Sleepless Nights

by Pierre C. Arseneault

  “Good talking to ya, Lincoln,” says Clovis.

  Lincoln hoisted up his thermos in a toast-like gesture and smiled as he watched the squad car pull away. “Cheers!” he said and drank the rest of its contents.

  13

  Libby felt her belt vibrate just as she reached for the handle of the steel-framed glass door of Santorene. She pulled the phone from its holster as she made her way inside the coffee shop. The line-up only consisted of two Carlton residents, Jack Ledger and Ernie Woodman. Ernie had the latest copy of the Carlton Gazette folded and tucked under his arm. A large picture on the front page showed a scruffy looking Crandall with the headline she had seen earlier that day.

  Lester Crandall, a.k.a. Crazy Crandall on the loose.

  A glance at her phone made her freeze in mid-step. The caller I.D. showed Chief Clovis.

  Why would Clovis call her on her Blackberry? She couldn’t help but wonder as she picked up the call.

  “You want a coffee don’t you?” she asked as she tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Sure,” replied Clovis. “Did you make it back to the station yet?”

  “Not yet. Why?” Libby knew that Clovis wasn’t going to get to the point right away. He would try and get her to put her guard down. Catch her in a lie. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was just being paranoid.

  “I just wanted to know if I had time to swing by the school and see Raylene.” Clovis was referring to Carlton Elementary where his wife was a teacher. “That and I wanted to know if there were any updates on Crandall.”

  “I should be there soon. I’ll call you right away if there is.”

  There was a pause and Clovis spoke. “Oh, and I saw your buddy just now. He’s already half drunk and it’s not even noon.”

  “Really?” replied Libby. He knows I lied thought Libby. “Did he even remember me driving him home?” This question she asked to see if they had discussed that very fact.

  Jack Ledger turned to listen in to Libby’s half of the conversation as he waited for his coffee.

  “Yup,” said Clovis.

  “What’d he say?”

  Clovis replied. “He went on a rant about atheists.”

  “Poor Thinking’s gonna drink himself to death,” said Libby as she watched Jack roll his eyes at what she had just said.

  “Lincoln was a straight A student up until the seventh grade,” said Clovis. “I know because we went to school together.”

  “What happened?” asked Libby.

  “Well, let’s just say that being smart was not cool back then and getting wasted was,” replied Clovis.

  “Well he never really struck me as being dumb. Just a man who made bad choices,” replied Libby.

  “That’s exactly it,” replied Clovis.

  14

  Jack, with coffee in hand walked outside and took an old fashioned flip phone out of his pocket. A quick search in the call history found the number he wants and dials. Standing before the glass door as he watched Libby put her phone away and step up to place her order.

  “Raylene?” said an uncertain Jack in an inquisitive tone. “It’s Jack Ledger. Listen. I think Clovis is getting suspicious.”

  “What makes you say that?” asks Raylene.

  “I overhear Libby talking to him just now.”

  “I’m gonna call Libby right away and see what’s going on,” replied Raylene. “Thanks, Jack.”

  Jack closed his flip phone and put it in his pocket. He cracked open the plastic lid on his coffee and turned just in time to see Libby pulling out her blackberry and placing it to her ear.

  15

  Putting her Blackberry to her ear as she handed her money to the young girl at the counter, Libby spoke. “Dwayne? What are you doing up? You should be sleeping.”

  “I just keep tossing and turning. Can’t sleep,” replied Dwayne. “I just got off the phone with Nowlan and he says they’ve gotten more calls from the Carlton area.”

  Coffee tray in one hand and walking out the door, Libby replied. “Really? Did you call Clovis yet?”

  “Nope!” said Dwayne. “I’m at the station.”

  Libby stopped in her tracks. “You want me to get you a coffee too, I suppose.”

  “No thanks. I’ve already got one,” replied Dwayne.

  Libby’s Blackberry made a bleeping sound alerting her of incoming call. “I got another call, Dwayne. I’ll talk to you when I get to the station.”

  With that she took the second call and spoke. “Hey, Raylene. Thanks for calling.”

  “I got your text but that’s not why I’m calling,” replied Raylene. “I called because Jack just called me. He says he thinks Clovis is suspicious.”

  “Well, I doubt he will have much time to think about it,” said Libby without wanting to give anything away. “We got lots to do.”

  “Good. But I still have one problem,” said Raylene. “I have no idea how I’m gonna get him to the Lodge Saturday night. Not without giving it away.”

  “Don’t worry,” replied Libby. “Dwayne said he has a plan.”

  Raylene replied without the slightest pause. “That’s a scary thought.”

  Both women laughed.

  “Ok, Clovis is here to see me. I gotta go before I need to get back to class. Thanks again for everything, Libby.”

  “My pleasure. Bye now,” replied Libby as she climbed into her cruiser and set the tray of coffee on the passenger seat on top of a copy of the Carlton Gazette.

  16

  Early Friday afternoon, three of Carlton’s Police Officers and their Chief were pouring over the list of leads sent by Officer Nowlan, their liaison at the Stonevalley Police Department. All were huddled around Dwayne’s desk as they discussed a plan to split up the tips called into the hotline.

