positive that Hannah Everett was crazy. He was sorry he’d talked to her. Kill Ajax? He wished it were that simple.
He bought a newspaper from the outside rack and walked inside Foggy Ben’s. He said hello to the waitress. She seemed happy to see him and smiled back, patting his arm and escorting him to a table like he was her new best friend.
He was about to ask what kind of pie they had when she set the coffee down and slapped the front page of some tabloid in front of him, smoothing it out with red hands.
He saw the picture of himself in the blue uniform taken at the LA Police Academy
“He’s also a vampire, Mr. Wisenheimer. There’s something you can hang your hat on. A vampire and he’s greedy, mean, and vicious.”
“I knew there had to be something else,” he said. “You mentioned missing persons? Does Ajax Rasmussen have plans for an army of zombies?”
“Ten in the last few years,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “And don’t sit there acting like you don’t know who Ajax is, because if you don’t, you wouldn’t be much of a detective and, if that’s the case, you’ll only get yourself killed you hang around here. You’d be better off taking your little fingerprint kit and heading back to la-la land.”
“You’re right,” he finally said, “I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I didn’t know about Ajax Rasmussen.”
He told her about the blood he’d found at the California Hotel. How the units had been factory-sealed by Cirrus Industries, and when he’d called Cirrus, how they’d claimed that since they only shipped blood to hospitals, the only way a private citizen could obtain their product was to steal it from a hospital. The LA hospitals, he’d called over thirty of them, had never heard of any blood being stolen or lost. And since their inventory was scrupulously accounted for, he should ask Cirrus. It was probably only a small mistake in their accounting.
“They had you going in circles,” she said. “Welcome to the club. You didn’t need much proof when you killed Homer.”
“How do you know I didn’t make a mistake?” he said and watched her as she warmed his coffee and sat down. “How do you know that?”
She considered this for a second, then reached over and touched his hand, much like a grandmother would calm a small child, “Kill him.”
“You could get in trouble for saying that. That’s twice now. I’m a retired police officer,” he said, a little smugly, wanting to see if he could scare her. “Retired police officers are supposed to report all threats.”
She laughed at him. “Being a cop didn’t stop you killing Homer. And if he did what you said, killing all those girls, well, then he needed killing. He needed killing just like Ajax Rasmussen needs it.”
“That was self-defense. I killed Homer in self-defense. I need proof. You’ve heard of it? I need your help finding proof against Ajax Rasmussen.”
“Proof? I don’t have time for that and neither do you. Since when did proof ever stop you LA boys? It has to be done, so do it. You’re big enough. You don’t need me holding your hand. Proof isn’t going to stop Ajax. Kill him. And you’d better do it before he knows why you’re here and if I know Ajax, he knew you were coming way before you did.”
She was probably right. He pushed himself away from the table. He did not want to waste any more time telling her he wasn’t going to kill Rasmussen. “I’ll do what I can.”
She was not impressed. “Ajax isn’t going to cut you any slack, boy.”
He headed towards Foggy Ben’s. He was not hungry. Hannah Everett had fixed a good breakfast, but he wanted coffee and a paper to read. A slice of pie was not out of the question. He wanted to think.
He saw Foggy Ben’s in the distance and heard the waves hitting the breakwater. A dredger worked the channel. Gulls dived at the wake. Fishing boats made their way out of the harbor. He was positive that Hannah Everett was crazy. He was sorry he’d talked to her. Kill Ajax? He wished it were that simple.
He bought a newspaper from the outside rack and walked inside Foggy Ben’s. He said hello to the waitress. She seemed happy to see him and smiled back, patting his arm and escorting him to a table like he was her new best friend.
He was about to ask what kind of pie they had when she set the coffee down and slapped the front page of some tabloid in front of him, smoothing it out with red hands.
He saw the picture of himself in the blue uniform taken at the LA Police Academy
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