“Good morning, Derek. Got a minute?”
“Sure, Walt. What’s up?”
“I was just wondering about the shooting at the New Theatre Restaurant. Any leads?”
He shook his head. “Not a thing. The actor that was shot was from out of town. He seemed to be well liked by everyone in the cast. The only possible suspect that might have a motive also has an alibi.”
“Who’s that?”
“Your friend, Archibald Sanders, but he was sitting with you when the shooting occurred.”
I was shocked. “What possible reason would Archie have to shoot the guy?”
“Money, one of the usual big four motives. He was the understudy, but with this guy out of the way, he became the lead. More money. Motive.”
It was hard to believe that my old classmate would wing a fellow thespian, but what did I really know about the theatre, or about him for that matter. I hadn’t seen him in fifty years.
“You said ‘one of the big four’. What are the others?”
“Money, power, revenge and lust. Any time there’s a crime, you can bet one of them is involved.”
“Thanks, Derek. Please let me know if you get any breaks in the case.”
“Will do.”
Ox had been listening to our conversation.
“If your friend didn’t do it for the money, there might just be another possibility.”
“What’s that?”
“The lust thing. After Martha Woodstock made her appearance at our table, Maggie and Judy made a trip to the powder room. Maggie might have mentioned how Martha dumped you for the actor dude in high school.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” I said indignantly. “Is nothing sacred?”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad. It happens to all of us at one time or another. Anyway, on the way home, Judy told me that Martha was staring at Archie throughout the whole meal. The two girls concluded that Martha was still carrying a torch for the guy. Then, of course, Maggie noticed that Martha was not at her table when the shooting happened. She was conveniently in the ladies room. And now, after hearing your conversation with your friend that she is stalking the guy --- well --- put two and two together --- the lust thing”
“Martha? The shooter? But why? That’s a real stretch and even if it’s true, how would you ever prove it?”
“Martha and Archie are both going to be at the reunion. Right?”
“Yes,”
“And you’re going to be doing your Elvis thing?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Then I have an idea.” He looked at his watch. “We’re going to be late for squad meeting. I’ll tell you later.”
We slipped into our seats next to Officer Dooley just as the Captain entered the room.
Dooley wrinkled his nose and gave us the once-over.
“What’s that smell? Dudes! Did you whack a porta-potty on the way to work?”
It seemed that Ferdinand the Bull was getting the last laugh after all.
Father O’Brian and Ernie had parked inconspicuously a block from the Corazon mansion on Sunset Drive.
“Last donut, Paddy. Shall we split it?”
“No, it’s all yours, Ernie. This surveillance stuff is pretty boring. Maybe we should bring a deck of cards next time. I know I can take you in gin rummy.”
Ernie was about to wolf down the last cruller when the big, iron gates swung open and the black SUV pulled into the street.
He handed the cruller to Father O’Brian and started the engine. “Showtime!”
As before, they followed the SUV through the Plaza and onto Southwest Trafficway.
“Must be heading to the City Market again,” Paddy said.
But instead of winding through downtown to Walnut Street and the City Market, they headed west on the Twelfth Street Viaduct.
“Nope,” Ernie said. “They’re going to the West Bottoms.”
The West Bottoms, laying in the flood plain between downtown Kansas City and the Missouri River was a hodge-podge of warehouses and industrial plants, criss-crossed by railroad tracks that serviced the loading docks.
The SUV exited onto Mulberry and headed north toward the river.
Ernie had done a good job of staying far enough back so they wouldn’t be noticed, but as they turned onto Mulberry, Ernie stepped on the gas.
“What are you doing? Paddy exclaimed, grabbing the armrest.
Ernie just pointed to a train that was approaching Mulberry.
The SUV had just cleared the tracks when the crossing arm dropped, cutting off the old Buick.
“Damn!” Ernie said. “Oh, sorry, Father.”
“No need! My sentiments exactly!”
It was a full five minutes before the train passed and the arm lifted. The SUV was nowhere in sight.
“Looks like we lost them,” Ernie said with disgust.
“Not so fast, Ernie. It’s just a few blocks to the river. They can’t have gone far. Let’s just drive around.”
They followed Mulberry all the way to the river, but saw nothing. On the way back, they turned west onto Eighth Street that led them to Hickory.
“Look!” Paddy said, pointing to a warehouse halfway down the block on Hickory. Isn’t that the SUV?”
“Sure is. Since the cops raided their other warehouse twice, they must have found a new location to do their dirty work. Probably nothing at the City Market but vegetables now.”
“So what should we do?” Paddy asked. “Call the cops?”
“And tell them what? Unless we know for sure that something is going on in there --- unless we have real proof, they’ll just raid the place, find nothing and Corazon will find a new location. No, we’ll just have to wait and watch until we know for sure.”
They pulled into a vacant lot and parked the old Buick behind a dumpster, determined to do whatever was necessary to avenge the death of their friend.
CHAPTER 14
After work on Thursday, I stopped by the supermarket and picked up a dozen pumpkins.
