Geezer Paradise

by Robert Gannon

  "But I was just borrowing him," Willey protested.

  "I ain't takin' that druken' little skunk back," Opal yelled. "Now git outt'a here less'n you want yer hide full'a birdshot." Willey kept coming. Opal lifted the shotgun and fired a round over Willey's head, which pretty much settled the argument. Oscar beat Willey back to the Wrangler and jumped into the back seat.

  Willey jumped in and said, "Let's get outt'a here." We beat a hasty retreat down the dirt road, which was hard on my little Wrangler's suspension.

  "Great," I said. "Now we're stuck with a monkey."

  Chapter Six

  WE WERE PACKING our things before we moved to McKnight's place, when Willey's front doorbell rang. Willey opened the door cautiously. There was a young Latino kid standing there. He was dressed like a Yuppie, a mint green Izod pull-over, tan chinos, and boat shoes.

  "Hi, Willey," he said. "May I come?"

  Willey was confused. "Eduardo, is that you? I didn't recognize you. Come in, come in." Eduardo came into the kitchen.

  "You're just not used to seeing me in my civilian clothes," Eduardo said. "You see, I'm working undercover at Jack's and the dumber I look, the better."

  There wasn't a single gold chain or any other bling in sight. The ponytail was still there, but it wasn't oily. The earrings and pencil thin mustache were gone.

  Eduardo came over and shook my hand. "Hello, Mister McGee, it's good to see you again." This was a whole new Eduardo. He didn't even sound the same.

  "Good to see you, too, Eduardo," I said. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable." Eduardo sat down.

  "First I want to thank you guys for helping my grandmother with Darryl. I was afraid she was going to lose it."

  "We were very happy to help her," I said.

  "Let me explain why I'm here," Eduardo said, and he took his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a plastic enclosed card with his picture on it and handed it to me. I read it and handed it to Willey.

  Willey looked at it and asked? "You're with the FBI?" Eduardo nodded and put his ID back into his wallet.

  Eduardo said, "I've been assigned to investigate Senator Buckland's possible ties to Flaherty Construction. We knew Flaherty's right hand man, Stevens, drank at Frank's, so the Bureau put me in there as a bartender to observe him. That's why I told you about Stevens, Willey. I was hoping you'd keep your eyes and ears open while you were ferrying him back to the parking lot at night when he was drunk. I was hoping you'd pass along anything he said. You see, we're in a hiring freeze at the Bureau, and we're short of agents. That's why I'm here. I need somebody to work with me gathering evidence. I could pay you guys four hundred dollars apiece for each assignment, and a hundred dollars a day past three days.

  When I saw how well you both handled Darrell I knew you could handle gathering evidence for the Bureau. Would you guys be interested?"

  I said, "We sure could use the money, Eduardo, but we've got problems of our own with Flaherty. He wants to buy this park and throw us all out of our houses. So we started to sort of look into Flaherty's business to see if we could find anything to stop him. Flaherty found out about it, and I had a bomb planted under my house. And Willey had a Molotov Cocktail thrown at his house."

  "What happened to the bomb?" Eduardo asked.

  "It didn't go off," Willey said. "We've got it in Barney's shed. I'll get it." After Willey left, Eduardo saw Oscar watching TV.

  "Is that a monkey?" he asked.

  "Yeah, that's Oscar, he's one of Willey's relatives."

  "Relatives?"

  "It's a long story."

  "Did you guys find out anything interesting about Flaherty while you were checking Flaherty out?"

  "Only that he's chummy with Senator Buckland," I said. I couldn't tell him about the break-in.

  "Yes," Eduardo said, "We're aware of that." Eduardo smiled. "I don’t suppose you saw any envelopes passed to Senator Buckland?"

  "That's what we were hoping for, but it didn't happen."

  Willey came back in and placed the bomb on the table. "I disarmed it," he said. Eduardo picked up the putty-like substance and squeezed it. Then he smelled it and smiled.

  "Somebody's pulling your leg," he said. "This is Play Dough. And the dynamite is just road flares. Somebody is trying to scare you."

