Geezer Paradise

by Robert Gannon

  "Be careful driving," Sofie said, as we rushed for the door.

  "We will," I yelled back. As we hit the road I asked Willey, "Where's the hospital?"

  "It's just above Largo. I'll give you directions when we get to Clearwater."

  We sped down 19 South in the fast lane.

  Willey said, "Chester said Mary must have been shooting back because a couple of times he heard two gunshots at the same time. I hope she nailed the bastard good." We drove the rest of the way in silence. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  We parked a few blocks away from the hospital in case Flaherty had his killers watching the place. I reached under the front seat for a ball cap I keep there in case I get caught in a downpour. "Put this on," I said to Willey. "They'll spot you from a mile away with that mess of hair." To my surprise Willey put it on without complaining. I put on a pair of sunglasses. That was all we had for disguises. We drove around to the back of the hospital and slipped in through the emergency entrance. From there we made our way around to the lobby, where the receptionist gave us Mary's room number. We looked around to see if anybody was following us, then we got onto the elevator behind an orderly pushing a laundry cart, and got off on the third floor. We soon found Mary's room but the door was closed. I pushed it open and we walked in. A nurse sitting beside the bed put her finger to her lips to let us know to be quiet. Mary wasn't just pale, she was white. A tube came out of her nose, and an assortment of monitors read her vital signs. Two separate intravenous drips hung from a chrome pole next to the bed. She looked to be close to death.

  "How is she?" Willey whispered to the nurse. The nurse motioned for us to come out into the hall. There she asked, "Are you relatives?"

  "She's my cousin," Willey said. "Will she be alright?"

  "The surgeon said she was stabilized, but the next twenty-four hours will be critical. She can't receive visitors yet. Maybe tomorrow. We haven't been able to notify her next of kin. Maybe you could help by giving that information to the nurse's station at the end of the hall."

  "Yes," Willey said. "But you think she's going to be alright, don't you?"

  "I can only tell you what the surgeon told me. 'The next twenty-four hours will be critical'. I wish I could be more positive but we just don't know yet. I'm sorry."

  "Thank you," I said to the nurse. You've been very helpful." Then I took Willey by the arm and led him to the nurse's station. Willey gave them all the information he had about Mary's relatives. Then we went down in the elevator in silence. We went back out through the emergency room and walked back to the Wrangler.

  Willey looked grim. "Don't give up yet," I said. "Mary is tougher than she looks." Willey was silent as we drove back to Tarpon Springs. I knew Mary had been targeted because she helped us pull the Indian Sacred Ground scam. I felt like hell. When we got back to Sofie's we told her what had happened. She said a small prayer for Mary. Willey and I went out on the back deck and drank beer all afternoon. We ate a little dinner, and then I went right to bed and tossed and turned for hours before I fell asleep.

  The next morning Willey called the hospital and got good some good news. Mary was going to be alright. We both let out a sigh of relief.

  Willey said, "She can't have visitors for a couple of days. Remind me to send some flowers when we get near a florist's shop."

  "We'll both send flowers," I said. I could finally relax a little. We went out on the deck and I sat in my chair. We watched the boats go by and life was almost calm again. Almost . . . . Suddenly Snydely was there! I reached for my gun but it was in the house. Damn. He must have climbed over the railing. Snydely casually walked over and sat down in a chair opposite us.

  "Good morning gentlemen," Snydely said. "It's good to see you again."

  Willey recovered from the shock sooner than I did. "You're too late Snydely. We already turned the photos over to the cops."

  "I'm not interested in the photos," Snydely said. "I came here hoping we could come to an agreement."

  "Like the kind of agreement you made with Mary?" I asked.

  Snydely shifted in his chair and looked uncomfortable. "I heard about that. I'm truly sorry for what they did to her. They're dangerous people. Frankly, they scare the hell out of me. I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them."

  "Where's your gun, Snydely? Aren't you going to kill us?" Willey chided.

  "Please gentlemen, I know I made a mistake by working for Flaherty, but I assure you I'm not like them. I could never hurt anyone." I breathed a sigh of relief. I had thought Willey and I were going to meet our maker.

