“What exactly is it?”
“A bunch of gross old guys who worked together looking for some cheap easy thrills. They didn’t like to be seen on The Stroll or any of the usual places you’d go to pick up a…date for the evening. So they had this one guy, kind of the head creep, he made all the arrangements. He sent another guy out to gather us up and drive us to The Playground—that’s this place north of the city where no one else ever goes, including cops. The five of us girls would go out there, and then the men would show up, and we’d do…whatever.”
“What’s whatever?”
“Whatever they wanted. It changed from one night to the next. Usually some kind of weird show to get them worked up, then we’d finish off with the usual orgy.”
“The usual orgy?”
“That’s what they liked to call it. It really wasn’t an orgy, ’cause most of those guys weren’t good for more than one time, and only about thirty seconds at that.”
“What kind of a show?”
“Oh, we’d dress up in costumes, or we’d make a big deal of undressing. One time we stripped down and kind of messed with each other. They really liked that. Another time we let them pee on us. They got a big charge out of that, too. One time we tied some of them up and, you know, kind of teased their private parts. I wouldn’t let them tie me up, though. I drew the line there.”
Thank God. Ben’s teeth clenched tightly together. He wasn’t sure which was worse—thinking about her committing these acts, or hearing her recite them in such a matter-of-fact manner. “Why did you do this?”
“Because Sonny told me to. Besides, it paid very well. Every time the Club met, I could afford to take a night or two off, and sometimes Sonny would let me.” Her voice grew quieter. “That would make almost anything worthwhile.”
“This one guy you mentioned—the head creep. What did he look like?”
“I don’t know. I heard about him, but I never saw him.”
“Could you recognize these men if you saw them again?”
“Oh…possibly. You know, we’re told not to look the Johns in the face, and I think that’s usually sound advice.”
“Do you remember any of them?”
“I recognized one of them when I saw his picture in the paper. The one who got killed.”
Ben leaned forward eagerly. “What was his name?”
“I don’t remember, but he was the one who used to drive us out to The Playground.” Trixie crossed the room and took a folded newspaper out of the coat closet. “Here it is. I saved the paper.”
Ben glanced at it; he didn’t have to look long. It was the Tulsa World article about Howard Hamel’s murder. Hamel’s picture was on the top left corner of the page.
“When you saw this, didn’t it make you suspect you were in danger?”
“I already knew. I suspected when Angel disappeared.” Her eyes reddened. “He got her the day after her birthday. I’d given her a present—one of those necklaces with a gold heart torn in half. You know, she’d keep one half, I’d keep the other. It was supposed to symbolize being friends for life.” Her eyes focused on the carpet. “Some friendship. The next day, she was gone. And now she’s dead.”
“What did you do next?”
“Like I said, I was suspicious when Angel disappeared. But I was certain when they got Suzie and Barbara. I tried to save Bobbie Rae, but I was too late. And then he came after me.”
“Who?” Ben grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Who came after you?”
“I don’t know. I never saw him. But he tried to kill that policeman, and the next day he was all over The Stroll looking for me.”
“That’s why you went into hiding. It wasn’t the police you were hiding from. It was the killer.”
“Right. But I didn’t have anywhere to hide out. Sonny was no help—he wanted me back on the street. I didn’t know where to go. I sure as hell wasn’t going to trust the police again. Buddy was the only person who offered to help. He has this place his grandmother left him. He said I could stay here.”
“Thank goodness,” Ben said under his breath. If Buddy hadn’t gotten her off the street…well, he preferred not to think about it. “Does Buddy live alone?”
“Yeah, other than me. He used to have this boyfriend, but it didn’t work out. So he had plenty of room for me.
“When we were looking for you, we were told to follow the pennies. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the deal with the pennies?”
Her face flushed; for the first time, she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, that. That’s…nothing important.”
“I’m curious.”
“It’s just…see, I try to do nice stuff for people whenever I can, you know? Little rays of sunshine, I call them. Everything is so bad around here, it just seems like…well, any dumb thing might help. Sometimes I swipe change from a John’s pockets and buy flowers for the other girls. Or sometimes I whip up breakfast in bed—I do decent scrambled eggs. And whenever I get pennies, I throw them on the ground. You know, so other people can find them.”
“ ‘See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.’ ”
“Exactly.” Her cheeks were a bright crimson. “Super dumb, I know.”
Ben smiled. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”
She shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “Well, we all do what we can.”
“Let me ask you one last question.” Ben touched his side gingerly. “What was that you stabbed me with?”
“Oh!” She reached under the sofa cushions. “I was in the kitchen when you came in. I just grabbed the first two things I saw—the blade from Buddy’s electric mixer, and the extension cord.”
“That blade really stung,” Ben said. “I’m glad you didn’t have time to get to the cutlery.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am. I was just so scared.” She placed her hand on his leg. “Are you sure there isn’t some way I can…make it up to you?”
“I’m sure there is.” Ben gently removed her hand and dropped it in her lap. “From now on, lock your front door.”
42
BEN TALKED WITH TRIXIE for almost three solid hours, until he had all the information he thought she could offer. Most of it didn’t pertain directly to the case. He knew from past experience, though, that sometimes the facts that turn out to be the most telling don’t even seem relevant at first. He tried to learn everything he could about Trixie, the Kindergarten Club, and life on The Stroll.
“Trixie, I have to leave for a short while, but I don’t want you to be here by yourself. How long till Buddy comes back?”
Trixie glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s already late. Probably stopped for coffee or something. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Ben said flatly. “I’m going to call a friend of mine to stay with you until I return.”
A fearful expression returned to her face. “Not a cop. I don’t want any cops.”
“Trixie, it’s for your own protection.”
“That’s what they said before. And the next thing I knew I was getting beat up again. For all I know, this killer is some sex pervert cop.”
“Trixie, I don’t think—”
“If you call a cop, I’m running out of here as fast as I can. And you won’t be able to stop me.”
Ben sighed. “All right. How about a woman, then? Not a cop. Someone I know we can trust.”
Her head tilted a fraction. “That might be all right. Who is it, your girlfriend?”
“Just a friend. But a very good one.”
Christina arrived about half an hour later. Her eyes were cloudy, and her strawberry blond hair was a jumbled mess, but she was there. She was wearing a gray sweatsuit and sneakers.