Easy to Kill: Carla Larsen Mystery

By charles fisher

Carla et al continue their battle against government corruption, and an  international terror family. They arrest the Speaker of the House and deal her some justice, Carla style. Clodagh McGuire continues as a Detective Third Grade and deals a death blow to the Kamatos empire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: charles fisher
• Release date: Jan 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393629719

Book preview

Table of Contents

Easy To Kill | Blood Red | Fight Like A Girl, Part Two

The End | Carla and the gang will return in Hard Case, Fight Like a Girl Part Three.

Easy To Kill

Blood Red

Fight Like A Girl, Part Two

Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

March, 2008

––––––––

Rotten, no good evil bitch, Clodagh grumbled as Carla grinned at her.

What did she do now? Carole sighed. As if I had to ask.

Oh, just her usual back stabbing, lying tactics, Clodagh said as she stuck an inhaler in her mouth.

Put the puffer away and tell me, Carole said.

I put bear shit on her pillow in Mooo-tana, Clodagh said.

Shit on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you; if we could start anew, I wouldn't hesitate; I'd gladly take you back, your head I'd decapitate..... Harper sang. Spittle Anthony and the Imperialists; right, Old Person? she grinned at Carole.

Little Anthony, not spittle, Carole sighed. And it’s the Imperials. Must you insult every legend of rock and roll?

Yes, I must. I figure since he’s old, he probably drools on himself. He was born in 1941; that makes him ... let’s see .... almost as old as you. Can I have some pizza? Harper grinned.

If you can pay for it you can, Carole smiled.

Clodagh grabbed one of Carole’s six pizzas and handed it to Harper.

Thank you, Harper said. She must think I’m rich, asking me to pay for food. I only have forty dollars.

Where be my pizza? Carla said.

Still in the box, Tubbo the Wonder Whale, Clodagh said. You’re on a diet; remember?

Oh, that, Carla said. That be the Pizza Diet, started by that Eye-talian feller Rocco Ages. She reached over quickly and commandeered one of Carole’s pies.

So, Chloe, what did she do to you? Carole smiled.

It’s Cloooooo-dah. Got it? Bastard said we were forgiven, but she went back on her word. There’s a fucking surprise, huh, Crisco Ass? she said, eyeing Carla, who started making a pizza UFO.

One for you, Carla said, holding up the finger. She then turned her hand parallel to the floor. And one for your horse.

My horse has blonde hair and calls herself Chief, Clodagh said. Anyway, last night Lard Bag says she’s hungry, like that’s anything new, and suckers me into going to the diner with her. On the way, she drank four bottles of sauerkraut juice and ate a whole jar of jalapeno peppers. So we go to Duchess, where she proceeded to have one of everything on the menu.

Did not, Carla snapped. I do not like stuffed clams. I will not eat anything that smells like Harper.

Then she sits there drinking beer with the sweat pouring off her, burping like the mannerless pig she is.

I got manners, Carla grinned. They ain’t worth a shit, but I got ‘em. What you got, Shrimpy?

Some weird respiratory condition even Doc Wells can’t diagnose, Clodagh said. And a skin condition that looks like radiation burns. Oh, and my pee is purple. So, as I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted by Piggly Wiggly, she drags dinner out as long as possible while her stomach rumbled like Mt. St. Helens. Then we get back into that awful old piece of shit Fairlane, and off she goes. Half way home, she pulls over and says ‘I got to shit.’ I told her to make it fast, thinking she was going to get out and do it in the woods like the uncouth slob she is, but no; she drops trou and sprays me.

Y’all asked for it, disrespectin’ me with bear shit like you done. I told you payback was comin’.

This is all very entertaining, but we have work to do, Carole said as she stuffed an entire calzone into her mouth. Well, you assholes do, anyway, she mumbled. Go kill somebody. Just don’t get caught.

Does it count if I shoot Carla? Clodagh smiled.

Yes, Carole said. You kill her and I will award you the Medal of Valor.

Vito stuck his head in the door. That abeets I smell? he grinned.

Yes, it is abeets, Carole said. And yes, you smell. Isn’t it time for your quarterly shower?

Not until April, Vito shrugged as he grabbed a pizza. Marie likes for me to smell good at Easter. Hey, it is what it is. I take a shower, and she throws me a shot. Devi fare la cosa giusta. Best three minutes of her week, he grinned. Ain’t no sense dragging it out; she’s too old to have more kids. Whaddayouse lookin’ at, Junior? Vito said, eyeing Clodagh as he sat down.

