Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Funeral for a Killer

They drove for about forty five minutes to a cemetery well upstate of New York City. He almost felt grateful for this as it meant that he possibly wouldn’t be made for a cop like Edgar had picked up on at their first meeting. It seemed to be situated just outside of a small town with a scenic view of the mountains that stretched just east of them. Skinner tucked his .45 into the back of his slacks and felt the pull across his waist tighten. “Yeah, I’ve definitely got to lose some more weight” he thought as he climbed out of the Escalade.

The row of expensive cars made him worry. Boss Tanaka was already after him and he was sure that these people weren’t of the normally friendly variety. Shin Lao had gone to the rear of the vehicle and pulled the two Desert Eagle .50’s out of the bag and strapped them into the shoulder holsters that Edgar had supplied. She slung it all over her should like she was carrying a purse, and not the thirty pounds of steel and brass that they were. The walked up to where the assembled group was standing. Skinner didn’t recognize any of the faces standing by the graveside. But he supposed that he probably wouldn’t as everybody traveled in opposite social circles.

They strode between the rows of gravestones casually, but Skinner was incredibly nervous. If Shin Lao was she certainly didn’t show it. A coy smile on her face they approached the massed criminals. “Don’t worry; no one will do anything today. It’s bad luck” She whispered to Skinner, setting his mind slightly more at ease. In fact after a second scanning the crowd he found none of the normal signs of concealed weapons. He was sure they were there, but these were obviously professionals and not your everyday hoodlums. They walked by everybody in emotional states varying between smug and sad. It was always a sad day when someone of his stature in the “community” finally fell, but they all knew it was inevitable; it was inevitable for all of them. There was no black and white here, everybody lived their lives in shades of grey. It was often the only way to persuade what little conscience some of them had that what they did was necessary.

They made the obligatory rounds with the crowd. They made small talk, reminisced with a few of them and avoided eye contact with others. Skinner was surprised at how personable some of these people were. They may be hired killers, but he supposed that at the end of the day they had lives as well. After stalling as much as they could, Shin Lao approached the casket that was waiting to be interred into the earth. “Excuse me for a moment Leonard; I’d like to be alone for a minute with him.” He hadn’t noticed that she’d called him by his first name until she was standing at the casket. He supposed that it was for the best as people might recognize his last name, and certainly in this crowd she couldn’t call him “detective”.

He watched her as she gracefully knelt down by the grave despite the soft earth and the narrow heels that she was wearing. She placed the two pistols into the casket and softly said something in a language Skinner didn’t understand, presumably Chinese. She stood just as gracefully with all the demeanor of a cat and walked back to where she had left Skinner. “Go on up, I’m sure he won’t mind.” Skinner reluctantly walked towards the grave. He didn’t like funerals and had been to many for his fellow fallen officers. For some reason this one was a little tough to deal with. He didn’t know this man as well as he knew his fellow officers, but still he felt that a good man had died and he’d certainly miss him. He also knew that with this man dead his hope for finding his daughter also died.

He looked down into the casket and there he was, the boogie man of the criminal underworld. This was the man that everybody feared, he’d become an urban myth, something of a ghost story that mothers told their children about. “Keep your nose out of shit or the Viper will one day have to rub you out.” “Good bye old boy. You always told the truth, which is more than I can say for the rest of us.” He looked down at the assembled group of mementos that the others had placed in there. Aside from the large firearms that Shin Lao had placed in there, there were also pictures, a few marked bullets from several different crime families and many other small trinkets. He had nothing to lay in there so he stood and painfully wiped the beginnings of a tear from beneath his sunglasses and walked back to Shin Lao.

