The Girl in White Pajamas (31 page)

“How?”

“He and that fuck’n Matt. They had this scheme. They were going to burn this place down with me in it and collect all the insurance money. All their problems would be solved. Bud would have money, that bitch, a little girl and a new baby. Matt, the greedy bastard, would have money to get himself out of deep hock. I guess it costs a lot to fuck all the big-time bimbos! Matt kept pushing, saying he needed the money fast. Bud told him to hold off till he was sure Miss Sugar Tits wasn’t going to get rid of the kid.” Jeannie thrust her large breasts forward as though she were bumping chests with an invisible pal but then forgot why she was in that awkward position. She continued, “Matt kept whining about his house getting foreclosed so he had Bud go to the old lady to get a chunk of money until they could get rid of me and the house and have a big payday! ”

As Rose listened to this conversation, she pressed a button on her cell phone. “Pop, tell Chief Duggan it’s time to pick MacDonald up. He’s up to his eyeballs in this shit!”

“How do you know all this?” Bogie asked Jeannie.

Her laugh was mirthless. “I listened to them. I had bugs in the apartment. I listened to them plotting and scheming. They got this gook to stay at that whore’s house so they could watch her and make sure she didn’t use a coat hanger and get rid of his precious kid. He had a precious kid once, and she’s dead!”

“So you tried to kill her?”

Jeannie took a slug from the glass, coughed then said, “Sure. I figured I could shoot the bitch right in front of him and he couldn’t do a goddamned thing about it. I wanted him to know he wasn’t having any kids with her...ever. And if he wanted me to tell that to the cops, I would.” Jeannie tried to point at Bogie for emphasis but her index finger twirled off to the side. Then she continued, “I’d also tell the cops how he and MacDonald planned to kill me. That fucker brought six gallons of gasoline here and put them in the basement! They’re still down there!”

“Bud?”

“No! Pay attention, cowboy! MacDonald. Bud was always a momma’s boy. He wouldn’t do anything unless Matt was there egging him on. That fuck’n Matt’s a sicko! He killed that little chink right out in the yard.”

“How do you know this?” Bogie asked.

“I saw him! Right out in broad daylight! That asshole was driving by there almost every day, and none of you even knew it. I was watching him, watching you, watching them. He used the
wifey’s
car.” Jeannie started laughing and gagging. “Wait till that bitch opens her trunk!
Suh-plize
! The little gook’s all wrapped up and the shovel he killed her with is right beside her!”

Rose watched Matt below. He talked to two uniformed cops before walking around the back of the house toward the cellar. She called George Washington. “Stop, Matt MacDonald. I think he’s got a key to the cellar. Don’t let him go in. He’s got gasoline down there. He’ll set the house on fire! He’ll blow the house up!”

George Washington gingerly stepped around the side of the house and came up behind Matt as he was about to put a key in the basement door. “Don’t do that!” George said as he pressed Matt against the door. “I’m not glad to see you. This
is
a gun in my pocket!”

“I’m a cop.”

“Good for you!”

“Stand down!” The deep baritone voice resonated behind the men. When George Washington glanced back, he saw the Chief of Detectives, Jack Duggan.

George Washington stepped aside. “Chief!”

“Washington, I’m glad to see you’re keeping busy in your retirement.” The large, pewter-haired man smiled. “MacDonald, please come with me. These men have some questions for you.” He gestured to two large stone-faced men standing behind him.

“I didn’t— ” Matt started to protest.

“Just move away from the door and slowly remove your gun.”

Bogie studied Jeannie and asked, “So why’d you try to kill her after Bud was dead?”

“She pissed me off! The whore! It was her fault he was dead. Then I saw the kid. She’s a lot like Jennifer.” Tears welled in Jeannie’s eyes. “I figured she’ll have another one so I’ll take this one. She stole my husband, I’ll steal her kid. Besides, I wanted her to suffer like I’ve suffered thinking about my little girl. That’s worse than death!”

“Were you the one who screwed around with the brake lines in her car?”

Jeannie nodded.

“And shot out her living room window?”

Jeannie nodded again and chortled.

“But you killed the cat
before
Bud was shot.”

“I was warning her off. I called her, but she didn’t get the message.”

“The cat wasn’t hers. It belonged to Isabella. She loved that cat. It made her very sad when—”

“Shut the fuck up about the goddamned cat!”