  Clovis spoke. “You guys do realize that there are a few citizens of Carlton that look like Crazy Crandall. They could easily have mistaken that autistic boy’s father for Crandall.”

  “You mean Devin’s dad?” asked Libby.

  “Linus Butler,” said Robert.

  Dwayne shot Clovis a glance as he looked up from his notes. “Everybody in town knows Linus.”

  Clovis replied. “Yes, true. But he looks a hell of a lot like Crandall though.” Clovis smirked as he added. “From a distance they could easily think he was our escaped psycho.”

  Dwayne added, “Well Stonevalley P.D. wants us to check out these leads even if they’re pretty sure they’re bogus.”

  “Who’s the Chief here anyway?” asked Libby.

  Chief Clovis laughed. “That’s ok, Libby. I’m more than happy letting Dwayne take a lead role in all this.” Clovis got up and walked past Dwayne, patting him on the back. “He’s a natural for this stuff. Besides, my birthday’s coming up and I know Raylene’s got something cooking.”

  A look of shock froze on Libby’s face as she saw Clovis disappear into his office. She gave Dwayne a dirty look and mouthed words without speaking. “What the fuck?”

  Dwayne, with a confused look on his face simply shrugged.

  From the Chief’s office Clovis said, “You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now would you?”

  In an attempt to change the subject, Dwayne spoke up reverting to the task at hand. “Ok. I split the list into four. We’ve got eleven tips with names and four more anonymous ones.”

  “Anonymous?” asked Robert.

  Dwayne looked at his list. “Two were traced back to disposable phones, one to the old pay phone outside of Burnett’s Place and the third was traced to Father Finnigan’s iPhone.”

  “Put Father Finnigan on my list,” said Clovis as he came out of his office with a copy of the Carlton Gazette. “I need to talk to him anyway.”

  “Already done,” said Dwayne as he handed Clovis a paper with four names on it.

&
nbsp; “Ok then, let’s get to work,” said Chief Clovis.

  “Yes sir,” said an enthusiastic Libby. Each Officer now had been given a list of names as they left the police station.

  17

  Libby sat in her cruiser watching as the three other officers drove off. Pulling out her Blackberry, she called Raylene.

  “Your timing is perfect. I just got out of class,” said Raylene as she picked up the call. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Clovis. He knows something’s up.”

  “I figured he would catch on eventually,” replied Raylene.

  “What do we do now?” asked a panicked Libby.

  “I’ll figure out something,” said Raylene. Libby could hear screaming kids and a school bell in the background. Then she heard a door slam and the background noises became muffled. “I’ll tell him I was planning on taking him to Cuba instead of Bar Harbour like we planned.”

  Libby paused as she looked at the list of names in her hand. “But Clovis hates the tropics.”

  “Oh I know that,” replied Raylene. “But that should throw him off the scent. He’ll think I needed help to plan his absence.”

  Libby laughed. “You’re pretty sneaky, Raylene.”

  Both women had a laugh before terminating the call. Libby, feeling a slight relief that Raylene had a plan, could now focus on the task at hand. The tips from the hotline were so random that they knew the bulk of them had to be bogus. But they would not be doing their job if they didn’t follow up on the leads. And one of them might turn out to be real thought Libby. What if?

  She heard the police radio crackle and then Clovis’s voice came on. “Dwayne?” the voice said.

  “What’s up, Chief? Over!” replied Dwayne.

  “You’re loving this aren’t you? Over,” replied Clovis.

  Libby grinned.

  There was a pause before the reply. “Let’s be professional here,” replied Dwayne. “There’s a killer out there. Over.”

  Nothing more came over the radio as Libby started her cruiser and headed for the outskirts of town for the first name on her list.

  18

  Clovis had already dismissed the first of the possible Crazy Crandall sightings on his list of four before heading to the church. Fully convinced that Crandall would never step foot in his sleepy little town, he had taken all the information from the first caller but most of it was inconsistent. Now he intended on checking off the second name which he wanted to do personally. He had more than one reason for asking Dwayne to put Father Finnigan’s name on his list. His visit wouldn’t simply be about Crandall.

  In the entrance of the church, other than the doors to go in and out were two thick ornate wooden doors on each side. The one on the right was a public washroom. The one to the left was the main entrance of the basement. As soon as he walked into the doorway he noticed the lights were already lit. Clovis knew he was right about the location of the good Father. The church basement had a unique odour which you could smell as soon as you stepped foot into the stairwell. Too many church potlucks had been held here and that smell was trapped in the wood, which was blended with the scent of varnish. Clovis knew he would be right where he always was on a Friday afternoon. He would be in the basement, setting up for Friday night bingo. The proceeds going to heat the church in the winter and anything above the cost of the heating oil would be put aside to do good within the community.

  “Why don’t you get Lincoln to help you?” asked Clovis as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “I usually do,” replied the Father as he turned to face this familiar voice which spoke to him. “But the leaves are beginning to fall now and Lincoln will be busy with that for a while.”

  “True,” replied Clovis as he set down his newspaper and grabbed the other end of a table the Father was about to pick up, helping him set it in place.