  "Then why are you here?" I asked. "What's this about an agreement?"

  Snydely didn't look as threatening as he had. In fact, he looked scared. His lawyerly demeanor had faded. "It seems I've gotten myself into a tight spot," he said.

  "Yeah," Willey said. "Shooting at people can do that to you."

  "Oh, that wasn't me who shot at you at Ransom's," Snydely said.

  "Are you saying it was the Senator who shot at us?"

  "There were only the two of us in that car," Snydely said. "And I wasn't the one who shot at you. You figure it out for yourself."

  "Is he crazy?" I asked.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact he is crazy. He's so strung out on cocaine he can't remember his own name. He's the one who shot that spear gun at you, too. Flaherty and Stevens aren't very stable, either. They're both drunk most of the time, and I think Flaherty is getting paranoid. I think he suspects me of giving information to the authorities. Now I have to protect myself from these lunatics. I feel certain they're going to kill me."

  I said, "So what kind of an agreement do you have in mind?"

  Snydely leaned back in his chair and made a tent with his fingers. "I'm here because I want you to carry a message to the authorities. Tell them I'll testify against Flaherty and Buckland. And I think Flaherty and Buckland had Stevens kill the Attorney General's father--pushed him into a trash compactor and squashed him . . . the sick bastards." Gulp. I kind of slid down into my chair a little.

  "That's what really turned the heat up," Snydely said. "Now the Attorney General is on Flaherty like white on rice."

  "Who killed Freddy?" Willey asked."

  "You mean the lawyer? I think Flaherty sent Stevens to do that piece of dirty work."

  "And what do you want for testifying?" I asked.

  "In return I want them to grant me immunity. I'll also tell them all I know about bribing Senator Buckland, and I know everything because I was the one who handed over the money. And, of course, the sooner these people are put behind bars the sooner you two can go back to trailers."

  "Don't call them trailers," Willey and I said in unison. "We call them our houses."

  "Sorry," Snydely said. "So what do you say? Will you carry the message for me?"

  Willey looked at me. "What do you think, Barney.

  I turned to Snydely and asked, "Why should we trust you when you came to the swamp to kill us? We saw the briefcase with the gun in it."

  Snydely said, "First, I don't kill people, Mister McGee. And second, I came to the swamp with a briefcase with ten thousand dollars in it. I was instructed to offer you the money for the negatives and any photos you had of Buckland and myself at the restaurant."

  I looked at Willey. He nodded. "Okay," I said. "We'll put the offer out there and see what they say. How do we get in touch with you?"

  Snydely took one of his business cards out of his pocket and wrote on the back of it. "This is my cell phone number. You can reach me day or night. Please don't give that number to anyone else, except the authorities." I figured Flaherty didn't know Snydely's cell phone number or Snydely would have tossed the phone by now. He handed the card to Willey and stood to leave.

  "Thank you gentlemen. I'll wait to hear from you." With that he turned and walked to the deck rail. He threw one leg over the rail and was about to jump to the ground, when he turned. "Do either of you gentlemen know a Jasper Jones?" he asked.

  "Willey
said, "He's my nephew, why?"

  "Flaherty's goons found him in the swamp and learned he was related to one of you. They're holding him, and they want to swap him for the photos." He walked back to us, took out another card and wrote on the back of it.

  He handed the card to Willey. "Here's the address where they have him. They only have one man guarding him, but my advice to you would be not to confront them. They'll kill you both, and your nephew. They can't afford to leave you walking around, you know too much. Give the police the address and let them handle it."

  "Damn," Willey said. "If anything happens to Jasper it will kill Edna."

  "Wait a minute," I said to Snydely. "How did you know we were here, anyway?"

  Snydely smiled, "When I found your Wrangler in the swamp I went to the trouble of having a transmitter installed under the passenger side--on the chassis. You'll probably want to remove it." So it wasn't a bomb they planted, it was a transmitter.

  "And don't worry," Snydely said. "I'm not going to give your location to Flaherty." Then he jumped down and disappeared around the side of the house.

