Devil Red (17 page)

Read Devil Red Online

Authors: Joe R. Lansdale

60

“So,” I said, when we were seated on the couch, “you were just in the neighborhood.”

“You don’t have any vodka?”

“No. You already asked.”

“A beer?”

“Nope.”

I had given her a diet soda, and she was sipping it. I was so nervous I was about to vibrate out of the room. She seemed very casual. We had turned off the main lights. She thought it a good idea, in case anyone was watching the house, waiting for it to blow.

The only light on now was the little plastic fish-shaped light plugged into the kitchen outlet over the counter. The light from it stretched into the living room, but it was faint and soft.

“You didn’t get blown up, so they’ll come back,” Vanilla said.

“Are you Devil Red as well as Vanilla Ride?”

“Devil Red,” she said. “That’s a funny name.”

“So is Vanilla Ride.”

“That’s the name I was given,” she said. “Devil Red, that’s made up.”

“But you know who I’m talking about?”

“I do. And we can use that term if you like.”

“Considering you tried to kill me before, you’re awfully pleasant.”

“I’m always pleasant.”

“I’ve seen you less pleasant.”

“Oh, come on, Hap. Let bygones be bygones. We made up, remember.”

“We never quarreled. And still, you tried to kill me.”

“Killing people for money. It’s what I do.”

“Look, Vanilla, my brother may be dying. Someone shot him. Someone is gonna die if I have my way. If that’s you, or whoever—”

“It’s not me. But it is …” She hesitated as she worked the words around in her mouth. “Devil Red.”

“All right, now I know. I just have to find him.”

She looked at me and smiled faintly. “You’re not up to it, Hap. You’re not up to me.”

“So, why are you here? Tell me where I can find Devil Red, and let me get about my business, up to it or not.”

“Don’t you wonder how I knew you were in trouble?”

“It’s not high on my priority list right now.”

“Let’s put it there. Jimson called me.”

By then, of course, I knew that if she had seen me beside the road, that it was her who had given Jimson a visit. But I didn’t let on. I wanted to hear it from her.

“I thought he was afraid of you,” I said.

“He wanted me and him to be friends. He wanted me to know the whole thing about deciding to have me killed was just business.”

“How’d you take that?” I said.

“I understood his position. I understand business. I would probably have just taken the job he was offering me if it hadn’t been you.”

“Why are you so concerned about my welfare?”

She studied me for a moment. “I seem to be infatuated with you.”

“Me?”

“Go figure.”

“I’m just a middle-aged guy going to seed. What’s the attraction?”

“The same your girlfriend Brett has, I suppose. She’s some looker, Hap.”

“You know about her too?”

“I know all kinds of things about you. I’ve made it a point to know. Once I was supposed to kill you, remember? I did my research.”

“Nothing like research,” I said.

“Jimson, he wanted me to kill you and Leonard. I told him I didn’t want to. But not before I went to see him. I was in Shreveport when I got the message through contacts. I was finishing up a little job there. Nicely done, I might add. I told him I’d come see him pretty soon.”

“You got close to Jimson pretty easy. I’d have thought he was nervous about that, considering your past.”

“He had never seen me before. He just contacted me. He knew how to do that through certain parties. I’ve known about his habits for over a year. I keep tabs on my old connections, just in case they decide to be trouble. Anyway, I went there, this little station where he spends time. He didn’t know me. He saw me. He wanted to know me. That happens to me a lot.”

“I bet.”

“Why thank you. He had his two bodyguards with him. I sat down. He bought me a cup of coffee, started his hustle. Thought he might get some tail. And then I told him who I was.”

“How’d he take it?”

“Surprised. I think he expected me to be huskier. He knew Vanilla Ride was a woman, but he had me pegged different.”

“Yeah, you don’t look the part. You look more like a James Bond villain.”

“That’s so sweet. He immediately started saying how trying to have me killed was all business, and could I take care of you and Leonard, since it didn’t work out last time. He offered me double. Do you realize how many pounds of dope and how many whores he’d have to run to pay me as much as he offered me?”

“I don’t know how much he offered.”

Vanilla smiled. When she did, she almost looked like a cherub. “Let’s just say it was a lot.”

“All right, let’s say that,” I said. “So how’s this story end?”

“Quit pulling my leg, Hap. I said I passed you. You were there. You know how it ends. I told them no, and then I shot them all.”

“All of them?”

“You know that too. But, just in case you like to hear it. All of them.”

“You shot the thin man first, didn’t you?” I said.

“I did. He’s the one that actually looked like trouble. But no. He wasn’t any trouble at all. He was quick, but I was quicker. Then I shot Jimson, and then I shot the big man with all the muscles. For the hell of it, I shot the guy behind the counter. The coffee he brought me sucked.”

“Yeah, coffee there isn’t too good,” I said. “Didn’t that cause a stir, all that shooting?”

“No one else was in the place. Lucky for them. A twenty-two is pretty quiet compared to a larger gun. I didn’t have a silencer. I’ve used them for some guns, but not this one. Doesn’t work well on it. Four shots. Four dead, and I was out of there.” She sat up straight when she told me that, like a proud girl in class who had just answered a hard question.