  As both men made their way to fetch another table, Father Finnigan asked. “You’re here about the call I made aren’t you?”

  “Why didn’t you leave your name?” asked Clovis as both men grabbed the opposite ends of a table and carried it towards the middle of the room.

  “I intended to but forgot. I guess I got nervous.”

  “You said you saw him in church?” asked Clovis. “When?”

  “I was in the church and saw a lone man kneeling in a pew.” Both men walked over to fetch the last of the tables. “I didn’t think anything of it until I remembered the picture of the front page of the Carlton Gazette. That’s when I realized it was him.”

  Clovis, taking this as his cue, retrieved the copy of the Gazette, which he had brought with him. He already had it folded to the page he wanted and so he flashed it to Father Finnigan and asked. “Is this him? Is this the man you saw in the church this morning?”

  Father Finnigan looked at the small picture quickly before replying without hesitating. “Yes, that’s him alright.”

  Clovis unfolded the newspaper and this time he didn’t hide any of it with his strategically placed hands when he showed it to him for the second time. “Take another look, Father.”

  Father Finnigan’s facial expression said it all as he read the ad next to the picture for Butler Construction. (The newspaper ad read “The Butler did it.”)

  The good Father knew the picture he was looking at was Linus Butler and not Crazy Crandall after all. Could he have mistaken Linus for Crandall he thought? But he had been so certain of himself this morning.

  Clovis turned the paper and looked at the picture himself. “He’s been having trouble with his boys.”

  “How’d you know it might be Linus and not Crandall?” asked Father Finnigan.

  “He’s doing a job not far from here,” replied Clovis. He could see from the expression on the good Father’s face that he now had feelings of regret for having called the hotline.

  “Let me give you a hand with the chairs,” said Clovis as both men began placing chairs next to the tables. Both men were quiet as they set the rest of the chairs in place. Once done, Clovis asked. “How’s Lincoln doing, Father?”

  Father Finnigan paused as he gestured for them to head back upstairs. “He’s taken to drinking a lot more this last year. And I fear it’s gotten worse in the last few months.”

  “Does he talk to you much, Father? About religion or other things?” asked Clovis as they reached the top of the staircase.

  “We talk, yes.” Father Finnigan smiled. “But you know I can’t tell you what about. Lincoln puts his trust in me and I can’t betray that. Not even for the Chief of Police. Let me walk you out,” said the Father. As both men exited the church, Father Finnigan added. “What’s this I hear that you and Raylene are finally going to Cuba?”

  Clovis adjusted his baseball cap and did his best not to let the shock he was feeling show on his face as he spoke. “Raylene has been talking about it for years but she knows I’d rather see pine trees than palm trees.” Clovis smiled. “But I’m not so sure I’m supposed to know yet so don’t tell Raylene you asked me about it.”

  “Ah poo,” replied a flustered Father Finnigan. “I hope I didn’t spoil the surprise.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said a smiling Clovis as he climbed into his cruiser. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about with this killer on the loose. I need to go visit Linus before he gets in trouble for looking like an escaped killer.”

  Father Finnigan smiled and waved him goodbye as he watched him drive off. As Clovis pulled out of the church parking, he glanced into his rear-view mirror and could see Father Finnigan put his iPhone to his ear. Clovis smiled as he drove off.

  Father Finnigan watched Clovis drive away as he spoke. “Raylene? It’s Father Finnigan. You know I’m a terrible liar but I think it worked.”

  19

  Having just slept for most of the day after working the graveyard shift at Sleepy Meadows, Maur
een sat at her kitchen table still wearing her pyjamas. She sipped coffee as she caught up on her friends’ Facebook posts. Not long into her scrolling she noticed a post from about an hour earlier by her co-worker Jenna Wilkins. To her amazement a quick click revealed a pair of merged pictures of a clean cut Crazy Crandall right next to Linus Butler. The resemblance was uncanny and the large list of shares and comments confirmed just that. One of the comments said they saw this same picture on a newsbreak for the local news. The original post came from Linus’s wife herself. Geraldine had posted the pic to make people aware of the uncanny resemblance before her husband got hurt. Without hesitation, Maureen shared the picture on her Facebook wall just like half the town had already done. Her written comment was short.

  “I never realized it until now but they could be brothers if not twins.”

  20

  Not having had a single customer after half past seven, Ernie Woodman decided he would close the grocery store early that night. At half past eight he made the announcement that he would closed up in exchange for every one of the staff promising him that they would go straight home. They all did this without a fuss. Even the two young teenage girls who worked the cash registers on Friday nights didn’t argue and happily called their parents to come and get them. Ernie didn’t bother with any paperwork or floats at the end of the day. He stored everything away in the office safe, vowing to do them first thing in the morning. On his way home he noticed the streets of Carlton were already deserted except for a single police cruiser that drove past him slowly, a young nervous looking officer on loan from the Stonevalley P.D. at the wheel. Even the parking lot of Burnett’s Place was completely empty except for Floyd’s truck. It would be a quarter past nine when Ernie would get home and lock the door behind him. Something he rarely ever did in this sleepy little town. He would sit back and watch some television eventually settling on a news special about Crazy Crandall and the murderous rampage that had made him infamous.