SIXTEEN
WADS READJUSTED HIMSELF, uncomfortable in both the hard oak armchair and the suit he’d borrowed from his uncle, the suit one size too small. He faced a grand jury meeting in a plain-vanilla committee room.
Constance Herr, in dark slacks, cream-colored blouse, and a tailored red jacket, stood to Wads’s side. She looked up from the notes on her legal pad. “Mister Wadkowski, would it surprise you that the bullet that killed Shatha Naseri–the wife of Raheem Naseri who was also murdered, the accountant who worked for Ralph Barnard–came from the same gun that an assailant used when he attempted to kill you?”
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“I saw his car the night he killed Shatha, and I saw him with the car when he came to the Kwik Trip store I manage.”
“And you were where at the time?”
“In the office. We were watching him on a video monitor. We’d just had it fixed.”
“What happened?”
“He’d already shot at me once, so I triggered an alarm and he ran.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Not clearly, no.”
Herr went to the lectern. When she returned, she carried a photo which she handed to Wads. “Can you identify this person?”
“Ohmigod.”
“So you know him. Fingerprints identify him as your assailant, as one Garth Kellogg.”
Wads pulled at his earlobe. “No wonder he wouldn’t give me his name.”
“How do you know him?”
“He was in a Guard unit in Iraq. They loaned him to my military police company.”
“And why would that be?”
“Kellogg had a special skill set that made him particularly valuable.”
“He was an assassin, wouldn’t it be right to say that?”
“Yes. When we’d identify an opposition commander we thought best be eliminated, we’d send him out. It was cheaper than a rocket and far less messy.”
“Your Mister Kellogg, he did what you might call good work?”
“Until he began killing Iraqis who were important to us.”
“So what happened?”
“The captain ordered my squad to hunt him down, kill him if necessary.”
“And did you find him?”
“We thought so, dead in a house that had been booby trapped. His body was badly torn up, but we found his wallet and dog tags. A DNA sample identified him. Had to have been tampered with now, I suppose.”
“So he eluded you.” Herr studied Wads. “Could his attempt at killing you be revenge?”
“I don’t think so. He said I was a problem that he’d been hired to, in effect, clean up.”
“Did he tell you who hired him?”
“No, so I asked if it was Ralph Barnard. He didn’t deny it.”
WADS AND HIS UNCLE stood at a window outside the committee room, gazing at the Capitol across the way, the late afternoon sun casting half the building in shadow.
Harley Wadkowski leaned against the frame. “So you knew this guy.”
“A hundred years ago.” Wads rubbed his side.
“And you never recognized him?”
“I suppose I should have known his voice, but I thought all this time he was dead. And I couldn’t see his face well enough.”
“Well, you don’t have to beat yourself up.”
Herr came out of the committee room, talking on her cellphone. She clicked off her call and conferred with Trooper Blanowitz, pointed him off toward the elevator and he left. Herr came over to Wads and his uncle.
She held up a folded paper. “We got it. Wads, your testimony was the clincher. The grand jury handed down a true bill.”
“So now are you going to arrest Ralph?”
“Not just yet. The Milwaukee Symphony is playing a concert in the rotunda tonight, and I’m going. How would you like to be my guests?”
SEVENTEEN
THE TWO WADKOWSKIS, both in tuxedos, stood next to the statue of one-time Wisconsin governor and senator, ‘Fighting’ Bob La Follette. They passed the time gassing about the weather until Trooper Blanowitz, in dress uniform, came up with Howard Zigman, the tall, lean detective from the Wappello County Sheriff’s Department.
Zigman slapped Wads’s shoulder. “My God, I didn’t believe it when Blanny told me you were alive. Did you know Barb’s planning your funeral?”
Wads tugged at his earlobe. “Guess she can call it off.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“They haven’t let me near a phone.”
“Ooo, she’s gonna be upset, probably kill you just so she can still have the funeral. She’s got thirty-five bottles of Muscle Milk on the back bar–for your age–each with a crepe band.”
“Oh Lordy. So what’re you doing here?”
“Not sure. Blanny called me, told me to get my butt up here, lights and siren if I had to.” Zigman gestured toward the orchestra tuning up at the north side of the rotunda. “Do you know if they’ll be playing any Bach?”
Harley Wadkowski pulled down on his cummerbund. “I was hoping for some Willy Nelson.”
Wads gave him a doleful look, then swivelled back to Zigman. “Howard, this is my Uncle Harley. Harley’s a state assemblyman from Sauk County. Unc, Howard Zigman’s a sheriff’s detective and I guess maybe the best friend I’ve got.”
“Assemblyman, I should arrest your nephew for dunking me in lake the other day.”
Wads gave Zigman a one-armed hug. “Hey, buddy, I pulled you out.”
“It was zero. I darn near froze.”
“It was twenty-eight. I can’t believe you were any more than just a tad chilly.”
