Black Princess Mystery (35 page)

“Back
off!” he shouted viciously.

“He could
have kicked your ass if you faced him like a man!” Tasheka exclaimed, a nasty
curl to her upper lip. “Tim was in good shape, but you snuck out of the dark
and hit him from behind.”

“He snuck
into my wife’s room behind my back and he raped her behind my back. He deserved
everything he got. He was a worthless piece of garbage.”

“If he had
his way,” Tasheka said, “I would have been lying on a table and my daughter
would have been aborted. She would have died. But that didn’t happen, Bill. At
least not then.” Tasheka flexed her long, thin fingers as if they were the legs
of a black widow. “If you kill me, you kill her—just like he wanted. You will
be doing Tim Murphy’s bidding, Bill. You will be like a slave to the man who
raped your wife.”

“You’re
clever, I’ll give you that. A regular little Dostoevsky with the mind games.”

“You might
as well pull your drawers down and bend over for him, Bill. Killing me would be
like letting him fuck you up the ass.”

“That’s
disgusting,” McNab said with undisguised contempt.

“You know,
Bill, we’ve covered almost all the bases. But what about me? What about me,
Bill? I was a suspect. You investigated me.” She laughed at him. “Yes, you were
very thorough. But what was my tragic flaw, Bill? We’ve already talked about
Mike, Jake, Matt, Henrietta, William, even Momma. But what about me? What did
you say about me, Bill?”

“I put it
out there that you might be a serial killer,” McNab told her, “and that you may
have confessed this to the priest. After you told him, you regretted it. The
murder was to keep him quiet.”

“Voila!”
Tasheka exclaimed. “My motive was to keep him quiet.”

“That’s
right.”

“Now I ask
myself,” Tasheka said, “if this motive could be the only one Detective McNab
does not share. He is competitive like Mike, jealous like Jake, protective like
Matt, greedy and spiteful like Henrietta, vengeful like William and my mother.
But did Detective McNab share my flaw? Was there something Father Tim knew that
you didn’t want revealed? Hmm? Is there some dark little secret lurking here?”

McNab
fidgeted uncomfortably. “Did he tell you anything?”

“We shared
everything,” she said with an irrational laugh.

“What did
he tell you?” McNab insisted with great agitation.

“I think
you know very well what he told me,” she said meaningfully and with a slight
nod. “But what does it matter? I’ll be taking those secrets to my grave, won’t
I?”

“Yes, you
will,” he said forcefully.

“I’ve been
a bad girl, Bill. I’ve participated in dark rituals. I’ve done a lot in my
life, Bill, and there was a time when there was almost nothing I wouldn’t do.
But I’m pregnant and all that’s changed. I’m responsible for another life now.
And who is this other life, Bill? A baby who has yet to be spoiled by the
world, a baby without sin, without so much as a single blemish on her soul.
Just like your wife, Bill.” She paused and looked him in the eye. “My daughter
is your Natalie. If you kill me, you kill her, the one person in this cold,
untrustworthy world that you love.”

“I have to
kill you,” he said, as if hoping she would accept that fact. “I have no choice.
Make your peace, slut.”

“I’m not
afraid to die,” Tasheka declared defiantly, holding her head high, “and I’m not
going to whimper for you or anyone else.”

“You’ve
got guts, I’ll give you that.”

“Not
really,” Tasheka said with a stoical shrug. “I’m young, but I’m tired, Bill. I
don’t care anymore. I’m pregnant, unmarried, and I live in a small community.
What am I going to tell them, Bill? Am I going to admit that the Black Princess
isn’t all she’s cracked up to be? That the little sweetie is carrying a priest’s
baby? How would you like to be in my shoes, Bill?”

“You’re a
whore, a bona fide whore, so don’t come running to me. You made your own bed
and now you have to sleep in it.”

“You’d be
doing me a favor by blowing my brains out,” Tasheka said. “Shoot me if you’ve
got the balls because I don’t give a rat’s ass if I live or if I die. I mean
it. I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass if I live one more minute. I literally
couldn’t care less.”

