CHAPTER 10
RAILROADED
After they left I reclined on my recliner, chugging down a few brews and thinking things out, or maybe trying not to think things out. Uncle Vinnie’s advice to skip town didn’t look half bad. I had always wanted to see South America. I heard that the chicks on the beaches down there are practically naked and so hot and eager that you got to damn near tie them down to get at them.
Elaine came from the kitchen and joined me on the recliner, small and soft and warm. She was a real dish too. For now. Would she double her weight and look like Ma after we were married with kids, I wondered? Married? Wedding? Wedding ring? Kids? Talking damn cat? The Falconie mob? In-law MOMs? Uncle Vinnie the bone-crusher? What the fuck had I got myself into? Even trolls and elves were starting to look pretty damn good. I chugged down another brew.
“That visit by my folks went pretty good, I thought,” she said.
“Sure, Baby,” I said. “It was swell.”
“You thinking about the case?”
“Sure, the case; flying shit and a troll client that needs a shrink. Quite a case, ain’t it?”
“What flying shit and what troll client?”
I told her about my visit to Henry Jenkins and Mick’s visit to our office to ask for our services. It had been a damn busy day.
“We work for the troll now? Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?” she asked. “What about Margie?”
“She’s still our client too. Fifty bucks a day is fifty bucks a day.”
“What kind of powers was that Mick character talking about that he gave you?”
“I don’t know. I can make shit disappear, I guess. Say, that could have come in really handy in our previous case.” I noticed that I had said ‘OUR previous case’ like we actually were partners, but I let it pass.
“That case never really finished,” she claimed.
“Sure it did, we got Grisim’s check, and the check cleared. Case closed, end of story.”
“But Joe never even got Grog and Mick to the jailhouse,” she countered. “They claimed they weren’t behind shrinking you and Grisim so small, and Fey and Tweed claim that they weren’t either.”
“What did you expect them to do? Dance into jail singing a confession?”
“No, but nobody knows for sure what happened, and now this Mick character has got us helping him. It looks like the shrinking nut case is still open.”
“I don’t take cases to figure out everything that happened; I take them to get a payoff. We got the big payoff check from Grisim; that’s good enough for me. The shrinking nuts case is history, as far as I’m concerned. This troll case is a completely new nutty case, without actual nuts or dried legumes this time. Life gets too complicated otherwise.”
“I’d like to talk to him.”
“Talk to who?”
“The troll. You could find him with your magic powers.”
“Hell’s balls Baby, there ain’t no such things as trolls and I don’t have no magic powers. That guy is just a big, ugly, loony-bin foreign chemist with sneaky geek tricks up his sleeves. I’ll come up with something to make it look like we laid down some leather to help him, but I don’t even know what the hell he was talking about when he tried to explain what he wanted. Maybe he’ll take my advice and find himself a shrink. But whatever else he is, he’s dangerous, so both of us should stay the hell away from him. Anyway, he’s clear across town.”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“That he’s across town.”
I drew a blank. “I don’t know. It’s just a hunch I have, I guess. He’s hiding in a small dark place, I figure, though I don’t know how the hell he fits into anything so small.”
“Is it your troll curse powers telling you that?”
“Powers? No, Baby, I get hunches all the time, usually wrong ones. Anyway, in the morning, maybe we’ll interview some of the bank folks and see what we can turn up.”
“Speaking of folks, what did you think of mine?”
“They're swell.”
“No, really.”
I tried to think of something good to say about them. It wasn’t easy. MOMs don't have a lot of good stuff about them to talk about. “Well, they’re up-front, so you know how things stand with them. I like that in people.”
“You didn’t feel intimidated?”
“Gee-wiz no, why would I feel intimidated?”
“You didn’t like them.”
“Hey, I just met them, but what’s not to like?”
“Give it time, Jake. They’re really great people when you get to know them.”
“Sure, Baby. Hey, maybe we could all go out drinking or bowling together sometime or something.”
“They won’t drink enough to change any opinions they have of you. They don’t like to get too drunk; they don’t ever like to leave their guard down.”
“Speaking of guards, who were those guys trailing behind them?”
“Just some of their associates. My folks are never alone. That’s what drove me away. Somebody in a dark suit and wearing a shoulder holster was there with me everywhere I went, for as long as I can remember. I needed to get away. When I went off to college, I finally laid down the law with them. I changed my name and started living my own life.”
Poor little rich girl; I almost felt sorry for her. “What did they think of that?”
“They didn’t like it, but they actually respected me more for it, I think.”
Our pointless conversation was interrupted by my falling asleep.
I woke up to heavy pounding on the apartment door. I was alone on the recliner; Elaine must have gone to bed, and the damn cat was nowhere to be seen. Glancing at my watch I noticed it was six-AM, too damn early for callers. It was still the middle of the night, in terms of sleeping. There was dim light coming through a window though, so even this early it was starting to get light-out from the sun already. Who’d have figured that?