“And Angel and the delivery guy? You didn’t even know them, why’d you kill them? You could have tased them. And her sword. You took her sword—”

“She’s a kid, she shouldn’t have—” At that moment, Isabella sprang from her chair and ran toward Jeannie with her teeth bared. Stunned, Jeannie watched as the child leaped through the air and twisted her body extending her leg. As Isabella started to move, Bogie spun forward and kicked Jeannie’s arm with such force, the bones shattered. The gun dropped to the floor. As he lunged toward Jeannie, Isabella knocked her head backward with her leg. Jeannie and the chair crashed back, and Jeannie’s head struck the floor. Bogie bent down, his right hand went to her throat, and he opened his mouth to speak. At that moment, Isabella lifted her Bokken sword from the floor, pulled it from the sheath and plunged it into Jeannie’s right eye. As blood spurted from Jeannie’s eye, it also poured from her carotid artery. Bogie and Isabella looked at each other. They were both splattered with blood. Jeannie convulsed on the floor. Bogie reached over and grabbed the little warrior with his left hand as his right hand bled from the razor-sharp blades which he’d attached to two fingers. Bogie held her in his arms and wept. Tears streamed down his face as he carried Isabella from the room. Isabella patted his back while he slipped on his boots. “Don’t cry, Da-dee. Everything’s okay now!”

Rose and Jesus hugged each other. The embrace was interrupted by Rose’s phone ringing. “Amanda, your father’s all right. Yes, I’m sure. He hasn’t come out yet, but he’s okay. Yes, she’s okay too…No, I haven’t seen him yet, but I was listening all the time he was in there. Yes, he killed her…Yes, yes I know, he
is
a crazy bastard!”

As Isabella sat on the top step studying the bullet riddled walls and carnage, Bogie grabbed his tee shirt, wiped his face and then wrapped the shirt around his bleeding right hand. Bogie saw Isabella staring at the red line down the center of his chest. He smiled, ripped the wire off his skin and winced. He removed an ear bud as she smiled. Bogie hurriedly put on his boxer shorts. He bundled up the remaining clothing and tossed everything in the gym bag. Reaching in the bag, he switched on his phone and called Rose. “We’re ready to come out, Rose!”

“You crazy—”

Bogie closed the phone, held his daughter and carried her and all the equipment to the window. “We’re going down the ladder, Pumpkin.”

George Washington’s black face appeared in the window, and Bogie smiled. “If you get this stuff, I’ll take her down.”

As Bogie moved down the ladder wearing his boxer shorts and work boots with Isabella’s arms wrapped around his neck, cameras rolled and pictures snapped. When Catie Christenson commented, “Wow! Who’s your Daddy? I wouldn’t mind this hottie rescuing me!” the human interest story started writing itself. But when the reporter overheard Isabella tell John Washington she killed the monster with her sword, Catie and the other reporters went into a frenzy trying to talk to the little girl in white pajamas.

Speculation grew as Chief Duggan had the child and her father whisked away in an ambulance followed by members of the R&B Investigations team.

THE END

It was almost midnight and other businesses in the area were closed. Only R&B Investigations was lit up. Men were clustered around the reception area talking in low tones. Angel was really dead, and their leader was locked in her office and wouldn’t speak to anyone.

When Bogie came through the front door, they all looked up and went to him. He assured them his bandaged hand would heal in a week or so. Bogie looked tired. He refused to speak to the police until his attorney arrived. He would not allow Isabella to be questioned alone. The standoff was finally over, Bailey and Isabella were at the Four Seasons, and Bogie was exhausted.

He walked down the hall and banged on her door. “Rose, open the door or I’ll kick it in.” After a long silence, he heard the click and walked in as she stood glaring at him.

Enraged she grabbed his bandaged hand and squeezed it. “Does that hurt?” she hissed. As Bogie winced, she made a fist and punched his upper arm, then punched it again as he stood there. Finally, she covered her face and sobbed. “You stupid bastard!
That
was your plan? You put your life in the hands of a three year old child! You are insane!”

He held her and let her cry. When she started to calm down, he picked up a box of tissues and handed them to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “You scared the shit out of me! I couldn’t believe my ears. You telling this little child how she was a warrior and she should sit and pretend to be tied until you gave her a signal with your what…hands?”