The idea of gutting and cutting all of those things by myself had seemed pretty daunting, so I had arranged a P-P-P Party, Pumpkins, Pizza and Peach Chardonney, Arbor Mist, of course.
I knew that the folks in my building would do most anything for a slice of pepperoni with double cheese, so recruiting able bodies for the carving committee was a breeze.
I had forgotten to include Mary in our fitness club caper and had gotten a royal butt-chewing for my negligence. I wasn’t about to let that happen again, so I stopped by the Three Trails to pick her up.
She was standing by the curb holding her purse in one hand and butcher knife in the other. Given her exploits with a bat and a pistol over the past years, the tenants had developed a healthy respect and rarely ever gave her a minute’s trouble. I figured that the specter of her standing there with a butcher knife did nothing to dispel that illusion.
“Hey, Mr. Walt,” she said, climbing into the car. “Brought my own tool.”
“I see that. Those pumpkins don’t stand a chance.”
Mary seemed more subdued than usual. “You know, I been thinking a lot about this reunion of yours. Fifty years --- that’s pretty special --- heck, just bein’ alive that long and gettin’ to see old friends. I never had no reunion ‘cause I never graduated from high school. After my daddy ran off, I had to quit and get a job to help support the family.”
I had known Mary for many years, but I really didn’t know much about her early life.
“Then momma passed on and my brother got himself killed in the war and my family just kinda disappeared. I got a sister out there somewhere, but I ain’t seen her in years. Wouldn’t know her if she walked onto the porch at the Three Trails.”
“Gee, Mary. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t, cause I never told you. I just wanted to thank you for invitin’ me tonight. You and Miss Maggie and Willie --- you’re all the family I got, so it’s really special to me.”
; On the way to the apartment, Mary’s comments forced me to do some soul searching. From the very beginning, I had been grousing about getting involved in my class reunion, and Mary would have given her eyeteeth to have had one to enjoy. I had been blessed with a wonderful wife and a dad that had come back into my life after many years. I was surrounded by friends that had put their lives on the line for me more times than I wanted to think about.
Sometimes, it just takes a moment, to see your life from someone else’s perspective to make you appreciate what you have.
We pulled up in front of the building at the same time as the pizza guy. I paid him, and Mary and I headed up the stairs, our arms loaded with pizza boxes.
The gang was all there, and I could almost hear them salivating as the warm, cheesy pizza smell permeated the room.
Dad and Bernice grabbed one box, Jerry and Willie grabbed a second one, and Mary teamed up with the Professor.
“Looks like it’s you and me, Babe,” I said as Maggie took the last box from my hands.
It was a delight watching this diverse group of seniors wiping grease off their mouths and washing the pizza down with huge glasses of Arbor Mist.
At one point, I wondered if I had made a mistake, filling them with alcohol just before they were to attack the pumpkins with sharp knives, but then somebody filled my own glass for a third time and I really didn’t care anymore.
When the last scrap of pizza had disappeared, I announced the inevitable. “Okay, time to get carving and earn that pizza. Every man to the car and grab a pumpkin.”
My announcement was met with a chorus of groans.
“You all go ahead,” Dad said, putting his arms around Bernice. “I’ve got my pumpkin right here.”
Bernice giggled and punched him in the arm.
With a great deal of groaning and grunting, the twelve pumpkins were finally on our kitchen table.
“Okay, how about this --- Maggie and Bernice can draw the lines on the pumpkins, Mary and the Professor can cut the tops open, Willie can scoop out the seeds ---.”
“Hold on jus’ a minute,” Willie interrupted. “How come I gotta stick my hand in dat nasty place and pull out the seeds?”
Jerry jumped right on that one. “Because we figured that you’ve had your hands in more nasty places than all the rest of us put together. You’re just a natural.”
Willie thought about it for a moment and must have assumed that it was a compliment. “You probably right ‘bout dat. I’ll do it!”
“Good! When the seeds are out, the rest of us can carve the faces.”
We each tackled our assignments with gusto.
Jerry was patiently waiting for his first pumpkin to carve. I could see the wheels turning in his head.
“You all want to hear a pumpkin joke?”
We all knew it didn’t matter what we said. We were going to hear it one way or the other.
“One day two pumpkins, who were best friends, were walking together down the street. They stepped off the curb and a speeding car came around the corner and ran one of them over. The uninjured pumpkin called 911 and helped his injured friend as best he was able. The injured pumpkin was taken to emergency at the hospital and rushed into surgery. After a long and agonizing wait, the doctor finally appeared. He told the uninjured pumpkin, ‘I have good news, and I have bad news. The good news is that your friend is going to pull through. The bad news is that he's going to be a vegetable for the rest of his life’.”
“Dat’s jus’ sick!” Willie exclaimed.
Our normally stoic Professor must have been feeling the after effects of the Arbor Mist. “And do you know what you get when you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?”
We all shook our heads.
“Pumpkin pi!” he said with a silly grin on his face.
When the carving was finished, I ushered our friends out the door and drove Mary home.
