"Murder Is But A Memory" drabbles by Christopher

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 150

Murder Is But A Memory

Rocco got out of the car and stretched his arms up, like he hadn't been out of the car since they left Pasadena; maybe he hadn't. Sal got out and pulled Diana out and to her feet. He looked at Rocco and said, "Get the provisions. We may be here a while."

Rocco shook his head, "Why can't you help me?"

"Because someone's gotta watch the dame, dumbass!"

I crouched in back of a crate that was near the corner behind the door. I needed to take them on one by one. So I had to get out to Rocco...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 149

Murder Is But A Memory

I rushed as quietly as I could to the back door and peered out the window. It was Sal's and Rocco's Buick Roadmaster!

Rocco pulled up near the concrete steps in front of the door. I could see Diana in the backseat with Sal. I fully intended to kill them both if they had hurt Diana in any way. But they knew Vic wanted her back, for whatever reason, so I was pretty confident she hadn't been harmed. She just looked scared out of her mind. After all she had been through lately no one could blame her for that...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 148

Murder Is But A Memory

1:00 pm: I sat waiting, twiddling my thumbs, worrying about Diana, wondering if I had made the wrong choice.

2:00 pm: I had an interesting conversation with a rat about half the size of a loaf of bread. I wanted his opinion on my decision to wait here. He seemed indifferent to my plight. He made a noise, sounding like the rat equivalent of an expletive, and then ran off.

3:00 pm: I was beginning to think I had really made the wrong choice. I was about 5 minutes from heading back to Vic's when I heard a car outside...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 147

Murder Is But A Memory

I turned the door knob very slowly to see if it was locked. It wasn't, so I eased inside. I was pretty sure the place was empty, but there were some crates stacked up at varying intervals, so I still had to be quiet until I was sure there was no one there but me and the rats. I peeked around the crates until I could see no one was hiding behind them. Then I made my way to the office in the back right corner of the building and checked there. The place was empty.

And so I waited...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 146

Murder Is But A Memory

It was a dark warehouse. The only light inside came from the rectangular windows on the front of the building. They shone two shafts of light down from the edge of the ceiling into the quiet warehouse. You could see the dust particles wafting around, playing tag with one another in the noon sunlight.

Other than the occasional rat I saw scurrying along the wall, there was no life. I wondered if I should wait here for a while longer or go back to Vic's and pound the casino chips out of him.

My gut says wait. So, I wait...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 145

Murder Is But A Memory

The warehouse was a brick job, looking to be at least 10 years old. There were some rectangular windows up near the roof, a couple of garage doors in front, and a loading dock on the side I noticed as I drove around the back and parked the car behind a delivery truck that looked like it hadn't moved since a week before we bombed Hiroshima.

I exited the car, making my way to the back of the warehouse. There was a door with a small square window in it. I walked up the little concrete steps and looked inside...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 144

Murder Is But A Memory

I followed Mallory's directions. The warehouse was at the edge of the town of Henderson, down at the end of a side road. Henderson boomed during the Second World War because of the Basic Magnesium Plant, which supplied the War Department with about a quarter of the magnesium used for incendiary munitions casings and airplane engines, frames, and other parts. After the war, 14,000 of the plant's workers were relocated, rendering Henderson a partial ghost town. I saw many vacant shops and houses on my way to the warehouse where I sincerely hoped Diana would be or was being brought...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 143

Murder Is But A Memory

I peeled out of Mallory's driveway in his excrement-brown colored 1949 De Soto. I grabbed its key from the kitchen counter on my way out. My car was still in front of Diana's apartment. And my gun was still in the glove box of that car. I knew then I had to start keeping it on me at all times, even though after the war I swore I'd never walk around with a gun on me all the time.

I made quick tracks to the town of Henderson, and prayed all the way that's where they were keeping Diana.

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 142

Murder Is But A Memory

I got the address of Vic's warehouse from the doc and then turned back as I was leaving.

"You know, Doc, I actually kinda like you," I said with a smile.

"Well," he said, returning a smile as he motioned with his eyes toward his arms, still bound to the chair, "how about unstrapping me?"

"I said I like you, Doc. I didn't say I trusted you. I can't be sure that you wouldn't pick up the phone and make a call to old Vicky boy as soon as I leave. If I live, I'll come back and free you."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 141

Murder Is But A Memory

"Listen, Doc, do you have any idea where Vic might take Diana? Her life is in jeopardy, whether from Vic or from the hit man."

Mallory looked around. I knew he was trying to decide what was more important: his position and standing with Vic or a young woman's life. He was a better man than I initially gave him credit for.

"Vic has a warehouse in Henderson. It's about halfway between here and Vegas. It's the only one left that the Feds aren't monitoring. That would be the only place I can think of where he might stash her."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 140

Murder Is But A Memory

I looked at my watch. It was 10:47AM. I could've just made it to L.A. to get the money and have been back by 5, but if they found Diana and were bringing her back to Vic, then I had to find out where they were keeping her and rescue her. I didn't trust Vic Stane any further than I could throw him.