Her sunglasses hid her eyes well but he knew that she had been crying. He felt that he needed to do something and so somewhat stiffly he put his arms around her in the best approximation of a hug that he could muster. Surprisingly she pressed her face against his chest and cried. She cried hard, which was something that Skinner guessed she had never done. The site of a friend or loved one in the casket cemented the fact that they were gone. There was no room for hope at that point. They were dead and all you had was the void that they used to fill. Skinner put his own head on her shoulder and the hell with what the assembled criminals thought. She pulled her head up from him and wiped her eyes. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

Everybody faced the front as the reverend cleared his throat. Skinner didn’t hear most of the graveside ceremony. He was someplace else. That nagging thought from last night kept coming back to him. The web page, the sale of the gun, Ghost_Widow, HKBOluvah, Jackson won the lottery, the guns, Jackson, Ghost_Widow. “Holy Shit!” Skinner muttered to himself. He looked next to him and noted that Shin Lao was looking at him. “I’ll tell you in the car.” He didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the ceremony either, only pricking up when he heard the man of God exclaim to the group “In Nomine Patri, Es Filli, Es Spirtu Sancti”

Everybody filed out of the graveyard solemnly. Hit men didn’t like to be in a place of the dead just as much as anybody else. It probably reminded them that they’ve put more than their fair share of bodies into these places. They climbed quietly into the Cadillac and Shin Lao started up the engine before she turned to Skinner. “So what was that about?” “I know who really killed the Viper; He was also the person who sold the guns as well. And I think you know who bought them. All I can’t figure out is why.” “So are you going to fill me in or do I have to torture it out of you?” She said this with a small smile, the first he’d really seen since they’d arrived. “There’s a police officer who just rather noisily decided to quit because he’d just won the lottery. I believe in fact that he’s the one who sold the guns because they were bought that morning. If he had his guns he either killed Elias, or he was around when it happened.” “OK so that explains that small bit, but who bought them?” “You did.” Skinner said this plainly and without any sort of emotion on his face. “It didn’t really fit together until I remembered that Edgar said your alias this morning. Ghost_widow bought the guns for a hefty price, and the name seems to fit together with everything happening this morning.”

“Very astute detective. No wonder Elias always talked about you. You are indeed a good detective. And as for why, I wanted to have something to remember him by, and that auction was the perfect opportunity. That man paid for my freedom with his life detective, I owed him that much at the very least. I didn’t want those to fall into some scumbag’s hands. It just didn’t feel right.” Skinner felt like a bastard. He’d had grand visions of master plans and twisted words, making him the patsy in some grand scheme. That had not been the case and he’d overlooked the emotional attachment that could exist between people. He’d been lacking that for quite some time, and his time on the force seeing all sorts of trash and killings kept him emotionally distant. “I apologize. But I think we’ve got something to move on with Officer Jackson.” “We? Detective what are you saying?” “I’m saying that I’m in until the end. I want to figure this thing out now just as much as you do. There’s twisted cops pouring out of the woodwork these last few days and I’d like to find as many as I can before I sit back in that office.” “You do realize that you may have to kill a few people if this turns badly detective. The rules are different for you than they are for me.” “I know, but in a way, I feel like I owe him a little something anyway. I don’t know why, but call it a personal investment.” “All right detective. It’s your funeral.” Skinner looked straight at her face. “No, it’s not Shin, and that’s what I have a problem with.”

They backed out onto the interstate that went past the cemetery. Skinner still felt like a bastard and Shin Lao had gone quiet for the moment. He adjusted his glasses, feeling like a low rent wanna-be next to all of those expensive suits. Any three of those suits combined probably added up to close to his yearly salary. Looking up one last time at the graveyard he noticed one of the many black sedans barreling towards them. “Um, I don’t think he’s gonna stop.” Skinner said quickly grabbing the .45 from his waist. He was waiting for some word from Shin Lao but she seemed to be sizing the situation up. “Hold on” She said simply as she gunned the engine. Sand and gravel kicked up a cloud of shrapnel and dust as the truck seemed to spin around on its axis, pointing them in the southbound lane.