The next morning, in the light of day and out from under the spell of the Arbor Mist, I took a closer look at our carvings.
To say that they left something to be desired would have been an understatement. I hoped that Wanda Pringle wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want to lose my job.
The weekend filled with 50th reunion activities was fast approaching.
I dutifully packed our questionable jack-o-lanterns into the car to drop off to Wanda. I had been excused from the crepe paper hanging and balloon blowing since I had to spend time preparing for my appearance as Elvis.
Maggie insisted on accompanying me, mumbling something about not letting me out of her sight around THOSE women. I wasn’t sure whether she was worried about them or me.
I had just finished unloading the pumpkins in Wanda’s garage when she accosted us in the driveway.
“Exciting news! We have so many people coming from out of town that haven’t been in Polk High since they graduated, and they are interested in seeing the changes to our old alma mater, so we have arranged a tour for this Friday morning. I figured that you and Maggie would want to come.”
Wandering around the halls of a drafty old school building wasn’t exactly high on my list of things to do.
“Gee, I don’t know ---.”
“Of course we’ll be there,” Maggie gushed. “Wouldn’t miss it. What time?”
“Nine o’clock. We’ll meet at the front entrance.”
As she walked by our pumpkins, I saw her do a double take and shake her head. It was probably a good thing that I wouldn’t be hanging any crepe paper.
I couldn’t believe that I had been roped into another activity. “A school tour? Really?”
“Quit your fussing, Walt. You’re my husband and I love you. I missed out on your early years. This reunion is my way of getting to know you better. Putting all those old yearbook photos in the actual school context makes it more real for me. You should be happy that I want to know everything there is to know about the man I married.”
How could I argue with something like that?
At nine o’clock on Friday, about thirty former students and their spouses had gathered in the front hallway of Polk High.
With the exception of the women that had been on the planning committee, I didn’t recognize a soul.
A Miss Wells from the office staff had drawn the short straw and been assigned as our tour guide.
She began by pointing out the obvious --- there had been a lot of changes in the past fifty years, remodeling, additions and, of course, the new computer lab.
Our first stop was the cafeteria. In the old days, there were huge windows along one wall that opened up into a grassy courtyard. It was in that courtyard that we had planted the ill-fated Beta Tree. That courtyard was now the site of the computer sciences building.
When I mentioned all of that to Maggie, she pointed out that it was probably just as well that the Beta Tree didn’t survive. Had it lived to be a mighty oak, it would have still been chopped to make way for the new building.
Progress.
Our next stop was the gymnasium.
Not a lot of happy memories for me there. I remembered getting whacked playing dodge ball, running laps and trying unsuccessfully to climb the stupid rope with everyone watching.
All these things were running through my mind when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Walt? Walt Williams?”
A mountain of a guy, 6’2” and weighing a good two-eighty was towering over me.
“It’s Eddie. Eddie Delaney.”
“Oh, yes! Eddie Delaney, the jock, and one of the coach’s pets.”
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Remember that time I gave you a wedgie and you were pulling your pants out of your crack when the Pep Club girls walked in?”
I remembered all right.
“Yeah, good times.”
Maggie tried to keep a straight face, but it just wasn’t working.
Thankfully, Miss Wells announced that it was time to move on and I was spared having to recall any more of the many embar
rassing moments we nerds had suffered at the hands of the beefy goon squad.
We were in the hallway, on the way to the library when an alarm sounded and a voice blasted over the intercom system.
“CODE PURPLE! CODE PURPLE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
The few students and teachers that had been in the hall immediately rushed into the closest room. Doors slammed shut, locks clicked and shades were drawn.
I saw the look of alarm on Miss Well’s face.
“What’s a code purple?” I asked as she frantically looked around for a place into which she could herd her elderly charges.
“Gun! There’s a gun somewhere in the building. This is a complete lockdown. No one goes in or out of the building.”
She decided on the hallway lavatories and was issuing orders for us to go into either the girl’s or boy’s bathroom, when the principal came racing down the hall.
“Good thinking, Miss Wells. Keep these people in there until we’ve been given the all clear.”
I grabbed the principal by the arm and showed him my badge.
“My name is Walt Williams and I’m a police officer. What’s happening?”
“We have a student with a handgun. He has barricaded himself in room 102. He has hostages. We’ve called 911 and the police are on their way.”
“Take me to room 102. I can assess the situation and report to the responding officers.”
The principal led the way, and thankfully, the door shade had not been pulled. I quietly peered into the room and what I saw sent cold chills through my body.
A boy had another boy on his knees and was pressing a pistol against the back of his head. Their backs were to the door and I couldn’t see their faces.
Immediately, images of the mass murders at Columbine High School in Colorado and Sandy Hook School in Newton, Connecticut flooded my mind.
I backed away from the door, pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911.
“What is your emergency?”
“This is Officer Walter Williams, Badge 714. I’m inside the Polk High School and I have eyes on the gunman. Patch me through to the responding officers.”
[Lady Justice 12] - Lady Justice and the Class Reunion Page 12