The Great Slay Read online

  tHE GREAT SLAY

  Private Detective Kaiser Wrench slugs it out with two-timing still luscious ex-Hollywood cougar who’s using everything she’s got to block the trail of a vicious killer.

  The Great Slay

  A Poached Parody

  P.C. HATTER

  Also known as Stacy Bender

  Byrnas Books

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  The Great Slay

  Copyright © 2020 by Stacy Bender

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Cover design by Elizabeth Mackey

  Art by Sara “Caribou” Miles

  CHAPTER 1

  The night was cold, wet, and rainy, while the bar reeked of stale beer, cheap perfume, and wet dog. A couple of drunks argued about what to play on the jukebox in the corner. A barfly wearing a too-tight, last-decade dress decided I had plenty of money to spend when she spotted the change on the bar in front of me.

  The hippo sidled up to me and rubbed against my leg. “You new around here?”

  “No, I’ve been here since six.”

  “Buy me a drink?” Her breath smelled like she’d already had a few, and when she crowded into me, she nearly knocked me off my feet.

  “No.”

  “Don’t gentlemen usually buy ladies a drink?”

  Not wanting to deal with anything or anyone other than the drink in front of me, I looked into her overly painted face with a scowl. “I’m no gentlemen, and I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

  “You’re not very nice.”

  When I didn’t respond, she tried rubbing my leg. Cranky, irritable, and feeling downright unsociable, I gave her a roar that would have had most prey animals scurrying away. Drunken hippos aren’t exactly prey animals. She gave me a pout that made her look more like a deranged circus clown but moved off down the bar when I wouldn’t budge.

  The bar was a stinking place to spend the evening, but on the East Side, beggars can’t be choosers. I didn’t like the idea of going out in the rain, but I swore if one more person annoyed me, I was going to start tossing people out just so that I could drink in peace.

  A skinny cheetah came through the door soaked to the bone. Instead of wearing his coat, he had it wrapped around a bundle. He looked around and set the bundle in a booth. No one had even noticed his entrance other than me.

  He set a dollar on the bar in exchange for two shots. One he slugged down the other, he took back to the booth. Whatever had him down, it was enough to have him crying. Movement of the bundle caught my attention, and the cheetah adjusted the coat. Wrapped within was a cub no more than a year old. The little guy was asleep.

  My drink soured in my stomach at the sight. Why did the guy bring an infant into a dive like this? Where was his mother? Was that why he was crying, or was it something worse?

  The cheetah emptied his glass, kissed the cub, and bolted for the door leaving the bundle in the booth.

  For several seconds, I stood there before shock turned to anger. Teeth clenched, I tore after the cheetah. He was halfway down the street by the time I got outside, a vague silhouette under the streetlights, but I did my best to catch up.

  A Buick sedan pulled away from the curb, and I heard the cough of a gun. Two shots had the cheetah face down on the sidewalk. The car stopped, and someone jumped out of the back. The shadowy figure ran over to the cheetah, bent down and frisked him. Under the light, I could tell it was a raccoon.

  I should have waited and gotten closer before firing. A .45 isn’t built for distance. The raccoon shrieked and bolted back toward the Buick while the driver yelled for him to hurry. He almost made it. One of my shots took him in the leg, and he went down.

  The guy in the Buick wasn’t about to wait. He jammed his foot on the gas, wrenched the wheel hard, and ran right over the screaming raccoon, silencing him. The Buick roared off as I emptied my gun.

  There I was, standing over a dead cheetah with two slugs in his back. I holstered my gun, pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket, and stuck one in my mouth. “What were you into fella?”

  The pair of police cars took a full two minutes getting to the sight. One of the dogs exited the car with his gun in hand and pointed it straight at my gut. “Who are you?”

  “Is this how you treat an eyewitness?”

  The hound behind me frisked me and found my gun, took it out, and smelled the barrel. For a moment I thought he was going to clock me with it, but he was old enough to know to ask questions first.

  Before he could, I said, “Side pocket.”

  He pulled out my wallet and looked at my badge, PI license, and gun license. “Private Investigator Kaiser Wrench.”

  “That’s me.”

  The hound scowled but handed my stuff back. “What happened?”

  “The cheetah came into the bar and looked scared out of his mine. He had two drinks and ran out. I got curious and followed.”

  “In this rain, you got curious?”

  “Tigers aren’t known to be afraid of a little water, and last time I checked they’re still cats.”

  The dog bared his teeth but said, “Go on.”

  “The cheetah ran out, and a Buick came after him. There were two shots from the car and the racoon over there got out and frisked the body. I fired my gun, clipped the guy in the leg, and his partner ran him over.”

  The pup with the gun came at me with a snarl. “So, you let loose?”

  The older dog shoved him back. “Put it away and call the chief.”

  He didn’t like taking orders from the older dog, not a good thing if you want to stay a cop for long. “How do we know he’s telling the truth?”

  “Check the roadkill if you don’t believe me.”

  The dog must have been one sheltered pup because he started hurling the moment he looked at the squashed mess in the road.