Blanowitz raised a hand. “Enough. Let’s get seated.” He guided Wads and his uncle into the third row. “The A.G.’s going to be behind, but don’t turn around until she speaks to you. Understood?”
Wads waved his agreement.
Blanowitz and Zigman took seats in the fourth row, Blanowitz taking care to keep three seats open to the left of Zigman.
Moments later, Constance Herr, in a strapless maroon evening gown and a diamond necklace, entered the rotunda, Ralph Barnard at her side, he in a swallowtail tuxedo. She motioned him into the fourth row.
“It’s a shame Elsa couldn’t come,” she said as she sat down. “Oh, there’s someone here you should meet.”
Herr tapped Wads’s shoulder, and he twisted around.
Barnard gaped.
Wads winked at him. “Surprise. I haven’t been buried just yet.”
Herr picked it up. “Ralph, he testified before a grand jury today about your shooter, Garth Kellogg. The jury indicted you for conspiracy to commit murder and murder for hire.”
“The hell you say.”
“I do say.” She motioned to Zigman. “Detective, do you have your handcuffs?”
Wads clapped Barnard on the shoulder. “Ralph, how are you at doing the perp walk?”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This is the sixth book I’ve published as indie author, the fourth under my Grand Medallion Books imprint.
We indie authors depend on a lot of people to make our stories and books the best that they can be. Dawn Charles of Book Graphics, a superb cover designer, worked with me on this volume.
Just as a knock-out cover is vital to grabbing potential readers and so are the words on the back cover that say this book is one you absolutely ought to buy. For those words, I turned to Chicago crime writer Michael Black. Mike has written a
much taller stack of mysteries and private eye novels than I have. He even wrote two with now retired Law & Order: SVU star Richard Belzer. Said Mike of this book, “Jerry Peterson’s new thriller is a thrill-a-minute ride down a slippery slope of suspense and shootouts. Engaging characters, spiffy dialogue, and non-stop action make this one a real winner.”
A note of appreciation to all librarians. They, like you and your fellow readers who have enjoyed my James Early mysteries, my AJ Garrison crime novels, and my short story collections, have been real boosters. Without them and you, there would be no reason to write.
A NOTE FROM JERRY
I wrote Iced as a thumb novel is 2009, to be read on your cellphone . . . 34 chapters, none longer than 500 words–two pages of copy double-spaced. It was an experiment to see whether I could write really tight. For me, a thriller seemed to be appropriate.
I posted Iced on TextNovel.com. It’s still there.
Last year, I called up Iced and decided to rework it as the first of four John Wads novellas that would follow the seasons.
During the rewriting, I decided to let each chapter seek its own length. As a consequence, Iced as you read it now is 17 chapters rather than 34. The word count shortened, too, 14,855 words, down from 14,947 . . . almost half the difference is the result of eliminating 17 chapter headings.
Aren’t you impressed by the numbers I just tossed off? Can’t you picture me huddled in my writing room, counting the words one by one to get the exact number in the two versions?
No?
I can’t picture me doing it, either. Not when WordPerfect has an auto-count feature.
Click, there’s the number.
I originally titled this novella Short Death. A short novel. Short chapters. You get it.
But Millie Mader, one of my colleagues in my Madison writers group, said no, the title should be Iced. “You have your killer ice two people.”
Hey, I’ll go for that.
And I did.
Thank you, Millie.
Coming next in this series is Rubbed Out. It’s a step back toward the traditional mystery. Still with short chapters. Still tightly written. But the book is longer, in round figures 30,000 words, 50 percent longer than Iced.
The idea for the new novella came in the spring of 2013 when Marge and I swung off the road in Missouri to see Fantastic Caverns. Neither of us had been there before. It was a brochure we had picked up at a tourist information stop that sold us. The brochure advertised Fantastic Caverns as “America’s only ride-through cave.”
We jumped on a Jeep-drawn tram, and a guide drove us inside, down through the cave to a turn-around point, and back, telling us about the sights all the way along . . . a 55-minute tour.
Back in Prohibition days, the owner operated a speakeasy in this cave.
Crank forward to the 1950s and ’60s. The owner hosted a series of Grand Ole Opry type shows, the performers working from a stage in the cave, and the shows broadcast live on local radio station KGBX.
A big cave, a speakeasy, a performance space for music shows . . . throw in a little crime and corruption and, wow, the story possibilities were terrific.
You’re going to enjoy Rubbed Out.
JP
Janesville, Wisconsin, February 2014
WHAT PEOPLE SAY ABOUT MY BOOKS
Early’s Fall, a James Early Mystery, book 1
“If James Early were on the screen instead of in a book, no one would leave the room.”
