QB1 (3 page)

I turned and couldn’t hear anything behind
the apartment door. I twisted the door knob and felt it turn. It
wasn’t locked. I looked back and saw Roger standing by the door. I
gently opened the door knob and then eased it open.

He was pulling the girl by her hair. He
stopped when he saw me, ten feet away. He held a large hunting
knife. He picked the girl up and raised the knife to the girl’s
throat and screamed, “What the fuck are you doing in my house,
dickhead?”

I held the gun in a low stance and calmly
said, “drop the knife, it’s over Hinton.”

“I’ll fucking cut her head off,” he said. He
held her by her hair with the knife at her throat. It has a huge
blade. What an asshole.

I sighed, “Yea, I know.”

Chapter 4

I shot him. The woman and Hinton dropped to
the ground. He had a bullet through his head. I picked her up and
brought her over to the couch. She was hyperventilating and
bruised. Roger peered around the corner of the door. “It’s over,” I
said. He stared down at Hinton’s corpse. “Roger,” he didn’t look
up. “Roger,” I said louder. He looked at me. “Tell the cops, it’s
over. Get an ambulance for the girl.” He looked back down at the
body. The blood from the head spreading out underneath the body.
“Roger,” I yelled at him. He took off out the door.

He went down the stairs and out the door into
the bright sunlight. As he stood on the landing, he saw a full SWAT
team with weapons pointed up at him. He threw up his hands in a
panic and yelled, “He’s dead,” and burst into tears. It was that
picture of Roger with his hands in the air, terror on his face that
was on the front of newspapers all over the world the next day.

Chapter 5

Two SWAT team members and Tonelli came into
the room after Roger. He looked at the body and said, “Is that
him?”

I said, “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I think so. He was about to kill this one. I
looked down at the whimpering girl I was still bent over.”

“Is she hurt?”

“He was beating on her, maybe internal
injuries.”

Tonelli radioed the site was secure. Called
for EMT’s, crime scene techs and the coroner. I spent the next four
hours going over what happened in police debriefings downtown. I
lost track of Roger. Tonelli said they drove him home. They asked
me to make a statement to the press, but I passed.

Late in the afternoon, cops figured they had
enough. Tonelli drove me home. We left from underneath police
central, bypassing the throngs of press. “You got him, Tommy,” he
said, when we were alone. We got blood stains all over that plastic
enclosure downstairs. That’s where he was carving them up.”

“I never killed a guy before, Eddie.”

Tonelli thought about it. “Yea, well that was
a good place to start. He had a light on the roof and cars were
pulling over in front of us. “Holy shit. This is big, man. This is
a game changer for you.” He thought about it some more and said,
“and Roger too.”

I fished out my cell and called Velma, my
partner at the agency. The line was busy to the office. I tried her
cell and got her. She answered the phone with, “It’s about time.
I’ve been calling you since 7:30 this morning.” Velma has a bit of
a ‘tude.

“Hey Aunt Velma, what’s new?”

“What’s new, Aunt Velma?” she asked in a
thick New York Jewish accent, husky from years of Pall Malls.
“What’s new, Tommy?” There was just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Not much, feet up on the desk, watching Oprah. Oh, wait, they’re
interrupting the broadcast with a bulletin. Thomas Mullins and 12
year old Roger Goody have just killed the Butcher and saved a woman
from death. You mean that news…Tommy? Why do I have to learn about
this from the news?” Velma was hot.

“Sorry Velma, they’ve had me really nailed
down at police headquarters. I’m with Ed Tonelli, just ask him.”
Tonelli put up his hand in a stop motion and shook his head.

“I don’t want to ask him. I want to ask you.
Is Roger okay?”

“Yea, he’s okay, I guess. I haven’t seen him
in a few hours.”

“He’s probably traumatized the poor little
thing.” I understand the obsession with the little piece of shit.
He’s cute and polite. Woman love him. They don’t have to put up
with his shit.

“I’m fine, Aunt Velma. Thank you for
asking.”

“We’re out of business, did you know that
Tommy? We can’t conduct business. These people are relentless. The
phone hasn’t stop ringing. You don’t need a Private Detective
license, you need an agent! Are you sure the little angel is okay?
He’ll need years of counseling. Did you see the picture of him out
front of where it happened?”