“You did that for me?”

“I did it for me. I didn’t like him. And I didn’t want to shoot you and Leonard. Leonard, maybe. But you, no.”

“So you were supposed to come after us for Jimson. And Devil Red is after us because we’ve been snooping.”

“That’s pretty much it,” she said. “But you got this figured. I can tell the way your eyes light up.”

“I know some of it,” I said, “but a lot of it is guesswork.”

She nodded. “Jimson put Devil Red on you two as well. He wanted me for backup. The whole thing is he wanted me and Devil Red on you guys because you were so hard to kill last time.”

“For that I refuse to apologize.”

“This time Leonard was easy for Devil Red.”

“He dropped his guard,” I said. “He had shopping for cookies on his mind.”

“He’s tough, and so are you, but this isn’t his profession, and it’s not yours. Me, it’s what I do.”

“I bet your mother is proud.”

“I wouldn’t know. Way I think Jimson had it planned is he also hired Devil Red to take me out. I don’t think he forgave as easy as he said, business or not. He was scared of me.”

“And for good reason.”

“He told me to take out Devil Red. So I think he thought he’d get rid of one connection one way or another. If it left Devil Red, not so bad. He didn’t have an ugly history there. If it left me, well, he paid me off and he probably thought that would soothe things over between us and he wouldn’t be worried about looking over his shoulder for me. He probably thought if Devil Red was out of the picture, that would just be one less connection to him. In time, maybe he thought he’d get me.”

“So, I’m not worth as much as you led me to believe. It was a combination job.”

“Pretty much. But still, you and Leonard, you were worth a lot. You can take some pride in that.”

“Oh, goodie. But now Devil Red is after you.”

“The guy that would pay them, he’s not around anymore.”

“Then why bother with me and Leonard?”

“That’s personal. You may have already been on their list, and with you talkin’ to Jimson, and him talkin’ to them, that sealed it. You know, he was quite a talker. I think I made him nervous. He told me all about you and wantin’ to know about Devil Red. The whole nine yards … You know why I didn’t take the job to kill Devil Red?”

“Because you shot the guy who was going to pay you,” I said. She wrinkled her brows. “Well, yeah. There’s that. But also there was this: I didn’t want to kill Devil Red, because I know them.”

“Them?”

“You’ve met them. Mr. Kincaid and his former wife, Ms. Clinton.”

61

I couldn’t have been more surprised if I had just discovered Jesus had sent me a Christmas present of the Holy Ghost with a personal note signed “Love and kisses.”

“The old man and his ex-wife?” I said. “They’re Devil Red?”

“Isn’t that a kick?”

“Can’t be.”

“Can and is. Where do you think I learned my craft?”

“Them?”

“Oh, Hap, you are so cute when your jaw is on the floor. Yes. Them. Let me tell you something. Mr. Kincaid, he looks like hell, but actually, he’s quite spry and doesn’t need the chair or oxygen. Sometimes, garbed up like that, he uses it to get close to people. Who expects an old-looking man in a wheelchair breathing through a tube to be a killer?”

“You’re foolin’ with me, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to fool with you, but no.”

“And my client’s son? His girlfriend’s mother and stepfather. You know anything about that?”

She held up her hand and spread her thumb and forefinger. “Teeny bit,” she said. “Mr. Kincaid and Ms. Clinton have a kind of get them all and poison the well attitude. My guess is Mini’s stepfather—”

“Bert.”

“Whatever. He made a wild guess they were involved, stirred them up, like you did, and they took him out. The mother, she was probably an accident. They tried to kill Leonard. You’re next. I wouldn’t be surprised if they went after your employer.”

“Marvin?”

She nodded. “Maybe your redhead. Anyone associated with you.”

“Did Jimson know Kincaid and Clinton were Devil Red?”

“He didn’t really know who I was. Just my reputation. But he knew how to contact the ones you’re calling Devil Red. And he did. And he contacted me. But did he know Mr. Kincaid and Ms. Clinton were in fact Devil Red? … No.”

“You said Kincaid and Clinton trained you? There’s people who do that? That’s not exactly a college course.”

Vanilla shifted her long legs seductively and leaned forward a little.

“Some people find the job naturally. Others have it thrust upon them. I had it thrust upon me and took to it naturally. I developed my own style, my own way. But they were my mentors. I am who I am, and I have come to embrace it. I’m almost the best there is.”

“Almost?”

“There are my instructors.”

I knew how good Vanilla was, and that made me realize even more what I was up against. I said, “Why would anyone want to raise you to kill?”

“Family business. Though I doubt you could call us a real family. There was never what you would call love, whatever that is. But there was affection of a sort, like you might have for a goldfish, I suppose. I don’t know. Never had a pet. There was also another reason. They were a kind of factory. I wasn’t the only well-trained and well-oiled cog in their machine. There were others.”

“Jesus,” I said.