  I looked at Willey. "We have to get in touch with Eduardo and tell him about this. Let him decide the best way to rescue Jasper." Willey and I sat quietly, trying to digest this turn of events.

  The kitchen door opened and Snydely stepped out onto the deck. He was holding his hands up in the air as if someone was pointing a gun at him. Sofie came out behind him--holding a pistol with a silencer attached. Where the hell did she get a silencer?

  She had the gun pointed at the back of Snydely's head. Snydely looked terrified.

  "Is this one of the men who have been chasing you?" Sofie asked.

  "Yes," I said. "But he came here today to make a deal. He wants to testify against the people he's been working for in return for immunity. I'm sorry we got you involved in this, Sofie."

  Sofie smiled at me. "I'm glad you're worried about me, Barney, but I can handle people like this. What do you want me to do with him?"

  "Well, I don't think there are any warrants out for his arrest," I said. "So I suppose we have to let him go."

  Sofie motioned toward the door with the gun. "Go," she said to Snydely. "And don't come back." Snydely scurried through the doorway. We could hear him running through the house--he seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

  Sofie sat down and put her pistol on the patio table. "Do either of you own a gun?" she asked.

  "I have a pistol back in the room," I said.

  "Do you know how to use it?"

  "Yes."

  "Good," Sofie said. "I never know when I might need a backup." She stood up and rubbed the wrinkles out of her apron. She picked up her gun and said, "I'm just taking an apple pie out of the oven. Would you boys like a piece?"

  "Yes," we both said. And then we had enough manners to say, "Thank you."

  "We'll be in right after I make a phone call," Willey said.

  Sofie stopped at the kitchen door. "You don't have to worry," she said. "You'll be safe here. That man won't come back." I believed her. Willey and I went out to my Wrangler, to remove the transmitter. It was right where Snydely said it would be. It was surprisingly small. I dropped it on the ground and crushed it with the heel of my shoe.

  Willey called his sister, Edna--she was hysterical. Willey promised her we would rescue Jasper. Then he called Eduardo and told him about Snydely's offer to testify against Flaherty and Buckland, but he didn't mention Jasper. Eduardo was happy with the news. We gave him Snydely's telephone number. Eduardo told us he would be back in about a week. They were close to wrapping up the terrorist plot.

  After Willey disconnected he said, "I knew Eduardo couldn't help us rescue Jasper right away. And we can't wait that long to get Jasper back. Edna will have a stroke. We'll have to do it ourselves."

  "Do you think just the two of us will be able to pull it off?" I asked.

  "Maybe we should ask Sofie to help us," Willey said. "I'd feel a lot safer with her on our side." We went inside and told Sofie what was going on, and what we needed to do. Then we asked her if she would help us.

  "Of course I'll help you," Sofie said without hesitation. "Now sit down and have some pie." Yes, we needed Sofie

  Chapter Sixteen

  IT WAS A warehouse on the outskirts of Palm Harbor. There was only a sliver of orange moon above, and the darkness was comforting. The warehouse looked deserted. Surrounded by trees, it was almost invisible from the street. We had no idea how to rescue Jasper. Our only hope was we outnumbered them, or at least we hoped we did. We weren't sure how many of them were in there. One for sure, two possibly, but two at the most. How many people does it take to watch over someone who was most likely chained to a water pipe?

  I had my .38 revolver semi-automatic. Willey had a 9mm Sofie had lent him. Sofie had her pistol--minus the silencer. We were drawn to the only window that showed light. I got close and looked in. The window was grimy and covered with cobwebs, but I could see Jasper sitting on a chair, his right hand handcuffed to a pipe that ran horizontally along the wall. He looked glum. Across the room from him sat one of the goons that showed up at the swamp with Snydely. It was after midnight and the ogre seemed to be nodding off.

  There was a second floor but we couldn’t see any outside stairs. We worked our way around to the rear of the building and found a flight of half rotted stairs leading up to a small landing and a door on the second floor. We were carrying a pry bar and bolt cutters. Each of us carried a flashlight. If we needed more tools we'd just have to improvise. I started up the stairs with the pry bar. Willey was behind me shining his flashlight on the stairs so I could avoid the rotted parts. Sofie held Oscar's hand, her gun in the other hand. We moved silently up the stairs to the landing.

