The Big Enchilada

him off by swinging the mace, but he no longer seemed concerned and moved steadily forward. He backed me into a corner and was able to keep me there with quick thrusts of the sword. One thrust caught me in the right shoulder and sent a shock of pain down my arm, almost causing me to drop my weapon. I could tell it was not very deep, but my jacket started to darken with absorbed blood. Acker’s pale eyes narrowed and he giggled again.
    “I am The Power,” he hissed through labored breaths.
    He moved back for a small step and drew in his arms. I could see he was preparing for a final thrust. The point of the blade was aimed at my stomach. The chain on my weapon was not long enough to reach him, and I knew I’d have to time my swing with his lunge if I was to avoid being run through.
    Just like a boxer, I kept my eyes fixed on his, hoping they would reveal his intentions a split second before he moved. His eyes darted to the side, I fell to the left just as he came forward, swinging the steel ball with all the force in my arm. The ball went over the out-thrust sword and rose above his head. His forward movement brought him into contact with the ball as it descended. The steel spikes cut into the left side of his head, tearing off the skin from his forehead, the side of his nose, his eye, and most of his cheek. The sword buried itself two inches into the wall as he fell to the floor.
    Taking deep breaths, I knelt over him. Half his face was gone, but my blow had not been strong enough to break the bones. He would live, but no amount of surgery would ever make him resemble anything human again. I was satisfied.
    I took off my jacket and shirt and examined my shoulder. The cut was not bad and the bleeding had nearly stopped. It should have been looked at, but I didn’t want to bother. I went into the bathroom, found some iodine, and poured half a bottle into the wound. That hurt a lot worse than the cut itself.
    I got dressed and went back into the living room. Acker was still motionless and would be for a long time to come, but he was is no danger of dying. The blood was still oozing weakly from his groin, and his skull showed whitely through the ragged flesh of his face.
    I called and got Green at the Black Knight. He had nothing new to report, but it sounded like he was having a hell of a good time. I told him about the money in Acker’s safe deposit box. I told him where he could pick up Acker. I told him he better send an ambulance.
    “He’s not dead, is he?”
    “Hell, no. He’ll only wish that he was.”
    “Hunter, do you intend to go on leaving broken bodies scattered around the city?”
    “Not for much longer. But I can’t help it if people accidentally do themselves an injury, can I?” There was no reply. “Don’t complain. I’m even giving you a bonus with
    “Yeah? What’s that?”
    “Just about two years ago you had a Jane Doe murder victim. I don’t know where the body was found. A fourteen-year-old blond girl. Death by strangulation. The girl’s name was Linda Perdue. Her family lives in Eugene, Oregon. If your photos are any good, they’ll give you an I.D. If not, the dental records will. Acker killed her at the Black Knight.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “There’s a videotape of him doing it. It’s in the apartment where you’ll find Acker.”
    “You’re shitting me.”
    “Would I do that?” I tried to sound offended.
    “Probably.”
    “You might be right, but this is on the level. You can see for yourself.”
    “I intend to. What are you doing now?”
    “I thought I’d go home. Have you taken off the pickup order that’s out on me?”
    “Done.”
    “And you remember what I want you to say if I call you in the morning?”
    “I do. I just wish I knew what you had in mind.”
    “I wish I did as well. If things go right, though, I’ll put the bow on your package, and all your troubles will be over.” He made a skeptical noise as I hung up.
    I was starting to feel tired. I took a last, long look at Simon Acker. I felt better.
    And then I thought of Clarissa Acker.
    I had one more stop to make before I could go home. Time was running out.
    I left the lights on and unlocked the door before I shut it behind me. That would save the police the trouble of breaking it down. I shook my head. I must be going soft.

TWENTY-NINE

    Considering the total success of the evening, I should have been feeling better as I drove up to the Ackers’ Bel Air house, but I