Page 7 of Haven't Killed in Years
“I don’t know. It’s interesting.” This was not going smoothly, mostly on my part. I thought it would be obvious what to say once I met the visitor. We would have a showdown and I would be likeWhat’s your problem? Quit dropping arms off at my door. I don’t want to play this game with you.But I couldn’t get a read off this guy.
“Are you really interested?” he asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. He scanned the parking lot, and the shadiness factor skyrocketed.
I rubbed my lips together and let my eyes narrow.Okay, you asshole, I’ll bite, I thought. I let the corner of my mouth curl up into the beginnings of a smile that said bothvery interestedandI will not hesitate to destroy you.Your move now, buddy. Tread lightly.
From his pocket he produced a business card and handed it to me. “I run a tour out of Boston. Just started a few weeks ago. We go to all the crime scenes and his old house. It’s the only one like it out there.”
I looked down at the card I now found in my hand. On one side was the tour website and the guy’s name and number,Call Dominic. On the other was a clip art van being driven by a cartoon devil with my father’s signature beard. A tour. A tour guide. This was a fate worse than death.
Seven
The Abel Haggerty MurderTour left Sundays at eleven a.m. from a side street adjacent to the New England Aquarium. There had been no more arms, no announcements about the first two I’d planted, no nothing. While I’m sure the severed limbs had been intended to upset me, the waiting was proving to be far more agonizing.
My Sunday mornings were usually reserved for Painting Pots, but so was almost every other day, including yesterday and probably tomorrow. I had a slightly more pressing extracurricular activity for once.
I convinced Porter to call in sick so I could bring him along. I knew he would add a levity to the experience and keep me sane. I needed someone to carry the small talk. I needed to observe at first, not reveal too much. I could count on Porter to fill silences and keep the guy talking. Plus, this would buy me some time before Porter would start hounding me to go out with him again.
We walked past seven kiosks for other tours before I saw him.Waiting between two generic city tours, he stood alone, holding a sign with the same ridiculous van-and-devil graphic, forcing an inviting smile on passing tourists.
We made eye contact and he lowered the sign. “Hey!” He waved.
“Do you know him?” asked Porter.
“I met him once.”
“Twist.” Porter elbowed me in the side. “Thirsty—”
“Don’t say it!” I reciprocated with an elbow to his side.
Dominic ditched his sign against the curb as we approached.
“Hey,” he repeated. “Sorry, I don’t think you told me your name the other day.”
“Gwen. Dominic, right?”
He smiled, extending his hand to mine. “Yeah.” His fingers were icicles.
“I’m Porter.” My accomplice inserted himself and Dominic dropped my hand for his. “Holy shit, your hands are cold.”
“Oh, sorry.” Dominic recoiled and rubbed his hand against his tight jeans. “I’ve been out here for a few hours trying to drum up business.”
“And…?” Porter made a scene of looking around for other customers.
“And I’m so glad you guys showed up.” Dominic landed the setup. “Shall we go?”
“To the deathmobile.” Porter pointed with fervor in no particular direction.
Dominic reached down for his sign, waiting for my answer.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
The black van was parked two blocks away in a loading zone.
“Shotgun,” Porter yelled as he picked up his pace. His enthusiasm was exceeding expectations. He loved true crime podcasts and documentaries, but mostly theSerialandMaking a Murderertype thatwere part of the zeitgeist. This was literally just a van in an alley, so the hullabaloo was a bit much.
Dominic opened the van door for me and I climbed onto the bench seat. Porter was already buckled in and ready. Dominic walked around the van and got into the driver’s seat. He grabbed at his hair, jerking it up like he was styling it, but then just left it pointing in all directions. He adjusted the rearview mirror, wiggling it back and forth before returning it to its original position.
“Welcome to the Abel Haggerty Murder Tour,” he began. “My name is Dominic and I will be your tour guide.”