The pounding continued as I stumbled to the door. When I peeped through the peephole I saw that it was only Joe Kebony. He looked sort of dazed. I checked my watch again, because it was way too early to be seeing Joe, but it was still six-AM.
His face was blank, even more blank than usual I mean, and his gaze was unfocused as if he was sleepwalking or something. I figured it for sugar shock. Too damn many jelly doughnuts again, probably, or not enough of them, had screwed up his night, and now he was extending the favor to me, the big dumb bastard.
When I opened up the door I saw that Joe wasn’t alone. Loranda the elf woman and a new little friend were with him. “What the hell is that thing, Joe?” I asked. Laughing, I elbowed the big lug in the ribs and pointed at the little dude standing next to the elf woman. He was three feet tall but thick of build and wide of shoulder, and had an ugly little face. The little dude’s squat ugly appearance reminded me a little bit of our troll friend Mick. The rest of him was covered by trench coat and a nifty black fedora, except for big hairy bare feet. He looked like one tough little bastard though.
“This is Loranda’s head dwarf,” explained Joe. He said it straight, like it wasn’t even funny.
“Oh sure,” I said, as I reached down to shake the short dude's hand. He was wearing a police badge, I noticed. This had to be a gag. “A dwarf? I should have figured. Which one are you? Dopey?”
The carnival freak shook my hand with one surprisingly large, hairy, clutching paw, while with the other he handcuffed me so quickly that I didn’t even see it coming. “My name be Quin, flat worlder,” said the little dude with a shrill, munchkin-like voice.
“What the hell!” I exclaimed, staring at my two handcuffed hands in disbelief. The little nitwit had cuffed my hands together in front of me, instead of behind me, but it was still quite a trick.
Joe looked at Loranda and then back at me with a confused look on his face for just a moment, then it went blank again. “Jake Simon,” he said, “you were seen at Henry Jenkins’ house yesterday, and your
fingerprints have been found at the scene.” He said it like he was reading it, though I knew the dope don’t read very much.
“At the scene? The scene of what? Piles of shit? Is Henry blaming his shit problem on me? What gives with the charm bracelets?”
“The murder scene,” said Joe. “We’re arresting you for murder.”
“Murder?” I said, my jaw dropping. “Henry’s been murdered?”
“Move it, human,” squawked Dopey, as he yanked on the cuffs. I didn’t budge an inch. His hairy eyebrows rose. “You are right, Loranda. This one is warded somehow. He does not obey me.”
“Wards or no, you would do well to cooperate, Mr. Simon,” said the sharp toothed, silver haired elf broad.
“I’ll do what Joe says,” I replied, looking at my old partner.
Joe looked at me with blank uncaring eyes. “Jake Simon, we are taking you in for murder. Move!”
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll have you out in a jiffy,” said Elaine from the door, as Dopey and Joe led me away, pulling me along by the handcuffs like I was a damn criminal.
Kebony mutely stared right through me as Dopey shoved me into the back of a black and white, then my old partner walked away stiffly towards his own unmarked car. I found myself sitting next to a second little dwarf, this one old and wrinkled. I decided to call this one Doc. Dopey slid in too, so that I was sandwiched between the two of them, while Loranda got up front behind the wheel and started driving, following Kebony’s unmarked sedan towards the Precinct station. So then, elves can drive, I observed. I wondered why the boss lady would be doing the driving, but then realized that the dwarves were too damn short to reach the pedals. Same problem I had, just a week ago.
“He stinks of troll,” complained Doc, with bad breath that could have knocked out a lesser man than me. Then he began wailing some sort of weird mumbo-jumbo, as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a little leather pouch and dumped something into one hand. “WILLLLEOWARDWERIEM!” he shouted, as he threw a fine grey powder over my head. “WEELO, WEELO, WEELO, WOOOOOOOOO.”
“Hey, watch it pal,” I complained. “I took a shower just a few days ago.”
“It affects him not,” said Doc. “The spell on him is indeed very strong. It must be the troll’s doing. To sustain this strong a spell, he must have passed to the human much of his own powers.”
“What must be it,” agreed Dopey, spitting into my face as he talked. “And he would only do that for one reason. Be you a troll lover, human?”
“What’s it to you, Shorty?” I replied. “It’s a free country. Maybe I happen to think that trolls are kind of cute.”
“The troll is a wanted fugitive,” said Loranda, from the front seat. “Tell us where he is.”
“Now which troll is that?”
“Don’t play dumb, human,” Loranda hissed.
“Mickahl Al Calger, fool!” Dopey snarled. “Tell us where he is! You must have been given troll finding powers; use them!”
“I ain’t playing dumb; I really don’t know where the hell he is, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did know.”
“He was at your office yesterday,” said Dopey. “We tracked him there. We smelled his stench there. What did he tell you?”
“Not a damn thing that I could understand, and not a damn thing that I’d tell you creeps.”
