Master Bastard
Classtard

Popular Irony unfinished

The Murderer, The Pornographer, and The Money Launderer. Vic Musket 4

No one ever pays attention to what happens in alleyways.  This fact was a great comfort to Detective Vic Musket as he hoisted Loomis’ dead homeless body over the lip of an open trash dumpster.  The head swiveled about with no resistance, the broken neck making the corpse seem like a cheap movie prop.  Vic used an old trick to prevent the body’s discovery.  He had found twenty dollars in the man’s pockets, and he left the bounty poking enticingly out of the breast pocket.  If an unscrupulous garbage man found the cash he was less likely to report the body.
Now he had to settle the score with Mitch, the porno shop owner that sent Vic on this wild goose chase.  Loomis wasn’t supposed to die, but Vic had a six hour walk to think of a way to spin this.
A shitty audio recording of a female orgasm droned from the speaker of a novelty door chime as Vic walked into the shop.  “Holy shit, Vic.  I thought I would never see you again.” Said Mitch as he rose to lead the detective into the back room.
“What, you think I’m a chiseler, Mitch?” Vic asked, feeling more formidable now that he had killed a man without even trying.
“It’s not that, man.” Mitch insisted.  “But I have known you for years.  I figured that bastard would bribe you off with a half gallon of booze and you would wake up two days later after he skipped town.”
Vic couldn’t argue his logic.  Time to change the subject…  “You know Mitch, you really owe me big.”  He said distractingly.  “That guy was a madman.  Not only did he admit to robbing your fine establishment, but he gloated about it.  He said he was coming back to do you in, and offered me a thousand dollars to help him set you up.”  Mitch was buying it…  “But I set him straight, buddy.  I told him to keep his money.  I was going to take him right here, Mitch. To face the music.”
“So where the fuck is he, Vic” Mitch was getting impatient.
“Well he tried to escape so I kicked the hobo shit out of him, naturally.  You know I take the job seriously, and I would never betray a client.  I told him to return the money here, and then get the fuck out of town.  He won’t be bothering you anymore, let me tell you.” Vic was stalling.
“OK cut it out, Vic.  The police pulled Loomis’ body out of a dumpster two hours ago.  You are getting sloppy in your old age.”  Mitch said, grinning cleverly at the completion of his deception. “And I found out Loomis didn’t even do the robbery.  An ex employee was caught by the police two days ago.  Where the fuck have you been for the last week, anyway?”
Had it been a week?  He hadn’t checked his stool in a while.  He always shat blood on Wednesdays, and that was usually how he kept track of time.  “Just give me what I earned, Mitch.  I just unknowingly pissed on and then killed an innocent man, and I need to get the fuck out of here.”
Mitch spilled his guts out.  The mysterious rich client on the other end of the payphone had a dark secret.  He was participating in laundering large sums of cash for the Mafia, and thought he could pressure the Italians to pay him a higher percentage.  With too many connections in the business world to protect him, the Italians hit him at home by taking his daughter’s innocence.
A normal man’s resolve would retreat like so many freezing testicles at the thought of facing the Mafia single-handedly.  But most men were not chemically-dependant perverted sadists, and this degenerate hobo detective smelled cash in the form of garlic soaked corpses.  He didn’t have to take them all out, just the man that owned the cock that raped her, and the man at the top that gave the order.
To be continued...