“Shut the door,” Shempsky, said. “He's quieter if you shut the door. I guess I have to kill him, too, but I've been procrastinating. It's like killing Doc or Sneezy, or Grumpy. And I have to tell you I feel real bad about killing Sneezy. I really like Sneezy.”
If you've never had a gun pointed at you, you can't imagine the terror. And the regret that life was too short, too unapprec
iated. “You don't really want to kill Sneezy and me,” I said, working hard to keep my voice from shaking.
“Sure I do. Hell, why not. I've killed everybody else.” He sniffed and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve. “I'm getting a cold. Boy, I tell you, when things start going bad . . .” He ran his hand through his hair. “It was such a good idea. Take a few customers and keep them for yourself. Real clean. Except I didn't count on people like Fred stirring things up. We were all making money. Nobody was getting hurt. And then things started to go wrong and people started to panic. First Lipinski and then John Curly.”
“So you killed them?”
“What else could I do? It's the only way to really keep someone quiet, you know.”
“What about Martha Deeter?”
“Martha Deeter,” he said on a sigh. “One of my many regrets is that she's dead, and I can't kill her again. If it wasn't for Martha Deeter . . .” He shook his head. “Excuse my language, but she had a real stick up her ass about the accounts. Everything strictly by the books. Wouldn't budge on the Shutz thing. Even though it was none of her business. She was a stupid receptionist, but she wouldn't keep her nose out of anything. After you left the office she decided she was going to make an example out of you and your aunt. Sent a fax off to the home office suggesting they look into the matter and prosecute you for making fraudulent claims. Can you imagine what that could lead to? Even if they just called to pacify you, it could start an investigation.”
“So you killed her?”
“It seemed like the prudent thing to do. Looking back it might have been a little extreme, but like I said before, it's really the only way you can be sure of keeping someone quiet. Human nature, such as it is, is not dependable. And you know, I discovered this amazing thing. It's not that hard to kill someone.”
“Where did you learn about bombs?”
“The library. Actually, I'd built the bomb for Curly, but by chance I happened to see him crossing the street to get to his car. It was late at night, and he was coming out of a bar. Nobody around. Couldn't believe how lucky I was. So I ran him over a bunch of times. I had to make sure he was dead, you know. Didn't want him to suffer. He wasn't such a bad guy. It was just he was a loose end.”
I gave an involuntary shiver.
“Yeah,” he said, “it was kind of creepy the first time I ran over him. I tried to pretend it was a bump in the road. So anyway, I had this bomb all ready to go, and then I found out you were going over to RGC again. I called Stemper and gave him some baloney about delaying you for a half hour so the bank could run the check through the system.”
“Then you had to kill Stemper.”
“Stemper was your fault. Stemper'd still be alive if you hadn't been so compulsive about that check. Two dollars,” Shempsky said, sniffling. “All these people are dead, and my life is unraveling because of two fucking dollars.”
“Seems to me it started with Laura Lipinski.”
“You figured that out?” He slumped a little. “She was giving Larry a hard time. He'd made the mistake of telling her about the money, and she wanted it. She was leaving him, and she wanted the money. Said if she didn't get it, she'd go to the police.”
“So you killed her?”
“The mistake we made was in getting rid of the body. I'd never done anything like that before, so I figured chop it up, stuff it in a couple garbage bags, leave them spread out over town the night before garbage pickup. First off, let me tell you, it isn't easy to chop up a body. And second, cheapskate Fred was out, trying to save a buck on his leaves, and saw Larry and me with the bag. I mean, what are the chances?”
“I don't get Fred's part in this.”
“He saw us dump the bag and didn't think anything of it. I mean he was out there doing the same thing. The next morning Fred goes to RGC, and Martha pisses him off and sends him packing. Fred gets a block away and thinks to himself that he knows Martha's office partner. He thinks about it for another block and realizes he's the guy who dumped the bag. So Fred goes to the real estate office alongside the deli with a camera and starts taking pictures. I guess he was going to wave them in Larry's face, trying to embarrass him enough to give him his money. Only after a couple pictures Fred thinks the bag looks too lumpy and smells pretty bad. And Fred opens the bag.”
“Why didn't Fred report this to the police?”
“Why do you think? Money.”
“He was going to blackmail you.” That's why Fred left the canceled check on his desk. He didn't need it. He had the pictures.
“Fred said he didn't have any retirement account. Worked at the button factory for fifty years and had hardly any retirement account. Said he read where you needed ninety thousand to get into a decent nursing home. That's what he wanted. Ninety thousand.”
“What about Mabel? Didn't he want nursing home money for her, too?”
Shempsky shrugged. “He didn't say anything about Mabel.”
Cheap bastard.
“Why did you kill Larry?” Not that I actually cared at this point. What I cared about was time. I wanted more of it. I didn't want him to pull the trigger. If it meant I had to talk to him then that's what I was going to do.