“No Velma, I’ve been kind of tied up.”

We drove down my street. In front of our
houses there was standing room only with a crowd of people and
press. At least half a dozen satellite feed trucks were parked in
the road. There were two helicopters overhead. How did I not see
this coming? “Keep going Eddie, take me around back.”

Tonelli used his cell to call in support. He
listened and said, “Neighbors already called. This just started a
few minutes ago. You’re hot stuff, Bucko.”

I used my cell and called Roger. “Are you in
your house?”

“Yes, with Mom and Dad.”

“You did good today, boy.”

“Mr. Mullins, I was scared you were going to
be killed.”

“You were brave, Dude.”

“Oh, Mr. Mullins, you’re the brave one,” he
sobbed. “My Mom wants to speak to you Mr. Mullins.”

“Thomas?” Roger’s Mom, Ilene Goody had lived
next door to me since I was 10 years old. She is the nicest woman
in the world, a literature professor at San Francisco State.

“I’m sorry about all this, Ilene. I want to
come in and talk to you about it,” I said. “I’ll come in the back
door now.” Tonelli drove me up to the rear of the house. I thanked
him and told him I’d call him later. As I got out of the car, a
crowd of reporters came running and surrounded me.

“Tom, can you tell us what happened today?”
Men and woman were pushing microphones in my face and shouting
questions. I just shook my head.

“No comment,” as I pushed the crowd towards
Roger’s house. Two uniforms showed up and pushed the reporters away
allowing me to move to the door. I waved back at them and walked
into the house as Ilene, held the door. “That’s no fun,” I said as
I saw Roger and his Dad standing on the other side of the kitchen.
Bolo, their big Chesapeake Retriever jumped up on me and started
licking. Roger and I spent a lot of time with Bolo across the Great
Highway at the beach. “Hey Boy,” I said to him, putting him back on
all fours. He wanted more but I held him down. I kissed Ilene and
shook hands with Professor Bob. I bumped fists with Roger. “How you
doing? Look, I really want to apologize to you folks. I had no idea
this little surveillance thing was going to turn out like this. I’m
sorry Roger was in the middle of it.”

“I’m not. It was so cool,” Roger beamed.

“Let’s all go sit down in the living room,”
Ilene said.

The dog was licking my hand and tried to get
up on me when I sat down. I pushed him off and told him to sit. “He
wants a beach run,” I said to the others. “So what are you going to
do now that you’re famous, Roger?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Mullins.”

“I don’t know either, Roge. I looked at the
little family sitting across from me on the couch. Ilene ran her
fingers through Roger’s hair. Bob stared at me. “I’ll tell you one
thing. I don’t feel like a damn hero. I killed a guy this morning
and I feel like shit. Maybe I’m just exhausted after last night.
But, I just feel like shit, sorry Ilene.” She was sensitive to
profanity.

Bob crossed his legs and smiled. “We’re all
exhausted after last night. I can’t imagine what you’re going
through. You’re trained to do what you did. But just like a soldier
in combat, you never know till you actually experience it. I
suggest you give yourself a break. Admit to yourself that this is
painful and give yourself some time to heal.”

I put my hands on my face and couldn’t stop
it. I started crying. Ilene came to one side of me and Roger the
other and they hugged me. Goddamn it, like a little girl. I looked
up at Bob still seated with his legs crossed. He hadn’t moved.
“Alright, I admit it. Now, what do we do?” wiping the tears from my
face.

“Now you know you’re not prepared to…deal
with this. Maybe tomorrow you will be or next week or next year.”
Goddamn Bob always has the answers for personal issues. I take him
with a grain a salt though. He’s completely baffled by his son.
Roger pays no attention to him at all. I swear the guy has no
parental skills and teaches people how to deal with each other.