The SUV seemed to be catapulted forward as soon as one of the rear tires touched pavement and they were up to eighty miles per hour very shortly. Skinner looked into his rear view mirror and saw that the sedan was still on their tail. “We’re not gonna shake em in this thing.” Skinner hated pointing out the obvious but he didn’t know what else to say in this situation. He noticed someone leaning out the passenger side window. The man’s submachine gun thankfully sprayed into open air as they took a tight turn on the hilly road. “What are you waiting for Skinner, start shooting back.” The electric motors for his window purred as it slid down. He looked into the mirror again and noticed the man was taking aim. “Sharp right!” Shin Lao barked out and Skinner noticed the tight turn that was coming up. He stuck his head out the window as the Escalade skidded around the corner fishtailing into the guard rail in a shower of sparks and noise. Skinner fired off several shots which all slammed into the windshield of the pursuing sedan. Apparently none of them struck anyone and he started firing until his clip was empty. “Sharp left, careful I’m gonna floor it.” Skinner ducked his head back inside the vehicle as the sounds of the rubber skidding across asphalt echoed through the woods on each side of the elevated road. Deep into the skid he heard the engine whine as it tried to accelerate but simply made the tires smoke.

In a sudden jolt the tires caught traction and they rocketed off. Skinned slammed another clip into his pistol and checked his mirror. The gunner didn’t have a clear shot as the sedan was just coming out of a skid itself. Skinner aimed for the hood of the car and drummed the trigger six times sending a hail of lead into trailing car. Another hail of gunfire pummeled the tailgate of the Cadillac, shattering the back hatch. “I’ve got a shotgun stashed in that forward compartment if you think you can get back there.” She didn’t take her eyes off the road as the truck neared one hundred and ten. The engine screamed, it wasn’t meant to endure this kind of speed but still seemed to handle like a dream. Skinner sent another rain of bullets into the other car as he dove into the empty back section of the large SUV. Opening the forward of the stow-away compartments he found a variety of what appeared to be bombs and ammunition. “What are these?” Skinner asked through the whipping wind coming in from the open back. “Oh, those are bombs. Don’t muck around with those yet, they’re not finished. The shotgun should be to the right. He rifled a bit and found the shotgun in the next compartment over.

He started sliding shells into the Ithaca combat shotgun as the Cadillac lurched forward roughly. He looked back and saw that the sedan was trying to ram them. The driver reached his hand out the window and fired a series of shots at the back of their truck. Skinner had to duck behind the cover of the tailgate. When the shots died down for a second he popped up and fired off two shells into the windshield. It seemed to explode inside of the car and sent them swerving for several critical seconds. He now had a clear shot and fired another slug into the car, clipping the driver. The slug turned the man’s shoulder into ground meat and he swerved sharply to the right riding the guard rail in a shower of sparks. “Good shooting detective but I don’t think you’ve bought much time. We’ve got to get off this road.” Indeed as Skinner looked back at the rapidly shrinking car the driver was slipping into the passenger seat and the sound of barking tires filled the clear wilderness air just before they followed the road behind a series of trees.

The other hitters caught up quickly but fortunately the previous driver couldn’t fire his pistol too steadily. Thankfully the driver couldn’t have too many options for trying to dodge and Skinner squeezed the trigger another two times, the bark of the shotgun in the confined space nearly making him deaf. The driver swerved and instead of a killing shot, his slugs buried into the back seat. He ejected the spent shell from the shotgun and realized that it was the last one. He pulled out the ammo box that held the shells and noticed a smaller box inside of it. “What are these?” He shouted over the wailing howl of wind. “Those are phosphorus rounds. Not much for range but they do all the damage you could ever want. I use them since they’re the only thing that I’ve found that will burn through a vest.” “They’ll do for what I want.” Skinner shouted and loaded several into the shotgun.

Skinner crawled up closer to the shattered hatch and felt a continuous stream of bullets batter the gate. He counted close to thirty hits before he popped up and fired three rapid shots in a line into the passenger compartment of the sedan. The smoke and flash of the phosphorus shells igniting blinded him and he rolled back to the protection of the tailgate which he was sure wouldn’t take a whole lot more of a beating. When the smoke cleared he looked back through the hatch and saw the sedan skidding wildly all over the twisting road. Suddenly the car took a sharp left and broke through the guard rail cart wheeling down the steep incline taking out several thick trees in the process. Skinner stowed everything back into its place and crawled back into the front. “Well that was fun” Skinner exhaled as he reclined into the deep leather seat. For the first time in twenty four hours he decided to sleep. There wouldn’t be anyone else to follow he was sure.