  There was a hasp and a padlock on the door. I put the pry bar next to the hasp and pushed it into the soft wood. I gently pushed on the bar and the screws came out of the rotted wood. The door knob turned but it was locked. I worked the pry bar between the door and the jamb and pushed with all my strength. The wooden jamb compressed enough to expose the bolt. The door swung open. Once inside we turned on our flashlights and looked the place over. It was filled with steel drums. I gave one a push. It was heavy, they were filled with something. I read the label--it was turpentine. There was a handrail at the front of the building. That would be the stairs leading down to the first floor. As quietly as we could we walked to the front of the building and made our way down the stairs.

  I stood at the bottom of the stairs and tried the door knob. It wasn't locked. I opened the door slowly and looked out. It was just Jasper and the goon. So far luck had been with us. I closed the door and turned to Willey.

  "What do you think?" I whispered.

  "Maybe we should create a diversion," Willey said. "You know, something to distract him until we get inside."

  "Like what?"

  "We could have Sofie throw something through the window. Maybe he'd go outside to investigate.

  "But then he'll shoot Sofie and Oscar." I said.

  "Well, we can't just walk in there."

  "He seems to be falling asleep," I said. "Let's wait until he falls asleep and we might be able to sneak up on him. Maybe we can surprise him before he has a chance to get his gun up." We all sat on the stairs and waited, and then waited some more. Finally the thug's head went down, his gun on the table. I told Sofie to wait there with Oscar. I was afraid Oscar might start chattering when he saw Jasper. I handed the tools to Sofie and we took out our guns. Then I opened the door and Willey and I stepped out of the stairwell. We hadn't taken three steps when Jasper saw us and broke out into a big smile. The goon swung around and leveled his gun at us. He hadn't been asleep after all. We didn't even have a chance to point our guns at him.

  "Drop the guns," he roared. We had no choice, we dropped them. He motioned toward Jasper with his gun. "Get over there with your friend," he said. We went over and stood next to Jasper.

  Willey whacked Jasper on the back of h
is head. "That's for being stupid," Willey said. Jasper rubbed his head with his free hand. The goon picked up our guns and stuck them into his waistband. Then he went over to the door we came out of, constantly turning and pointing his gun at us. My heart was in my throat as he pulled the door open. Sofie and Oscar were gone. He flicked a switch on the wall next to the open door and the hallway lit up. Then he stuck his head inside the doorway and yelled, "Come out with your hands up or I'll shoot your friends." No response. He clearly he wanted to check out the second floor but he couldn't leave us alone. He walked back to us and asked, "Who's up there?"

  "Nobody," I said. "It's just the two of us." The goon looked around, looking for something. I knew he was looking for something to tie us up with. He couldn't find anything. Then he sat at the table, stood up again, took our guns out of his waistband and put them on the table. They must have been sticking into his beer belly. He stared at us from under his simian brow. He wanted to kill us but he had to get permission first. He sat again and opened his cell phone.

  "Damn," he said when someone answered. "Guess what I've got for company? . . . Two old geezers with guns. Yeah, that's right. Broke in through the second floor and tried to sneak up on me. I don't have anything to tie them up with . . . Yeah, okay," he said, a little calmer now. "I'll keep them covered until you get here." Then he started shouting, "What do you mean fifteen or twenty minutes?" He stood and paced around, all the time keeping his gun trained on us.

  "Yeah, yeah," he said into the phone. "Just get here as soon as you can. I got a bad feeling about this." He closed his cell phone and sat down to watch us.

  "You two sit on the floor," he said. "And no talking."

  Willey and I sat on the floor and didn't talk. We hadn't been on the floor for more than a minute when we heard the thunk of a steel drum hitting the floor above, and then we heard the turpentine splashing down the stairs. It came through the open door in a torrent, and spread halfway to us before it stopped. The entire first floor filled with the highly combustible fumes.