Jessie Humphries: Killing Ruby Rose

“Blood bags, Ruby.”

“But your arm was ripped open where your tattoo used to be.” His arm was covered now, but the way he was using it showed no signs of serious damage.

“I had to make sure they found my blood on you or the boy. Plus, I’d been meaning to get it removed anyway.” He glowered. “The man I got it with no longer has his, either.”

My dad.

“But they found your body in the fire!”

“They found a body, Ruby. Someone in the coroner’s office owed me one.”

“I don’t understand…Liam…why—?”

“You will.” He motioned for me to keep moving toward the two other men and my mom. “We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?” I asked, obeying his order while fighting for a sense of reality.

“I know you called in a SWAT team,” he said evenly, no longer using the low whisper from the phone call. No wonder I hadn’t recognized his voice. He’d been disguising it.

I turned to see his rage at my disobedience, but the anger wasn’t there. He wasn’t surprised by my decision. He’d known I wouldn’t blindly follow his directions.

“I expected nothing different,” he said, motioning for me to move forward. “But perhaps the good ol’ boys in SWAT will remember to watch out for the more explosive parts of this building.”

Oh no, he’d booby-trapped it. My instincts raged to obliterate this sadistic piece of scum.

I was almost to my mom when he stopped me, and the four of us stood in a misshapen circle around my mom’s chair. She looked so helpless, so afraid.

“I believe some introductions are in order,” he said, moving away from me and standing halfway between me, my mom, a very nervous-looking Violet, and the mystery man. I kept trying to make eye contact with Violet, but he looked terrified.

“As you all know, my name is Detective Martinez, deceased,” he said with a very un-deceased smirk on his face. “To my right is Mr. Viktor Gulav. On the left, Mr. Stanley Violet, the last man standing on Ruby’s little list. Then last, but certainly not least among us, we have District Attorney Jane Rose.” He stepped closer to her and ripped the tape off. A piercing scream echoed off the cement walls around us. I flinched at the terror and rage in her cry.

“Are you done?” he asked squarely.

“What more do you want from me?” she shrieked. “I’ve already given you all of Jack’s life insurance money. You said if I gave it to you you’d—”

“That I’d leave you alone?” He walked several feet away, stopping under the shadow of an overhang. Without the flickering flame inside the open incinerator grate next to him, I wouldn’t have been able to see his evil grin. “Come on, Jane. You know me better than that by now.”

“Then what do you want?” she yelled.

“Let’s start with the truth.”

My mom’s eyes pivoted to me. She obviously knew what he was talking about.

“What truth?” I asked her. “What truth?” I asked him.

He never took his eyes off her, like he was waiting for her to answer first.

“OK, fine, I’ll start with some truth,” he said, unfolding his arms, gun still in hand. “You both already know Mr. Violet here. But you may not remember Mr. Viktor Gulav. Let me refresh your memory. Mr. G here is a skilled thief, arsonist, and international sex-trade and drug dealer.”

I looked over to the small man, expecting him to be offended at this description. Instead, he couldn’t have puffed out his bony old chest any farther.

“His services have been quite helpful in my little endeavor. His connections and legwork came in handy when it came time to place the various men in position for Ruby to discover. He was released from prison last year. Took a two-year plea deal, copping to three counts of aggravated assault. Does any of this sound familiar, D. A. Rose?”

My mom closed her eyes. Giving out weak plea deals was an everyday occurrence for her.

“Two years,” he repeated. “Does that sound right for someone you know is responsible for thousands of rapes, hundreds of deaths? Yet you put him back on the street like it was nothing. Justifying your failures with sound bites like, ‘Sometimes justice is constrained by the law.’ All while you and King Jack sat on your thrones, accusing me of corruption.”

Silence.

Meanwhile, Mr. Gulav’s mouth was opening and shutting like a carp’s, like he was searching for the right words to get him out of this situation. Like he was only just now realizing he’d been set up by Martinez. He took his black beanie and put it over his heart. He knew something bad was coming.

“Well, let’s just say that I’m no longer constrained by the law—or by my old friend Jack, who relentlessly accused me of working with the likes of Mr. G and had become dangerously close to proving it.” Martinez raised his weapon in the direction of my mom, Violet, and Gulav.

“No, wait!” Gulav shouted with his hands up. “I thought we had a deal! What about the big payout? What about the shipment?”

“Oh, the shipment will arrive per our agreement,” Martinez said, slowly lacing his hands around the gun, enjoying every second of this production. “You just won’t be there to profit from it. Good-bye and good riddance, Mr. Gulav.”

Two deafening shots blasted, and Gulav went flying backward. Then blood. So much blood. It began gushing out near my mother’s feet.

My mom released another guttural scream. I wished she would stop doing that. It wouldn’t get us out of here alive.

Or, then again, maybe it would. I examined the shadows of the large room and the overhangs of the decks above us. Maybe Sammy was here by now; maybe he’d gotten that murder on camera; maybe SWAT’s sharpshooter could take out Martinez from above.

I couldn’t see any signs of infiltration yet. On top of that, Martinez had positioned himself under the scaffolding. Even if sharpshooters were up there, they’d have no shot on Martinez. Not only was he protected, but I could vaguely see a door behind him.

Martinez was holding the smoking gun casually at his side. He showed no remorse, no shame. He was entirely unaffected by the taking of a human life.

In the space of a few seconds, my mind spun away from me. The adrenaline kicked in, and I couldn’t feel my own body. I was floating above this horror story, numb from the panic filling the room.

I still believed I had a chance to stop the madness. Not just for me, but also for the people I loved. For my good and loving father, for my selfish and manipulative mother, for Liam, for his family. But somehow Martinez had outsmarted me at every turn.

I’d let them all down. I could see where this situation was going. He was going to give Violet a choice: Kill my mom—or be killed.

Which really meant he was giving me a choice: Kill Violet or let him kill my mom, in which case I’d be responsible for another death. Ruby Rose, the serial killer.

I really hoped Violet was wearing the vest I’d given him. A sympathy pang for him caught me by surprise. He was a despicable human being, but still very human. And he was afraid.

“Don’t pretend to feel sorry for this waste of flesh, Ruby.” Martinez’s voice kicked me in the gut. “Remember who he is, what he’s done. What he’s capable of doing again.”

I remembered. Violet’s greatest pleasure was other people’s pain.

So why didn’t Martinez just shoot Violet himself if he thought it was right? Why make me do it? Nothing about this made sense to me.

“Now, before it’s Ruby’s turn to pull the trigger, there’s some more truth to be told,” Martinez said, removing a glove from his right hand and an arm guard off his forearm. Without losing focus, he threw both into the fire pit next to him. Was he trying to dispose of any traces of gunshot residue? He wore another glove underneath the first. The extent of this man’s planning blew my mind. “It’s time to come clean, Jane,” he said, turning to my mom.