– Robert W. Walker, author of Children of Salem
Early’s Winter, a James Early Mystery, book 2
“Jerry Peterson’s Early’s Winter is a fine tale for any season. A little bit Western, a little bit mystery, all add up to a fast-paced, well-written novel that has as much heart as it does darkness. Peterson is a first-rate storyteller. Give Early’s Winter a try, and I promise you, you’ll be begging for the next James Early novel. Spring can’t come too soon.”
– Larry D. Sweazy, Spur-award winning author of The Badger’s Revenge
The Watch, an AJ Garrison Crime Novel, book 1
“Jerry Peterson has written a terrific mystery, rich in atmosphere of place and time. New lawyer A.J. Garrison is a smart, gutsy heroine.”
– James Mitchell, author of Our Lady of the North
Rage, an AJ Garrison Crime Novel, book 2
“Terrifying. Just–terrifying. Timely and profound and even heartbreaking. Peterson’s taut spare style and truly original voice create a high-tension page turner. I really loved this book.”
– Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha, Anthony and Macavity winning author
The Last Good Man, a Wings Over the Mountains novel, Book 1
Jerry Peterson joins the ranks of the writer’s writer–that is, an author other authors can learn from, as in how to open and close a book, but also in how to run the course.”
– Robert W. Walker, author of Curse of the RMS Titanic
Capitol Crime, a Wings Over the Mountains novel, Book 2
“In Capitol Crime, Peterson’s vivid characters jump right off the page, and his sharp detail and snappy dialog puts the reader right in the middle of Prohibition-era action and one of the wildest schemes ever to take down a bootlegging ring. So buckle up. You’re in for a hellava ride!”
– J. Michael Major, author of One Man’s Castle.
Iced, a John Wads Crime Novella, book 1
“Jerry Peterson’s new thriller is a thrill-a-minute ride down a slippery slope of suspense and shootouts. Engaging characters, spiffy dialogue, and non-stop action make this one a real winner.”
Michael A. Black, author of Sleeping Dragons, a Mack Bolan Executioner novel
Rubbed Out, a John Wads Crime Novella, book 2
“Jerry Peterson’s latest thriller gives us, once again, an endearing hero, a town full of suspects, and quick action leading to a surprising climax. If you like your thrills to be delivered by strong characters in a setting that matters, this one’s for you.”
– Betsy Draine, co-author with Michael Hinden of Murder in Lascaux and The Body in Bodega Bay
A James Early Christmas and The Santa Train, Christmas short story collections
“These stories are charming, heart-warming, and well-written. It’s rare today to see stories that unabashedly champion simple generosity and good will, but Jerry Peterson does both successfully, all the while keeping you entertained with his gentle humor. This should definitely go under your tree this season.”
– Libby Hellmann, author of Nice Girl Does Noir, a collection of short stories
A James Early Christmas – Book 2, a Christmas short story collection
“What brings these Christmas tales to life is the compassion of their protagonist and their vivid sense of time and place. James Early’s human warmth tempers the winter landscape of the Kansas plains in the years after World War II. A fine collection.”
– Michael Hinden, co-author with Betsy Draine of the Nora Barnes and Toby Sandler mysteries
The Cody & Me Chronicles, a Christmas short story collection and more
“Jerry Peterson is a fireside tale-spinner, warm and wistful, celebrating what is extraordinary in ordinary people with homespun grace.”
– John Desjarlais, author of Specter
Flint Hills Stories, Stories I Like to Tell – Book 1
“Jerry Peterson’s short stories are exactly how short stories should be: quick, but involving; pleasant, but tense; and full of engaging characters and engaging conflicts. I can think of few better ways to spend an afternoon than being submerged in James Early
’s Kansas.”
– Sean Patrick Little, author of The Bride Price
Fireside Stories, Stories I Like to Tell – Book 3
“Witty and clever, Jerry Peterson spins a tale with a deft pen and an ear for dialogue that you don't find too often. There's an old-fashioned sense of character and craft in Peterson's works that will have you desperate for more.”
– Sean Patrick Little, author of The Bride Price
A Year of Wonder, Stories I Like to Tell – Book 4
“These 24 short gems run the gamut from humorous to mysterious, including a welcome return of Sheriff James Early. You’ll wish that a year had more than 12 months in it so that you could have more of these fine stories! A very good year, indeed.”
– Ted Hertel, Jr., recipient of MWA’s Robert L. Fish (Edgar) Award for Best First Short Story by an American author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I write crime novels and short stories set in Kansas, Tennessee, and Wisconsin.
Before becoming a writer, I taught speech, English, and theater in Wisconsin high schools, then worked in communications for farm organizations for a decade in Wisconsin, Michigan, Kansas and Colorado.
I followed that with a decade as a reporter, photographer, and editor for newspapers in Colorado, West Virginia, Virginia, and Tennessee.
Today, I live and write in Wisconsin, my home state--the land of dairy cows, craft beer, and good books.
THE LEGAL STUFF
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relationship to anyone, living or dead, bearing the same name or names. All incidents are pure invention from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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