Fred Limberg - First Murder

Darcy DuPree’s house was almost a half-mile off the tar road, an old farmstead surrounded by remnant towering elms. A caved-in barn and a rusted machine shed lay in ruins nearby. Tony pointed out three separate satellite dishes mounted on the gambrel roof. They waited in the car for a minute to see if any dogs patrolled the dismal brown yard.

DuPree didn’t answer the door right away despite Tony’s insistent knocking. A mean October wind raced over the harvested cornfields unchecked and found every gap in their clothing, used it to chill and irritate the four of them. Tony was using his fist like a hammer, making enough racket to rouse a dead man when DuPree finally opened the door.

“Yes?” Dupree was a tall man, easily six and a half feet tall, with flowing silver hair combed back and tamed with shiny oil that gave it a ropy texture. He wore rectangular black framed glasses. The lenses were so thick they made his eyes look grotesquely large. He had a thin build and was dressed in a blue satin jacket, sporting a colorful ascot. He would have been a handsome, older man except for the cartoonish eyes. Dupree answered the door as if he hadn’t been expecting them.

“Mr. Dupree?” Tony had his gold badge out and ready. Carol put a hand on his arm, keeping it down and out of sight.

“Hello Darcy,” Carol said, a forced insincere smile stuck on her face.

“Miss Carol.” Dupree had a squeaky whiny voice that didn’t match his patrician looks and a pronounced southern accent. He extended a slender, pinkish, long-fingered hand. Tony noticed Carol kept her gloves on when she allowed Dupree to take it. He also noticed that the tall man’s gaze never left Carol’s breasts. She was wearing a turtleneck under a bulky sweater but Dupree was staring as if she were naked.

“This is Detective de Luca, Sergeant Bankston, and our senior evidence technician, Mr. Kumpula.” She was brusque and businesslike with the introductions. “You spoke with Mr. Kumpula.”

“Please, please come in.” Dupree held the door wide and gestured. Carol shifted to Tony’s side, away from DuPree, and hugged his arm close when they passed him.

The living room was nothing short of elegant, a complete and shocking contrast to the dilapidated, decaying exterior of the old farmhouse. There were carved tables and fringed lampshades, red velvet covered chairs and a long upholstered sofa with dark wood lion’s heads on the arms. A small fire crackled behind a gleaming brass screen.

“Please, sit.” He made another sweeping gesture with his arm. “May I offer some refreshment?” Dupree was acting the perfect southern gentleman but looking only at Carol’s chest and backside, as if he were appraising a painting or piece of sculpture. Ray picked up on his staring. His face was set in a frown, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. He projected an anger and displeasure he did not want Darcy DuPree to miss.

“Nice place.” Kumpula had a Stan Laurel smile working. Ray knew it was masking Jonny’s cataloging, that the evidence tech was taking everything in and filing it. He was paying particular attention to a room visible down the hall while DuPree was leering at Carol. A half open door revealed banks of computer equipment. Tiny yellowish lights blinked randomly on the stacked servers.

“Thanks, but we’re good.” Tony looked from Carol to Ray and back to Dupree. “We’re good.”

“Very well then, on to business I suppose.” Dupree settled deeply into a plush plum colored chair and stuck a cigarette into an ivory holder. Tony and Ray sat across from him, tense, on the edge of the sofa. Carol remained standing, arms crossed over her chest.

“I believe I have something you want and you, sir,” he turned to Kumpula, “have something I have long sought.”

Carol desperately wanted to know what Kumpula was bartering with the old pervert but Jonny, still hiding behind his idiot grin, wasn’t letting on.

“You realize the quality isn’t so good. It was originally on 16 millimeter film and not professionally done.” He took a CD case from his side pocket. DuPree’s cartoon eyes got even larger and the pink tip of his tongue was visible at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh yes. Oh yes. May I ask how you came to have a copy?” Dupree snubbed out the cigarette and leaned forward.

“That’s not important.”

“But I must be sure…”

Kumpula stood and interrupted Dupree. He waved the CD case toward the hallway and the room full of computers and said, “Let’s take a peek. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” Kumpula’s smile faltered when DuPree giggled.

“Oh I like that.” DuPree stood, wringing his hands together. “I’ll show you mine.” He giggled again and led Kumpula down the hallway. Jonny looked back once, and he wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked a little bit scared.

“This is just creepy,” Tony said to Carol once Dupree and Kumpula were out of earshot.

“Why do you think I brought all of you guys along?” She laughed nervously and took out a cigarette.

“I wonder what Kumpula has to trade? He’s not into this stuff is he?” Tony directed the question more to Ray, who had known him longer.

“Kump comes across all kinds of things,” was all the answer he gave. They heard Darcy DuPree’s high pitched giggle from behind the door at the end of the hall.

“Why isn’t this guy in jail?” Tony walked over and peered around the corner of another doorway into a kitchen that could have been featured in a 1950’s era magazine.

“It’s not like we haven’t tried.” Carol shrugged. “At least he’s out here in the sticks where he can’t do much harm.”

“Why out here?” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets. He really didn’t want to touch anything. The kitchen table was covered in slick glossy porn magazines.

“This is the old family place.”

“Huh? The guy sounds like he’s straight off of Bourbon Street.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. “Nope, born and raised right here. We have quite a file on him.”

Another giggle echoed down the hallway. Ray was staring out the front window, across the desolate yard and the beaten down cornfield that stretched almost to the horizon. Tony joined him by the window.

“And we’re here why, exactly?”

“We don’t know exactly. Carol has a hunch there’s a further connection between Stuckey and the ‘Go Girls’. She’s real curious about the ‘bonus tracks’, whatever that might mean. So am I.”

“You think there’s a link?”

Ray turned his head slowly from the window and nodded. “I think it’s possible.”

They both turned when they heard the door from the computer room crash open. Kumpula was striding purposefully down the hallway. He had a CD case in one hand.

He headed directly for the front door, not pausing or breaking stride. He grabbed the knob and said loudly over his shoulder, “Let’s go kids, now!”

Carol hurried behind him and didn’t look back. Ray followed. Tony glanced down the hall.

The door was wide open. Tony caught a brief glimpse of Darcy DuPree, both hands fumbling with the front of his pants, his attention wholly on whatever image was flickering on an unseen monitor. He was laughing in his high irritating whiny voice, looking off across the room.

As soon as Tony hit the seat Carol dropped the car into gear and flung gravel and dust as she tore out of the farmyard toward the road.

Tony looked over at Kumpula. “What happened?”

“That is a sick, sick man.” Tony saw Carol’s eyes in the rearview mirror, the deep furrows on her brow.

“Stop the car!” Kumpula commanded.

Carol braked hard, throwing them all forward. Jonny got out of the backseat and pulled an oversized semi-automatic from beneath his jacket. He leaned on the car’s roof and sighted on the power line where it was connected to a tall pole by the side of the driveway. It only took three shots for the power line to drop, sparking and arcing into the ditch. Two more shots separated the phone line. Kumpula holstered the gun and got back in the car.