Murder In Mexico City

Washington on this February night was cold and wet. I was staying at the Hay-Adams Hotel, a short walk to the White House and too many of its great restaurants. I liked staying at the Hay-Adams with its wonderful antiques, the plush interior, and great food. Because of the hotel’s location they all came here, the great, the famous and the sleazes. Now days it’s hard to distinguish one from the other. I don’t know exactly where I fit in and don’t much care, I just like the place.

I stepped outside, and the doorman said. "I heard you were here Colonel. Welcome back. Will you be needing a cab, Sir?"

"No thanks Sarge, the walk will do me good. Long flight."

"At least take an umbrella, the rain could get worse. I insist Colonel."

I had to laugh. "From one old jungle fighter to another?"

The doorman took a large orange colored umbrella from his stand and opened it.

"Ain’t that the truth Colonel? We saw enough of this stuff back in the jungles of Colombia. What a hellhole. Who needs it?"

"You’re right about that. Sorry, you missed the action in the first Gulf War. No umbrellas needed there."

"Good God, Colonel that seems like a million years ago."

"Don’t worry Sarge, you didn’t miss anything. Hardly worth getting out of bed for."

"Have a great evening sir," then turned and slowly withdrew his cell phone from the pocket of his rain slicker.

I crossed Lafayette Square. Sarge had been right, for the rain increased, blowing down through the trees as I passed the statue of Andrew Jackson. I could have taken a taxi but the restaurant where I was to meet General Wolfson and Senator Cox was only seven blocks from the hotel, and I needed the fresh air.

I was coming to the other end of the square, lost in my own thoughts when I heard the voices. Through the haze of the street lamp I saw them clearly enough, two street people, both wearing old Vietnam bomber jackets, wet with rain and talking loudly. From my distance they looked identical at least in dress. However, the closer I got I saw that one was bald and black. The other was a large white man with a long blond ponytail down his back. They were drinking beer from cans and one had kicked an empty towards me. Then ponytail stepped in front of me.

"Hey Fucker, where do you think your going?"

"Me and my buddy wants to see how much money you got in your wallet and we ain’t got all night."

I ignored him and moved forward, when the black dude produced a knife, the blade jumped forward in one swift motion.

I closed the umbrella and smiled.

"Can I help you gents?" I said.

"Yeah honkie, you can give me your money and watch asshole, unless you want some of this." And he waved the seven-inch blade in the air.

Ponytail was standing next to baldly and laughed an ugly sound. I swung the umbrella, the medal tip catching the black man under the chin. He dropped to one knee and I put the bottom of my shoe into the kneeling man’s face with such force I could hear the crunch.