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Friday, 20 September 2024

The Boxcar Murders by Maxine Flam, whiskey

'Riding the rails. This is the life,’ said Jimmy to his partner, Willy, as they got comfortable sitting up against the back corner of the boxcar next to the caboose. It’s the late 1970s. Jumping trains has gone down since the peak during the Great Depression. During the Depression, people rode the rails in search of work. Now, people jump railcars, a dangerous practice as in the days of old, but nevertheless, a tradition that has continued because it’s the only way to get from city to city when men are broke.

‘Where there are trains, there will always be rail hoppers,’ said Willy. ‘We’re not hurting anyone. We just need a lift to get to the next town and unfortunately, we’re penniless.’

            The train pulled into the station. Jimmy and Willy hid in the hay as they heard the whistle blow and the boxcar door wiggle.

            The locomotive picked up steam and was heading out of the depot when they heard a knock as the door flew open. A stranger dressed in black looked around and spoke in a low voice. ‘Can I join you?’

            Jimmy looked at Willy. ‘I guess so,’ said Jimmy. ‘Have a seat.’

            The man came in with a small black bag on one hand. In his other hand, he had a sawed-off shotgun.

The two men stared in disbelief.  ‘Look Mr., we didn’t do nothing wrong except take a ride in this car. We’ll get off. Please, we don’t want no trouble,’ said Willy.

The man in black didn’t say a word before he shot both men dead. Then, he opened the railcar and jumped out leaving the bodies behind.

##

            When the train pulled into the last station and a check was made of all the cars, Jimmy and Willy’s bodies were discovered. Two hundred miles had been covered. There wasn’t a clue where they were killed. This was the sixth and seventh rail murders in the past two weeks. Hobos or rail hoppers, as they were called, were being murdered not just in Los Angeles but wherever there were freight trains in California. It might be seven locally but when other agencies pulled their data in the last two months, it was 43. This person is out to rid the population of hobos and no one knew why.

##

            Joe Miller and Bill Kelby of the Major Case Squad were contacted. They visited the crime scene.

            ‘Jesus Christ, a sawed-off shot gun at close range. Not much left of him,’ said Miller.

            ‘We have a guy for whatever reason playing vigilante of the railroads. We need to talk to Dr. Delmonico,’ replied Kelby.

##

            ‘Joe, Bill, what can I do for you?’

            ‘We have a serial killer on our hands. It looks like he enters the boxcar after the train leaves the station. He shoots the victim with a sawed-off shotgun. He’s out to rid the railroads of all the vagrants. I realize they’re illegal rail riders but this is ridiculous. What do you make of it?’

            ‘Hard to say by the little you’ve told me but let me give you my take of whom you’re dealing with. I think you’re dealing with someone who probably had a father who left his family while he was young maybe five or six. The father was over his head in responsibilities: a wife, a kid or two, probably a mortgage so he took off to a simpler life of riding the rails which meant he abandoned the family. The boy had to grow up fast, be the man, maybe leave school to go to work and bring home money to help support the family. But he vowed revenge. He decided when he grew up and was able to leave home, he was going to ride the rails and kill his father, but so far he hasn’t found him. Because his anger is white hot, he goes into a blind range and takes his hostility out on every transient he sees. Each one reminds him of his father so he kills over and over never getting the release he needs.’

            ‘You mean he’s going to continue to kill until we find him and stop him? Do you realize how many rail lines and rail track we are talking about?’ said Miller.

            ‘Have all the killings occurred in one state?’

            ‘Yes,’ said Kelby.

            ‘Well, that’s a start. Have they occurred on one rail line?’

            ‘No, two big ones. Union Pacific and BSNF,’ said Miller.

            ‘I don’t envy you. You have hundreds of miles to cover. If I would you I’d go back to the first killing. Mark the location. See which train it is associated with and then check what stops they make because usually vagrants get on moving cars near stops. However, if this is a kid, and hasn’t adapted to the life style, he might be getting on at the established stops hiding near the train until it is ready to pull out. I’d start there.’