“I have no
choice,” he said. He pointed the gun barrel at a spot between her eyes. “If I
walk away now, you can tell them the whole story.”

“Me?”
Tasheka said, shaking her head. “Oh, no, Bill, I’m not telling anyone.” She
paused. “You’re going to tell them.”

“Really?”

“Yes,
really,” she assured him. “And you know why you’re going to tell them?”

“Why?” he
asked sarcastically.

“Because
you’re sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. This is eating you up, gnawing
at your guts. Your whole life has revolved around serving and protecting the
public, but when you cut ties with your mother, you lost it. You’re murdering
people, Bill. At one time, in a way, you could have almost justified it, but
the moment you killed Father Tim, it all changed. No longer were you protecting
the community, you were acting out of rage, pride, selfishness. And how far
you’ve gone now. How far you’ve gone! At first it was a drug dealer who was
responsible for a child’s death. But look at yourself now. You have your gun
pointed at an unarmed, pregnant woman. A pregnant woman, Bill! What’s next, a
shooting spree at the daycare center? Ask yourself that, Bill. Where do you go
from here?”

“Don’t be
ridiculous.”

“Why is it
ridiculous?” she asked, seemingly not the least agitated. “When you killed
Father Tim, you killed a priest, Detective McNab. A man of God.”

“He was no
man of God!” McNab exclaimed. “He was a little devil and we both know it.”

“No,
Bill,” Tasheka said, shaking her head. “He was a man of God and we both know
it. All people are God’s children. And you realized it that day on the golf
course when I showed you the body. Prior to Father Tim, you had never seen your
handiwork afterwards because you always killed outside your jurisdiction. But
when you saw Father Tim that morning, it was many hours after the act. The rush
of adrenaline must have long subsided. You saw the result of your work now for
the first time from an objective point of view.”

He
squirmed uncomfortably.

“I
remember that day clearly,” Tasheka continued. “You walked over to the hedge,
brushed away some snow, and then froze. When you looked back with a ghastly
expression on your face, I thought you literally might vomit. You were that
pale. It wasn’t because Father Tim’s head had been crushed. No, you’ve seen
ghastly sights like that before. You felt sick because you did it, and what you
did was looking right back up at you.” She paused. “You weren’t looking at a
corpse, you were confronting your own conscience. And it upset the good man
inside you who was fighting to exert himself.”

“You were
right about how I did it,” he admitted. “I parked on the other side of the lake
then came across in the dark, took the club from Vendor’s yard, and waited.”

“I knew
that was what you did.”

McNab
swallowed hard and gazed at her. “Murphy came just when I expected and walked
past the tree toward the lake. He was only ten feet away with his back to me,
smoking a cigarette in the middle of a blizzard, with no idea I was there. I
raised the club above my head and walked toward him. Every time I killed, I can
remember thinking, just before I struck the blow, ‘Closer, closer, closer…’
Those few seconds before I struck the blow, when I held a man’s fate in my
hands, they were the best.” His eyes seemed to smolder. “Closer, closer, closer….”

“And when
you got close enough, what did it feel like, Bill?”

“It felt
like heaven,” McNab said dreamily. “It felt like a holy murder.”

“Relive it
for me, Bill. Take me there.”

“I slowly
moved forward and then—whack! I nailed him right across the back of the head.
He staggered and instinctively reached for the wound, then stumbled forward to
get distance from me. But he fell to his knees, falling forward on his hands,
blood gushing from his head like a water fountain. I could have hit him again,
but I didn’t. I hauled the hatchet out of my belt and cut his hand off with one
hard chop. You should have seen him. He cried out like a woman and whimpered
like the louse he was. I waited until he looked into my eyes, and in that
instant, that blinding instant, I understood that he knew. He knew why he
deserved to die.” McNab took deep breaths as if after a spirited run. “I took
the hand home and showed it to Natalie, and, oh, how she cried! She was so
proud of me! I could see it in her eyes and I could hear it in her voice.”

