“But why Matt?” I hear myself ask. Truth is, I’m back in the park, back to my last memory of Matt as I see him dash off eagerly for the ball, and as I turn my attention to the approaching girls.
“Oh, I didn’t have a problem justifying it, Jimmy boy. First off, I wanted to kill a person. It was time to kill a person. Second of all, Olivia always loved you. Even back when we were in high school, she always loved you.”
Perhaps it was true. I had always sensed Olivia had feelings for me, although we had never acted on them.
“Was I always jealous?” asks Eddie. He reaches up and touches his nose for the first time, and winces. “Of course.”
I lower the gun a little. I’m having trouble keeping it pointed straight. Truth is, it feels like I’m holding a dumbbell straight out from my body.
Eddie gives me a crooked smile. Blood coats his lip. Outside, I hear cars come and go in the apartment parking lot.
“I take it you put together my little riddle?”
I still say nothing. I am conserving what energy I have to do whatever it is I must do.
“We were in algebra together, Jimmy. Studying pi and its infinite possibilities. I suppose I could have carved the symbol for pi on your brother’s chest—”
But he doesn’t finish. I raise the gun again and point it at his face, holding it as steady as ever.
“If you’re going to shoot, you should probably shoot. Because you’re only going to get weaker, Jimmy. And I can promise you this: one of us is going to die. So, if you’re a smart man, you should probably just pull the trigger.”
“And send you into Infinity, Eddie?” I ask.
His smirk fades. “It’s a good place to be.” He now begins circling me slowly. I pivot, following him down the sight of my gun. He says, “Was it that last clue that finally helped you piece the whole damn thing together, Jimmy?”
I’m ready to pull the trigger, but I hesitate for reasons that I can’t explain.
“I mean, my God, I practically spelled it out for you.”
I don’t mention that I nearly didn’t figure it out. That most people in their right minds wouldn’t call a cheesecake a pie, but then again, Eddie isn’t in his right mind.
“And then I show up and happen to talk about Infinity and all its possibilities.” He stops near the refrigerator. “But you did good, Jimmy. I’m real impressed.”
“Why did you kill Olivia?”
“Olivia wanted to leave me,” he says, shrugging. “I couldn’t have that. Besides, I’d been looking for a reason to kill her. That was as good as any.”
“And the boy, Angel?”
“Is that his name? I had no idea. The boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was in a bit of a mood, you could say. Took it out on him, I guess.”
“Why pi?” I ask.
“Why not? Every killer needs his signature. Infinity is something real to me. Math is something real to me. Death is real. Blood is real. I enjoyed playing a game.”
“You’re a psychopath,” I say.
“I prefer sociopath,” says Eddie, “but, really, they’re one and the same. I could never understand why death meant nothing to me. So, I killed again and again, and cared less and less.”
“So then, why do it?” I ask.
“It was fun. It gave me a rush.”
“Were there any more?”
“Of course. Bums mostly. Prostitutes sometimes. A girlfriend once who pissed me off long ago. Strangled her. But they weren’t as fun. I would rather play a game.”
“Because you think you’re smarter than everyone else.”
“No, because it was fun.”
“Why did you hire me?”
“Because I was tired of playing the game, Jimmy.”
“You wanted to be caught?”
“No, I wanted you to know.”
I grip the gun a little tighter. “You wanted me to know that you killed my little brother?”
“The answer, in a nutshell, is yes.”
“And then what?”
“And I was going to put you out of your misery.”
“Nice of you,” I say.
Eddie smiles and some of that old familiar charm comes back. But the truth is, I’m seeing Eddie for the first time in a new light. Whatever face he puts on for the rest of the world is gone. His eyes look different, dead. His color has faded.
“Didn’t you know I would come for you?” I say.
“Admittedly, I thought you would meet in the woods, or call me over to your place. I didn’t know you would break my fucking nose. So what now?” he asks. “A bullet to my head? Claim it was self-defense? A pussy way to go, Booker.”
“As opposed to killing kids?”
“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t a pussy. I just expected more from you, Mr. Private Eye Detective.”
I take out my cell phone and hold it up, where I had been recording this entire conversation. I showed him the recording. I next turn off the recording feature. He watches me carefully.
“I’m not going to kill you, Eddie. But I am going to kick your ass within an inch of your life.”
He snorts as I set the phone and gun down on the kitchen counter.
Eddie doesn’t wait. He doesn’t laugh hysterically or tell me that I am going to regret this. He simply rushes me as fast as he can.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I may not have much strength, and Eddie may be healthy as hell—at least, physically—but I do know how to fight. And I have adrenaline and rage on my side.
He comes in swinging, and I duck the wildly thrown blows and drive my fist hard into his nose again. He curses, but does not stop coming at me.
I realize my punches don’t have a lot of force—or weight—behind them. But I make up for it by delivering them accurately and correctly. Accurate and correct trump strength every time.
I punch Eddie again and again, but he’s picking me up off my feet and running me backwards. My swinging blows have no effect on him, and he drives me hard into the closed front door. I gasp, the air exploding from my feeble lungs.
As I suck in air, Eddie steps back and lands a thunderous blow that sends me reeling to the side, stumbling. I see him smile just as he throws another wild punch that connects with the side of my jaw. I stumble some and crash into a china hutch.
I’m gasping. My head is spinning. I’ve been in many fights. You can’t work in my line of business and do what I do in particular and not find yourself in your share of fights. But I can’t get my bearings. I can’t see straight.