When I figure it out, I’ll write it on your shirt in tomato sauce. Between the anchovy stains and the dried cheese.

Hey, that’s good mozzarella, Vito said. It’s a sin to waste food. Youse wasn’t raised in hard times like me. My old man worked hard all his life to put food on the table.

And on your shirt, Clodagh said. What kind of work did he do? Bookie? Stickup artist?

Hey, my old man never did nothing like that, Vito said. He worked in a slaughterhouse in Queens, like Rocky Balboa.

There’s an honorable profession, Harper smiled. Shooting animals in the head and then cutting them up for food so pigs like Carla can eat them.

Hey, it is what it is. I seen you eating plenty of steaks. And he never shot nobody in the head. Not no cows anyway, Vito grinned.

I eat steak to honor the animal who died, Harper said, looking up. I wouldn’t want them to have died in vain.

They didn’t die in vain, Vito shrugged as pizza oil dribbled down his shirt. They died in Queens, like I said.

Why don’t you eat pussy to honor all the lesbians that died? Clodagh grinned at Harper. That shouldn’t be too hard for you, considering you have that manly look.

What? Harper shrieked. I’m not gay! There are lots of girls who have short hair. You think I want the Flicka Mane like Carla has, so some criminal will have something to hold onto?

Boy got to have something to hold onto, Carla muttered. You got no titties or ass.

She’s a carpet muncher, Clodagh nodded. I’d bet on it. There’s a bicycle in the garage at her house with no seat; just a dildo mounted on the post, and a picture of Martina Navratilova on the handlebars.

That’s not mine, Harper said, looking up. It was there when we bought the house. I may have ridden it once or twice, but I didn’t like it.

And she didn’t inhale, just like Bill Clinton, Carla grinned.

I hear he has a business here. Is that true? Clodagh said.

Yes it is, Codfish, Harper snapped. He runs  a porno shop.

Codfish? Clodagh smiled. Can’t forget the memory of some dyke’s stinky snapper perched over your face, can you, canyon yodeler?

I don’t believe this, Harper sighed. I never ate .... never mind. You’re too young to be discussing this subject, you know.

And you’re too old to have tuna breath and a sign over your bed that says take pity on me and nail me like cheap plywood, boys.

That’s an old ad from Home Depot! Harper shouted. That’s enough; I’m leaving. Somebody around here has to do some police work.

I want to go see Bill Clinton, Clodagh said.

Good; go see him. Whore face will take you. Harper stormed out of the office.

Whore face? Carla said, looking at Carole. You hear what that little bastard called you?

Bubba’s Adult Emporium

Barnum Avenue

Stratford, Connecticut

March, 2008

––––––––

Hey, Carla; how you doin’? Bill Clinton said. Who’s that gal you got with you? She don’t look eighteen.

What a shame that would be for you, Clodagh smiled. Bet you never shagged a teenybopper, huh?

This is Clodagh. She’s a cop on my squad, Carla said as she set the two Burger King bags on the counter. She ain’t here to buy porno.

Yeah, Clodagh grinned as she grabbed a Cheese Whopper. You can get all you want on the internet for free. Why pay for it?

Said that a time or two myself, Bill grinned. Should have gone to one  of them marry me sites my own self, where you can get a nice Filipina gal ‘stead of somethin’ like Hillary.

Is she really that bad? Clodagh said. That was before my time.

Ev’rything was before your time, Carla muttered.

Shut up, Our Lady of Fartima, Clodagh snapped.

Y’all wanna see? Bill grinned as he reached for the drawstring. Carla quickly averted her eyes. Bill pulled the drawstring, opening the black curtain that hid the portrait of Hillary and their alleged daughter.

Jesus! Clodagh yelled, and spit out her food. Thanks a fucking lot, Bubba. I may never eat again. Cover that up before I heave.

Sorry, Bill grinned. Some folks get took by surprise when they see Hillary for the first time.

What was that thing next to her? Pet baby aardvark?

Chelsea, Bill grinned. She looks better now.

Yeah, I bet. You can’t get out from under that much ugly without plastic surgery.

Tried that, Bill said. Doctor wouldn’t work on her. Said we should  have her put down.

My God, that’s a gruesome twosome. The kid married?

Yeah; married up with a Jewboy.

Just goes to prove, even the blind can get a girl. I hope she at least smells good.

She uses Chanel; and one of them Opera masks, Bill grinned. What y’all need today, Carla? I got the Clarence Thomas Edition Double Penetrator Batwanger on sale.

