GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES by Don Lewis Wireman, Sr i GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES Copyright © 2008 by Don Wireman, Sr ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Produced by www.lulu.com Created in the United States of America ii To Winnie, Sonja, Don Jr and Rita iii This is a fiction short story The characters and locations are imaginary and are based on no real persons or locations iv GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES LEDAN TRIED TO RECONSTRUCT the scene in his mind The way I figure it—when it happened, the sun had begun to make its descent into the Pacific Ocean The girl in the white dress had stood in the middle of the railroad tracks that ran parallel to the beach She'd just stood there waiting for the four o'clock train from L.A to run her down—must have seen its headlight coming around the turn a mile up the tracks towards L.A long before the train engine had reached her When reality struck home—she couldn't move—terrified—still stood motionless, wondering if it was going to hurt—or if she'd die instantly—or be thrown into a ditch to thrash in terrible pain—blood oozing from her body while she heard the joyful cries of children playing on the San Marquese sand—must have heard the deafening screams of the train's whistle—wanted to change her mind—too late—couldn't force herself to jump out of harm's way— stood—sickened—listening to the serge of the giant engine coming on— louder and louder—felt the railroad tie shaking under her feet as the locomotive's giant, silver surface rushed toward her— Now, the train stood still, panting on its tracks like a giant caterpillar Police cars were parked here and there around it, red and blue lights flashing Alex Ledan was a redheaded Irishman His face looked like it'd been melted, allowed to run a little then allowed to set up that way The tops of his ruddy cheeks billowed out below tiny, deeply sunken, shrewd, green eyes Laugh lines ran away from the corners of his mouth like networks GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES of miniscule highways His chin was a mass of puffy red whiskers, graying up the sides to the temples and beyond Thirty-two, tall and handsome, energetic and well dressed, he was an athletic private detective on holiday at the beach He walked over, kneeled down near what was left of the teenage girl lying next to the train that had hit her, saw her bloodstained white gown, hefted her cold, young hand in his ruddy thin one Damn her luck, he thought The silver locomotive continued to idle impatiently at the end of the long row of silver passenger train cars The massive side of the train car in front of him reflected the golden light of the dying sun—onto him— onto the dead girl—and onto Deputy Sheriff Hanson, an overbearing, paunchy, sandy-haired, blue-eyed Swede in his early forties, who Ledan knew from previous investigations Ledan stood up "The train really messed the poor kid up." Hanson didn't look at Ledan "All you private dicks are alike—all heart." Ledan looked hard at Hanson's face "For a deputy sheriff—I find your attitude very negative." A man rushed up to them He was short, pudgy, obviously shaken, wearing a well-kept railroad hat and gray overhauls "I'm Will Masters—the train engineer." I'm private detective Ledan and this is Deputy Sheriff Hanson "This is obviously a bad time for you—but would you mind answering some questions?" Ledan asked The engineer looked Ledan in the eyes "Anything Anything at all." GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES Ledan looked down at the girl's body "Why did the train hit the girl?" "I don't know," the engineer said, fearfully daubing his eyes with his red handkerchief "I could see maybe a mile ahead I blew the whistle before the crossin' back down there." He turned, pointed back down the tracks from where the train had come "I didn't see 'er She just wasn't there—I swear she wasn't—and then all of a sudden—she was!" Ledan crouched down, took another look at the girl's lifeless body "She hasn't been tied up." He spoke loudly so his voice would carry above the sound of the pounding ocean water "Maybe she was on drugs," Hanson suggested Ledan stood up "The medical examiner can tell if she was What I don't understand—is why she didn't get out of the way—that train whistle could wake the dead Why did she stay on the tracks?" "Maybe she was stone deaf," Hanson suggested Ledan turned to the engineer "That's all the questions I have for now We know where to reach you if we need to talk to you again." The engineer was so glad to be getting back to his job, he bowed, said, "Anytime—anytime—," hurried towards the pulsating engine Ledan began walking alongside the tracks, parallel to the beautiful ocean beach, looking for evidence of foul play, didn't think the girl had committed suicide, couldn't understand