Filling in Swift - Chapter 4

Sitting back McKinley propped his left foot on his right knee again and said, "You think you boys can stop taking digs at one another for a while? I'd like to get through this."

"Sure," Tommy said as Swift smiled at him and smacked his chewing gum.

"So tell us," Swift chomped. "How exactly did Sarcozi win the lottery?" the Detective questioned attempting to get to the meat of things.

There was some hesitation on Tommy's face as he thought about how to answer him. "Well that's a funny story," Tommy continued. "You see he didn't exactly win it so much as inherit it."

The two Detectives glanced at one another again. "Are you trying to tell us Sarcozi's dear old mother left him a winning ticket in a will?" McKinley said sarcastically, rubbing the scruff of his chin and cheek.

Cocking his head towards the Detectives Tommy allowed his eyes to fall towards the door as Ken walked in with a fresh foam cup of water. "Not exactly, Detective," he said as he thanked Ken and took the water from him.

"You're welcome," Ken replied. "Just ring me if you need anything at all."

"You're the best, Ken," Tommy said as the nurse made his way back out of the room. "I will definitely call you when I need something," the killer grinned as his eyes fell back on the Detectives. "You see what happened boys, is I was doing this job," he continued, taking a swig of water. "It was simple enough, the guy was old."

Detective Swift slid back in his chair and started chewing with his mouth closed, his eyes focusing as he settled in for the confession.

"Benny was his name," Tommy sneered. "He had owed Sarcozi money off and on for years, but this time the boss was fed up," he said taking another swig of water and then resting the cup on the cart. "You see Benny had a bit of a gambling problem. It had gotten him in pretty deep with, well, the wrong people," Tommy continued adjusting his shoulder with a wince.

"Looks like you need some Codeine," McKinley said, watching the pain jilt the prisoners face.

"No. I'm fine," Tommy said; his left eye pinched closed as his forehead wrinkled. "Sarcozi had learned that Benny was in deep to several poker rooms around the city. He knew that loser was never going to make good on his debt. This is something the boss never took lightly. Now, I knew Benny. He was a nice enough guy you know. He had been through some shit, lost his wife a few years back you know. But, hey, it's my job, right, so I go over to his place and find an eviction notice on the door, there's empty beer bottles and cans lying around the yard and in the bushes. The shingles on the roof are curling and falling off. He's got a big chunk of siding missing from the front of the house and I think damn, Benny's really hit the bottom."

"So what, did you whack him or give him an appraisal?" Swift quipped, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Cute, Detective," the killer said smirking. "Any way, I walked around to the back of the place and noticed the door was open and a box fan running, blowing air inside. Piece of cake," he said, moving his left hand in a slicing motion. "So I leaned my head in the door and drew the .45 out of my coat. You could just hear the poor slob in the front room blabbing to some old girlfriend. She had just moved back home or something. He was all giddy," Tommy chuckled. "He sounded like a school boy. That's when I eased my way over the fan and walked up the hall."

From his peripheral vision McKinley could see the heart monitor beginning to speed up. The jagged lines bounced up and down as the killer spoke. It made the Detective's hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"I remember the little TV was on," Tommy continued. "Benny sat in front of it on a resin yard chair. He had started whining about his neighbors, how he hated them, how their lawns were so perfect and how they were nice to the point of nausea. The girl must have laughed because he gave her one of those half chuckles that people do when they're faking," the Cleaver said as his eyes squinted.

Swift felt a lump in his gut as he sat and listened. The thought of beating this guy to a pulp was still itching in the back of his brain. He chewed slower on the staling gum as he watched Tommy gesture with his hands.

"So I positioned myself in the shadowed side of the hall and prepared to make my move. I had planned to just pop him in the side of the skull and slip back out the back door, but then the Power Ball came on," Tommy said. "I could just see the ticket in his hand as he talked with that girl and watched the numbers roll out of the hopper."

McKinley listened as the monitor eased back to a lulling pace again. It was unnerving for him. He started scratching his face and the back of his head incessantly.

"17, 42, 3, 25, 28. Benny got all discombobulated as the numbers appeared. To tell you the truth I got a little excited myself, but when that power ball came up old Benny went hysterical. He started jumping up and down screaming I won, I won! That's when I stepped out and said no, Benny, you lose, and put a slug in the center of his forehead. It was beautiful," Tommy chuckled, shaking his head back and forth.

"Jesus," McKinley gasped. "You're a God damned psychotic."

The reaction stirred the Cleaver into an all out laughing fit. He nodded as he laughed, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Yeah maybe Detective, maybe," he said trying to catch his breath. "Anyway, I leaned over that dead schmuck and pulled the ticket out of his hand," he continued with a chortle. "After that I was on easy street."