Джон Коннолли - The Dirty South

Parker waited for the two men to head into the motel lobby before taking a stroll past the car. The seats were empty and clean, but the rental agreement on the dashboard bore the name Charles Shire, and the corporate discount came from Torviva Industries, S.A. From Griffin, Parker knew that Torviva, registered in Switzerland, was the parent company of Kovas Industries. He wondered whether the visit was bad timing, or if all of the Cades’ efforts had been for naught and Kovas had sent Shire, its fixer, to find out exactly what was happening in Cargill.

44

A similar question regarding events in Cargill, although less politely expressed, had just been posed in Randall Butcher’s office. Unfortunately, Tilon Ward didn’t have an answer, or none that Butcher wanted to hear.

‘Another killing,’ said Tilon. ‘That’s what the fuck has happened.’

‘Are you trying to be funny?’

‘No, Randall,’ said Tilon, and he wasn’t. The fact that he was in Butcher’s office, with Pruitt Dix hovering in the background, was an indication that the situation was about as far from funny as one could get without blood and weeping. Only under exceptional circumstances did Tilon Ward find himself in these surroundings, Randall Butcher, as has already been established, being minded to maintain degrees of separation between his legal and illegal activities.

‘Why didn’t you tell me it was you that found the body when we spoke earlier?’ said Butcher.

‘I was in shock.’

‘You never seen a dead body before?’

‘Not a young girl’s naked body, and not one impaled with sticks.’

‘Is that all?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Tilon heard movement behind him and sensed that Dix had drawn nearer. He didn’t turn to look, though. He didn’t want to see Dix’s eyes, or have Dix stare into his.

‘I think you do,’ said Butcher softly, ‘and if I were you, I’d be very careful how I answer the next question, because I’m already unhappy about having to ask it again: Were you sleeping with her?’

Tilon wasn’t careful.

‘Who?’ he said, and a second later Pruitt Dix sliced at Tilon’s right ear with a pocket blade, neatly splitting the lobe. The injury instantly began to bleed heavily, soaking Tilon’s shirt and jeans, and releasing droplets to explode on Butcher’s wood floor. Tilon screamed in pain and cupped his right hand to the wound, the blood dripping through his fingers.

‘The next time,’ said Butcher, ‘I’ll let Pruitt take the whole ear. Now, were you or were you not fucking Donna Lee Kernigan?’

How did he know ? Tilon wondered. We’d been so careful .

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I was fucking her.’

Butcher smiled at Dix, still hovering over Tilon. ‘See, I told you so,’ he said. ‘He has his old man’s taste for tender meat.’

He returned his attention to Tilon.

‘Pruitt here was sure you were sleeping with the mother, but I informed him he was mistaken. The apple don’t fall far from the tree, and your daddy always did have a problem counting the years when it came to women.’

Butcher dug a cloth napkin from a container in the corner of the office, where he kept the better tableware for the club’s VIP area, and handed it to Tilon, who pressed it against his ear.

‘Did you kill her, Tilon? Was it you that left her out there with a stick at each end?’

Tilon stared at the floor.

‘No, I didn’t kill her.’

‘You sure?’

‘I cared about her.’

‘Yeah, you’re a regular romantic, sleeping with girls young enough to be your daughter. Do the police know?’

‘No.’

‘They will, soon enough. If I could figure it out – and I don’t even live in your godforsaken town – then others will too, and that little girl probably talked to her friends about you.’

‘She didn’t. I told her not to.’

‘And you think she listened to you? She was a teenage girl. If she could keep anything to herself, she wasn’t human. What about the mother? Did she know about you and her child?’

Tilon didn’t reply.

‘Jesus, Tilon. Was that why you was asking after Sallie Kernigan at the Rhine Heart, so you could make sure she kept her mouth closed?’

Tilon nodded. He’d have serious words with Denny Rhinehart once all this was done. If a man couldn’t trust his bartender, whom could he trust?

‘What did you give Sallie: some freebies, a discount?’

‘Both.’

He decided not to mention the gun. It would only enrage Butcher still further.

‘You told Pruitt you were cultivating her as a dealer.’

‘That, too.’

‘Bullshit, or near as. And in return for your largesse, she let you sleep with her daughter? That’s some good parenting right there.’

Butcher sat against his desk. The beat of the music was barely audible from the club next door. He’d largely ceased to notice the noise, but when he did, he found it annoying.

‘When did you last see the girl?’ Butcher asked.

‘Early Saturday morning. I took her to my place Friday night. My momma was visiting her sister in Dumas. She has cancer.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Still, to every cloud. So Donna Lee stayed over?’

‘Yes.’

‘And then you drove her home next day?’

‘No, I dropped her off on Vervain.’

A number of the roads in Cargill were named after Arkansas wildflowers: Vervain Street, Indian Paintbrush Lane, Goldenrod Way. It made them sound prettier than they were.

‘Not many houses around there. You really didn’t want to be seen with her, did you, Tilon?’

‘No, but it was close enough for her to be able to walk home. You the police now, Randall?’

‘You want Pruitt to even up your earlobes?’

‘No.’

‘Then shut up and answer my questions. What time was that?’

‘Before seven, maybe. It was still dark.’

‘You check to make sure she got back okay? You call or anything?’

‘No.’

‘Doesn’t say much for your solicitude. You might have cared about her, but you didn’t care enough. You figure she’s dead because you didn’t drive her to her front door?’

Tilon didn’t reply.

‘Answer me, goddamn you.’

‘Yes,’ said Tilon softly.

Butcher eased himself from his perch and squatted before Tilon.

‘You know, Tilon, I was seriously considering having Pruitt take you into the Ouachita and let you dig your own grave, all the trouble you risk bringing down on us because you share your daddy’s appetites, but it would likely have caused more problems than it solved. Also, right now you cook the best meth in the state, and I’m in need of the cash flow generated by your expertise.

‘But Jurel Cade has a hard-on for you, and old Pappy might see a way of using you to get at me, because that old bastard could hear a coonfart in a thunderstorm, and nothing in Burdon County stays hidden from him for long. All things considered, it might be better if you were to disappear for a while. I have a place you can stay before you head back into the woods and get to cooking.’

‘Won’t that make the police suspicious?’

‘You got an alibi for the rest of the weekend?’

‘Mostly I was home. I sat up late Saturday with my momma watching movies on cable. She has trouble sleeping.’

‘Police know this?’

‘I believe I told them so, or near enough.’

‘There you are. You got nothing to worry about.’

Tilon wasn’t certain of that. He slept in quarters away from the main house, so it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to slip out without his mother noticing, apart from the noise of his truck. He therefore remained vulnerable to suspicion.

Butcher began moving papers around on his desk. The conversation was clearly drawing to a close.