An Ordinary Decent Criminal Read Online Free

deafened even me.

4

    “Mr. Haaviko? Can you hear me?”
    I nodded to the invisible voice and looked out into fog.
    There were shades of color there, and dim shapes, but the room looked neater than the one I’d been in. Did they move me or clean up the mess? How long had I been out? The figure across from me was thin and wearing dark clothes, including an overcoat. Not a cop, unless it was a detective. I was thirsty, my muscles ached and burned, and I was still handcuffed, but the clothes were new and clean and that was a plus.
    When I spoke, my voice was ragged with pain. “It’s Parker, actually, I’ve given up Haaviko. Too many memories.”
    The shape bobbed its head and I went on.
    “I want to see a lawyer.”
    “I am a lawyer. Your lawyer if you want me to be. My name is Lester Thompson and my office sent me.”
    It took me a while to think that through. When it finally sank in, I wanted to cry but instead I asked a question. “Are you honest?”
    It came out as a croak and Mr. Thompson thought for a while before answering, which I felt was a good sign. “Yes.”
    He didn’t sound too sure and I smiled to myself. “Fine. You’re hired. Could you please get me a drink of water and get these handcuffs off? I can’t feel my hands.”
    He nodded (I think) and went to the door, where I could hear him talking quietly to someone outside. After a few moments, someone came in with a Styrofoam cup of lukewarm water and the keys to the cuffs. After freeing me, he put his keys away and paused as if he was going to say something before walking out. My hands ached as I tried to retrieve some sensation beyond pain by massaging the swollen meat. It was only with difficulty that I avoided rubbing my eyes.
    “Okay, Mr. Haaviko, um, Parker, there’s not a lot that I can do. The police have your confession and I’ve seen a copy of it. I don’t think the Crown will deal down past murder two but it could happen. You really shouldn’t have said anything.”
    I ignored him and picked up the cup. The water went into my cupped hand and then I bathed each eye and let the water run onto the floor to avoid re-contaminating myself. Water on oleosporin hurts as the capsicum oils are reactivated but there was nothing else I could use. In a few moments they felt better and when I was done with that, I drank the spoonful I had saved and went back to manipulating the pinched and puckered flesh on my wrists.
    “Sorry. Pepper spray. I could use more water or ye old Seattle Face Wash but neither seems to be available.”
    “Mr. Parker!”
    My lawyer was angry but I kept talking, squeaking away, as the pain spiked and swelled.
    “Yep. Don’t know if the wash would work here, not in the eyes. It’s a handy little kit, first a bottle with a mixture of vegetable or mineral oil, water, and dish soap, followed by a rinse bottle of water and clean cloth. But it’s gotta be clean.”
    “Are you listening, Mr. Parker? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
    With my eyes relatively clear, I could see Thompson. He was a skinny man in his mid-twenties with thin lips and pale brown eyes. He was wearing a chocolate brown wool suit with a bright blue power tie and the clothes looked out of place and almost new. On the table in front of him was a thin manilla folder with my name printed on it and on the floor beside him was an expensive aluminum briefcase with a complicated combination lock. He looked excited and ran his fingers through already thinning brown-blond hair and tried not to smile. My stomach turned as I smelled some kind of musky, cheap cologne radiating off him.
    “Yes, I heard. Murder two times three, maybe. The police have a confession, kind of. No Crown deals, probably. Is that about it?”
    He moved abruptly and awkwardly like a nervous animal and drummed his fingers on the metal tabletop. “Yes.”
    I carefully put my weight on my feet and fought more nausea to stretch and rotate my hips and then my shoulders. My whole body