  Duke didn’t arrive until about one in the morning. He pulled the collar of his coat up against the rain and looked over the scene void of the usual gawkers. This wasn’t the type of neighborhood to get excited about a shooting, especially in the rain.

  I let him look around before tossing my cigarette butt and walked out of the shadow. “Hello, Duke.”

  “Hello, Kaiser. I hear you’re a witness to this mess.”

  “Yes, I already told everything I know.”

  Duke’s eyes narrowed. “Are you on a case?”

  “If I was, I’d tell you and keep mum.”

  “When you’re at a murder scene, things are never cut and dry.”

  “Well, it is raining.”

  He closed his eyes and cringed. “Do you know any of these guys? They weren’t carrying identification.”

  “Don’t think so, but I haven’t taken a good look at the raccoon yet.”

  The morgue wagon rolled up with the Medical Examiner in tow. Once they were given the okay, the buzzards went to work cleaning up. I strolled over to the roadkill and borrowed a buzzard’s flashlight. The face was contorted with fear and pain, and the rain had the fur plastered to the hourglass shaped corpse. Middle aged, the raccoon wore an expensive suit but had a hole in his shoe.

  “A nice specimen,” said the buzzard. “The raccoon we had last week was run over by a trailer truck. Had to use a shovel on that one.”

  “Do you sleep well at night?”

  The buzzard looked at me in confusion. “Quite well. Why?”

  “Never mind.”

  Duke walked over and said, “The M.E. recognized this one. Twelve years ago, he was a witness in an inquest. He was one of Nelson S
aldonia’s gang.

  Nelson Saldonia died of natural causes about the same time I’d gotten my license. What little I knew came from the papers at the time, and I said as much to Duke.

  “Other than the cheetah having a house key, neither of them had anything but change on them.”

  “He spent his last buck in the bar for a shot of courage.”

  “Why do you say that?” Duke looked at me with a searching gaze, and I knew he wasn’t going to give up.

  “Let’s go back to the bar.”

  Duke said something to the M.E. and one of the cops before we left. He looked the same way he always did when finding a corpse.

  “Must be frustrating to not be able to do anything until after something happens.”

  “I can’t arrest people for thinking of doing things.”

  When we got to the bar, Duke tried to question the bartender and a few patrons but didn’t get anywhere. I’d picked up the bundle while he worked and checked on the cub. He was still sound asleep.

  “What’s that?” asked Duke.

  “The reason I got curious. When the cheetah ran, I thought he was abandoning his cub. What he was really doing was trying to keep the cub safe because he knew he was going to die.”

  “Are you making up this story as you go?”

  “It’s the only story that makes sense of what I saw.”

  “We’ll have to call an agency to take him.”

  I scowled at that. “Great, just what he needs.”

  “What else can we do?”

  “I’ll take him for the night.”

  Duke looked at me with a shocked expression on his face. “You’ll what?”

  “You heard me. It’s better than leaving him at the station until someone has the time to pick him up.”

  “Fine, but this is a screwy case. Are you sure the driver ran over the racoon deliberately? He didn’t misjudge the distance?”

  “I know what I saw, Duke.”

  “Are you going to go after the driver? From that look on your face, I’d say you’re about to go on one of your crusades.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Just do me a favor and clean up your own mess for a change.”

  I scowled at Duke, but he only said, “The D.A. will want a statement from you. I suggest you tread lightly, that peacock has enough trouble trying to nail the big guys in the gambling racket, and he might take his frustrations out on you.”

  “Can’t he close a bookie joint? The newspapers are having a field day. Did you see the character drawing yesterday?”

  “It would have been funnier if I didn’t have to deal with him. Every time we go after Dean Taylor or Guy Marsh, they slip the noose.”

  Guy Marsh was an old name in the business, and he sold his services to the highest bidder. The last time I saw that chameleon he was shooting craps in a back alley while roadkill raccoon held his jacket.

  With the cub in my arms, I stepped outside and hailed a cab. We had to make several stops before I picked up the information I was looking for. The bartender at stop number six told me Guy Marsh was probably at the Toy Box Club. The taxi driver must have had cubs of his own because he snarled at me when I got back in the vehicle. “The cub is too young to be sitting in a cab on a night like this. He should be home.”

  “There’s nothing I would like better, but sometimes what we want and what we’re dealt are two different things.”

  The cabbie turned around and gave me a good stare. Had I been drunk, he probably would have tossed me out. Once we got to the club, I gave the cabbie a fin to watch the cub again and went inside.

  Strippers strutted on stage and if enough money was offered, they’d forget about the limits prescribed by New York law. Most of the males were so drunk they were happy to hand over their wallets. I spotted a busboy cleaning tables and headed for him. The penguin was so busy trying to work and watch the show he didn’t even glance at me when I asked him where Guy Marsh was.

  “In the back. Him and the guys got a game going.”

  “Go tell him to get his rear in here.”

  The penguin gaped at me and said, “Are you crazy?”

  “Tell Guy it’s important business. He’ll be sore if he doesn’t hear what I have to tell him.”

