Джонатан Крейг - Manhunt. Volume 1, Number 12, December, 1953

She’d been strangled and pretty badly mangled. She was naked. I formed a mental picture of what had happened, and the picture fit perfectly with the kind of joint Zach Hobbs ran.

She was also in the back of a truck, and you don’t put someone in a truck unless you plan on taking her someplace.

That figured. If she was one of Zach’s girls and killed on the premises, he’d want to get her far away. Murder would buy the state police, and the state police wouldn’t help his type of business.

The girl was new, if she was the same one Marie had planned on. sending down to me. She’d arrived yesterday, Marie had said. Yet Bunny, the blonde, said they had no redheads. Apparently, Bunny was buddy-bunny with Hobbs. She’d lie for him, of course, and especially if she’d been the blonde who’d accompanied Anne to the bus terminal.

And all at once, it fell into place.

The dead redhead, and Anne’s abduction, and all of it. Every blessed bit of it. I was right back to go again, and back to go was a visit with Zachary Hobbs. Back to go was a few missing teeth unless somebody started talking, and started damned fast.

I kept off the road, working my way through the trees, staying out of sight and hearing until I hit the town. I cut down to the beach then, and I stayed on the sand until I was opposite the motel. I waited, watching the macadam road until there was no one on it. Then I ran across to the dirt road, up past the gravel patch and behind the office into the shower stall.

Light flickered through the knotholes at the back of the stall. I put my eye to one of the holes. Hobbs was behind his desk, busy on the phone. I tried to make out what he was saying, but it was just a mumble from where I stood. The blonde, Bunny, was leaning against the wall staring straight ahead of her, puffing on a cigarette.

I took the monkey wrench out of my waistband and waited until Hobbs put the receiver back into its cradle.

“It’ll be okay,” he said to Bunny.

“Did they get him?”

“No, but they found the truck. It’ll be okay.”

I waited for him to say more. He came out from behind his desk, and he walked to Bunny, taking the cigarette from her hand and grinding it beneath his heel. Without preamble, he thrust his hand into the front of her blouse.

She tried to back away, but she was pinned against the wall.

“Zach,” she said, “for Christ’s sake. Can’t you pick a better time?” He threw his other arm around her waist and said, “I told you it’s going to be okay. Come on, baby. Come on, now.”

I didn’t wait for more. I left the shower stall and stayed in the shadow’s close to the office, working my way around to the front door. I listened outside the door for a second, and then threw it open.

Hobbs had his fat lips planted on the side of Bunny’s neck. He pulled his head back when the door opened, and then he dropped the girl and rushed over to the desk. I was closer, but we got there at about the same time because he’d had a start on me. He threw open the top drawer and reached into it, and I caught one glimpse of blue gunmetal, and then I brought the monkey wrench up and down in a fast blur.

It caught him on the wrist, and he pulled his hand back in pain. I shoved between him and the desk, slamming him back against the wall and reaching into the drawer for the gun. It was a .45 with the look and feel of a well-oiled, cherished weapon. I closed my fingers around it, and then snapped the safety release with my thumb, tucking the monkey wrench back into my waistband at the same time. Bunny stood to one side, her hand to her mouth, not bothering to button her blouse.

“All right, brother,” I said to Hobbs. “Let’s get at it.”

“Let’s get at what? You know the police are after you, Riley? You know what they’ll do to you when they get you?”

“You know there’s a dead girl in the back of your pickup, Hobbs?”

His eyes flicked to Bunny, and then back to me. I could almost hear the gears grinding inside his skull, and I had to hand it to him for quick thinking. “You killed someone, did you?” he said quickly. “That ain’t going to help, Riley. The cops’ll just...”

“Let’s cut the comedy,” I said. “Let’s stick to the goddamn facts.” I hefted the .45. “I learned how to use this bastard in the Army. I haven’t forgotten how.”

“What facts you talking about?” Hobbs asked. “You must be nuts.”

“Fact one: the dead girl in your truck is a redhead. You had a redhead here yesterday, but you haven’t got one now.”

“We never had...”

“Fact two: my wife came up to take a shower early this morning. Later this morning, she got on a New-York-bound bus, accompanied by a blonde I’ll bet was our rabbit friend here.”

“Bunny!” the blonde corrected vehemently.

“Fact three: my wife is a redhead, and she was wearing a dress that didn’t belong to her.”

“What’s all that got to do with...”

“I’ll tell you, Hobbs. I think that dress belonged to the dead redhead in the pickup truck. I think that’s the same dress she wore coming into town, and on a number like her, it must have caused quite a stir. I think you slammed that dress onto my wife because you wanted to make sure everyone saw the dead redhead leaving town. That’s what I think, Hobbs.”

“You’re crazy! You’re...”

“I think you forced my wife to get onto that bus. Rabbit here probably had a gun in her purse. I think you took her off the bus somewhere between here and New York, and I think you’re holding her until you can ditch the redhead’s body someplace far away from here. That’s why she’s in the pickup, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know any redhead. Pickup truck or otherwi...”

“One thing I want to know, Hobbs. Is my wife still alive?”

“I don’t know where your goddamned wife is. I never...”

I swung the .45 up and down, catching Hobbs across the cheek bone, ripping the skin back in a wide, bloody flap.

“Is she alive, you bastard?”

“Go...”

I gave him another whack with the gun before he could complete his sentence. This time I caught him on the mouth, and he fell back against the wall, holding his splintered, bleeding teeth.

He began blubbering, and then he started cursing and swearing.

“Is she alive?” I shouted. “Where is she, you bastard?”

Hobbs lifted his head, and spit at me, and the blood and sputum hit my face an instant before I hit him on his skull with the gun. This time he folded against the wall, and then his knees went out from under him, and he fell face forward on the wooden floor.

I turned and walked toward Bunny.

“All right, sweetheart,” I said. “Your playmate’s out of the running. Now it’s your turn.”

She swallowed hard and looked at the .45 in horror. “You... you wouldn’t... you... wouldn’t...”

“Wouldn’t I though? Did you put my wife on that bus, you bitch?”

She opened her mouth wide as I raised the .45. “Yes, yes! I did! For Christ’s sake...”

“Where is she?”

“A rooming house about forty miles from here. Jesus, Mac...”

“She’s all right? Is she?”

“Yes. Yes, she’s fine. We... we were going to let her go later. We... we just wanted to get rid of the redhead first. We just wanted to make it look like the redhead left town.”

“Who killed the redhead?”

“Not me! Jesus, not me! I didn’t...”

“Zach?”

“Yes. Zach. He... he said he wanted to break her in. He told me to send her to the office. I guess... I guess she didn’t like... I guess she objected to what he... he killed her.”

“And then he had to make it look like she’d left town, so that when her body turned up, he’d be in the clear.”