why the engineer couldn't see her in time to stop the train He saw a group of surfers in black wet suits grasping for wave tops in the crushing surf, a hundred yards off the white, sandy beach where seagulls were dipping their hungry bills, smelled the exhilarating ocean air GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES His eyes left the water, moved up the sand to some picnic tables and palm trees The wind had wrapped something translucent around a table leg It flickered as it flapped in the light breeze and orange sunlight He walked up to it, touched it It's a sheet of very thin plastic—shiny—like metal, he thought It fascinated him He'd never seen anything like it before He unfolded it It's about eight feet long by four wide, he thought Then he saw the cross on the plastic It was a Christian cross that ran the full length and width of the plastic It had been spray-painted on Then he saw the blood on it Just then the loud roar of a speedboat caught his attention He turned, looked towards the water just in time to see a man leaning against the windshield of a fast-moving boat—aiming a rifle in Ledan's direction Ledan dove onto the sand A hail of bullets from the man's rifle made little spouts of sand leap up as they peppered the beach toward him—they all missed him He got his thirty-eight free of its shoulder holster, began systematically returning fire, heard people on the beach screaming, felt a sigh of relief when he saw the boat turn back out towards the open sea He shook his fist at the shooter, who still occasionally glanced in Ledan's direction to see if he'd hit him Too damn close, Ledan thought, looked first up at the wooden bench a bullet had splintered near his head then out towards the boat We'll meet again—soon You mad bastard Ledan got to his feet He'd have the police lab crew recover the plastic sheet and analyze it The blood on it will probably be the girl's, he thought Then, Ledan realized that the plastic sheet was gone He searched the beach, finally saw it The light wind was slowly tumbling it GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES far down the beach That's the only damned clue I have, he thought as he ran after it The police could not determine where Loretta Marlow, the victim in the white gown, lived Three evenings after her death, Ledan followed up a police scanner report, soon found himself kneeling on a secluded San Marquese street—near another lifeless teenage girl Blood had reddened her white gown Ledan sized up the female driver of the pale green sedan who'd hit the girl, studied the driver's face Blonde female—twenty-one-ish—a little tall for her age—thin, he thought The color of the blonde female driver's face alternated between blue and red as the lights from the parked patrol cars lit it up She was sobbing into her lace handkerchief She began to explain "All of a sudden—I heard a terrible scream—she hit my car—flew over the side of it into the ditch! I didn't see her! I swear! She really wasn't there—then she was!" Hanson began cuffing her wrists "I'm taking you downtown!" Ledan raised his hand like a kid in school "Wait—! I need to talk to her—" "No—!" Hanson said sternly, opened the squad car door "Talk in jail!" Ledan watched Hanson read her her rights, put her in a police car, drive off Ledan was convinced that the similarity in the deaths of two girls in white dresses, neither seen by the drivers of the vehicles that hit them, were no GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES accidents He needed proof, began looking for plastic, soon found another plastic sheet Like the previous one, it had a cross and blood on it Somehow white gowns and fast vehicles plus shiny plastic sheets equal death, he mused Why? He'd try to find out Suddenly, he heard the crack-crack of a distant rifle He hit the dirt—too late—felt a stabbing pain shooting through his left arm, grabbed his arm instinctively, forced himself to get off a couple of thirty-eight shots in the direction the rifle fire had come from He half-rolled—half-slid into a ditch alongside the road, crawled between two shrubs, saw a man with a rifle running across a lawn about fifty yards away—fired at the man—missed The man vanished Ledan's arm was bleeding badly He needed a medic, grabbed his cell and called an ambulance While he waited, he thought about the situation Where the hell did I put that plastic sheet? How can a damned plastic sheet kill somebody? I'll find it, take it to a chemist Maybe there's something in the plastic—poison or something The redheaded chemistry professor at the university played a tough game of water polo—and, Ledan knew she was a damned good chemist He felt sure she'd been right when she'd told him that mirrors could be made from the metallic-colored plastic sheets and maybe he should be looking for a magician Mirrors? That was a serious clue, gave him even more resolve to