“He didn’t train there,” Vanilla said. “Once we knew the trade, they hired us out. Male and female. Prostitutes of Death they called us. We got a cut of the kill, and they got the bulk. I didn’t know it was unfair for a few years, us making so little. I was fifteen when I made my first hit. I wasn’t even scared.”

“It didn’t bother you?”

“I didn’t know the man I killed, so no. I’m not sure it would have bothered me if I had known him. Hell, Hap. He could have been my father. He was the right age. I don’t even know why they wanted him killed. It didn’t matter to me.”

I let that soak in. I said, “Kincaid had a second wife, right? What did she think about all this?”

“She was unaware of the business. An airhead. She bore him two children. Ms. Clinton couldn’t have children. There was an arrangement. He cared for his wife, but Mr. Kincaid really cared for Ms. Clinton. Maybe it was love. I don’t know. I’m a little confused on that issue, Hap. They never really stopped being together. There was a house in town for the wife, and an estate in the country where he and Ms. Clinton spent their time. Where I was trained.”

“You call them Mr. and Ms.?”

“That’s how I was taught. I can’t think of them any other way. But this isn’t about me. This is about you, Hap. You and Leonard. Though they may have already punched his ticket. They’ll wait and see. Why take an extra chance? It’s my bet he never even saw his shooter. They’re too good for that. But if he doesn’t die, they’ll be back to finish the job. And there’s you.”

“They leave a devil’s head at the scene of their murders, staged events. Why? Why leave any indication?”

“Did Picasso sign his work?”

“They see it as an art?” I asked.

“You could say that. So do I. But I don’t sign my work. They don’t if time and situation doesn’t permit. But they are proud of their craft. After years of doing something well, on some level, they want to be recognized, not caught. It was also a way they could challenge anyone trying to discover them. Here’s our calling card. Respond if you can.”

“So you deserted them at some point.”

“Most do. It’s the way of the job. They always have a few who live on the grounds. People who protect the place and them. They saw us as their retirement. But they haven’t quit. They won’t retire.”

“No one should be raised to be a killer,” I said.

“You could say I was exploited. But it has given me a livelihood. And I am an artist.”

“You’re a killer, Vanilla. That’s all.”

“For me it beats being a teacher or a nurse. No offense to your redhead.”

“Plenty taken.”

I thought I saw her blink when I said that, but it could have been the light.

“And you?” she said.

“What exactly are you?”

“I suppose I’m the same as you.”

She looked at me for a long moment. Her face seemed so soft, her lips so kissable. She was mesmerizing. I sat farther back from her.

“You’re not like me at all, Hap. You’re not even close. For me, there’s no passion in the act. It is what it is, and I do it artistically. That’s what makes me second to them. They are still passionate about their work. And you, you’re no artist and you don’t do it for money. You have reasons, views. I don’t get that.”

“And you’re telling me all this because …?”

“I don’t know really. I feel we have a connection. Do you feel it?”

“I do.”

“What is it exactly?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Maybe that’s it,” she said.

“I hope not. All I know is, I have to get them. They shot my friend.”

“He means that much to you?” she said, turning her head slightly, as if trying to position herself to believe that idea.

“He does.”

“They’ll kill you.”

“Maybe.”

“They’re better than you,” she said. “I’m better than you.”

“The chips aren’t down yet,” I said.

Vanilla shook her head slowly. “No. It won’t work out for you.”

“Just tell me where to find them and when.”

“I don’t know when, and I won’t tell you where.”

“You think I can’t find out where they live? If I can’t do it myself, I have friends who can. I’ll find them. I’m asking you to speed up matters.”

“I’m not one to betray.”

“They betrayed you,” I said. “They took a child and made a killer. You may not think that matters now, but maybe some part of you knows that isn’t the life you had to have. It can’t be that good a life.”

I watched her face. It revealed nothing.

“It was you who got snookered, baby,” I said. “The fact you came to me means you feel something other than professionalism. And if you think you’re helping me by not telling me where they are, all you’re doing is giving me a reprieve. They’ll get to me eventually. At some point, it’ll be me and them.”

“Run.”

“I’m not into running.”

“Man’s got to do what a man’s go to do, huh?” Vanilla said.

“Something like that. If you’re not going to help me, then leave and let me get about my business. And thanks for the warning.”

Vanilla set the diet soda can on the coffee table, careful to make it fit into one of Brett’s coasters. “Do you have weapons?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“They certainly do. And they probably have at least two bodyguards on the grounds. Maybe more. And dogs.”

“Dogs.”

She nodded. “Yep. And a security camera.”

“Oh, good. And do the Mummy and the Wolf Man work for them too?”

“There you’re safe.”

“That’s a relief.”

“And consider this. They may or may not be home. If they were here earlier, it would take them almost two hours to go back to the estate. It’s on this side of Houston. In the woods. A hundred acres or so. They would be there by now if they went home. But you don’t know. It’s a gamble.”

“What isn’t,” I said. “You gonna help me, or not?”

“Get a pen and paper,” she said, “and I’ll draw you a map. But when I do, it’s like me signing your death warrant.”

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