When the Killing Starts by Ted Wood Read Free Book Online

it's not." I was patient. "But trying to fillet me with that goddamn knife of his is a police matter. What I'm suggesting is that you talk to him, see if you can get him to talk. Then he can walk, as far as I'm concerned, and save you all that paperwork."
    "So you want us to do your job for you?"  
    "I want help in keeping the peace. That's why I was glad to see the blue suits turn up. These Freedom people are bad news. The kid could get blown away. He's a citizen, I'm a citizen. This guy here isn't. He's a Georgia cracker looking to kick anybody's ass he can reach."
    "I'll give him five minutes," he said. A sawoff.  
    "Should be enough. Want me along?"  
    "No. What's this kid's name who's missing?"  
    "Jason Michaels. He's twenty but kind of backward, dumb. Not fit to be looking after himself." That wasn't true, but it gave the detective something to believe in. Everybody needs a cause.
    "Go and sit down," he said. I went to a chair, well away from Wallace, and shrilled a low whistle at Sam. He came over and sat, and I patted his head and watched the detective work.
    I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could tell from the look on Wallace's face that he wasn't buying. He just sat and listened, not moving a muscle. He was angry, scared enough of the law that he wouldn't make a fuss, but he sure wasn't going to do any favors. He probably knew he would be let out on bail. A law-abiding citizen wouldn't, but a professional rebel would. He knew he could sit tight and wait for a bail hearing; then he would vanish.
    After a while he spoke, opening and shutting his mouth without moving anything else. The sure sign he wasn't giving us anything. The detective spoke again, then called me. I told Sam to stay and walked over, moving easily so Wallace would know I was a policeman, not an embarrassed visitor to the station.
    The detective said, "Your friend here says he never heard of Jason Michaels."
    I nodded and spoke to Wallace. "When did you get here?"
    He thought about it, wondering how far to go obstructing me.
    "Yesterday," he said at last. He was going to play the "I'd like to help, but" game.
    "With Dunphy?"
    "No." He'd been trained well. Number, rank, and name was all he would give up. Only he didn't have a number anymore.
    "Where did you meet up with him?"  
    "How'd ya mean?"
    "You're his instructor. I heard you say so. You're in this with him. I want to know where you met him yesterday."
    "Just bumped into him in a bar someplace. He offered me a job. I said, 'Sure.'" He shrugged.
    "Where did you come from?"  
    The detective was getting restless. This wasn't his case. If it had been, he might have been asking the same questions. Right now he wanted Wallace out of his life so he could get back to working through the cases on his desk. I ignored him. So did Wallace.
    "New York," he said easily. "Yeah, New York. I heard this was a nice friendly town, so I came up here to kick back for a spell. Then I met Dunphy and hung out with him."
    "You met him when?"
    "This evening, 'bout an hour before we came into that bar where you an' that kid was hangin' out."
    "What kid?" the detective asked me. I turned and gave him a "hold it" look.
    Wallace answered the question for him. "Some buddy o' his. Suckin' around this guy on account'f this guy's been in the Younited States Marines." He chuckled. "Kids."
    The detective was buying it, starting to see me as some kind of cowboy who worked on impressing civilians. I could tell by the way his stance changed. He leaned back on the counter as if to say, Go ahead, smart guy, let's see you do better.
    I cut the losses. "Okay, Wallace, if that's your name. You've been charged with assault with a deadly weapon, weapon dangerous to the public peace. Let's see you laugh yourself out of court in the morning." He chuckled again. Bravado. He didn't want to go inside, but he'd be damned if he'd let it show.
    I turned to the detective. "I'll give you a statement. Lock him up, please. And