The Death of Arthur Kliessen [redo]

THE DEATH OF ARTHUR KLIESSEN1

Ace drove down a street in a seedy neighborhood in Southeast Houston, in his old Ford station wagon. He had already put two engines in the car, but he liked it, and so he kept it, and paid the repair bills.2

Brandon Melcher was his real name, but no one dared call him Brandon. Ace considered it "wimpy", and would pull his gun real quick and get in your face if you called him Brandon. And, nobody wanted to mess with Ace Melcher.3

For Ace was a killer you see, and most everyone in Houston knew it. Oh, sure, he had a license that said he was a "private detective", but what he really was, was a bounty hunter and a hired assassin. Tonight, he was looking for one named Arthur Kliessen, a con man who had made the mistake of ripping off the wrong people; a little outfit that called themselves "The Club", who made their living by running casinos, and women, and protection rackets.4

The Club had been looking for "Art" [as he called himself], for a long time, but hadn't been able to find him, and so they hired Ace to do the dirty work. His fee was $50,000 dollars, and they gave him the whole amount up front. Ace had worked for them before, and they had a great deal of confidence in him. The Club had long ago given up on collecting the money, so Ace's instructions were simple: "Kill him", they said.5

Ace was born in Houston, but he didn't often come here, usually only when he was on "assignment". He had been seated in a comfy chair in a ski resort in Colorado, watching people hurt themselves on the slopes, when he got the call. "He's here in Houston", the caller said, and then instantly hung up. Ace got up and immediately and started packing his bags. He wasn't quite sure who the caller was, but he didn't care; his livelihood depended on him having contacts all over the world. And he did, for there were a lot of people that "owed" Ace Melcher.6

So, he drove down to Houston and rented an apartment, close to the area where he thought Art might be hanging out. He then went out and canvassed the bars in the local neighborhood, knowing what Art liked. Art had a weakness for whiskey and women, so Ace showed pictures to the workers, asking if they had seen him. A couple of them asked "why do you want to know"?7

And Ace had replied, "Because I'm going to kill him".8

30 minutes ago, a barmaid from "El Toro Rojo" had called him and said, "He's here, baby", and Ace had jumped in his wagon, and started his drive there. He was almost there now...9

Ace pulled into the parking lot, and found a spot to park. His old wagon was so big, he took up nearly two spots, but Ace didn't care. He reached inside his jacket and undid the strap on his shoulder holster, so he could get his gun out quickly, if he needed. In this part of Houston, you had to be careful, and Ace had seen some murky figures hanging around in the shadows of the building. But, when Ace stepped out of the car, they all disappeared; evidently they knew Ace...10

When Ace entered the bar, one of the table waitresses stepped up, and pressed herself against him. She wiggled her breasts against his chest, and smiled and said, "Do you want a table?" Ace smiled, and told her no, he was going to sit at the bar. "Too bad", she said, and bit his cheek, and then walked off with a smile and a swing as wide as Texas.11

He'd already spied Art, when he walked in the door. Art was sitting at a table in the back left hand corner, an Asian girl on one side, a black girl on the other, and the money and the whiskey were flowing. Ace sat in the front of the horseshoe bar, and ordered a gin and tonic, real light on the tonic. He started to take some money out of his pocket, but the barmaid said, "It's on the house, honey".12

Then, she said "Did you see him back there, baby"?13

And Ace replied, "Yes, I did, thank you, baby", knowing that she was the one who had called him.14

All at once, Art sensed that he was there, and opened his eyes and searched the bar. And he saw him, sitting right in front, and a chill came over him. But then Ace winked, and gave him his little crooked smile, and Art knew he had a few more hours to live. And so he smiled, and drank some whiskey, and put his hands back between his "guests" legs.15

"The road goes on forever, and the party never ends" thought Ace, quoting a line from an old Robert Earl Keen song.16

Lost in his thoughts, Ace felt, rather than saw someone slide onto the stool next to him; when he turned he saw Angela, a beautiful Latina from the neighborhood, whom Ace had met before. Angela was wearing a little black party dress, short on the legs, and low in the front and back. She gave Ace a heavenly smile, and said, "How are you, Ace"?17

When the barmaid came by, she ordered a gin and tonic, light on the tonic, and then placed her hand in his lap and pressed a leg up against him. They drank and made small talk for a while, then Ace asked her if she would like to go outside.18