“Fingers.”

“Then you stood there pissing off Jeannie and egging on the kid.”

He nodded then said softly, “I didn’t have a choice. She had an arsenal in there. Even if she let me go, she wasn’t giving up Isabella.”

“I thought you were going to restrain her.”

“That was the plan.”

“What went wrong?”

“I wanted Isabella to distract her. I was sure Jeannie didn’t expect her to move
and
wouldn’t shoot her. Isabella took her part very seriously. She ran toward Jeannie and surprised her. I knew by the look on her face that Isabella was going to leap so I kicked the gun out of Jeannie’s hand. Isabella knocked her backwards, and I grabbed Jeannie’s throat. I was just about to tell Jeannie to give it up when Isabella picked up that sword and jammed it through Jeannie’s eye socket. She pushed the sword right in like this.” He positioned his arm at a forty-five degree angle. When Rose winced, he continued, “At that point, I was fully committed. I had to finish the job. I couldn’t let a child live with that.”

Rose blew her nose again. “And you told all this to the cops?”

Bogie shook his head. “I told them she tripped and the sword went into the eye.”

“And they bought it?”

“They have no choice. No matter what she says, she’s a little kid. They have to take my statement and leave it at that…I’m sorry about MacDonald.”

Rose waved him off as she shook her head but a sob escaped from her throat. “I sure know how to pick ‘em!”

“No matter, you did. He was a shit, but he was your shit!”

Rose half laughed and half cried. “He wasn’t even that. He’s somebody else’s shit. Now he can spend the rest of his miserable life being somebody else’s bitch in prison!”

When Bogie shook his head, Rose said, “You’re right! He’ll never live that long. Between his father-in-law and Kim’s boyfriend Tony, somebody’s going to finish him off real soon. He and Bud were quite a pair. Other people’s lives were so unimportant to them. They didn’t care if one or ten people died in a fire they were about to set as long as they got what they wanted. What assholes! And you owe George Washington big time! Jeannie had the cellar door rigged. If Matt had turned the key, he would have been blown to hell, and with all that gasoline down there the whole place would have gone up in seconds.”

He held her and said, “Angel.”

They both cried.

As the black hearse pulled up in front of the church, hundreds of people stood on the sidewalk looking on. The silver casket was glided onto the gurney, and the pallbearers lined up on either side. All wore black, R&B Investigation jackets and black gloves. All six had stone faces with red-rimmed eyes. As they slowly moved into the church, Rose’s bottom lip quivered. Standing across from her, Jesus Hernandez wiped a tear off his right cheek. George and John Washington stood behind them looking straight ahead as their shoulders quivered. Bogie and Tommie Jurgenson walked rigidly in the back.

As the sad procession moved down the center aisle, loud sobs and cries rang out. Half the church was filled with young women of every size and shape crying softly. Angel’s mother screamed as her sisters tried to keep her under control. Bailey and Darryl stood in a pew behind other R&B members with Jack and George next to them. Isabella, hurt and angry that she was not permitted to attend the open casket viewing, pushed in front of Bailey and Darryl until she was at the end of the row.

The pallbearers stopped in front of the altar and filed into the first row. The robed priest, with an altar boy on either side opened his mouth to speak when the little girl wearing her white karate outfit jumped from the pew and stood at the foot of the coffin. A silence descended over the church. She held her hands at her sides and bowed at the waist.

Bailey made a move to grab her, but Darryl held her arm. “Let her go! She needs to say goodbye,” he said softly.

Isabella looked up at the ceiling. “Goodbye, Angel. I love you. Please don’t forget about me. And please take good care of Kim and Fluffy.” And then the little warrior cried. She sobbed as her mother carried her back to the pew and rocked her in her arms.

ERIKA BAERT – The woman who wore many hats and all of them well--artist, editor and more

JANET PARINI – The editor’s editor who made good, better, then best.

Chris Birdy was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. After graduating from high school, she did a four year stint in the Middle East. When she returned to the States, Chris settled down in the Boston area and became a true Bostonian by collecting college degrees while raising a family.

For more than twenty years, Chris has been a member of the legal community performing investigative work for Boston law firms.

Chris lives outside of Boston and in Palm Beach, Florida with her husband.