Bouncer (22 page)

“Shush,” Nick hissed.

Lea resisted the urge to slap him. Mr. Buff couldn’t possibly understand an injury like hers. The smell of feces once again assailed her nose as they paused below a low bottlebrush shrub at the entrance of the rear garden and stared in stupefied horror.

The metal stake Lea had noted earlier now held a heavy metal chain to which was leashed a snarling creature. Clothed in a loose brown robe, it ran frantically to the end of its tether, tossing a stick into the air and trying to catch it between claws and teeth. An elderly, balding man nodded in a plastic patio chair, his bristled chin sunk upon his chest, which rose and fell in deep sleep. Nick grabbed her arm, holding her back. The chained creature was no beast but a child!

The boy or girl, or whatever it was, instantly stopped its play, having somehow recognized their approach. As it turned towards her, Lea could not contain a gasp of horror. A dwarfish creature, whose giant, misshapen head was covered in bristling red hair cut obscenely short, stared back. The dwarf was so obese that his eyes were simply slits inside great rolls of flesh. His panting mouth hung open, the drool staining the brown cotton material of his formless gown.

The dwarf’s legs were short and stumpy, but that didn’t seem to hinder quick movement. The creature issued a blubbering sound, his fickle moods changing in an instant. He suddenly barked like a dog, and the old man jerked violently, his head snapping up. The seated man fastened light-green eyes made blurry by alcohol and age upon them.

“Christ,” he shrieked. “You’re . . . you’re trespassing!” He clutched the white plastic chair and rose feebly. “I’m calling the police,” he announced shakily.

Nick made a start as if to move forward, but Lea restrained his arm.

“Wait,” she ordered quietly. She reached inside her awful paisley jacket and pulled out the red rubber ball. The slits obscuring the boy’s eyes widened, appearing surprisingly coherent.

“We’re with the police,” stated Nick and pulled out the warrant from yesterday’s entry. The old man, apparently more nimble than he first appeared, lunged for the boy and yanked at his chain.

“I swear I only chain him up when I sleep. If I don’t, he destroys everything or tries to escape. You can see he lacks the ability to take care of himself.” He quickly unlatched the chain from the collar now apparent upon the dwarf’s neck and backed away, fearful of how the situation appeared to the detectives. The freed child/man instantly scurried to the high wall, making small useless jumps to escape just like a dog would.

“Bouncer,” called out Nick tentatively, remembering Philemon’s term for his hidden ball partner. The dwarf stopped his frantic pawing of the fence and cocked his over-sized head to listen intently. So obese he appeared to lack a neck, his collar, barely recognizable between the folds of fat and the loose fitting cotton robe became apparent.

“How do you know his nickname?” sputtered the elderly man, who was as thin as the dwarf was fat. He moved quickly towards the drooling, disheveled creature, and suddenly, Bouncer lunged, hugging the old man’s legs and nearly toppling him over.

“Philemon, the gardener from next door, told us about him,” said Nick cocking his head at Lea. “Toss him the ball.”

Bouncer’s tiny eyes watched them through narrow slits. Lea tossed the ball high and the dwarf leaped, catching the ball in teeth which appeared more pointed than blunt. A chuckle, almost normal sounding, rose up as drool slathered the red ball.

“It’s not what you think,” said the old man straightening. He appeared very tall, though his actual height was hard to determine next to the dwarf. “You need to understand that Bouncer is simple-minded and unfortunately can harm others as well as himself. He behaves like an animal and isn’t even house-broken. We just couldn’t bear to put him in a home. I’m an old man, and I can hardly take care of him or myself anymore.” The last was a plea.

Lea noted that at least four of the creature’s fingers were loaded with thick golden rings. “What’s his real name?”

The scarecrow man blanched. “His name is Charles, or Charlie, but he never responds to that. We’ve played ball for years and have talked so often about the toy bouncing that one day he pointed to himself and said Bouncer, so Bouncer he is.”

“He talks?” asked Nick in disbelief. The creature’s IQ couldn’t be very high.

“Only a little, much like a three year old. He mostly points, and after all this time I know instinctively what he wants.”

“Why is he hidden here?” said Nick, suddenly disgusted by the whole scene.

“I would like you to imagine that you’d given birth to a child such as this. His parents were embarrassed,” said the old man, who suddenly looked incredibly proud. “His family depends on me to take care of him, and I cater to all his needs and make sure that he is kept safe. We all felt it was a better option than putting him into some institution.”

“Are you related to him?” asked Nick, trying to see if there were any facial similarities, but could recognize none in the rolls of fat. Bouncer was now licking the ball.

“Distantly,” said the old man evasively.

“And what’s your name?”