try to find the serial killer 10 GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES It was late in the afternoon when Ledan finished going through the police files looking for files of local magicians He found three, Michael Watamorris, Tiberius Jackson, and K Lesade Zimm Ledan decided he'd start with Zimm, who did both magic and hypnosis—and had a child molestation record A police officer told Ledan, Zimm was doing a nightly magician show at the Pink Panther Lounge on Alhambra Where the hell's the Pink Panther Lounge on Alhambra? Ledan wondered He could ask somebody—or look it up in a phone book He looked it up The Pink Panther was almost empty when Ledan arrived Three men were playing cards at a table away from the stage A scantily-dressed lady was doing her nails near the footlights A pianist was tickling the keys of a Hurley replica Ledan recognized Zimm from a police photo Zimm was on the small stage performing a magic trick to the accompaniment of the piano Ledan wanted to have a chat with him, but obviously couldn't at the moment, so Ledan sat down at a table, ordered a White Russian from the waitress A teenage girl with a painted, broad, red clown mouth, wearing a white gown and a flower in her black hair was also on stage Zimm swung his black cape in a wide arch around his head then in front of her—like a bullfighter—then stopped it in front of her When he swirled the cape away—poof—the girl had disappeared! That brought Ledan straight up in his chair The magician had gained Ledan's complete attention Visions were tearing through Ledan's mind A white gown—fast vehicle—dim light—equals disappearing— 11 GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES dead girl, he thought, sprang to his feet "Loretta Marlow! Mary Tonstedder!" Ledan shouted, naming the two dead girls found in bloody white gowns Zimm—startled, glanced at Ledan—dropped his cape, ran backstage The stage curtain was quickly lowered to the floor Ledan vaulted onto the stage, spread the curtains open with his hands and bolted after Zimm—into near-darkness Ledan didn't see Zimm in time Zimm fired a small pistol at him The bullet missed Ledan only by inches Ledan got off two quick shots with his thirty-eight There was a deadly silence—then Ledan heard Zimm's body hit the backstage floor Ledan cautiously walked up to Zimm, found him on his back, holding his bleeding stomach Ledan disarmed him, raised the backdrop, grabbed the stage curtains—jerked them open "Somebody—call an ambulance—!" he yelled With his usual bad timing, Deputy Sheriff Hanson and four uniformed men, pistols drawn, burst through the lounge door, ran between tables to the stage "Looks like we're just in time!" Hanson said Ledan saw the mirror-like plastic sheet on the stage floor that had made it appear as if the girl had disappeared, held it up, flipped it around and showed the black cross on it to Zimm "Why the cross?" Ledan asked Zimm His question reached deaf ears—Zimm was dead The clown-faced girl in the white dress had run and hid during the shootout She reappeared, came back on stage dead?" she asked "Zimm's dead," Ledan confirmed 12 "Is that dickhead GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES She took the plastic from Ledan's hand Ledan holstered his thirty-eight "What's the plastic for?" he asked the girl "Crazy crap! He gave us a suck job about how it was supposed to protect us," she said, holding it up "It didn't protect Loretta or Mary!" "How was it supposed to protect you?" Ledan asked "He made us put on these stupid gowns and carry this plastic crap with the cross on it in front of us." "Then what?" Ledan asked "Then he said over and over again, 'You're feelin' sleepy You can anything and no harm will come to you Jesus will protect you, because you are doing good You're holding up His cross before you." "Why did he want Loretta and Mary to die?" "They were sick of his crap They were going to rat to the cops." "Tell the cops what?" Hanson broke in "The cock made us whore for money—we're runaways." Now Ledan understood what the mirror-like plastic sheets had done They'd reflected the surroundings, made each girl disappear—right in front of a fast-moving vehicle—instant death Zimm had hypnotized them—exploited them—and probably killed two of them There's the possibility the girls had knowingly used the trick as a way to commit suicide They're just as dead either way, Ledan thought He sat down on the edge of the stage then slid himself off onto the floor, walked through the lounge, pushed out through the lounge door The ocean air smelled great I'll get some sleep, now, he thought Hanson had followed him out "Where the hell you think you're goin'?" Ledan didn't turn around "To sleep I'm on vacation, remember?" 13 GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES "Not 'til we write up the report." Ledan laughed, turned around, went back inside The End 14