Joseph

Joseph slowly capped the pen and put it down carefully. He was breathing hard, his hands were shaking, and his heart was racing, but he still clung to old habits, like capping a pen not in use.

He swallowed hard and pushed the big man's body off, and got up.

Can't keep making mistakes like this, he thought while catching his breath. One of these days I'm not going to be fast enough, strong enough, or lucky enough.

His shirt was covered in blood, the other man's blood, and so were his hands and face.

Should've kept it simple. Sniper rifle, a remote bomb, or just run him over. Why did I try to get close?

Joseph went into the bathroom and took his shirt off. His hands were still shaking.

'Cause I'm stupid. Stupid and curious. Like to understand why I gotta plug someone, like to see them up close. Stupid.

He threw the shirt in the tub, and began to rinse the blood from his body. The warm water helped relax, but the adrenaline was still coursing through his body.

No time to shower, just get cleaned enough not to attract attention outside. It's getting dark anyways. Still can't just hang around here.

A couple of minutes later, a much calmer Joseph returned in the main room of the hotel suite and studied the two bodies on the floor. The air conditioner kept humming away, keeping the room at a constant 67F. Joseph turned the temperature down to the lowest setting, then smudged his fingerprints.

At least there wasn't much noise. The old man died right away, and this gorilla must've been mute or something. Not a word, not a noise, not even when I stabbed him with the pen. Freaky.

He looked at the old man in a suit. The stiletto was buried in the man's chest, and his face was still a mixture of surprise and pain.

More or less my size. Good.

Joseph went in the bedroom and proceeded to dig through the old man's luggage, pulling out clothes and throwing them around.

Three suits. He brings three suits with him, six changes of underwear, but not the hint of an extra pair of dress shoes??

Finally, after much searching all over the bedroom, he pulled a pair of sneakers out of a drawer. From the pile of clothes, he chose two shirts, a long sleeved white shirt and a black polo shirt, and put on the white one. Then he picked a garment bag from the wardrobe and went back in the main room. He put the items on the coffee table and walked over to the big man, who was lying in a large puddle of blood. Joseph walked in it, pulled his pocket knife out, crouched near the man, and carefully picked the the man's right hand up.

Damn pig had such a grip on my neck he nearly ripped it off.

As Joseph scraped underneath the man's nails, he noticed something glimmering on that man's belt. A police badge.

Great. I killed a cop. Doubt I could pass this as self defence. Shit.

A lot more hastily, he cleaned the other hand.

Why was he here? Did they setup a sting op? Trying to set the old man up? Did they know I'd be here tonight? Nah, I took a chance and went ahead, no one knew of today. So why was he here?

He quickly checked inside the cop's shirt, but he didn't see a wire.

Was this pig dirty? Trying to shake the old man down? Why didn't he make a sound? Don't think cops hire mutes these days, not even their standards are that low. So why was he quiet? Did he know something?

He looked around the room. The window was closed and the shades were pulled.

Yeah, all closed and tight, doesn't mean this place ain't bugged or someone ain't listening in with a laser mike.

Joseph got up, walked on the carpet to wipe his shoes clean, and turned on the television. Some news station was reporting that today they were close to breaking their summer record high. He wiped his hands on his shirt, retrieved the items he left on the coffee table, and went back to the bathroom. There, he changed in the black polo shirt and changed in the sneakers, then he used the white shirt to wipe down all the bathroom fixtures. He took out of his pants pocket a pair of sticky fake mustaches and applied them.

Not much of a disguise, but people are confused easily. I look like I'm straight out of the 70's.

Finally he picked up his old bloody shirt by the few clean spots, and rolled it and his old shoes in the white shirt, and then dumped it all in the bathroom garbage bag, which he then picked up and put in the garment bag.

He walked in the main room and slowly scanned it to make sure he didn't leave obvious tracks or signs, other than the two large conspicuous dead bodies. He looked at the coffee table and noticed a piece of art.

Someone must've paid a lot of dough to have this goblet smuggled in the country. Doubt it was found in a yard sale, more likely a museum.

He took the goblet and gazed at it.

So the old man was into arts and crafts. An art dealer. Why did they send me to snuff him? Did he take this from someone he shouldn't have? Sending me ain't exactly an everyday kinda thing. Why the plain clothes cop? Why was he so quiet? This ain't right, something feels wrong.

The goblet was old. A metal cup, baroque, encrusted with colored glass and gems, some dents here and there. He put it in the garment bag.

Maybe it's nothing, he thought. Maybe this has nothing to do with me being here along with a mute cop, but I've never seen such a thing. Might come handy as a bargain chip later. Or as a flower pot if no one cares.

Joseph quietly opened the door and cleaned the handle. He waited two seconds listening for any sound from the corridor, then stepped out, put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside handle, and carefully closed the door, wiping the handle before going toward the stair well. He went down one story, then headed to the elevators. He pressed the call button and waited.

