A Hot Day Down South…the conclusion to Reports, Rapists, and Trailer Parks…unedited…

While Konan and Lilly made their way back to the precinct with Waterson in tow, Tomas and Wiggins went to visit Billy Crumpet. According to his file, his residence was in the center of town near Saddle ‘Em Saloon. Tomas and Wiggins parked at the courthouse and walked to Crumpet’s address. Tomas walked up the steps to the front door and knocked. No one answered. Wiggins wheezed and nodded at the Western-themed bar. 

“Maybe he’s in there,” Wiggins gasped. 

“Yeah, we should check. Let’s go in.”

The pair of detectives made their way in, and immediately they noticed Crumpet sitting at the bar engaged in a conversation with the bartender. Neither one noticed Tomas or Wiggins. Tomas took a seat next to Crumpet, and Wiggins sat on the other side of Crumpet. 

“Mr. Crumpet, I’m detective Tomas and that’s my partner Wiggins next to you. We need you to come in with us to answer some questions.”

Billy picked up his drink and drained it, then slammed the glass down on the bar. “I ain’t done nothing,” Billy snapped. “Anybody says different is a liar,” he growled. Wiggins took several breaths before saying, “Look, we can do this easy. You call your lawyer an they meet us at the station or…”

“…Or what? You planning on dying of an asthma attack? I ain’t done nothing.”

“Screw this, Wiggins. Crumpet wants to be a tough guy. Billy Crumpet, you’re under arrest for the rape and murder of Amber Wainwright, put your hands behind your back.”

“I ain’t killed nobody,” Billy snarled, launching to his feet and  turning toward Wiggins with his right fist cocked back to throw a haymaker. “I don’t think so,” Tomas snapped, as he grabbed Crumpet by the collar and slammed him against the bar. Wiggins helped subdue Crumpet and shoved him out of the club. 

“Thanks, Tomas. I just knew I was done for.”

“It ain’t no thing partner. We got him.”

Tomas and Wiggins had Billy Crumpet seated in Interview Room #3, so they put Waterson in room #2.  Waterson was 5’8,  sylphlike, his body was gaunt and skeletal, his skin was like a fleshed out pelt on a fleshing machine, his pupils were pinpoints and his eyes were sluggish to respond. Tomas sat across from him to interview him. 

“Do you know what happens to kiddie rapists in prison, Waterson? Look at you. You’d end up holding some gorilla’s pocket the first day.”

“I ain’t raped nobody,” Waterson spat out. 

Tomas laid out the pictures of Amber Wainwright and pointed at one. “You see this girl, Waterson? She was fifteen years old, and the crime lab found your fluid all in her. Fifteen years old. She wasn’t old enough to consent, and that means you and your pal raped her.”

“I ain’t touched that skank,” Waterson said. His face darkened, as did his eyes, and he leaned toward Tomas his lips pulled back into a snarl. “You can’t prove I touched her.”

Tomas leaned back and scoffed. “Waterson, I just told you we found your semen in the girl. We have you dead to rights. You did a lot more than touch. If you were smart, you’re not but if you were, you’d cooperate and maybe the prosecutor would shave some time off your sentence.”

Waterson clammed up and leaned back in his seat. Tomas leaned toward Waterson and said, “Come on Joe, tell me what happened.”

“I ain’t got nothing to say to you, beaner.”

“Okay, kiddie rapist. Sit there until you die. I’m sure your pal is smarter than you are. He’s probably spilling his guts and singing like a canary. I bet he’s saying, ‘Oh Mr. Policeman, I had nothing to do with it. It was Joe’s idea!’ Yeah, that’s how’s it going down.”

“Naw, it ain’t. Billy hates cops more than I do.”

Waterson leaned back and grinned at Tomas. He kept grinning, even as Tomas flexed his hands and locked eyes with the rapist. It ain’t worth it, Miguel. Don’t choke this idiot here. He’ll get what he deserves in prison.

In room #3, Billy sat calmly. Wiggins sat across from him and said nothing to the rapist, but locked eyes with the convict and refused to look away. Billy returned the detective’s stare.  Behind the observation pane, Janko watched as the two matched wills. 

“This is going nowhere,” he muttered.

Janko slipped out of the room and walked down the hall to room #2. He tapped on the door and walked in. “You got a moment, Thermopolis?”

“Ain’t got nothing but time, chief. What’s on your mind?”

“We ain’t getting nowhere with these newfangled methods. I want you to take a run at this hard nut in #3. Go in there and get something out of him. I got your back.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Take my badge and sidearm.”