“Murdoch. Eddie Murdoch, or Edward, for your records. So, you gonna arrest me?” he straightened even taller and for a man so thin and frail he suddenly looked as gallant as a soldier who’s done their duty unashamedly.

“I don’t know,” asked Nick. “Should I?”

He watched the elderly man’s anxious face intently, but before Edward Murdoch could answer, the ball suddenly sailed into the air. Nick reached up a quick hand and caught it as expertly as a professional baseball player. The dwarf shuffled forward on stubbly legs and giggled obscenely, stretching out short arms equipped with oversized hands. Nick tossed it back to him, and once again the man, who Thayne realized was far older than a child but who still possessed the eternal youth of the mentally handicapped, caught the ball in his teeth. Though clearly his coordination was poor, Bouncer could still catch the sphere like a faithful retriever. The trio watched as he laboriously retrieved the ball with his left hand and threw it up into the air again.

“Good,” said Nick, catching the ball nimbly. He tossed it further this time and Bouncer rushed to capture the ball using his hands much like an ape might. It had rolled near the dung heap and the proximity of the putrid pile must have compelled Bouncer, for suddenly he squatted, a yellow stream running amongst the stained leaves. Lea fought her nausea and embarrassment. Nick however, was not remotely embarrassed, only angry.

“I believe that the Child Welfare Department would not appreciate the situation here. I also strongly suspect that you may be a witness to a double murder and have chosen not to report it.”

“I witnessed nothing,” said Eddie Murdoch between clenched teeth stained yellow from years of cigarette smoking.

“So . . . can you explain the limo?” said Fox.

Eddie Murdoch straightened his bony shoulders. “I’m not saying anything without a lawyer.” He hobbled back to the white patio chair and sank down, folding his hands across his lap. Bouncer waddled over and squatted beside him, bouncing the ball up and down. Nick flipped open his cell phone and activated the line. There were six messages, all from the police station, but he didn’t even bother to retrieve them, instead directly dialing Chief Rollins. Even
he
couldn’t ignore this new development.

Chapter 21

Pure chaos erupted at the Collins residence as the police, and later Social Services, converged upon the house. Eddie confessed that Bouncer had been housed in a basement accessible through the broom closet, but refused to say much more. Lea let Thayne deal with all of it in his smooth, efficient way, deciding it was much better to leave the still-irate chief to him. Bouncer remained passive enough until the African-American social worker decided to try and lure him into the waiting vehicle using a candy bar as an enticement. Without warning, he lunged at the social worker, imbedding his teeth in the shoulder of her cream-colored suit.

She shrieked as two policemen wrestled the dwarf away from the stricken government worker.

“Stop it,” shouted Eddie at the top of his lungs. “You’re hurting him!” He shoved Officer Guzman to the ground, and grabbing the dwarf, shoved Bouncer safely behind him.

“Get away or I’ll kill you!”

“Take it easy,” said Dwayne Matthews, the most senior of Chief Rollins’ force. “We’re not going to hurt him.”

“You touch him, and I’ll smash your face in. Don’t come near us. I’m warning you.”

The social worker held a hand to her bleeding shoulder. “He’s like an animal,” she cried. “Look what he did to me!”

“Just take it easy. Randy, you get behind Mr. Murdock. Use the candy bar as bait.”

Officer Phelps did as he was instructed. “Here you go,” he coaxed, holding the chocolate nut bar in plain view of the dwarf. Charlie began to inch away from his protective caregiver.

“Nooo!” screamed Eddie. “Leave my boy alone! Come any closer and I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Nobody’s gonna take either of us away. This is our home. Back off! Back off, I tell you, or I’ll break your neck! Pigs, pigs! All of you! Leave us alone!” So intent was he on facing off Officer’s Phelps and Matthews that he didn’t see Enrique Guzman rise from the sidewalk and maneuver himself behind the irate man. The solid police officer pushed Charlie to the side where he cowered sniveling and shaking, and finally managed to grab the older man in a bear hug. Handcuffs flashed and suddenly Eddie was a prisoner.

An irate Eddie continued his verbal abuse of Monroe’s finest as the bleeding woman sought medical care and Charlie was restrained with handcuffs as well. Bouncer sent up a howling chorus that eerily split the morning calm.

Chief Rollins froze, listening intently to Eddie Murdock’s diatribe as Lea watched the chief study the strange child/man with the oddest expression flitting over his florid face.

Thayne sidled up to her. “Katie, the little girl down the street, mentioned a light in the second story and a ghost with wild hair howling at the moon. I thought it only a child’s fantasy.”

“But it wasn’t. After that little scene with the social worker, it’s clear where Connie’s tooth marks came from.”