            ‘Thanks, Dr. Delmonico.’

##

            ‘Jesus, Bill, do you have any idea the amount of work we’re looking at?’

            ‘Let’s go back to the office and lay it all out on the whiteboard,’ said Miller.

##

            Damn, two more are dead and I’m no closer to killing that bastard father who split years ago. He can’t be dead. I won’t let myself believe he’s dead. He needs to pay for what he did to me and my family.

This picture I have of him is old and faded. He’s been gone 15 years but I’d recognize that son of a bitch anywhere. Mom worked herself to death and I had to drop out of school and take care of my baby sister. And what happens, she gets hooked on meth and knocked up at the same time. I had no life. NO LIFE because that gluttonous pig who abandoned us. Well, he’s gonna get his…I’m gonna make sure he pays.

##

‘Bill, this is like working a puzzle with most of the pieces gone…Shit. We need one lead, just one, where someone suspicious is seen getting on a train.’

‘You know how many people hop trains every day.’

‘I mean one and then another so at least two get on together. The last murders were two guys together and a third joined so the third was the murderer.’

‘The problem is we’ve dusted for prints and mostly came up with the dead guys. There were a partial set of prints that were unknown so we have to hope he gets picked up for something else and they can match his prints. Then we can get him on a totally unrelated charge,’ replied Kelby.

‘I wouldn’t get my hopes up,’ said Miller in a sorrowful voice.

##

            I’m almost out of money. It’s time to rob a liquor store or market and get some cash and food.

            Danny jumped off the train as it was pulling into the station. No one saw him as he was in the next to the last car. He preferred those cars. That’s where most of the vagrants hung out. Bums like his father was…is. He hung onto the dream of finding him someday and finishing him off…blowing him away, just like he did to all the rest.

##

            ‘Alright, everybody just stay nice and still. No one move and no one will get hurt! I just want the money in the register. Put it in the bag along with some sandwiches, chips, and soda. No one has to be a hero…You over there, no movement. No touching anything…’

Too late. The store clerk triggered the silent alarm and for that, he had to die. BANG…went one barrel of the shotgun. ‘I’ve gotta get out of here. Give me the bag,’ screamed Danny.

            Danny took the bag and ran out the front door. Sirens were blaring in the background. He ran toward the boxcar. The train was getting ready to pull out when he got in. He wasn’t alone.

            ‘Hi. I’m Leroy. This is my friend Bobby.’

            ‘Leave me alone,’ replied Danny.

            ‘You’re not very socialable,’ said Leroy.

 ‘I just want to be left alone to eat, and then I’ll leave.’

There were two. Danny only had one barrel of his shotgun loaded. He had to wait until they went to sleep and then he would kill them both.

            ‘Do you have any extra sandwiches?’ asked Bobby.

            ‘NO! I haven’t eaten in two days. These are mine,’ said Danny.

            ‘Sorry, we thought you’d share,’ said Leroy.

            ‘Nobody ever shared with me. Get your own.’

##

            The train started moving and the two bums sat on the other side of the boxcar while Danny ate. They eyed him hoping to take away his food.

            ‘Look, either one of you tries to take my food, I’ll kill you, you see. I have a sawed off shotgun under my coat and I will use it on you.’

            Leroy started to make his way over to see and Danny pulled the gun out from under his coat.

            ‘Look Mister, we don’t want any trouble,’ replied Leroy.

            ‘Then stay on your side, got it!’

            Danny finished eating, then loaded the other barrel. Now, there’s one for each of you. Don’t cross me or both of you will get it.

            ‘I knew we should have jumped him, said Bobby.’

            ‘Well, you aren’t going to get a chance,’ and with that Danny blew a hole in both of them, first Leroy and then Bobby. The sound of the train’s engine covered the noise of the blast.

