The Guilty - Jason Pinter [64]
I called Curt Sheffield to get the lowdown. He told me one
of the investigating officers mentioned that another note had
been left by the killer, but it was being kept quieter than a
mouse fart. He didn't find it amusing when I asked him if he
could hold a megaphone to the mouse's ass to hear it better.
"Doesn't matter if I tell you," Curt said. "Guy's as vague
as my little sister when I ask her how a date went."
"He didn't leave a note with Jeffrey Lourdes. Now he
changes his tune and leaves one with David Loverne. This is
my ex's father, man, cough it up."
"Again," Curt said, "you use this before it's made public,
I'll string you up to a lamppost. The note was just one line.
It read, 'Because I had the power.' That's it."
"'Because I had the power'? That's pretty vague. What's
it mean?"
"You're the reporter," Curt replied. "You ask me, this guy's
been watching too much David Lynch."
As soon as I hung up with Curt, I did a search for that
quote, only adding "William H. Bonney" to the search field.
What came back was most certainly not vague.
In 1878, corrupt sheriff William Brady arrested Billy the
Kid under the auspices of helping the Kid arrest John
Tunstall's killers. When a reporter asked the lawman why he
would arrest Bonney, a seemingly innocent man, Brady
replied simply, "Because I had the power."
The connection was no longer a secret. This killer wanted us
to know he had a foot in the past. The notes and public executions were garnering more media attention than anything I'd seen
since coming to the city. Only not exactly in the way I expected.
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The country was captivated by these murders, and the obsession had grown with every shot. Internet sites receiving
millions of hits a day were all but praising the murderer.
Paradis, many said, was single-handedly responsible for the
downfall of popular culture, and, many said, morals and
ethics, as well. David Loverne had long claimed to uphold traditional family values, only in reality he had more sexual
partners than the average Mormon. Mayor Perez--the
intended target--another empty suit full of insincere
promises. Jeffrey Lourdes, once a respected visionary, had
been reduced to common gossip and smut peddler.
I couldn't believe these attitudes were so prevalent, that
murder was being looked at by some as a reasonable means
to an end. But they were. Somehow the man destroying lives
was actually endearing himself to the public, by eliminating
those deemed to be making our society ill. When I read those
articles, shook my head at the stories, I knew what the link
was. Why the man was killing who he did.
He was an avenger. A Regulator. Killing those who needed
to be killed for the greater good.
Could there really be such a large portion of the population convinced that these murders were a good thing? Was it
just cynical ghouls who would never know what it was like
to lose a daughter, a father, a husband? That the person committing these crimes was not someone to erect a statue for,
but rather a gallows?
I thought about Rex. Something was still troubling me
about our conversation, but in my rush to return to New York
I hadn't been able to follow up. Before I left, he mentioned
a name. Brushy Bill. It sounded familiar for some reason, and
I made a mental note to follow up with Rex later on. I had a
full night ahead of me. I wondered when Amanda would be
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home. I missed talking to her, and hoped to God that everything Jack told me the other day could be chalked up to the
ramblings of an old, lonely man. That just because he was
going to die alone didn't mean I would. Amanda had saved
my life; was my life. And I wouldn't give that up without one
hell of a fight.
But then I rounded the corner to my apartment and saw the
one thing I never expected to see. I stopped on a dime. Couldn't
move. I didn't know what to do or what to say. Whether to go
forward and confront it, or to turn and run. The anger inside
me rose up, threatened to consume