Regina’s Song

“Burpee?” James asked mildly.

Bob smiled faintly. “We don’t call him that to his face. His real name’s Belcher.”

“It does kind of fit, I guess,” James agreed.

“Who’s this Cheetah?” I asked.

“A downtown drug lord. He’s a mixed breed psychotic—part black, part Mexican, part oriental, part rabid bird dog. That’s one guy we’d really like to get off the streets. He swings big-time drug deals and amuses himself with random murders. We haven’t been able to pin him down because he hasn’t got a fixed address. He never sleeps in the same bed twice, and he’s got two or three hundred aliases. Muñoz had a rap sheet as long as your arm, but Cheetah’s never been busted, so we don’t even know what his real name is. We’ve got a rough description of him, and that’s about all. I sort of hate to admit it, but old Burpee might be right this time. Cheetah tends to be exotic, and the cutting last night was at least exotic. I’ve seen a few guys that were fairly well cut up, but whoever went after Julio scattered pieces of him all over the grass down by the lake. There’s no way an undertaker’s going to be able to put him back together again, so we’re probably looking at one of those closed casket funerals.”

“You saw the body, then?” Charlie asked his brother.

“I sure did. I got to the scene right after the uniforms did. That one’s going to give the coroner a real headache. Whoever took Muñoz out didn’t stab him the way most knife killers do. It was a carving, not a stabbing, and I’d guess that it took Muñoz a long time to die. It wasn’t for money, that’s certain. His wallet was still in his back pocket, and it was loaded.”

“It was strictly a drug business thing, then?” James asked.

“That’s our current thinking. Most of Julio’s arrests were drug-related. He’s been busted for that a half dozen times. He’s been a suspect in several shootings and a couple of rapes, but we could never pin him to the mat on those. We haven’t nailed him on a dope deal for over a year now, though. Evidently, he graduated from street dealing and moved up to being a supplier. There’s more money in that, I guess, but last night it looks like he came up against one of the occupational hazards of going big-time.”

“The rubout?” Charlie guessed.

“The slice-out in this case. I don’t think there was much rubbing involved. Whoever took him out might have had some experience as a meat cutter, since it sort of looked like he was trying to bone out the carcass even after Muñoz died.”

“Homicidal maniac stuff?” Charlie asked.

“Pretty much. It looked to me as if the cutter was pretty well worked up. We’ll probably have to wait for the autopsy to find out what kind of knife was involved. There didn’t seem to be any stab wounds. It was all slices. What’s surprising about it is that nobody in the vicinity heard anything. I’m sure it took Muñoz a long time to die, and nobody I’ve talked to heard any screaming. The only thing anybody heard was a dog howling.”

“Then you don’t think anybody on campus had any kind of connection with the killing?” Charlie asked him.

“Probably not. It’s more likely that Muñoz was doing a drug deal down by the lake, and the opposition—whoever it was—caught up with him there. I don’t think you’re going to need a police escort to take you to and from class, Charlie, if that’s what’s got you so worried.”

“Up yours,” Charlie told him.

“Always nice talking with you, little brother,” Bob said with a faint smile. Then he glanced at his watch. “Oops,” he said. “Running late.” He stood up.

“Say hi to Eleanor and the kids for me,” Charlie said.

“Right. Stop by once in a while, huh?”

“I’ll make a point of it,” Charlie promised.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_6f41a914-f362-5572-8d7c-259525474d2f)

Ivolunteered to drive Twink to Lake Stevens on Friday of that week, since I was free. All my scurrying around to get settled in for fall quarter might have been too efficient. Everything was in place, and I didn’t really have anything important left up in the air.

Oddly enough, Friday was all bright and sunny, and I didn’t even have to turn on my windshield wipers as Twink and I went north on Interstate 5.

Dr. Fallon spent the customary hour with Twink, and he seemed to be fairly satisfied with her progress. At least he didn’t put her in a padded cell.

After the session, Twink and I went back to Everett for dinner with Les and Inga. It seemed to me that those weekly visits might not be a bad idea, and since Twink had to go north every Friday anyway, it fit together smoothly.

The following week really dragged on. I was ready to start classes, but the university wasn’t quite up to it yet. I did a lot of puttering around with my bookshelf project and hit the library several times, but I didn’t accomplish much.

The fall quarter began on Monday, September 29th, and I finally had to come face-to-face with John Milton. You don’t walk into the Ph.D. exams in English unless you’ve got graduate seminars in Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Milton under your belt. Shakespeare and I get along fairly well, and Chaucer’s a good buddy, but Milton seems a little silly to me. “How soon hath time, the subtle thief of youth, stol’n away my three and twentieth year,” seems ridiculous coming from a guy who didn’t shave regularly yet. Besides, Milton was wall-to-wall puritan, and puritans set my teeth on edge.

The Milton seminar was one of those early-morning things—seven-thirty to nine-thirty—and the first session was largely taken up with bookkeeping. Full professors generally prefer to ease themselves into harness. After class I drove back to Wallingford to have a word with Twink.

I didn’t want to wake Mary, so I went around to the back door and tapped on the window. Renata opened the door, touching one finger to her lips. “She’s still asleep, Markie,” she whispered.

“No kidding? Gee, the day’s half-over.”

“Quit trying to be funny. Do you want some coffee?”

“Thanks, Twink, but I’ve had four cups of Erika’s already, and that’ll probably keep me wired until about midnight.”

“Is her coffee that strong?”

“Industrial-strength. I just came by to tell you that I’ll pick you up about twelve-thirty. Our class starts at one-thirty, and that’ll give us plenty of time to get there.”

“You don’t have to do that, Markie. I’ve got my bike.”

“Yes, Twink, I know all about the bike. This is the first day of class, though, and I want to show you exactly where Padelford Hall’s located, where my office is, and how to find the classroom. After you’ve got the lay of the land, you can pedal around in the rain all you want.”

“Oh, all right.” She sounded peevish about it.

“What is your problem, Twink?”

“Everybody’s treating me like a baby. I’m a big girl now.”

“Save the declaration of independence, Twinkie-poo. I just want to make sure you’ve got the lay of the land before I turn you loose to roam around campus by yourself.”

“Twinkie-poo?” she said. “Are we going back to baby talk?”

“Just kidding, Twink. I know most of the trees on campus by their first names, so I can save you a lot of time by showing you shortcuts and places where the traffic piles up at certain times of day. Let’s just call this ‘show Twinkie the ropes day.’ I’m not trying to insult you or infringe on your constitutional right to get hopelessly lost down in the hard-science zone. Just humor me today, OK?”

“Yes, Master,” she said with a vapid expression. “Yes, Master.”

“I thought we’d gotten past that stuff, Twink.”

“The old ones are the best, aren’t they? If you want to baby me, I suppose I can put up with it for a day or so. But don’t make a habit of it.”

“Oh,” I said then, “as long as I’m offending you today anyway, let’s get something else off the table. Don’t get too carried away with how you dress. The kids here are pretty laid-back when they go to class. Blue jeans and sweatshirts are just about the uniform of the day—every day. You probably wouldn’t want to wear fancy clothes in the rain anyway, and it’s always raining here in muck and mire city.”

“Aww,” she said in mock disappointment. “I was going to make a fashion statement.”

“Save it for a sunny day, Twink. A lot of freshman girls try that on their first day of class, and they get pretty embarrassed when they find out that they’re overdressed.”

“What books am I going to need?”

“I’ll give you some of mine. I’ve got lots of spares.”