I could hear the helicopters above us. I
could hear the noise from the street. There were hundreds of people
around our homes. “Thomas, I had to disconnect the phone. It’s been
ringing constantly. We don’t know what to do. If we go out and talk
to them, will they go away?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “I’ve just been saying,
no comment. We could continue to do that. We’re not hiding anything
at this point. Although Roger, don’t talk about the video
surveillance on Hinton. That’s illegal and we could lose our
license. Just say we were watching him, when it comes up. The
Police know, I told them. I had to justify shooting the son of a
bitch. Sorry Ilene.”

“I know, Mr. Mullins,” Roger said.

I sat there thinking and said, “let me call
my attorney maybe he has a suggestion.” I’d been on the phone with
Dominic Laverney half a dozen times this afternoon with legal
questions during the debriefing. I’ve paid this guy a lot of money
over the last few years but damn it, he’s good. He answered on the
first ring, I put him on speaker “Dominic, we’re buried here,” I
said. I explained the situation.

He said, “I called your cell and by the way
your mailbox is full. You and little Roger are the most wanted
people in the world in this news cycle. You can’t possibly handle
this yourself. Turn all communication over to a public relations
company. I have the structure of a deal worked out for you. The PR
company will represent you in all business communication and even
negotiate the right opportunities for you. You probably need an
agent too.”

“What opportunities?”

“Oh my God, Tom, TV, books, movies. The world
is your oyster at this point. You need help.”

I called the PR company. Told them we were
hunkered down unable to move. I agreed on a fee for initial work
and had them send a contract back to the attorney for review for
future representation. Even though it was past 5 PM they would have
someone over inside an hour that could act as a spokesman for us. I
called Velma and told her about it and she agreed that it seemed
like a good plan. She wasn’t happy about spending money but she
never is.

Friday morning, our spokesperson read a
statement outlining what happened the day before. Our
representative, the owner of the public relations company
representing us answered questions and then asked the public to
respect our privacy over yesterday’s tragic events. Of course, they
didn’t. Roger and I were heroes. Everyone wanted to climb on board
that train with us. The press continued to sit outside our homes
and at the agency. The phone continued to ring at the office. I
should be happy, I thought. I was miserable. I finally threw in the
towel. I suggested Roger and his family try a weekend family
vacation. Packed a bag and headed north out of the city. Maybe,
drink a little vino. Change my mojo.

Chapter 6

The sign said Open but the parking lot was
empty at Limestone Vineyards in Sonoma. I walked in to the empty
tasting room. I heard someone moving around out back and I yelled,
“What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”

“Be right with you,” I heard a voice call.
The big bald headed guy came out with two trays of glasses. It
always amazed me how much the guy looked like my Dad. “Holy shit,
it’s little Tommy Mullins!” He came around the bar and gave me a
big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Uncle Billy.”

“The hero of the day. What are you doing
here?”

“Trying to get away from being the hero of
the day, I guess.”

“I can’t tell you how proud Mary and I are of
you, Tommy. You took out a very nasty piece of shit.”

“Yup, he was, Uncle Billy. I’m just not
feeling very good about it.”

He hugged me to him. “Tommy, it’s not an easy
thing to go through for most guys.” My Uncle had been a cop for 30
years too, starting in San Francisco and moving to Santa Rosa
before buying this small winery. “You did your job, end of story.
You’re a hero, whether you like it or not. How’s little Roger
taking it?”

“He seems to be fine.” Billy walked behind
the bar and poured two glasses.

“This new Cab is beautiful. French Oak for 18
months. The best we’ve ever done.” We clinked glasses and swirled
the wine around in the glass. Billy flipped open his cell and
placed a call. “Mary, Tommy’s here,” he spoke into the cell. “Yea,
he just walked in.” He smiled and listened while she spoke. “I
know! The hero arrives! I almost fell on the floor. Last person in
the world I thought I’d see. Why don’t you make us some sandwiches
and come down. Okay, darling. She’ll be down in a few minutes. I
want to hear all about it. I know you’re sick of telling it by now,
but this one’s for me.”

When my Aunt Mary arrived with the food, I
told them both about yesterday from the start with Roger and the
early morning FBI episode. “That was a day to remember, Tommy. No
wonder you feel burned out. Now where are you staying? You know
you’re welcome here.”

“Thanks Billy but I’m staying at my buddy’s
Scott’s house. He’s back east on business, but he’s giving me his
place.”