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Bad Luck.Walt Disney. He made fine pictures of far away places. Showing how people lived. Or once lived. Times have changed. Walt Disney made fantasy movies and cartoons. Times aren't that different. I? Well I made plans. Plans within plans. And my current situation demanded ignorance. A complete dumbfound unknowing ignorance. The orderly had filled me in while I pretended to regain my hearing. Through this means I found out no weapon had been discovered, but there were questions about the bullet hole. If I could just find out where they found me. A flurry of activity in the outer corridor advised me the cops had arrived. I lay back down in the bed pulling up the covers. Looking a bit burned and beaten may work for me, one never knows. The cops were let in and everyone excused. I took the time to appraise the cops. One fat and old. White, 50ish. The other a tall muscular black guy. He looked like he worked out four times a day. I managed a pitifull smile. The older cop pulled up the only chair. The black guy blocking the door. Coulda been a bouncer. Probably wished he was from the bored expression. "So buddy. How ya doin?" A New York accent. Why the heck would a New Yorker come to Florida to enforce the law. Isn't there enough crime in New York? "Fine. A few burns and bruises from what I can see. But my dick still works." My reply seems to please the fat bastard. Probably the dick comment. He does have the look of a XXX theater patron. Kinda seedy in a coat that looks greasy from more than just lack of washing. Come to think of it, why would a cop not be able to afford a decent coat, or dry cleaning? He didn't look like Columbo. But a weak smile along with my answer was rewarded with a smile. "So, I'm guessing you know where you are. And how you got here." Statement not fact. He was already questioning. Miranda my ass. he was hoping I would spill my guts like a hundred guys before me. But he still hadn't offered any information I could use. "I know where I'm at. But I'm still not too sure how I got here." Shuffling through papers he had in a brown folder in his hands, he found one he appeared pleased with. He proceeded to take his glasses out of his pocket and scan over the sheet. It became too obvious when he scanned a second sheet before returning his gaze to me. He hadn't even read the file. "Says here you were found floating near a burning hull of a boat. You rented a boat today didn't cha?" Well obviously I had been near a burning boat. The singed body, and hairless condition were a sure sign. Renting the boat could have been deduced by the ID numbers if any were left, or a report of a stolen boat. This guy was possibly smater than me. I should worry. "Yeah. I rented a boat from Blackburn's Marina earlier today. Looking around the area. What happened?" Thats right. Ignorance my poor boy. You must feign ignorance. Obviously your more intelligent than this cretin. Your smarter than ninety nine percent of the world. Why should this boob be any different. Wait him out. A stupid questioning look enfolded my face. It begged an answer. It begged him to fill in the blanks. The cretin was only too happy. No one listened to him anymore. Not his wife. His kids. His partner. You could almost see it in the oily stains driven into the cuffs of his suit. "From what we have here, you were found near the old bridge off Casey Key. Witnesses heard a popping sound, but no one came out till they saw a light on the intercoastal side. Reports differ as to which side the first noise came from." Good. I was near enough to the boat rental place to say I was returning the boat. I could possibly blame the bullet hole in the boat on an outside influence. Yes. That was it. Lately there had been problems with the boaters and fishermen. Fish rage. I could explain it off as a fisherman. Better yet. A sniper. But why would a sniper single me out. "I had just dropped someone off. You know over by the dockside restaurant." He raised his eyes slightly. Scribbled in the margin of one of the sheets he had grabbed. He was sweating. The air conditioning was keeping everything as cool as hospitals always are, yet this bozo was sweating. "So who were you dropping off? A quick flick of his eyes again told me he could be a problem but deflecting his attention wouldn't be a problem. Just play on his weakness. Everyone had one, and this guys weaknesses were worn outside for any with a discerning eye to see. "A lady friend I had met earlier." He gave a slight nod, not ready to speak, more an indication for me to fill in some blanks. Well I best give it the best shot I could. The who was easy. A lady friend. His weakness would bear that out as a fact. But why would I not be able to name her, and how to explain being shot at. "She kinda met me here at the docks earlier. I promised I would show her the sunset on the water." A glance towards my finger, then a glance at me sent the message I was married. Brilliant of him to notice the connection between a wedding ring and a possible wife. "Had you told your wife of your sunset voyage?" Trying my best to blush, or look ashamed probably made me look stupid, but again I had to go with what worked. A wink and a shake of the head. "No, I'm pretty sure I didn't tell her I was off with another woman. Matter of fact I remember telling her I was gonna go fishing with one of the guys from work." He jotted some more notes in the margins of what had to be an incedent report, and looked towards the black wall near the door. "Could ya get us some sodas or coffee Lou?" A bored nod and Lou looking relieved to excercise his legs in however long it took to find something to drink left the room. "Lou is kinda against screwing around. Lost his wife to some rapper awhile back. Still pisses him off. So who's the lady your screwing around on your wife with? We may need to ask her some questions." I had already decided to tell him she was a hooker but wasn't sure how to explain not knowing where the hell she came from, why I dropped her off at the dock, and who the hell shot at me. Think dammit, think, or your gonna be the hairless prize in someones jail cell. "I really didn't catch her name. Candy, Randy, Sandy. I really wasn't that interested in getting to know her better if you know what I mean." Grinning he leaned back not bothering to write anything down. "She was a hooker? Buddy you spent alot of money to get laid. Why would you spend so much on a piece of ass? She that good?" Chuckling along with him I brightened up, leaning forward as if to share a secret. "Not really. But I always wanted to screw the shit outta some broad on a boat. Kinda one of those unlived fantasies that stick with ya. If I hadn't of found this one walking up the road I might not have ended up doing it. As it was she kept complaining we were too far out. How we should be parked closer to the docks. How she needed to get to a phone. So I bent her over the wheel and got what I paid for and drove her to the docks and kicked her out. Last I saw she was getting in a old truck parked there." The bastard. Not only was he smiling but I think he was getting a pudgy. He kept leaning his elbow against his crotch as if by accident but I kept catching him grinding it into his groan. This was a true dyed in the wool pervert. "So ya picked her up down the road? Is that north or south of here?" Drunken Monkey Style Blogging |