Washington, D.C.
Montgomery Abode
5 mins after break-in
"Ronnie please give the man whatever he wants!" Renee screamed. Fear blotching her once pretty face and ageing lines criss-crossing all over face.
It made her look old.
Ronald hated and resented her for looking so old. Because it made him look old too...there's only so much facelifts and Botox could do.
Ronald stared at the sweat stricken face of the man pointing a Beretta M1923 straight at his temple, aside from the slight quiver of his mouth, which was adorned with a rather ridiculous looking moustache, the man seemed calm. Yet his underarms was soaked in sweat. How a man could display such irony would have amused Ronald on another day. Another day perhaps when he didn't have a Beretta M1923 pointed at his face.
“Look, I have no clue as to what you want, if its money you...”
“Money!!! I don't need your goddamn money!!" The man spat. A foul looking glob smacked on the pristine mahogany floor.
Ronald cringed.
“All you rich folks think you can make everything go away with your money”
“I was merely suggesting....”
BLAM! BLAM!
The resounding sounds of the gunshots in the enclosed room was deafening. Ronald’s wife let out an unearthly scream, but he couldn't hear it. His ears were still ringing. Looking back at his fresco adorned walls he saw two neat holes.
Fury burned through him coursing through his veins, his face turning beet red.
“How dare you!!!”
“Mister, I think it's high time you shut your mouth and
listen to what I have to say”
“Those walls cost a fortune to get them redone and....” Still busy with his tirade he failed to see the man make his move. Moving swiftly with a predefined grace that could only have come about with expert military training the man re-adjusted his aim and squeezed the trigger.
Pain bolted throughout his body, severe and excruciating. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His body stumbled to the ground almost as if his legs could not bear the weight of his body anymore.
Considering the fact that his kneecap had just been blown off by a 9mm Glisenti that thought wasn't that far off the mark.
The man turned to face his wife and pointed the gun at her.
“Are you going to complain about the decor too ma’am” he asked way too politely, gun nozzle shifting downwards to aim at her kneecap.
“No! No...the decor is just...just f...fine” Renee stammered.
“I appreciate the candour ma’am” a forceful grin adorning his lips. Turning to face Ronald he asked
“I ask the questions, you answer the questions. Is that understood?”
“Fuck you!”
“Perhaps Mr Ronald, you need some reorientation” the man said turning his gun to the other knee.
His trigger finger tightened.
“Ok! Ok! I get it. You ask the questions, I’ll answer”
“That's better Ronald" the man’s face turned thoughtful for a moment, his brows furrowing together as if in deep thought.
“I can call you Ronald, can't I?” He asked inquisitively.
“I mean all your friends call you Ronald, don't they?”
“Yes, but you're not my friend dammit!”
The man made a shushing sound as if admonishing a toddler, making his way to where Ronald lay gingerly on the floor cradling his bloody knee and gently tussled his dark thinning hair.
“All that attitude Ronald, but I really want to be your friend. Can't you see?”
“Blowing off my kneecap isn't a very good icebreaker, as a matter of fact it's a shitty one” Ronald fumed.
“Ah...but Ronald I never pegged you for a sensitive one. I'm sorry about your kneecap though”
Ronald stared at him like he had gone crazy.
“I really am sorry, but make another move and I'll blast the other kneecap. With my sincerest apologies”
“You whining piece of shit!, you do not know who you're fucking with!” Ronald seethed.’
The man sprang up with alarming agility, all traces of the nervous character that pointed the pistol to his face had miraculously disappeared. The person in front of him moved with fluid grace, like a season veteran actor in a play who had the audience eating out of the palm of his hands and was reciting his favourite lines.
Given the right circumstances he would have made it in the theatre.
“Ah...but I know all about you Ronald. Allow me to introduce you to you, Ronald Jr. Montgomery born 5th September 1965 in a local hospital in Illinois...what's the name again....” The man trailed off lost in thought at the same time waving the gun around frantically, prancing to and fro in the living room.
“Aha...Edward hospital and health services in southwest suburban Naperville, DuPage County, Illinois. Am I right Ronald?”
Silence.
“You know there's a popular saying especially among you lawyers. It goes like this...silence is golden” the man smiled triumphantly.
“See I'm smart like you, but unlike you I've gat street smarts. The kind you get from the streets and slums. That kind that gets drilled in with bloody fists and broken bottles. You feel me Ronald?”
“Am I supposed to feel guilty you grew up on the other side of the streets?”
“I suppose not”
“Fair enough”
“But that doesn't give you the right to take advantage of the poor and needy”
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me” the man replied calmly
“You damn right I heard you. I've never taken advantage of anyone before, and I feel absolutely inclined to add that I'm an upstanding citizen of this country...”
Ronald had barely finished his tirade when the man rushed at him with startling speed and smashed the butt of his gun onto his nose.
For the second time in one night excruciating pain raced along his nerves.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you, you bastard!”
Renee kept to a corner, eyes blotchy and her skinny frame looked almost withered.
“Please don't hurt him, he's a good man”
The man snorted.