Dopey slugged me in the guts. It hurt plenty; he had a pretty damn good right for such a tiny little dude.
“I still don’t know nothing.”
“What did Harry tell you about the troll? Did he give you anything?” Loranda asked.
“Not a damn thing,” I said.
Dopey slugged me again. I had the impulse to clobber him, using my handcuffed hands, but judging from the badge he was actually some sort of cop, so I just counted to ten silently instead, cussing to myself.
“The troll is an enemy of your people, flat worlder,” said Doc. “If you help us capture him you will be helping human-kind.”
“You’re breaking my heart, wart face.”
Dopey hit me again.
“Give up the troll, human,” said Loranda.
“I don’t believe in trolls, doll, and I believe even less in you.”
“Your time is running out, human,” she said. “If you are not for us, you are against us, and you are an enemy of human-kind as well.”
The car was at last pulling into the station. Kebony pulled me out of the car and man-handled me up the steps, while Loranda and her creep squad trailed behind. I breathed a sigh of relief with my aching ribs. In the station I’d hopefully be surrounded by my old Precinct pals and out of the hands of these freaky little bastards. Also, I was relieved to realize that my fedora was safe at home and not in the clutches of these bozos.
Inside, I got a nasty surprise. An ugly old dwarf manned the front desk and it wasn’t Sergeant Kalhoony, and behind him, in the pits where the detectives usually live, a couple of dozen male dwarves and several elves, both male and female, were sitting at most of the desks, talking on phones, snoozing, munching on doughnuts, and milling around the water cooler like they were real cops. The male elves were small and slim like the females, and had the same smooth white skin, huge, slanted, bulging silver eyes and tell-tale pointy ears and teeth. Thin ugly little sons-a-bitches, every last one of them.
The elves and dwarves all wore cop badges, I noticed, which hit me in the guts worse than Dopey had. There were still a few human cops, but they sat around with blank zombie faces like they were zonked out on downers or had run out of Twinkies. Strangest of all, there were no perps. This time of morning the place should have still been overflowing with last-night’s assortment of dolled-up hookers, plus a scattering of colorful pimps and gangs of kick-ass street-toughs. The squad house was overflowing with weird creeps all right, but not human weird creeps.
“What gives, Joe?” I asked; but Joe was as glassy eyed as the rest of them as he strode through the office behind Loranda, while Dopey shoved me through the fucking twilight zone behind them!
The silent Kebony and the weirdly grinning Loranda led me to the office of Lieutenant Ed Marks. A male elf sat next to Marks like they were sharing the desk. Marks was signing papers that the elf held in front of him, one after the other, without even reading them. Marks looked up and stared through Kebony and me like he didn’t even know who the hell we were.
“This is the killer of Henry Jenkins,” said Loranda. “He admits that he and the troll did it.”
I felt like I had just been slapped across the face. “The hell I do,” I said, steaming. “You’re a damn liar.” I tried to lunge at her but Kebony held me firm on one side, and Dopey held me on the other.
Hate flashed across the lieutenant’s passive face and he shot up from his seat, suddenly alive, to reach out and grab me by the collar and pull my face within inches of his. “You can’t say things like that about the Princess!”
Princess? What the hell?
“He’s a troll lover. He’s a traitor to you and to man-kind,” stated Loranda, with that inhumanly toothy grin on her face.
“A traitor,” repeated Marks, pushing his face into mine. “A dirty, rotten, stinking traitor.” But his voice trailed off and his eyes started to clear.
“Hey,” I objected. “I took a shower lately and I ain’t no traitor to nobody.”
Marks' face continued to shift towards normal, or at least normal for Marks. “Jake Simon?” Marks questioned more calmly as he looked at me with growing recognition. “What’s going on here?”
“He should be questioned about where the troll is,” suggested Loranda, who reached in to pull Marks and me apart.
Marks shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
I understood. Whatever drugs he was under were wearing off.
Loranda pulled a leather pouch from her belt quickly reached into it and threw a pinch of the silver-gray powder over Marks. “You remember now, Ed, don’t you? We are working together, you and I, to save the ci
ty from the trolls. This man Simon is a murderer and is helping the trolls. He has to be arrested and questioned about his troll friend. He’s a murderer and a traitor.” Her voice was sweet, too sweet, so sweet that it was somehow rotten, like fruit that was too far gone.
“A murderer and a traitor,” repeated Marks, nodding in agreement, his eyes wild again. “He has to be arrested and questioned about the troll.” He was re-drugged and back under the elf bitch’s control again.
I made a mental note to get me some of that elf powder. It must have a million great uses. “Don’t listen to her,” I protested. “You know me, Marks; you hate my ass but you know that for the most part I’m on the up-and-up. Hell, you and my Pop were buddies. This skinny broad is drugging you and playing you for a sap.”
Marks, screaming with sudden rage, hauled off and punched me in the jaw, and with a flash of pain I went down, my head spinning into silent darkness.
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