"Sure, honey", she said, and then pressed up close against him. Ace put his arm around her waist and guided her out to the old Ford. They climbed into the back; Angela pulled down her top, while Ace pulled up her skirt, and the old Wagon rocked for quite awhile thereafter.19

When at last when they were finished, that got out of the car, hair disheveled and their breath short, pulling and tugging at their clothes to make them fit right.20

"Baby", she said, "are you here on business tonight"?21

"I'm afraid so", replied Ace, nodding his head.22

" I thought so, baby, that's about the only time I ever get to see you anymore", Angela said, pouting. "I'm going to cruise on home, I'll see you next time, ok"?23

And Ace said " Ok"; what else could he say?24

He watched her swing off down the street, into the Houston darkness, not afraid of man or beast. Ace reflected on a time long ago, when Angela was a sophomore and he was a senior, and they were lovers and friends. "Ah, what boyish memories" thought Ace, and then turned to walk back into "El Toro Rojo".25

Ace entered the bar, and saw that his barstool was still there for him [of course]. The barmaid was just setting down a fresh drink for him, and smiled and winked at him, and said "Have a good time honey"? Ace sheepishly smiled and nodded his head, and then sat down to have his drink.26

Looking back in the corner, he saw that Art and his "friends" were still there, drinking and groping. Every few seconds they would glance at Ace, hoping he would go away, but Art knew that Ace wasn't going anywhere. And so, he raved on...27

Quickly, two AM rolled around, and the barmaids started screaming "Last call for alcohol". Ace got off his stool, and walked towards Art's table, and the bar started emptying real quick. Art's girls shrank in fear as Ace came closer, and Art placed his head in his hands.28

"Ace...Ace", Art said, "do you think there's anyway you could give me the rest of the night, these...ah...ladies have bad habits, and I still have about 500 c-notes to give them, you know". Ace only hesitated a split second, and said:29

"Sure, why not, just give me your weapons". 30

So Art took a gun out of his belt, and one out of his left boot, and handed them to Ace. The women looked at him like he was crazy, but Art knew he was finished, because he knew that Ace Melcher always fulfilled his "contracts"; even if he got away now, he would only be caught later. Why not end it while there was a party going on?31

So Ace bade them to follow him, and everyone clambered into his old wagon, and drove them to his apartment. Once inside, Ace told them "Ya'll take that bedroom there", and Ace retired into is own bedroom, and drifted into sleep while listening to the giggles and cries from the other...32

He awoke at just about daybreak, groggy and tired, and suffering from a gin headache. He went to the bathroom and took care of his "duties", and then put on a clean shirt, and a fresh jacket. The only sign of Art and the girls was a few dollars scattered on the floor, and a few burnt "pipes". But Ace looked out a window, and saw his "buddy" leaning up against the adjacent building, smoking a cigarette, and looking up at the sky. Art had even gone so far as to make coffee for them, and with slightly shaking hands, Ace poured himself a cup.33

He walked outside, into a beautiful, cool, morning, as so often happens in Houston late in the month of February. The sun was rapidly coming, and high wispy clouds seemed immobile in the sky. And...there...right over there, a songbird sang his song, giving music to the morn.34

Ace finished his coffee, and dropped his cup on the ground. Art finished his cigarette, and crushed the butt in the ground. And Ace started to walk toward him...35

Mothers in the courtyard were quickly calling their children in, as Ace came face-to-face with him. 36

"Arthur, are you ready?", said Ace. Art didn't speak, but nodded his head, and even forced a little grin on his face. So Ace raised his piece in front of his forehead. But the songbird had flown much closer, and Art turned to look at him, and hear his song one last time.37

Ace gave him a second, and then shot him in the side of the head, and Art fell backwards, into a pile of brain matter and blood. And the songbird flew down and sat on the ground beside them...but he wasn't singing anymore.38

Ace smiled at the bird, for he'd oft seen him before. Then he broke from his reverie, and threw Art's guns down beside him, and went into his apartment and grabbed his bags. 39

As he was headed out to his Ford, he encountered an old man digging through a dumpster.40

"They are coming, senor", said the old man.41

"Yes, I know", said Ace, and drove out through the gate.42

He heard distant sirens wailing in the distance, as he turned East on I-10, heading for Florida.43

Because, you see, Ace had a little "job" to finish there as well....44