She already has one, Clodagh said. It’s in her desk at work.

That’s evidence in a sexual assault case, Carla grinned.

Yeah, and judging from the yelling and screaming coming from your office, we know what was being assaulted. The old meat pie.

Never mind that; I am a moral person. We need some ad-vice, Bubba. Political type.

Well, I was the leader of the free world, Bill mused. Still might be, if that Linda Tripp kept her big mouth shut. What’s the problem?

Democrat Party been took over by radical Communists. They got plans to steal the mid term election, and the presidential election two years from now.

I heard somethin’ to that effect. That Greek bastard George Comatose is behind it.

Kamatos, Clodagh sighed. We took out one of his underground cities in Montana, and a storage facility in Arizona. He ain’t real happy about it, either. He’s gonna be a lot less happy if I get my paws on him.

Boy has better security than G.W., Bill said. That is a tall tree to climb.

Is that anything like fucking a possum with a blindfold? Clodagh grinned.

That is illegal except for in Arkansas, Bill grinned. And it depends on who got the blindfold, and how old the possum is.

Country folk, Clodagh sighed. You never know what they’ll say.

I would say you should forget about goin’ after him; he got a son who will take over for him anyway.

Too late, Clodagh said. Miss Clairol over here already broke into the news when she knew he’d be watching, bragged about taking out his underground cities, and threatened him.

Then he will go to ground, Bill said. We knew about him back in ’92; couldn’t find the boy. He got a private island someplace. Even the dang Navy couldn’t find it.

I’ll find it, Carla nodded. Navy don’t have access to Area 51.

And you do? Clodagh laughed. Who are you; Bob Lazar’s long lost sister?

We been goin’ there for a long time. Carole went to high school with the dude who runs the place.

Horse shit. I don’t believe you.

Be true, Bill nodded. Carole even took me in there.

Can you get me in there? I’d like to see some flying saucers.

I will make the call, Carla said. But you got to be sworn to secrecy under penalty of death.

Shit; I’d swear I’m not related to my own mother if it would get me in there.

Office of the Commanding Officer

General James Cagney

Groom Lake, Nevada, Area 51

March, 2008

––––––––

My God, not Carole again, Cagney said when the Captain announced the presence of Carole, Carla, and Clodagh.  I should retire.  The trio came in and flopped down on Cagney’s sofa.

That’s Clodagh, Carole said. She’s new. She’s one of my Detectives.

Waived the age requirement again, huh? Cagney grinned. Nice to meet you, Chloe.

That’s Cloooooo-dah. Got it? Hey, did anybody ever tell you that you look just like Gary Busey?

Only six times a day for the last thirty years, Cagney said. Did anybody ever tell you that you look like Raggdey Ann or that chick on the Wendy’s sign?

Ha, ha, old timer, Clodagh smiled. Where are the alien space craft? I want to see one.

That’s just rumor; conspiracy stuff. There are no flying saucers here.

Shit he got can’t fly, Carla muttered. All shot to shit by them funny weapons y’all got.

Be quiet, Cagney said. You know what I told you about that.

She talks in her sleep, Clodagh grinned. I stayed over with them, and she ran her mouth all night after she drank a quart of brandy.

Oh, really? Cagney said, sitting back in his chair. The NSA Oath doesn’t specify whether the offender has to be awake or not. What did she tell you?

I can’t say, Clodagh said. I took the oath, too. If I blab, you could have me shot.

Look, Space Cadet, I run the facility. It is not a violation to talk to me. Now tell me what you know, and I promise I will kill you quick.

Nice try, Mr. Joshua. I couldn’t really understand her. She was mumbling. Something about Hooker Night.

Figures, Cagney said as he slid his breakfast tray out of sight.

What’s that you have there, Jim? Carole smiled.

Nothing you’d be interested in, Cagney said.

Smells like pancakes, Carole grinned. I like pancakes.

It shows, Cagney grinned. Do you need an overweight permit for your ass when you use the interstate?

Very funny. Why don’t you eat your breakfast? Guess what I had for breakfast.

A lot more than you should have, Cagney said.

A pound of sheep’s eyes boiled in pus, and a baked dead rat covered in fresh maggots. Yummy.

Nooooo! Clodagh screeched, and dove for Cagney’s waste basket. She began dry heaving, then expelled a huge quantity of vomit.

I think we done found Clo-dog’s weak spot, Carla grinned as Clodagh wiped her mouth and sat down.

