The Conch Killers

Chapter One Blood exploded in a bright red spray when the brown, barnacle-covered shell smacked loudly into the man’s head. THWOCK! The man’s eyes rolled back into his head and a big gash just above his temple revealed his skull, glistening with a patina of blood. None of the people watching were paying much attention to the dying man with a big hole in his head. Their attention was focused on the other man standing next to the dead guy. That would be the guy with the shell. Snapping out of his stupor, Tad stumbled down into the gin-clear shallow water, the bottom visible even at night. “Ramon, I think you beat him to death with… that shell. That’s a new one, even for you.” “Not just any shell…,” he continued, “…a Queen Conch shell. Definitely not just any shell. The shell most associated with the Florida Keys and this Shangri La called the Bahamas. It stirs the imagination and fires the passions. It’ll also hold a door open, but that’s another story. Can you hear me, O’Brien? Are you listening? Conch – rhymes with conk – like what I just did to your head.” O’Brien heard nothing. His head was six inches under water and no bubbles were emanating from within. No input from O’Brien. “Shell, I proclaim that you are a killer. You have killed Mr. O’Brien, who needed to be killed and hence is such and done is the deed. You and I have become one. We are brothers of the molluskial dark arts.” Murphy looked at Tad impatiently. Tad replied, “You know how he is. The spirit moves him.” Murphy grumbled, “Something better move us all.” A red stain spread around the vicinity of O’Brien’s cabeza muerta throughout the water. Murphy cleared his throat and said, “Ramon, you know the difference between killers and murderers? Killers are the ones that have not been caught yet. And we have not yet been caught. Murderers have been convicted. We have not and I would prefer to keep it that way. Now, please pull your head out of your fourth point of contact or we going to be stuck in a Bahamian jail with Jamaican drug runners using us for blowup dolls. We have to go, Ramon. Tad, you and Ramon get to the boat and we will get to the sea plane.” “Ah, yes,” Ramon said, “There’s that. Time to leave,” he said slowly, “…but the shell comes with us. It’s all about synergy. Working together. Man and nature. Mano y Shello.” Tad exhaled in a measured breath nodded, “Goes on the mantle. Let’s go home, Conch Killer.” “Conch Killer? I like it!” Ramon said. His face brightened as he washed the blood off the edge of the shell. “Time to go.” It was then that they watched the big Morris Yacht motoring swiftly out of the channel and headed toward the Gulf Stream. Their way home was leaving without them. Great. What now? Chapter Two (Alexandria, Virginia) The smell of pizza wafted through the night air, assaulting the senses of the throngs of people on the sidewalk. Don Vito’s was a favorite spot, just five blocks from the waterfront on King Street. The young couple walked down here from their brownstone, just like many nights before. The handsome young man nodded at the busy cashier and called out, “Hey Vinnie! Give us the usual. Try not to screw it up again.” The dark, hairy man was throwing dough into the air. He feigned outrage, “That’s right. Keep it up. I’m this close to putting in a call to Lenny Two Fingers. Then - Bada Bing! You – at the bottom of the Potomac… and then your woman, she’ll be mine. That’s right, keep it up.” He smiled as he wiped his hands on his flour and sauce-covered apron and began to ladle pizza sauce onto the dough. The young man walked behind the counter and gave the man a hug. “How you doing, Vinnie?” “Fine, Johnny, just fine. How’s that beautiful fiancé of yours?” “Jesus, Vinnie! You know we’re not engaged. Why do you keep embarrassing Elizabeth like that?” “Why do you keep embarrassing the family? And yourself, you putz. Put a ring on that girl’s finger. Don’t wait too long. Now go sit down. I’ll have it out soon.” Johnny kissed the elderly Italian woman at the cash register on the cheek, and went to his girlfriend. The couple sat and chatted. They talked about whatever young people talked about when they were in love. The future was certain, the stars were in their proper alignment and all was right with the world. The girl’s eyes sparkled as she stared into Johnny’s face. He leaned over and whispered a private joke in her ear, causing peals of laughter. Johnny was sure he had found the woman with whom he would grow old. He had slowly allowed their relationship to grow, not rushing it. He was careful. He had to be. He was her bodyguard. But on this night, fate was fickle and Johnny was paying more attention to Elizabeth the love of his young life rather than Elizabeth, the subject he was guarding. And that was bad. Johnny had come to let his guard down more and more. When he looked around, he saw the world through the eyes of a goggle-eyed fool in love rather than through suspicious, probing eyes. He knew he would marry Elizabeth in time, but for how he enjoyed her company. In fact, it was all he craved. He was losing his edge. No, losing is not the right word. He was shedding his bodyguard skin and trying hard to be a good boyfriend. Never had Johnny made such a big mistake. He had become complacent. And tonight, Elizabeth would pay. Dearly. • • • “What a handsome couple,” the old lady thought. Edna Stribling had lived in Alexandria for forty-six years. Each night Edna would walk down to the Potomac River and back. She would carefully make her way up the sidewalk to King Street and turn right. The night air was pleasant and she enjoyed the ambience. She had seen a lot in her seventy-eight years. Edna was what you could call a “spunky old bird.” She had been in New York when the boys come back from the Big War in ’45. “That was a hell of a party,” she thought, “the good old days.” She was twenty years old, and one good looking broad. At least that was what here soon-to-be husband told her. Plus, Benjamin liked her ta-ta's. Benjamin Stribling was a Marine captain who had successfully led a company of Marines at Guadalcanal. He was a handsome devil, a decorated war hero and best of all, awfully rich. Benjamin’s father, Ernest Stribling, had built a thriving company from the ground up. Edna did not know exactly what they did, but it had something to do with selling mechanical parts to the military and other government agencies. Edna met Benjamin at a USO dance. After seven dances, four gin martinis and two hours in the sack, Benjamin was convinced he had found his dream girl. Six months later they were married. They had an exciting and fulfilling fifty-one years of marriage, until Benjamin’s heart gave out while sweeping off the front walk. Edna had lived the last five years alone in their Georgetown brownstone, making the most of each and every day. That’s why she liked to walk at night – because it made her feel alive and young. As Edna watched the young couple come out of the pizza parlor, she smiled. Young people in love always had a distinct glow – an aura of wonder and promise that radiated from the way they smiled and held each other. Benjamin held her like that fifty-eight years ago on this very street. Edna silent wished the unknown couple fifty-one years together as they made their way to the waterfront. • • • Elizabeth and Johnny had a very non-traditional start, as a young couple in love. Usually on a campus, boy sees girl, boy meets girl, boy and girl decide they kind of like each other, and they end up in the sack for two months. If they can stand each other then, the relationship has real promise. Liz and Johnny had a different story. Liz was a junior at Georgetown, majoring in economics. Liz’s father was Bradford Wallington Forbish, IV, CEO and majority stockholder of Forboco Petrochemical, Incorporated.