“Mrs Montgomery, you really don't know the man you are married too so I shall not hold you to contempt”
“You're are wrong” she replied.
“Am I? Really Mrs Montgomery am I wrong? How well do you know Ronald, your husband?”
“Very...well...” Renee stammered.
The man swivelled to face Ronald and pointed the gun to his face.
“Remember I said I'll ask questions and you'll answer them”
Ronald nodded.
“Good, cause I'm about to start, and just some random bit of information for your digestion I've got nine rounds left in my sidearm. And trust me I'm enough of a good shot to pump all nine rounds in your body and still leave you alive to answer all my questions. So hence I plead with you Mr. Montgomery not to do anything stupid. I hope you understand”
Ronald nodded again.
The man appeared relaxed and satisfied. Walking over to their ivory mahogany table, the man casually dropped the gun and then proceeded to drop his large frame on their pristine sofa with a grunt.
“I've been standing all night” he quipped to no one in particular.
“My first question, are you a partner at Abe, Hitch & Sons?”
“Yes”
“Thank you for answering that truthfully” the man said, eyes full with intent. Something told Ronald that telling a lie tonight wouldn't be the smartest thing he had done in a while. It would be a dumbest either.
“Do you know Lizzy Whitaker?”
“Never heard of her”
The silence was tangible, thick. It was
practically overwhelming, to the point one felt like he could stretch out his hands and grasp it. The man stared at Ronald. His eyes drifted back to his gun on the table.
Ronald got the message.
“Do you know Lizzy Whitaker?!” The man’s voice dripping with menace.
“No I don't!”
The man looked puzzled. Then immediately puzzlement gave way to anger, the different myriad of emotions playing across the man’s face. Swiftly swiping the gun from the mahogany table he rushed forward and yanked Ronald's shirt, hurling him up, cramming the gun at the base of his skull. His face inches from the Ronald's face. As he spoke he could see droplets of spittle landing on Mr Montgomery’s face.
“You better not fuck with me! You better not!”
Ronald returned his glare with equal measure.
“I don't know anyone by that name”
Confusion gripped the man. Ronald was saying the truth, he knew that. Yet there was no way his source was wrong. Ronald was guilty and he needed to be punished.
A sudden thought struck him.
“What about a Judy Michaels? Do you know anyone by that name, blonde, petite...” He stopped when he saw realisation and understanding dawn in Ronald’s eyes.
“You know her don't you, you son of a bitch!”
“Yes I do. She worked in Abe, Hitch & Sons for a year”
“Worked”
“She quit about a year ago”
“Know any reasons why she would quit Ronald?”
“No”
“I don't believe you”
“I don't care”
The man turned and addressed Renee. His eyes were hard.
“A blonde body was found on the washed up shores in the beach by a junkie. Forensics said she had been dead for weeks, her body was bloated, chunks of her face were missing. Concise details of how that happened is still unknown, but its speculated that her face was eaten by fishes”
Renee’s face was white and aghast, hands trembling which she wrapped around herself.
“That's not all, forensics also found sixty-six identical marks on her body. Wounds really” the man gazed hard at Renee.
“They were stab wounds Mrs Montgomery, Judy Michaels was stabbed sixty six times”
“Why are you...?” Ronald interrupted.
“Shut up!” The man roared.
Silence.
“I was coming to that, Ronald” the man said, pacing the room once again.
He turned once again to face Renee. The fear was still there in her eyes, but somehow with the telling of the grisly details of the murder it had multiplied.
“Are you a good listener Mrs Montgomery?”
“Yes”
“Great, cause I'm about to tell you a story, a story forged in blood, tears, suffering and poverty. A story of two siblings who went against the odds, who defied every low expectation the world placed on them...I promise you Mrs Montgomery, this story is one of a kind”
“Why me?”
“Because it would make you understand better, Mrs Renee. Maybe it would make you able to forgive me for what I have to do, but most important of all, it would make you understand, but first let me introduce myself...My name is Warren Michaels”
The man paused, waiting for the eureka moment. The moment when understanding dawning in her eyes and she flung herself to the ground begging and pleading for her miserable life.
That moment never came.
Well if the prophet doesn't go to the mountain, the mountain goes to the prophet. He would make her see his point and then maybe she'll understand.
“Judy Michaels was my kid sister, and the point of this elaborate scheme-this whole breaking and entering was to come face to face with the man who ordered my sister to be stabbed sixty-six times and ask him what she did, to deserve that kind of punishment. And after he gives me a satisfactory answer I'm going to kill him, and it won't be pleasant. And just for the fun of it I'm going to kill you too Mrs Montgomery”
“Screw you! Lizzy or Judy or whatever the fuck she called herself was a bitch! A common whore! Every single bastard with a four door coupe fucked her! The bitch! She deserved what she got!”
Two things happened simultaneously and quickly. So quickly it would have been missed within a blink of an eye.
Renee Montgomery fainted.
Warren Michaels swivelled.
Pointed his gun at Ronald.
Smiled.
And then he fired.