What about this mess? Carole said, peering into the waste basket. It looks like Sally Rutherford’s still born baby.

Blaaaaah! Clodagh gurgled, and went for round two. Stop, she gasped. I’m begging you.

Can’t have much left to puke up after that one, Carla said as she took out a bottle of Chinese hot sauce and a spoon. Pass that basket, Jimmo. I will clean that up for y’all.

Cagney turned green and bolted for his bathroom. Carole dove for the breakfast tray.

Cagney came back and called for somebody to take the waste basket away.

That was a new low, even for you, he sighed. Why are you here?

George Kamatos got him an island someplace, and he is prob’ly on it right now, hidin’ from me, Carla said.

A man hiding from you, Porky? Gee, I bet that never happened before, Cagney said as Carole ate his pancakes. You being such a charming person. How much do you weigh now, anyway? I’ve seen manatees that were smaller than you.

I may have gained five pounds since the last time I were here, Carla shrugged.

Five? Carole snorted. More like five hundred.

Shit on you, Carla snapped. Bastard got a big fuckin’ mouth for somebody who eats five thousand dollars’ worth of Eye-talian food ev’ry month.

Four, Carole snapped. Get your facts straight. And get your ass buttered, so you can fit back through Jimmy’s door.

How did you get here? Cagney said. Even a C130 cargo plane can’t haul that much weight.

Fuck you, flying saucer boy, Carla said. How would you like me to testicle in court about what goes on in here?

That would not be a wise thing to do, considering you took the oath here and I trust you.

Well, y’all invoked the Lard Butt Clause which I do not appreciate. I am not fat; I am just a tad corpulent.

Corpulent? Carole grinned. You are a giant suet hog. You are a flabby, meaty, dumpy, bloated, elephantine, roly-poly pinguid beast of burden.

Pinguid? What in the hell is pinguid? Carla exclaimed.

You, Chunky Brewster.

I have never been so insulted in my life, Carla huffed. What’s fer lunch, Jimmy? she grinned.

My budget for food won’t handle having you stay for lunch, Cagney said. That aside, what is it you are going to ask me to do that will get my ass court-martialed or executed?

Nothin’ that important, Carla shrugged. Two things. I need one of your I ain’t never been laid because I am a fuckin’ nerd scientist dudes to help me find that island Ka ... Kamin .... whoever the fuck he is lives on. I ain’t that good with names.

Well, Golleeeeee! Clodagh grinned, slapping her leg. Daisy Mae cannot remember who she wants to kill, you all. How about we draw straws? Winner gets to lick a donkey’s ass."

Still got that firin’ squad handy, Jimmy? Carla grinned.

Yes, Cagney grinned, looking at Clodagh. Kids make good targets.

You are a total asshole, you know that? Clodagh said. Are you going to help us, or do we have to kill you and take this dump over all by our lonesome? I’ll rip one of your lungs out with a martial arts move, Carole will eat all the food you have in the cafeteria, and Butter Hog Carla will lean against the door so nobody can get in here.

Butter Hog? Did you call me Butter Hog, you little son of  a bitch?

You should be used to it by now, Chubadub, Clodagh said. So what say you, General? Are you going to honor your oath and help us fuck this Greek asshole in  .... wait a minute, Greeks usually want to fuck YOUR asshole. I’m confused, me being a little kid who never did that.

Go see Bruno, Cagney sighed. He knows about this stuff. Just promise me you’ll never come back here again.

Might not have to if these bastards pull off this plan, Carla nodded. You been livin’ here too long and have lost touch with two things; reality, and the regular folks. You stay here and hide in your little hole and see what happens to you.

I’m worried, Cagney grinned. You said you wanted two things. What was the second one?

A nuclear weapon, Carla said. Bye. We will talk later.

A what? Cagney shrieked. You want a nuclear weapon? Are you insane?

Some people think so, Carla shrugged. There got to be a form to fill out where you kin get one of them, ain’t there? Carole got a nuke one time from Bill Clinton.

No, Cagney said. No way. You will never get a nuclear weapon from me or anybody else.

Y’all got 1300 of ‘em downstairs the government stored here when they hornswaggled the Russkies into believin’ we done that arms reduction shit. Shannon Flynn told me about that. Tell me I am wrong. Don’t lie to me, boy.

Go, Cagney said. That is even beyond my security clearance, and I run the place. Now go see if Bruno can help you.

Laboratory 315, Level Seven

Dr. Bruno Reininger

Groom Lake, Nevada, Area 51