There’s No Justice In Killing Part III
By: P.G. Barnett
Tags: Storytelling, Henry And Rebecca, Stories, Fiction, Short Story

My name is Rebecca Wu. And I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.

Part I, Part II

By seven-thirty, we were camped out in a booth at Johnson’s enjoying one of the best artery cloggers in the city. Who knew we both liked our burgers with mustard and mayonnaise?

“Pass me the ketchup, will you?”

“You put ketchup on curly fries?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all. That’s just how I like them.”

For a few moments, we enjoyed several bites of our burgers, dipped our curly fries in mounds of ketchup with our fingers, and washed them down with our carbonated beverages.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s just you don’t seem, well, uh…”

“Korean?”

“Well, I mean, yeah.”

“That’s another thing Sunny told me about you, Henry. You like to fit people in tight little stereotypical boxes. Take me, for example. You probably expected me to suggest a local Asian diner where we could have some fried rice and something tossed in a Wok, right?”

“Uh.”

“And you think I’m some dainty lotus flower who has never gotten her hands dirty.”

“Hang on Becky, I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it in your expression. I can tell by the questions you ask. That’s the point, Henry. You can’t put people on your shelf, dust them off and expect them to behave exactly like you want them to. It just doesn’t work that way.”

“Look, it’s not like I haven’t been around the block a time or two. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people.”

“I hope so for your sake Henry because you’re going to need to bring your A-game to find Dwayne Macy.”

“Right, okay Becky, what do you know about all this, besides what you’ve read?”

“I know her brother was dead before Macy buried him. And I know how he killed him.”

“Whoa, my little Korean princess. Back up. How do you know this? There are only three people on this planet who know.”

“Four. Do you want the rest of those fries?”

“Help yourself. So spill it, Becky. If we’re going to be partners, we need to learn to start sharing our info.”

“You know the coroner at County Medical where they took Dante?”

“Not personally, no. Manny said…”

“Ah, yes. Manny Hermanos, special director of the FBI’s criminal investigative unit in Quantico.”

“Uh, yeah. Go on.”

“Well, it seems as if the coroner at County Medical has a penchant for Asian women with perky little breasts. All it took was a low cut blouse, a few deep breaths and a couple of jiggles and the man gave me everything I needed to know.”

“When?”

“Beg pardon?”

“When did you do all this, and more importantly, why?”

“Sunny called me last week after the board made their decision. She wanted me to have an interview with her and Rick. After I was hired on, and after reading the story and what had happened, I kind of guessed you weren’t going to let this one go. So I paid the coroner a visit.”

“You guessed right. But you’re telling me something I already know.”

After flagging one of the waiters, we waited until he brought us another round of sodas.

“Henry, are you willing to split an apple strudel with ice cream with me?”

“Never had it.”

“Oh, sir. It’s to die for. We’ll have the strudel with two spoons, please.”

After the dessert was delivered we both set about making short work of the sweet apple strudel slightly chilled by three dollops of ice cream. When we finished we leaned against the booth backs and sized each other up, silently wondering how this latest reunion was going to work.

“Good idea Becky. That was pretty good stuff. But I think I’m going to call it a night. Thanks for the dinner and the conversation. How about we keep this between us girls, okay?”

“Henry, sit down.”

“Do what?”

“I said, sit down. You haven’t heard the best part yet.”

“This better be good, Wu.”

“It is. Trust me. Let me ask you something. Do you even bother to read your story after it goes to print?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just that. Do you?”

“No.”

“Of course not. Neither does Sunny. And that’s how you both missed it.”

“Missed what? What the hell are you talking about, Becky?”

“The clue. You and Sunny were both there. He gave you a clue, and you both missed it.”

“I know all about the four clues Dwayne Macy gave us. I was there, remember?”

“I’m not talking about Dwayne. I’m talking about what his father told you and Sunny when you visited him.”

“Dammit, I already told you we knew Becky. His father gave us a second clue.”

“I’m trying to be patient with you Henry, but you’re really starting to frustrate me to no end here.”

“Then tell me what you’re talking about and quit pissing around.”

“The phone call Henry. Charles Macy told you two his son called him about three months before you came to see him.”

“Yes, and?”

“Okay, from what I understand, this guy Dwayne is a ghost. I mean, he just rolled up his magic carpet and disappeared. Not a single trace of him can be found, right?”

“Yeap.”

“What if he made the call to his father on a regular line or a personal cell phone he was using before he canceled the service? What if he didn’t use a burner phone to make the call?”

The reality of the possibility hung in the air, frozen between us, daring the both of us to grasp hold and run with it.

“Damn. So far, this guy has been invisible. Always covering his tracks so well, none of us can find him. What if…”

“He made a mistake?”

“We need to make a little trip, Becky. I need to have a little chat with somebody who can help.”

“You mean Robert, your brother who works for the NSA?”

“How the hell do you know my brother?”

“I was asked to be one of the bridesmaids at the wedding. We’ve all met several times over lunch.”

“How come I wasn’t invited?”

“Uh, because you’re, well, uh, you’re you.”

“Figures. Okay, fine, whatever. Your car or mine?”

“Well, I haven’t had a chance to clean mine lately. I’m sorry, but I’ve got a ton of potato chip bags and junk food wrappers tossed in the back seat. It’s really a mess.”

“Wu, that’s music to my ears. Wait until you get a load of my car. You should feel right at home.”

READ ON — THERE’S NO JUSTICE IN KILLING PART IV

Let’s keep in touch: paul@pgbarnett.com

© P.G. Barnett, 2019. All Rights Reserved.