Someone started shouting from one of the guest rooms, then silence, then more commotion, louder, closer. Someone must have opened their door.

"ACH! Screw you!" someone yelled. "You filthy whore!"

Joseph didn't turn, but shifted his garment bag to the hand closer to the wall.

More curses and then the noise of a door slamming shut, then a litany of curses followed. A few seconds later, a very short man joined Joseph in the elevator waiting area.

"Bitch!" the short man exclaimed while zipping up his jeans.

More good news, though Joseph. A drunken dwarf. A drunken, stinky, foul mouthed dwarf.

The short man mumbled to himself, then yelled out. "Whore!" and spat on the carpet.

The circus must be in town. First the amazing giant mute cop, now the drunken midget. Must've had a fight with the bearded lady.

Joseph smiled, more to his fortune than to the situation, and the man eyeballed him.

"What?" The short man was loud and his breath stank of beer. "What ya laughin' at?" He was drooling while talking.

"Yeah, fancy pants, I'm talking to you!" The man continued. "Never seen an angry man?? Yeah, a man! Not a dwarf. A man. I'm a man, you motherfucker, a man!"

"I'm sorry," said Joseph turning to him, but without looking him in the eyes. "I wasn't laughing at you, I was just thinking of my girlfriend."

Either girlfriend or funny joke, but he'd take funny joke personally.

"Fuck her," the short man sneered, and spat again.

Joseph looked away.

Don't get involved. Don't get in a fight with the gnome. He's loud and will attract attention. Plus there's nowhere to dispose of the corpse, no matter the size. Maybe he'd fit in the ashtray. Damn smoking bans.

"I fucked your girlfriend," said the man between burps. "And your mother too." He was looking at Joseph with bleary eyes, fixing his gaze on Joseph's face.

Joseph ignored him and the elevator finally arrived. They both got in, Joseph first, and he pressed the ground floor button.

"Ain't ya gonna ask me where I'm headin'?" asked the man. "Not important enough for you?"

Joseph kept ignoring him.

He's itching for a fight, but this is the wrong place and the wrong time.

Joseph looked up without moving his head, and saw the elevator camera. The power led was on, but there wasn't any buzzing sound as powered electronics make.

Someone decided to go for the effect, rather than the functionality. God bless cheapskates.

"I'm talking to you, motherfucker. Are ya gonna give me my respect, or do I have to fuckin beat it out of ya?"

"You're a man," Joseph said without turning. "You don't need my help."

And I don't need you, ever. Hope you die of alcohol poisoning, he added mentally.

"Damn right I'm a man! More man than you'll ever be, motherfucker!"

Ten floors to go, thought Joseph. Keep the freak calm, just let him rant and don't smile, argue, or anything. Just let him be, maybe he will pass out on his own.

"Fucking right," the man said with a burp. "Takes guts to be me, ya hear. No one ever gives Randy a free ride, never got an easy deal, you bastard." Randy burped again. "And I still made it. Not fucking thanks to you, you lousy son of a bitch."

Six floors to go. Six long floors to spend with the midget from hell. In the slowest elevator in the fucking universe.

"You should get on your knees and thank me for not killing you," kept ranting Randy. "You should get on your knees and kiss my ass. Fucking right. You should bow to me, you fucking asshole."

Joseph took a deep breath, and Randy got even more agitated.

This is not good. This freak is gonna cause a scene. All eyes will be on me and him, some security camera, a real one, will record my face and someone will remember me. Gotta get out of this.

"You should kiss my ass now, right now! On your knees, bitch!"

Joseph dropped his bag and his hand darted to the elevator console to press the third floor button as the elevator crossed the fourth.

"What the fuck are ya.." started Randy, but Joseph grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in front of himself. All of a sudden there was fear in Randy's eyes.

"Son of a.." protested Randy, but Joseph headbutted him, and as the elevator doors opened, he kicked him violently in the solar plexus while letting him go. Randy flew out of the elevator, crashing on the opposite wall, while Joseph kept pressing the "Close Doors" button.

OK, he thought as the elevator resumed his slow drive down. Maybe I should've got out myself, but what if he followed me? Maybe I should've tried to befriend the midget. Offered to buy him a drink, even if it meant to spend more time with him. Yeah, I could've definitively handle this situation better. He sighed. Whatever. It felt good to kick that midget's ass! Joseph smiled and the elevator arrived to the ground floor.

He put on his sunglasses, and walked through the small crowd in the lobby, his bag in hand.

Outside the sky was dark, the street lights were already on, and mosquitoes flew through the muggy air to fry on an electric bug zapper.

Joseph walked to his stolen rental car, put the bag in the trunk, and headed out of town.

Another day like this, he thought, and I'll seriously retire.