The only thing saving Diana is the fact that Vic needed that money, and he knew one or the other of us knew where it was. I just had to get to Diana before Lanyard got Vic.

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 139

Murder Is But A Memory

Mallory was already in this thing, so I figured I would level with him.

"Doc, Diana is on the run and she's scared to death. Vic sent his goons to find her and they ran her off the side of a mountain and damn near killed her. When she came to she had amnesia. She has no idea who she is, and knows nothing other than being convinced that someone was trying to kill her."

Mallory shook his head, "Well, if she can't produce that money by 5:00 PM this evening, Vic's a goner. That's how long Lanyard gave him."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 138

Murder Is But A Memory

I was trying to piece things together.

"So, let me guess: Vic paid the $250,000.00 before the hit and was to pay the other half when the job was done?"

Mallory nodded the entire time I was speaking.

"Exactly, Randolph. But, for some reason, Diana ran away and took the other 250 grand with her. It wasn't like her. As far as I could tell, she really loved Vic. If she knew what that money was for then she was practically signing Vic's death warrant. Because if Lanyard doesn't get the rest of his money..."

"Vic is toast," I said...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 137

Murder Is But A Memory

Mallory continued.

"Enter Paul Lanyard. He was a guy Vic knew from the old days in Chicago. Anyway, Lanyard has carved out quite a reputation for himself as a hired killer, with some very difficult kills in his portfolio. The trouble is his fee is $500,000.00, and with the authorities shutting down some of Vic's operations and freezing his assets, he had to call in a lot of favors and sell off half of what he owned to get the money. All the casino profits lately were ploughed back into the running of the place, so he couldn't use that."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 136

Murder Is But A Memory

"I can imagine," I said.

"Anyhow, the Feds had Frankie in witness protection locked up tighter than a nun's underpants. So, Vic had to hire a professional killer to take Frankie out."

I looked puzzled, "Doesn't the Mob have their own people for those sorts of things?"

Mallory shook his head, "They wouldn't sanction the hit. They were basically hanging Vic out to dry."

I smirked, "There really is no honor among thieves, is there?"

Mallory continued talking, "As a result, Vic had to look elsewhere for a hit man capable enough to whack a witness under maximum security protection."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 135

Murder Is But A Memory

"The Feds," Mallory continued, "had trapped Frankie on some minor charges and hauled him in. Then, according to someone on the inside that's on Vic's payroll, they started turning the screws on him, telling him they were going to charge him with every death since General Custer. Frankie always was a few pills short of a prescription. He believed them. He agreed to turn state's evidence in exchange for full immunity from prosecution."

I smiled and said sarcastically, "I suppose that made Vic really happy."

Mallory nodded quickly, "Vic went absolutely nuts; wanted to kill everyone Frankie ever even knew."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 134

Murder Is But A Memory

Mallory knew he may as well tell it all. Vic was going to kill him for sure for what he'd already revealed. I figured the doc had one part of his brain focused on telling me the story and the other part on making his getaway plans.

"This all started," Mallory said, "a year ago. The state police and the Feds weren't making any inroads with their intent to bring down Vic, so they went after his second in command, Frank DiNuccio."

"Frank DiNuccio? Didn't I see his name in the papers?"

Mallory nodded, "Yeah, probably in the obituary column."

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 133

Murder Is But A Memory

The needle had just penetrated the skin when he started sobbing. I think he'd finally been broken.

"How long was I out, Doc?"

"About six hours," he said with utter resignation in his voice.

I shook my head, "That means they could already have gotten her and been back by now."

He nodded, his chin bobbing up and down on his chest as his head hung low.

"What's this all about, Doc? You might as well tell me. I'm up to my damn nipples in this thing now."

I went to the table in the corner and leaned against it...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 132

Murder Is But A Memory

"Alright, Doc, I don't have time to listen to you prevaricate, so you have ten seconds to tell me how long I was out or I'm going to shoot you up with whatever it is I just loaded into this syringe."

"Listen, Randolph..."

"Ten...," I yelled.

"You don't understa..."

"Nine..."

"Randolph!"

"Eight..."

"Will you listen..."

"Seven..."

"I'm trying to tell..."

"Six..."

"Stop counting!"

"Five..."

"For God's sake, Randol..."

"Four..."

"Will you shut up..."

"Three..."

"Vic will kill..."

"Two..."

"Dammit, Randolph!"

"One," I said as I walked toward him, grabbed his arm, and pressed the end of the needle into it...

Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 131

Murder Is But A Memory

I walked over to Mallory and slapped his face back and forth a few times.

"How long was I out?" I asked as I grabbed his hair and raised his slumping head up to look at me.

"Go to hell," he said. The man obviously had more moxie than I would've ever thought.

"You first," I said rather menacingly as I picked up the syringe and went looking for anything to fill it with.

I found a few bottles on a shelf and grabbed one and filled the syringe with it. He looked very frightened as I came toward him...