  The busboy gave me a sideways look, said, “It’s your funeral,” and shuffled to the back. A little while later he came by again and told me Guy was on his way.

  Guy came out of the back and the penguin pointed me out. The chameleon was middle aged and wore an expensive tux that ran into the three figures range. If you didn’t look for the bulge, you might not realize he packed a gun.

  One eye drifted in a different direction as he tried to place me while the other one stayed on the bulge under my own jacket. “What do you want?”

  “Have a seat.”

  Guy sat down at the table across from me and as I talked, I made sure he noticed my hands near my lapels. Lizards weren’t known for their speed unless it was blistering hot out, and I didn’t want him to get any funny ideas about drawing his piece. “One of your males was flattened tonight, he used to hold your coat during crap games.”

  His eyes stopped moving, but he said nothing.

  “Expensive suit, hole in the shoe? Maybe he was working for you tonight?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Kaiser Wrench, Private Investigator.”

  Guy sneered. “So what?”

  “I may have put a slug through the raccoon’s leg, but the driver didn’t want to take a chance on him squealing, so they ran him over. Makes me wonder what was so important about the cheetah they just got through killing.”

  “No one is working for me tonight.”

  “Good to know.”

  Moving slowly, Guy pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. “You’d better watch yourself shamus. I don’t like it when people talk tough with me.”

  “Guy, if I find out you had anything to do with what happened tonight, I’m going to rub your face off on the cement and use your tail as bait for the fish. If you want to play rough with me, you’d better be careful, or I’ll have your guts on the pavement.” I gave him one of my nicer smiles that showed a lot of fang and left while he was still trying to get his color changing abilities under control.

  I got back into the cab and checked my watch. “Penn Station and hurry.” The ride was a bit bumpy, but after a few more minutes, we pulled up to the station, and I paid off the driver.

  Cub in arm, I hustled into the place and found Velvet standing by the information booth. She was one lynx nobody missed. Tall and luscious, she had a seductive quality that clothes couldn’t hide.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Velvet swung around and scowled. “Can’t you read a clock?”

  “I got sidetracked by work.”

  She gave me one of her interrogation stares but didn’t realize what I was holding until it moved.

  “Kaiser?”

  “Cute isn’t he. I’m watching him for his father.”

  She looked at the sleeping cub and back at me. “Work?”

  “Afraid so.” I picked up Velvet’s suitcase while still holding the cub in my other arm. “Let’s get you on the train to Florida so you can catch some bad guys.” The speaker system was calling that the Miami limited was loading, and I walked on ahead.

  “Kaiser, are you sure? I can always cancel this trip.” Velvet’s ears moved and the tuffs on the ends flipped back and forth.

  “Nonsense.” I put her on the train and kissed her goodbye. Part of me wanted to tell her to stay and forget about the elephant in Miami with a handful of stolen gems, but I couldn’t stand in the way of her big catch. I let the train carry her away and waved goodbye.

  Once I got back to my apartment, undressed the cub, and tossed the near shredded overalls into the trash can, I had a heck of a time trying to figure out what to use as a new diaper and settled on an old dish towel. At least the safety pins were in good shape. I washed the old diaper as best I c
ould and hung it up to dry. The cub I set on the couch with a bunch of blankets and used a couple of chairs on one side in case he rolled. With a blanket tucked around him, I shuffled to my own bed.

  Somebody was going to answer for this.

  CHAPTER 2

  The sun shone thru the window straight into my face at ten in the morning, but that’s not what woke me. Between the phone ringing and the horrendous crash, I was out of bed and in the next room like a shot. The cub was awake and had knocked over one of the end tables. The lamp that used to set on it was now broken on the floor while the cub was halfway up the drapes and climbing fast.

  I managed to grab him without shredding me or the drapes and dropped him back on the couch so that I could pick up the phone.

  Duke was on the other end, heard how good the little fur balls lungs were, and couldn’t stop laughing. “Trouble, Kaiser?”

  “The cub’s better than an alarm clock. What’s up?”

  “Information about the cub’s father. Can you get down here? I’ve got a deal for you.”

  “Give me about an hour. Do I need to bring him with me or try and find someone to look after him?”

  “Have someone watch after him. Calling an agency never made it off my to-do list.”

  When I hung up and turned around, it was to see the little guy sharpening his claws on my couch. With a sigh, I called down to the doorman downstairs and told him to send up an errand boy. The young lynx male was at my apartment door in less than five minutes. I told him I needed clothes and groceries for a young cub and that included cloth diapers. There weren’t enough dish towels in my apartment to do anything other than hold him over night.

  The errand boy said not to worry, that he’d help raise his siblings. Ten bucks doesn’t get you much when it comes to young, but we got him diapered, dressed, and fed. I tipped the lynx five for the help and got myself ready. On the floor below me was a nurse who agreed to take care of the cub during the day as long as I took him back at night. The hedgehog charged an arm and a leg, but when I spotted the cub climbing the nurse’s china cabinet, I figured the fee covered damages.