Warren Murphy: Midnight Man

He put the blond in the same closet where he'd put Arnie and sat waiting for the third orderly. These three were the organizers; the rest of the bettors were just having some macabre fun. They were content to lose if the patients lived. So far as upstairs knew, none of them had anything to do with

"Ever wonder?">Remosaid. Arnie was ¿e fest The gecond had been BiUy

"Wonder what? according to his name tag. That left Jackie. The

"How it feels to get your own plug pulled? The b&

man looked up, and met Remo's eyes. Remo smiled, reached out and unplugged the orderly's windpipe. Remo tossed the body into a coat closet, took the

typewritten sheet from the man's shirt pocket and

16 17

door opened and an orderly came in wearing the name tag of Jackie.

It was a woman.

Remo hadn't suspected that. But "Jackie" could

be male or female. He should have known that upstairs would forget to tell him about a minor point like that.

It didn't bother him. He had killed women before.

"Where's Arnie and Billy?" she asked.

"Dead," he said.

She was too busy looking into his eyes and smiling to hear him. She sat in the chair across from him. "When will they be back?"

She was pretty. Green eyes, auburn hair, good breasts, and a clean-well-washed smell.

"What are you doing with that sheet?" she asked, pointing to the paper in front of Remo.

"Arnie gave it to me," Remo said. "What day do you have?"

"Eighteenth," she said. "Tomorrow. Guess Til have to pull a plug," she said with a smile. "What'd you say happened to Arnie and Billy?"

"Ask them yourself," Remo said. Her eyes widened as he unplugged her windpipe. Her eyes really were a pretty green.

He dumped her into the coat closet with the two men, and stood back to savor his handiwork.

"That's the lottery biz, sweethearts," he said and slammed the door.

He waved to the peppermint striper on his way out, dumped his whites into a laundry bin, waved to the older nurse at the front desk and left the hospital.

The terminal cases could now terminate on their own. It made Remo feel good.

But not for long.

He had other assignments that night.

18

CHAPTER THREE

Elmo Wimpler had been frightened of becoming a burglar but he was more frightened of starving to death, penniless, unknown, friendless.

He had waited until late night, and then had donned his black uniform. He turned out the lights over his front door, then stepped out into his yard.

He looked down at himself. He could barely see the outline of his feet and legs. He understood that he was slightly visible in silhouette because of the lights reflecting around the street. He would have to remember that he was most effective in pitch darkness.

He cut through backyards, behind houses, once passing only inches from a sleeping German shepherd who did not stir as Wimpler walked by. With each step, Elmo felt the power growing in him.

He knew what house he would hit. It was in the Park Slope section only a few blocks from his home. He had often walked by the house, a big brick and stucco English tudor design with a long, black Cadillac parked out front.

Elmo slipped around the back of the house and waited on the darkened porch, trying to calm his nerves and still the thumping of his heart. He might be invisible but his heart was making so much noise he could be heard a block away.

Finally, he tapped lightly on the doorbell and

19

moved off to the side. A few moments later, a young black woman dressed in a maid's uniform came to the door and looked out.

"Who's there?" he could hear her ask through the * master

glass.

He held his breath. Finally, she opened the storm door and stepped out on the porch, holding the door open behind her. He slipped through the door as he heard her mutter, "Damn fool kids."

Inside, he moved quickly into a darkened corner and waited for the maid to come back inside. His heart was racing. Suddenly he was overcome by terror.

What if he was caught?

If the maid turned on a light, he would be as visible as if he had been dressed in neon.

In the future, he would have to plan his jobs Some dream.

more carefully.

But the maid walked by him without turning on a light. She went on and stepped into the living room.

"Who was that, Flo?" a man's voice asked.

Wimpler moved quietly along the hall, as he heard the maid say, "Just some kids, Mr. Mason."

"I hope they didn't wake Mrs. Mason."

As Wimpler reached the door, he peered in from the shadows. The man was getting up from the sofa. He was fortyish, well-fed, and prosperous looking. "I have to go out, Flora," the man said. "Don't wake Mrs. Mason."

"Yes sir. You'll be back soon?"

Mr. Mason put his hands around the maid's rump and pulled her to him. He kissed her heavily on the mouth. "Soon enough," he said. "Soon enough."

Flora giggled as Mason walked toward a coat

rack near the door. Wimpler slipped quickly upstairs. If they had jewels, they would probably be in the

Only one of the upstairs doors was closed. Waiting outside, Wimpler could hear the sound of soft breathing. He opened the door, stepped inside, and saw a figure on the bed. He caught his breath.

Mrs. Mason slept atop the covers, in the nude. She wasn't as full-figured as Phyllis, his next door neighbor, but she would do. She was in her thirties and well-kept, with large breasts and long slim legs.

Wimpler found himself starting to get excited, imagining the things he could do to her while she slept. And if she awoke and saw no one in the room, she would probably think she had been dreaming.

Wimpler almost laughed.

But first things first. With an effort, he turned away from the woman and began searching the room. He found what he was looking for in a top drawer of the dresser. A jewelry box was filled with necklaces and bracelets and rings. He took them all - and put them in a small, cloth bag he had brought with him. Then he secreted the bag under his invisible clothing.

He turned back to the sleeping, nude form of Mrs. Mason.

But fear overcame his lust. It was time to leave. He reached down and playfully stroked one of Mrs. Mason's breasts. She smiled in her sleep. Then he whispered in her ear, "Your husband and your maid are making it, dear."

The smile slid off her face and Wimpler went

quickly to the door and went down the stairs. 2021

„„,_„ , , ,. , , treating back, he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally got back to his own house, he ^ ^ bacfc ^ derk wag * *Q ^

heaved a sigh of relief. He removed his black night oor r

suit and dumped his take out on the bed.

The diamonds sparkled and shone and he let wi ler tumed ^ r£m from stor

them wash through his fingers as he played with dowQ /m Street tQ ^ gu station

them on the bed. How much, he wondered. Ten J

telephone and call the police. Inside of thirty seconds, the store would be surrounded.

He d find out tomorrow when he went to 47th

thousand? Twenty? He got off the subway at 42nd Street where he

^^^ ^ he had ^ ^ beWnd Sq

Street m Manhattan to sell them. - j. hnpiarv career

As he got off the subway at 47th Street and Ave- Rewa¿¿fthe streetsHe d six hot d vend.

nue of the Americas, he was surprised to realize his ^ izza ^ ^Donalds, a *B

heart was pounding again ^ Chinese ^^ f()od sh food stQres b

What if someone called the pohce? the dozen, noticed and counted only because he was He took a deep breath and walked into the first

starving.

He fished in his pocket. He had fifty cents. In New York, it wasn't even enough for a sidewalk hot dog. And besides, he wanted to go home. He went down to the subway platform, took the train back to Brooklyn, got off at Atlantic Avenue and walked down to the docks.