“Did you
make love to her that night?” Tasheka asked again, her eyes gleaming with
intensity.

McNab
became solemn.

“Bill, did
you make love to Natalie after putting Father Tim’s hand in the freezer?”

He laughed
madly. “I suppose I can tell you because I’m going to kill you anyway.” He
lowered the gun and pointed it at her stomach. “I made love to Natalie after
all the purges, but on this night, after killing the filthy rapist who attacked
her, she made love to me.”

“She’s a
slut,” Tasheka suddenly shouted, “a fucking, horny slut!”

McNab’s
face became stone cold and it seemed he might physically pounce on her at any
moment, beating her to death with his bare hands.

“She’s a
harlot, a prostitute!” Tasheka exclaimed.

“Shut up!”
McNab shouted.

“She’s a
slut because she liked it when Father Tim felt her up,” Tasheka continued,
staring into his eyes. “She wanted to fuck him, Bill! She wanted to fuck him
while you were asleep!”

“You
goddamned little bitch!” McNab snapped with an animal-like growl. “I’m going to
kill you, you black whore!”

“Tim
Murphy told me all about your bitch,” Tasheka said, her eyes locked into his.
“She told him to go away, and then to come back without turning the lights on.
That must have been because of the cameras. She wanted to do it the dark, while
you slept upstairs without knowing what she was up to. Your wife begged Tim
Murphy to come back and fuck her, Bill. She begged him. She said she’d do
anything. Nothing was off limits.”

“You lying
piece of garbage.” McNab extended his arm to its full length, pointed the
muzzle right at her head, and put his finger on the trigger. He tensed as if
preparing for the gun blast. “I’m going to blow your brains out, liar.”

“Better
think twice about that, Billy.”

“I don’t
care about the rapist’s seed inside you. It’s not a person, it’s a disease.”

“I’m not
talking about that,” Tasheka said with an intense stare, her whole countenance
remarkably serene. “Let me put it this way. You’re not the only one with an
interest in cameras and recording equipment.”

“What are
you talking about?” he questioned suspiciously.

“Before
you came, I set up a hidden camera in this room and it recorded everything you
said and did since you got here.”

His face
drained of color. “Bullshit!”

“It’s the
truth, Willy. Shoot me, leave, and then find out later.”

“Hmm, a
possible mistake,” he noted.

“Definitely
a mistake.”

“Killing
is exciting because it’s universally considered the most reprehensible act,”
McNab said, as if thinking out loud, “but that’s its charm. Unfortunately,
murder also clouds the mind. Killers make mistakes.”

“Yes,
Bill, you have made a mistake. You’re going to be a star when they find that
movie. Everyone’s going to want a piece of you.”

He shook
the gun at her. “Where is it?”

“And I
should tell you?” she queried. “Once you know, you’ll just kill me and be gone.
That’s why you parked behind the woods, so you could come and go without being
seen. And I have no doubt you’re driving, oh, maybe a small red car with a
missing hubcap on the front tire.”

“How did
you know that?” His eyes narrowed. “Where’s the fucking camera?”

She shook
her head and his lower lip quivered with rage. For a moment she thought he was
going to shoot her, but he just stared at her.

“What’s
wrong, Bill? Having trouble shooting a woman?”

“Where’s
the camera!” he shouted.

“Here!”
Tasheka said, turning on the radio and cranking up the volume.

“What the
hell are you doing?” he asked angrily, with the look of a hunter glowering at
ducks who won’t come close enough to shoot. “Turn that off!”

“You!” she
hollered, stepping away from him but staring at the gun.

He turned
off the radio, growled like a wild dog, and then pointed the gun right at her
stomach. “You fucking whore! I’m going to shoot you right in the guts!” All of
a sudden, McNab heard a voice behind him.

“Drop it,
Bill!” shouted Thorston, his pistol trained on his partner’s back. “I’ll shoot
you if I have to.”