  "Well, it scared the hell out of us," I said.

  "Maybe Flaherty is just trying to scare you off."

  "What happened to the Molotov Cocktail?" Eduardo asked.

  "The bottle didn't break, and it didn't explode." I said.

  "Somebody's trying to scare you, alright," Eduardo said. "But they're not trying to kill you. At least not yet."

  Willey said, "We were going to move into an empty house on the other side of the park, and hide Barney's Wrangler."

  "That sounds like a good idea," Eduardo said. "Move and keep your heads down until this blows over." Eduardo leaned back in his chair. "So, can I talk you guys into helping me?"

  "Four hundred bucks," Willey said. "What do we have to do?"

  "Well, the Bureau received an allegation that Buckland is paying bribes to local officials to help Flaherty. Flaherty's accountant was the victim of a hit and run last month after she pointed out some discrepancies in the company's books. But she survived. She's at the Seaside Nursing Home in Palm Harbor. According to her daughter, Flaherty set her mother up to be killed."

  I thought about the black car that tried to run me down, and realized how lucky I was.

  Eduardo continued. ”She says he's giving large amounts of money to Senator Buckland. The mother won't tell the daughter too much, she's afraid they'll come after the daughter, too. I have an agent stationed outside the front entrance of the nursing home overnights to protect her. We can't send an agent inside to investigate without exposing the investigation. What I need is for one of you to go into the nursing home at night through a window that will be left unlocked, and talk to the accountant. Find out what she knows. What do you think?"

  I looked at Willey. "Think we should try it?"

  Willey asked Eduardo, "Is that it, is that all we have to do?"

  "That's all you have to do. Just get in there and find out what she knows. Then report back to me."

  "I sure could use the money," I said. "I'm willing to try it."

  "Count me in too," Willey said. "Now how do we find this unlocked window?"

  "The window is on the rear of the building facing the Gulf," Eduardo said. "It's the last window on the right. It's an empty room and you can also leave by that window after you've talked to the accountant. The unlocked room is number 204. The accountant's room number is 205, right across the hall. Just get in and tell Hattie, that's the accountant's name, that her daughter Jennifer sent you. Find out what Hattie knows, then get out of there. There's one more thing. The nursing home has camera surveillance in the front, so you'll have to come at it from the water. Do either one of you have a boat?"

  Willey said, "Palm Harbor isn't far from Frank's. We could make the trip on the pontoon boat. What do you think, Barney?"

  I said, "It's either that or I'll be living on peanut butter sandwiches for weeks." Besides, I felt safe working for the FBI.

  "When do you want us to go there?" Willey asked.

  "Tomorrow night. Do you have any questions?" Willey and I both shook our heads.

  "Okay," Eduardo said. "You've got the job. Just be careful."

  As Eduardo was leaving I said, "Tell Sofie I said, hello."

  Eduardo smiled, "I'll tell her. I think she likes you. She talks a lot about how you handled Darrell. She calls you her hero." Willey was smirking at me.

  Things were looking better, and I could go back to my own house again.

  The next night we parked on a dirt road that ran along the coast, and walked back to Frank's Restaurant. It was 3:am. Everyone had gone home. We were ready to steal the pontoon boat--but it was for a good cause, and we'd return it afterward. I carried a red plastic gas can that held a single gallon of gasoline
. We figured we could make the trip to the nursing home on just about one gallon of gas. There were a couple of gallons on board. We wanted to leave the boat with the same amount of gas as we found it.

  Willey said, "They leave the boat low on gas at night so if anybody steals it, they won't get far."

  "You sure you have the key to the boat?" I asked. Willey held it up to show me. "I made a copy when I started here in case I lost the original."

  We had brought Oscar along because we thought there might be another attack on Willey's house. We climbed aboard and poured the gas into the tank. I untied the lines and Willey turned the key in the ignition. We were off! The Intracoastal was as smooth as glass as we glided almost silently over the black water. We ran without lights. I sat up front with Oscar and watched the lights go by on the shore. It was a warm night and the ocean breeze was refreshing. The stars were bright above and the moon lit up the tops of the palmetto trees.