##

            Kelby and Miller arrived at the grocery store and forensics matched the partial fingerprints from the train. ‘Our killer got off the train to eat, so where is the nearest train? asked Miller. Getting impatient, Miller shouted, ‘Does someone know where the nearest train tracks are, which train it is, and where is it going?’

            The information came back and Miller ordered a helicopter, and roadblocks. ‘Handle with extreme caution. He is probably riding toward the rear of the train, in a boxcar. Stop the train and surround it.’

            The train started slowing down. Danny planned to get off but when he opened the door he saw cops everywhere.

            ‘You aren’t taking me alive. You hear that.’

            ‘There’s nowhere for you to run,’ said Miller.

            ‘Then I’ll take as many of you with me as I can.’

##

            A boxcar door opened next to Danny’s car. A drunkard derelict yelled out. ‘Hey, what’s going on here? Can’t a man get some sleep?’

            ‘Get back in and close the door,’ screamed Kelby.

            ‘No, what’s all the fuss about? You’re holding up the train. We’ve got a schedule to keep.’ The drunk laughed loud and hard a peculiar laugh.

            That voice…there’s something familiar in that voice. Danny thought over and over. Oh, it can’t be. My deadbeat Dad is in the car next to me. Shit…so close and yet so far.

            ‘Close the door, and go lay down,’ shouted Miller.

            ‘Yeah,’ screamed Danny. ‘Go back inside.’

            ‘You coming out,’ shouted Kelby.

            ‘Yeah, in a minute.’

            ‘Throw down your weapon,’ yelled Miller.

            Danny blew a hole in the side of wooden boxcar closest to the next car. He squeezed though the hole and then blew another hole in the car that contained his father. The cops started firing back. Danny took a handgun out of the black bag and returned fire. He was shot in the shoulder but made it into the car and confronted his father.

            ‘He’s in the boxcar next door,’ said Kelby.

            Danny through away the pistol and quickly reloaded the shotgun.

            ‘You old bastard, you ruined my life.’

            ‘Who are you?’ the old bum replied.

            ‘You don’t even recognize your son?’

            ‘Son? I don’t have a son or a wife for that matter.’

            ‘Yeah, fifteen years ago you abandoned your family.’

            ‘I don’t know who you think I am.’

            ‘You’re my father. You don’t even recognize your son?’

            Meanwhile Miller and Kelby with SWAT moved into position with guns drawn. ‘This is your last warning. Throw down your gun. You’re surrounded.’

            Danny put the shotgun barrel under his father’s neck and was about the pull the trigger when the door opened.

            ‘Drop it, now,’ said Miller.

‘Are you going to win again you old bastard?’

            Joe Miller put his gun against Danny’s head. ‘Drop it or so help me I will kill you.’           

Danny dropped his gun. Bill Kelby cuffed him and took him into custody.

            ‘You’re a lucky man,’ said Joe Miller to the bum.

            ‘I guess I am. What a pity he turned out so bad.’

            ‘Is he or isn’t he your son?

‘I left home fifteen years ago. I had a son named Danny so it could be him. I….I just don’t know.’

They left the vagrant in the boxcar.

After they put Danny in the police car, Joe turned to Bill and said, ‘The old man doesn’t even know if that’s his kid. How sad is that?’

Bill responded, ‘Why do you think he thought he was his father?’

‘Dr. Delmonico would know for sure but I think he wanted it so bad so he believed that old beggar was his dad because his killing spree was coming to end. He needed to kill his father to come full circle.’

‘All those men who died. What a waste and the old man wasn’t sure if that was his son.’

About the author

Since becoming disabled in 2015, Maxine took up her passion for writing. She has been published several times in the Los Angeles Daily News, Epoch Times, Nail Polish Stories, DarkWinterLit, BrightFlashLiteraryReview, OtherwiseEngagedLit, CafeLit, Maudlin House, TheMetaworker.com, TheHeartLandReview. 

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