“It places Thad’s mistress here, alright. Our chief appears about ready to explode. I don’t think things are going his way.” The police crew was snapping countless photos of the chain and dung pile. Nick tapped Lea’s arm as the chief approached. “Why don’t you take this opportunity to wander off and find where our little friend was housed? I’ll deal with him.”

Lea made her way back into the house. Once again inside the beautifully designed house, she recognized that all the expensive trimmings were just superficial trappings in a house designed as a prison. She headed towards the broom closet under the stairwell, and after searching diligently, finally discovered how the carefully designed door handle could have fooled the casual observer. Fox jerked the door open, revealing a short flight of steps.

Lea didn’t know what she had expected; a dungeon, perhaps, equipped with a grim metal cot complete with chains or a cell to house the animalistic dwarf. Instead, surprise transformed her face, as she realized the huge room below stairs had been converted into a castle, painstakingly designed for its inmate’s comfort. Bouncer obviously loved balls because there were piles and cartons of them everywhere. Little metal cars littered the plush carpet, and she recalled the box of toy cars in the playhouse. A huge track, complete with an elevated bridge and realistic river, skirted the playroom, and many little trains and cars were positioned upon it.

The most interesting piece of equipment had to be the large, plastic cube structure similar to one found at a fast food restaurant and bulging with hundreds of little plastic balls. A curved, heavy-duty slide had been thoughtfully constructed so the mentally handicapped man wouldn’t get hurt during his wild rides. Boxes of adult-sized diapers peeked out from behind a curtain displaying colorful tropical fish skimming a coral reef.

Near the back wall, a crib the size of a double bed but with extremely high bars, sat vacant. Upon inspection, it was clear that one side of the bars dropped downwards while a discreet upper gate section had the ability to swing closed over the top, totally imprisoning the dwarf. The prisoner had fought the metal bars, for they were clearly marked and scratched by his continual gnawing. A tiny kitchenette, complete with mini-refrigerator and double hotplates as well as a kettle and toaster, sat within five feet of the crib; a container of chocolate milk leaked onto the marble countertop.

On the other side of the room and distant from the jail-like crib, a partition stood. A queen-sized bed with a nondescript beige bedspread and two fluffy pillows sat next to an antique nightstand equipped with reading lamp and telephone. A brightly colored Picasso print hung above, sharing space with several faded blue and red ribbons, indicating success in collegiate wrestling. Directly across from the bed, a lovely ornate chest of drawers held a large TV set and DVD player. Sharing the comfortable space, a well-stocked bookshelf and an elaborate stereo system housed an eclectic collection of reading and DVDs. The partition totally enclosed Eddie Murdock’s space, providing his small retreat a needed sense of privacy.

What a horrible living arrangement this was. Lea moved to the only remaining door and frowned. Inside, a huge bathroom with a low step down tub and huge drain in the middle reminded her of a sterile hospital. A portable showerhead with a large coiled pipe was obviously used to hose down the simpleton. The whole washroom smelled of strong disinfectant and the lingering odor of feces. More packages of adult diapers were neatly stacked inside a wicker stand. On the opposite side, a lovely bath and shower combination, along with dual sinks and lovely cabinets, gleamed tiled in a calming powder gray.

Whoever had built this place had built it with not only the comfort of the caretaker in mind, but also had recognized the difficulties of housing and maintaining a creature like Bouncer. Charlie may have been a prisoner, but he was well taken care of and painfully overfed, evidenced by the Twinkie wrappers and a half-eaten bag of potato chips lying crumpled next to a discarded apple core. Likely, eating, bouncing balls, and playing with childish cars made up Bouncer’s entire existence. Lea heard a voice echo from the top of the stairs.

“Are you down there, Fox?” called Thayne, and she answered in the affirmative, beckoning him to venture down the steps. He stood for a long moment, surveying the room and absorbing its implications.

“Well,” said Nick finally. “I’m not sure we’ve solved our case, but have certainly uncovered, if not a crime, a gross mismanagement of a handicapped person.”

“It’s not the crib from your sketch.”

“No,” sighed Thayne.

“What are they going to do with Edward Murdock and the dwarf?”

“Take them away. Bouncer to a better facility, and Eddie, I just don’t know. His ranting and raving about killing everyone certainly places him in a precarious position.”

“Didn’t Philemon say that Bouncer repeated the word ‘magnolia’ to him?”

“That’s right,” responded Nick. “It’s in the report.”

“I wonder if we could get him to say the word again. That would suggest he knew something about the murder. And look at this.” She clumped over to the crib and pointed. “Teeth marks. While they’re probably from Bouncer, maybe someone else was kept a prisoner here as well.”

“I’ll get the boys to gather paint flakes off the crib and any hair or other samples. If they match the flakes found inside Thad Fisher, then we’ll know the mayor and Connie were restrained here against their wills.”