  Oscar seemed to be enjoying the ride. He had most likely never ridden aboard a boat before. He was fascinated by the luminescence in the water. He leaned over the side, watching the water sparkle as we moved along. I held onto the back of his shorts so he wouldn't fall in. Could monkeys swim? A streak of light in the sky caught our eyes and we watched a comet flash across the night sky. The lights of the waterfront mansions slid by one after another. Every square foot of waterfront had been built upon. That's the thing about the ocean, except for the occasional pay-to-park beach or a causeway, you can't get near the water. I had to wonder how the people in those mansions had accumulated so much wealth. I couldn't imagine being that rich.

  After about fifteen minutes the lights of the nursing home emerged out of the darkness. It sat on a point of land that jutted out into the Intracoastal, just as Eduardo had told us. Willey guided the pontoon onto a smooth patch of shoreline, and we tied up to the bushes at the water's edge. The tide was out and there were a few feet of sand showing.

  I stepped ashore. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Whatever you do, don't leave here without me."

  "We'll be here," Willey said. "Good luck."

  I climbed up a slight embankment onto the nursing home lawn facing the rear wall. It was a large, one story brick building. It appeared to be square, but the tops of palm trees jutting above the roofline told me the building had a central courtyard. They build the nursing homes in the shape of a square donut. That allows every room to have windows. The daylight is necessary to keep the old folks from getting depressed. I crept along the outside wall until I came to the last window on the right. I pushed up on the bottom and it moved easily. The windowsill was about three feet above the grass. I threw my right leg over the sill and stepped into room 204. So far, so good.

  The room was empty as promised. I slowly opened the door to the hall and looked both ways. Nobody there. I stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind me. Room 205 was just across the hall. I moved quietly and turned the doorknob on 205. It was unlocked. I opened the door and slipped inside. The only light in the room came from a night light low on the wall. I approached the bed and looked down at the sleeping woman. She must have been good looking, but now she was all banged up. I gently touched her arm and she awoke with a start.

  "It's alright," I said. "Your daughter, Jennifer sent me." She relaxed a little, but she was still unsure.

  I said, "She wants you to tell me what you know about Flaherty Construction and I'll pass it on to the FBI."

  "They tried to kill me," she said. "And they almost succeeded, the bastards. I never know if they'll send somebody in here to finish me off." I could hear the fear in her voice.

  I said, "If it makes you feel any safer, the FBI is watching this building every night."

  "Thank you, that does make me feel safer."

  I had to ask. "Hattie, the car that hit you, was it a big, black car with tinted windows?"

  "Yes, how did you know that?"

  "The same car tried to run me down. I barely escaped with my life."

  "Why would they want to kill you?" Hattie asked.

  "Because I was trying to stop Flaherty from bulldozing the mobile home park that I live in. He wants to build condos there."

  "They're no good bastards," she said. She reached out and opened the drawer of a small table that stood next to the bed. She took out a pocket notebook and handed it to me. "Here is everything I know about those sub-human pigs. I hope it puts them away for life." I put the notebook in my pocket.

  "Is there anything you want me to tell your daughter?" I asked.

  "Yes. Please tell her to be careful. Tell her not to come here to visit me. It could put her in danger."

  "I'll pass it on," I said. I nodded and went to the door. I peeked out into the hall. No one was out there. I waved goodbye to Hattie and closed the door softly behind me. Then I headed back to room 204. I had only taken a few steps when a tall, gaunt, old man in a nightgown stood up from behind a tray cart. Damn, how was I going to talk my way out of this? I nodded at the old gent and said, "Good evening."

  "She's mine," he hissed.

  "Huh?"

