Hank James, Boy Detective.
After being pushed out of the majors wrongly, due to a mistake involving drugs and teammates, Hank James was en route to a smaller version of success with the independent league team The Cedar Falls HooseCows, composed only of baseball players with past criminal problems. Hank had been able to distract himself from the two murders associated with the team (a murder on Valentine’s Day when Billy Royce was killed after being sent by manager Taylor Nickles to recruit Hank, and another body discovered near the stadium and by the river). Now, Hank’s luck at the plate has changed for the worse . . .
“It’s nothing,” Hank had said to John Todd, back in the locker room. He had grabbed the folded sheet of paper from the floor and shoved it back into his locker. Now, leaning on the top rail of the dugout, he winced. It was exactly that kind of a moment that had gotten him kicked out of the pros in the first place.
The Mason City Ugly Birds were not any more civilized when out of their home ballpark. Disturbingly, the hillbilly family had brought their horrifying dead bird taxidermy nightmare with them, and they held it up to the small handful of hillbillies that followed them like a mascot or totem. Their fans in the stands roared appreciatively whenever the dead thing was raised into the air. Hank still thought all of them were related, even the fans. He even thought the small, skinny runt on the team was related, but he may have been more the milkman’s child than the son of the big, beastly man coaching and playing on the team.
Todd was on the mound today, and he was clearly rattled. The Ugly Birds had taken to stepping out of the box, pointing at the pitcher, and baring their teeth like dogs whenever they thought a pitch was too close to the inside of the plate. Todd was fighting off the anger and intimidation, but he was starting to back off of pitching inside and he had give up a double and a home run in this half of the inning. To make matters worse, Taylor Nickles wasn’t even looking at the mound anymore, and the disgust on his face was clear.
Hank was nervous enough as it was, and the piece of paper Todd had nearly seen in the locker room was now in his back pocket, and he kept touching the edge of it to make sure it was still there. There was only one out in the inning, and John Todd promptly gave up a single. As the Ugly Bird outfielder named Dick Swede stomped on first base and puffed out his chest, Hank turned away and eyed his pitcher. Todd used his glove to block any lipreaders and he told the infield he had it under control.
The piece of paper in Hank’s back pocket was a list of names of HooseCows Taylor Nickles thought could’ve killed the girl whose body they found out by the river. The list had been scribbled down hastily, and he had already crossed out Mickey Danz’s name.
“He’s not organized enough to have gotten away with it. He could’ve done it, but he couldn’t have gotten away with it.” Taylor told him. He gave the list to Hank, who immediately shoved it deep into his pocket.
“Why do you want me looking?” Hank said. “How do you know it’s one of ours?”
“Because I just have a bad feeling that’s the kind of thing that happens when you bring in a team of criminals.”
Hank nodded and looked out at the parking lot. It was barely filling up in preparation of the game that night, and Hank wondered again if anyone would make any money off of this league. Taylor had told him, once, that most of the start-up money had come from the owner of the Rochester Radiation. The owner was hoping the cities would buy the teams back from him after a successful first year.
“Have you talked to the cops?” Hank asked.
“Don’t need to,” Taylor said. “You’re the team captain, right?”
Hank pulled his focus from the list and pounded his fist into his glove. Todd threw a hard fastball inside, and the sloppy Ugly Birds batter named Gus Swede took a bad swing and split his bat in two. The fat half twirled into the infield and, when it landed, scuttled across the dust near shortstop. The batter looked at the other half in his hands and began cursing. He turned toward Todd and started walking out to the mound. Pointing at the pitcher with the busted bat, the Ugly Bird started barking threats.
“These bats ain’t cheap, and you know we got the least money in the league. You think just cause you and the Cedar Falls team have more money you can break all our shit so we can’t play no more. Guess what? You want to play like a real man, you can’t play like that.”
By now, both benches were standing and ready to storm the field. Hank and the other infielders were moving in on the pitcher’s mound. The slack-jawed outfielder at first base was clapping and grinning.
“If you want to stop being such a sissy baby, you’ll get off that mound right now and you’ll walk over and get me one of your bats. Because if you don’t . . .”
Before he could finish, he straightened up like his spine was pulled straight.Gus Swede wailed loudly and all of the Ugly Birds got off of the bench and rushed the field, and the HooseCows followed suit.
“Think there’s still some life left in your old bat, asshole,” the HooseCows’ shortstop Drew Harrold said. Drew had jammed the sharp other half of the busted bat into the upper thigh of the complaining batter. It hung there for a moment, then swung down and pulled itself out of his leg and ripped open a gaping wound. The blood came quickly. Gus turned to face the infielder as if to fight, and then grabbed his leg and began swearing again.
By this time players from both teams were face to face with each other on the field. There was some pushing and yelling, but most of the Ugly Birds were concerned with getting their bleeding teammate off of the field. The umpire had already thrown Drew out of the game. There were a few more shoves and a lot of posturing, and then it ended like most baseball fights do, without much more damage being done.
Taylor smiled and welcomed the team back into the locker room, genuinely undisturbed his team had forfeited the game. Everyone smiled and clapped Drew Harrold on the back. Hank did, too. Now, he knew why Drew’s name was on the list in his pocket. John Todd gave Drew Harrold a big hug, and Hank was glad the pitcher hadn’t seen the list, because Todd’s name was on it, too.
(NEXT)
