I
Sailor’s Wharfside Café neons struggled against darkness. One announced “Cocktails.” Another spluttered “ aster Car .”
A gunshot disturbed silent pilings.
An off-duty Homicide cop, I was already close when I got the call. I didn’t rush to the scene.
“Where’s the stiff?” I asked when I arrived.
I was directed to a pierside spotlight. “That’s the man found with the body, Sergeant. Trevor Brickman. And the weapon.”
II
“Mr. Brickman, is it? Tell me what happened.”
“Detective, I told the officers. I left the restaurant. Turned the corner. Heard a loud noise.”
“Gunshot.”
“I didn’t know that. Saw a man staggering, falling.”
“And another man running away.”
“A big man.”
“Describe the big man.”
“He was running away. It was raining. Wore a coat.”
“How big?”
“Maybe your size.”
“Tall?”
“Taller than me. As tall as you. Maybe.”
“See the man’s face?”
“Couldn’t. He was already running away. I went to help the man.”
“The one staggering?”
“Yes. There was blood, lots of blood. And a gun.”
“Which you picked up. Smart move. And you, a fiction writer.”
“Sure, it was a mistake. I picked it up. I was shocked.”
“The victim say anything.”
“Beyond that, then, I think.”
“Why’d you fire the weapon?
“Coming up behind me, the officers startled me. In reflex, I pulled the trigger.”
“Because the runaway boogie man came back for his piece?”
“No. Maybe. I dunno. I’m telling the truth.”
“What kind of fiction do you write?”
“True crime.”
“You write about murder? In your novels?”
“All I murdered was that tugboat right there. That’s what I hit.”
“We got you. We got a weapon. GSR, sure thing. We just need motive.”
“Motive? What reason would I have, Detective?”
“Why were you here?”
“Just finished dinner in the restaurant. I live across the street.”
“Pretty seedy neighborhood for a writer.”
“I’m researching my expose.”
“Dangerous place to live. Maybe this guy tried to mug you?”
“No.”
“He’s a known bad guy. ID says he’s Vinny Cincano. You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Vinny didn’t pull heat on you? You wrestled him for it? It went off?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Okay. You know how it goes in the movies.”
“What?”
“Don’t leave town.”
III
“So, Mister Brickman. Here’s what we discovered.”
“You found the murderer?”
“We think so.”
“Good.”
“Vinny’s a criminal. You’re a respected author. Weird but respected.”
“That’s right. I’m an author.”
“You knew Vinny. You had dinner at Sailor’s. You paid. Receipt says so.”
“Look. Mr. Cincano was giving me background material.”
“You argued. We have witnesses. He roughed you up in the restaurant.”
“Okay,. Yes. But I didn’t follow Vinny, Mr. Cincano. I didn’t murder the man.”
“We think you did. And that’s what we’re charging you with. The DA may disagree. Murder or manslaughter. Up to him. Maybe your attorney can argue you struggled after Vinny pulled the gun. It went off accidentally.”
Uniforms booked Brickman. The little mishap wrapped-up quickly and neatly. Fortunate for me. It cancelled the twenty large I owed Vinny.
© 2024 spwilcenski (3/15/2024 “Fiction”)
exposed by spwilcenwrites “Up For a Littlle Flash Noir? – March 16, 2024”
Ramblings 