Konan handed his gear to Janko and walked into room #3. He gave Wiggins the nod to leave, and Janko tapped on the window. Wiggins walked out and shut the door. Konan walked over to where Billy sat and stood across from him. 

“How did you know the victim?”

Billy laughed snidely and said, “I don’t sprecha the Engles.” Konan laughed, and Billy laughed also. “You don’t speak English? That’s funny stuff,” Konan said, and then slugged him straight in the nose. Billy gasped and blood shot out and landed on the table. “Freaking pig,” Billy shouted. “That’s Mr. Pig to you,” Konan said quietly as he grabbed Billy by the nose and twisted. 

Billy squealed and grabbed Konan’s arm with both hands. Konan grabbed Billy by the hair and tightened his grip on his nose. Billy squealed like a wounded hog again, and Wiggins cut out for the door. “Wait, Wiggins. Let Konan work.”

Inside the room, Billy squirmed and tried to break loose, but he was handcuffed to the table, and Konan had him by the nose. 

“I’m going to ask you again, boy. How did you know the victim? Don’t make me ask you again. That little girl is dead, and I think you killed her.”

“I knew her through her mother, Daisy. It ain’t rape, and I ain’t killed nobody!”

Konan twisted Billy’s nose one more time, and Billy cried out in pain. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and for the first time in his life, he felt remorse. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Let’s try again. Did you rape Amber Wainwright? Don’t lie to me, Billy.”

“It ain’t rape, hoss! Me, Joe, and Daisy had an arrangement.”

“Oh, I see. Daisy decided on the price of her daughter’s fresh tail, and you two idiots jumped at the chance to take the newer model for a spin, huh? Daisy pimped out her own daughter to you clowns? Why? Did she not like the reflection staring back at her from the mirror?”

“Daisy ain’t no pimp. Amber got pregnant at 12, and Daisy made her get an abortion. She caught me and Joe messing with her at the Circle T out on Highway 12. Said ‘since I raised a whore, you can have her anytime you want her. That’ll teach her.’ Daisy knew what we did to Amber, and she didn’t care one bit.”

Konan leaned back in his chair, his arms overhead with his hands clasped together, and wondered what kind of time he’d face for murdering these two idiots. What kind of mother kicks her daughter out, and then let’s her shack up with these kinds of losers?

“So you and Waterson see Amber nailed to the floor and decided to jump her bones for one last ride?”

“What? God no. What kind of sicko would do something like that? Me and Joe saw her on Tuesday. We spent most of the day playing around, and then we left. She was alive when we saw her last.”

“Where did you meet up with her at?”

“At the abandoned truck stop on Highway 12. We had our fun, and she left after.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, but she hung out with some of the homeless sometimes. Down around the abandoned warehouses. Said,  “They’re people too. Like us.” I didn’t care. She did her thing and took care our needs. That’s all I wanted.” The blood from Billy’s nose had dried underneath his nostrils and on the collar of his shirt. He winced when he touched his nose. Some of the blood had splattered on the table and floor.

“You and Joe raped Amber, God only knows how many times. I pray those hardened inmates at Parchman breaks you and Waterson in, and passes you idiots around the whole prison. I hope it’s the longest nights of your lives. It’s even worse because her own mother pimped her out to you idiots. All three of you are going down for this.”

Behind the glass, Janko turned to Wiggins, and said, “Go get Tomas, and y’all bring Daisy Wainwright in here. Charge her with pimping and pandering.”

“Understood, chief.”

Janko watched as the detective walked out, and then turned his attention back to Konan and Billy. He smiled. So far, having Konan on the team had paid dividends. Janko needed someone on the team that didn’t mind breaking the rules, or even bones for that matter, as long as the victims received justice. 

Konan was leaned back in his chair considering what Billy had told him. Billy touched his nose and winced again. He glared at Konan, but Konan paid him no mind. 

“All right, Billy. I’m going to have a chat with your buddy and see if he confirms what you told me. If he doesn’t I’m going to come back and break something else.”

“You ain’t supposed to hit prisoners, pig!”

Konan slapped Billy with his open palm, and in the confined space it sounded like a gunshot, and Konan leaned close and whispered, “I ain’t a cop, Billy. I’m just a guy asking you questions. Don’t go nowhere.”

Billy flinched and touched his cheek. Konan could feel Billy’s eyes upon his back, and he grinned as he walked out of the room. He walked to room #2 and opened the door.

It was time to talk to Waterson.

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