  "She's mine, you can't have her." He lifted his right hand, which held one of the nastiest looking carving knifes I'd ever seen. He must have swiped it from the kitchen. Don't they watch these old coots? He started shuffling towards me, holding the knife over his head, ready to stab me. I took off in the opposite direction. He kept up with me even though he was shuffling, but I wasn't exactly running, either. He chased me all the way down a long corridor. The old guy had a mean shuffle, and he didn't show any signs of slowing down. Maybe he'd get tired soon . . . I hoped. We turned the corner and I saw a glassed-in office at the end of the corridor. A nurse was sitting in it. She was busy writing and hadn't seen us yet. I looked around for a way out. There was a sign over a door that said, Exit. I headed for it. I pushed the door open and found myself in a short hallway with a metal door at the end. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the fresh night air. Free at last.

  Then I noticed the chain link fence and the locked gate. There was no way out. In the middle of the yard there was a huge trash compactor. I stood staring at it until the door behind me swung open and the geezer with the knife came out after me. I climbed up the iron rungs to the top of the compactor. I had nowhere else to go. The old guy started climbing up right after me. As he reached the top I started to walk backwards. When the roof of the compactor ended I fell backwards into a sea of trash. I seemed to be spending a lot of time in garbage lately--were the cosmos trying to tell me something? I stood up and worked my way through the garbage to the far end. When I looked back my attacker was half-way through the trash and headed my way. I threw my right leg over the side and found something to step on. Then I threw my other leg over and started searching for something else to put my foot on so I could climb down.

  My foot found something, but when I stepped on it there was a loud, clicking, sound, and the compactor roared to life. The trash under the psycho's feet started going down, and he started to drop down with it. I searched frantically with my foot but I couldn't find the switch to shut it off. I looked over the side but saw only darkness. The old man was going under fast. I reached my hand out to help him, but he swiped at me with the knife and I had to pull back.

  As he went under he hissed a final, "She's mine," at me.

  "Okay," I said. "She's yours." He smiled, and then he was gone. Again I searched for the shut-off switch without any luck . . . it was nowhere to be found.

  The compactor finally fell silent. There was nothing more I could do. He was gone, squished into a bundle of garbage the size of a bale of hay. I felt bad for him, but it wasn't my fault . . . was it? Of course, if I hadn't broken in . . . well, he was gone now and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I had to get back to the pontoon. I slowly climbed down from the compactor and tried the steel door. It was locked on the inside.

  I went to the fence and started to climb to the top. Suddenly I was very
tired. The twisted wire at the top of the fence gave me a bad time, but I managed to get over and down. I made my way back to the boat.

  "How'd it go?" Willey asked when I showed up at the water's edge. I showed him the note book and said, "Smooth as glass. Couldn't have been better." I figured what Willey didn't know couldn't hurt him--or me.

  "What was that noise I heard?" Willey asked.

  "Noise, what noise? I didn't hear anything except the air conditioning units on the roof." Willey shrugged and started the boat. We backed out into the Intracoastal. Then Willey turned the boat toward home and we disappeared into the warm Florida night.

  We sat at Willey's kitchen table the next morning going through Hattie's note book.

  "Listen to this," I said, "Flaherty's Project Managers have a dinner meeting on the second Tuesday of each month at Ransom's Restaurant in Largo. After dinner, around eight-thirty, Flaherty's lawyer, Snydely, and Senator Buckland go out into the parking lot and sit in Snydely's Lincoln. Snydely hands Buckland an envelope and Buckland puts it into his inside coat pocket. I know this because I have watched them from inside the restaurant."

  I said, "So it isn't Stevens who makes the bribes, it's that lawyer Snydely. Willey, if we could get pictures of a bribe going down we could stop Flaherty in his tracks. Wouldn't that be nice? Maybe Eduardo will even pay us to take pictures of it. I could use a zoom lens and not need a flash if the light is good enough. They wouldn't even know they were being photographed. That would pay us another four hundred bucks apiece. Ask Eduardo about that when you give him the notebook today. And tell him Hattie wants her daughter to stay away. She doesn't want her to get involved. And ask him when we're going to get paid for last night. I sure could use that money." I could see my money problems disappearing as long as Eduardo had work for us.

  "The second Tuesday in August is the day after tomorrow," Willey said. "I'll ask Eduardo and let you know."