TOY CRIME STORY PART 3

 

CHAPTER THREE

Felix slumped to the floor while Nightbeat found some construction paper and a pencil to take notes with. The eraser towered impossibly high over him, making him look like a Lilliputian.

“I’ve got the perfect alibi,” Felix said. “I was passed out drunk.”

“I know,” Nightbeat said. “But you got up to a lot of shifty things back in the day.”

“Hey, I lived in Hollywood. Everyone was up to a lot of shifty things. I was lucky. I was just into broads and booze. Maybe a bit of weed here and there.”

“You liked the broads a bit young, though, didn’t you?”

“What the fuck do you mean by that? It was all legal and above board.”

“’Legal’ is a subjective word, wouldn’t you say?” Nightbeat asked. “Back when you were chasin’ tail, fourteen was a bit more acceptable than it is now.”

“Goddammit, Nightbeat. What’s the all about? Yeah, I did some things. Maybe someone accidentally died here and there, and my people took care of it. It’s standard fare, and you can’t do a fucking thing about it. This isn’t about my good old days. This is about Joey. You know I didn’t do it.”

“It’s possible,” Nightbeat said. “Maybe even probable. But what if the drunken mess was an act?”

“You know me,” Felix said. “I’m drunk all the time, usually waaaaaaay too drunk to even walk. You think I could have murdered Joey in a state like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh fuck you, Nightbeat. Can I fucking go?”

Nightbeat nodded. “You know I’ll be checking this so-called alibi.”

Felix threw up his hands. “I know, I know. Don’t forget to cross the i’s and dot the fucking t’s.” He stood and shuffled out of the closet.

Next came three of Felix’s ex-wives. He knew from the get-go that he couldn’t trust any of them to tell the truth. They were gold diggers, through and through. He didn’t know why. He highly suspected that Felix had zero money and was living off the charity of those who remembered his movies back in the day. Maybe they knew something he didn’t. It didn’t matter. They would want him behind bars or worse: unstuffed.

Sure enough, they lied through their insufferable smiles. They didn’t know anything. Nightbeat chalked it up as a loss.

Felix’s kids didn’t know anything, either. They were young and didn’t understand that their loving father had disavowed them. They were still full of hero worship as if they’d just watched the old time movies fresh before coming in for the interview. Nightbeat dismissed them quickly.

Next in was Don Snowy. He hauled his considerable girth into the closet and plopped down. “Yo!”

“Don Snowy,” Nightbeat said. “You were quick to send me in Felix’s direction. How long did you know he was passed out in the closet?”

“Long time, sure,” Don Snowy said. “Him ‘n’ me were gettin’ fucked up on hooch, scoping chicks, you know.”

Come to think of it, Don Snowy did smell faintly of gin. “Why are you still sober while Felix was, as you say, ‘fucked up’?”

“Old fucker’s a lightweight. You’d think after all the shit he went through in those old Hollywood days, he’d be better off, but I gotta lotta weight on him. Prolly why I’m still standing.”

That sounded true enough. If it was, Felix was off the hook. Nightbeat knew he’d have to gather more information before he could be certain of that. He asked, “Do you know if it was just booze Felix was using?”

“Jus’ booze?” Don Snowy asked.

“Maybe he picked up some other Hollywood habits. Maybe pills? Heroin?”

“No! Felix is a drunkard, not a junkie, yo!”

Nightbeat nodded. “So you were with him while Joey was being murdered?”

“I don’ know nuthin’ about no murder,” Don Snowy said. “But when Joey was dyin’? Yeah, I was wit’ Felix.”

Nightbeat sighed. “Okay, you can go.”

Don Snowy stood, and a fart escaped him. “Whoops! Old age, ya’ know? Hey!” And he left.

Nightbeat interviewed a few other toys over the course of the next couple of hours. And then the next of his suspects arrived.