Lea added unemotionally. “I guess this means that Eddie Murdock is most likely the murderer?”

“I don’t know. What would be his motive?”

“Blackmail most likely. I suspect that Bouncer is Thad’s child and he was being blackmailed by the boy’s caretaker, Eddie. When the mayor decided to finally stop paying, Eddie sought to convince him and his girlfriend over a nice dinner that halting payments was a bad idea. When they wouldn’t cooperate, Eddie finished them off.” Fox watched Thayne’s face carefully. While she didn’t believe the scenario she’d just spun, Lea wanted to test his reaction.

He finally said, “So, you’re suggesting that Bouncer is to be viewed like some sort of obscene Calibus—the offspring of the mayor and Ashley Peebles? I don’t agree. And, unless Eddie is insane, why would he choose formaldehyde, of all things?”

“It makes as much sense as anything else, I guess.”

“Then where does Anthony Montanari fit in, and Philemon? His lip balm was found on the can
containing Connie’s finger, after all. That’s mighty incriminating.”

“Maybe it’s not just Rollins who has something against the gardener,” said Lea.

“I wondered that myself. But, as far as motive, blackmail seems the most reasonable.” He suddenly shook his head violently. “No. It’s all wrong, but I just can’t make the connection.”

“Maybe Bouncer killed Connie and the mayor.”

Nick cocked his head thinking hard. “He’s certainly strong enough, if he got hold of a screwdriver. Who knows? Perhaps Eddie Murdock was into more morbid behavior than it appears. I’ll have the crew search this room. Who knows? Maybe there’s another room that leads into Eddie’s little shop of horrors. Um . . . Fox . . . have you considered that maybe Ashley wasn’t as . . .
willing
as everyone has suggested?”

His strange meandering from the clues at hand made Fox’s head jerk straight up. Thayne’s dark eyes were hazy, and Lea had the notion he’d drifted far away.

“I hadn’t pondered that possibility, but it’s worth some contemplation.”

A voice shouted from above, and Thayne gave himself a mental shake before heading up the stairs with Fox following painfully behind. Bouncer was gently being led away by a different social worker, who, this time, was large and male. The capable bald man patted him on the arm and spoke in low tones. Bouncer suddenly stopped abruptly and began to wail, refusing to budge an inch.

The social worker searched his pocket and handed the dwarf a small metal car. Instantly, the wailing ceased as Bouncer’s beefy hand closed over the small toy. His heavy head lifted, and the small slits of his eyes widened as he peered out the gate. Its gaping presence seemed to terrify him, and the dwarf froze and pointed, suddenly shrieking again. No matter how the social worker tried to comfort the handicapped young man, Bouncer wouldn’t stop his high-pitched cries.

“I think he’s afraid of the street.” The stout government employee patted the dwarf on the shoulder and tried once again to lead him outside.

“Mag. . . mag… nol . . .lia,” he suddenly shrieked, pointing a chubby finger at what appeared to be the second floor of Mrs. Simms’ house. But then again, it could be just about anything, for a flock of crows were frantically cawing and circling the field. Liquid ambers swayed in the stiffening wind at the front of Mrs. Simms’ yard as a ginger cat crouched upon a neighbor’s wall, her back arched as the feline eyed the noisy crowd approaching the gate.

Anything could have set the dwarf off. Bouncer suddenly began to caw like the crows and now clearly pointed to where the solitary magnolia stood in silent testament to murder. Finally, the sobbing child-man, clutching his toy in one hand and pointing hysterically with the other handcuffed hand, was eased gently into the waiting sedan of the social worker. Thayne moved to where Chief Rollins watched the whole proceedings in undisguised disgust before stalking to the backyard.

Lea realized she didn’t have much time, and suddenly making up her mind, scurried into the spacious kitchen. Ignoring the sleek appliances and long, gleaming counters of the oversized kitchen, she headed towards the pantry, gently parting the white doors and slipping inside. Just as the swinging doors stopped rocking, she heard Thayne’s voice calling her name and Chief Rollins bellowing.

“I need to talk to Fox!”

“She headed off with the social worker.”

“We believe Charlie, or Bouncer as he is nicknamed, may have been witness to the murder, since human teeth marks were found on Connie Judson’s upper arm. You witnessed Charlie’s attack on the social worker. We think he was there at the crime scene. Maybe Fox can coax the truth out of him.”

“Is that right?” scoffed Chief Rollins. Fox could just barely discern his heavy form moving about the kitchen through the wooden slats. “We’ll see if she can charm the truth out of an idiot. Let her follow that wild goose chase. What we have is a simple case of child abuse, nothing more. Philemon Jenkins is our man. His fingerprints and lip balm are on the soda can housing the finger. He was a hit man hired to get rid of a man who didn’t pay his debts. Case closed.”