She smiled at him and waved. “This is your garden Willie. It has room for more flowers, yet.”
19
Human In Distress
“Don’t you ‘Merle my boy’ me!” snapped the dragon. “You have a lot of things you need to answer for, Mr. Potty.”
The old man smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I know you’re upset son. It was not my intention to let you rot in prison.”
“As you can see, it was not my intention to rot in there either.” Merle stomped up to the old man and aimed a kick at his shin.
Potty swiveled his feet away and held out a warning finger at the dragon. “I deserved that my boy. I’ll give you that one. Won’t you let me make up for all the horrible things you must have endured in the past few weeks?”
“Oh you’ll make up for it, alright,” agreed Merle. “They have a cot with your name on it in cell block two. The room is a little drafty, right now, but give them a couple of days and they’ll get it back to its original squalor, I’m certain! You’re going to love the pancakes, in there.”
“I followed your trial with gusto, son.”
“I’m not your son. You and your son can be cellmates for all I care!”
“Eh?" snorted Potty, “why on earth would I want to be his cellmate?”
“Because I am certain Azilda will be going to a woman’s institute. You’ll have no contact with her after that. Junior on the other hand will need your guidance if he is to survive for any length of time behind bars.”
“Neither Azi nor I will be attending any prison, Mr. Merle. Perhaps you would like to indulge me with what it is you think I’ve done to warrant a prison sentence.”
“Oh ho ho,” cried Merle, “you do have balls! I don’t know what you think you can get away with here, but I’m going to tell you, right now, NOT IN MY TOWN, MISTER!”
Alex Senior scratched at the stubble on his chin. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this, Mr. Merle. Would you care to explain your line of reasoning?” he tapped at one of the smaller global views, on which Merle could see Johnny, hiding behind Stoneman. There was no sound, but it was evident Johnny was yelling at someone in the excavation tunnel. “It would appear we have a few minutes before the police storm in and arrest your friends again.”
“We won’t be the only ones going back,” confided Merle, “but I don’t have a problem sharing with you the mistakes you made.”
“Oh yes please!” said Alex Senior with a genuine smile. “This should be fun.”
“Well you already know what I presented at the trial. When I thought you were dead, I had surmised that your son and Azilda had killed you for all your money. I knew that Azilda could issue commands to P.C. This also fit with the fact that Garrett had found the back door to our place open. Of course he blamed me, but I knew I was innocent.”
“Yes, of course you were,” agreed Senior still grinning.
Merle pulled the blue notebook from his pocket and thumped it with the back of his hand. “This log book with instructions and commands for operating P.C. was also missing. Do you know where I found it?” he asked.
“Of course, I do,” agreed Potty, “right where Azi left it: in her desk. I watched you recover it not fifteen minutes ago.”
“Then you don’t deny any of this?”
“Why would I deny anything?" asked Potty. “You’re right on the button so far.”
Merle cleared his throat and cast a glance to where P.C. had contented himself with dusting the shelves. “Well, err…my friends, who were investigating for me, found the needle in the lower medical station, as well as the bead from Azilda’s necklace. As I presented to the court, I figured she had programmed P.C. to apply a mock beating on you, while she hid in the lower medical station with the poison filled needle. Once you were wheeled down by Guard Godle, she stuck you with the poison. P.C. would be blamed for the murder, and she and that miserable son of yours would be scott-free.”
“Ah yes, you were very close on that. Too bad you couldn’t disprove her alibi, during your court hearing.”
“The security logs, claiming she had gone to her office before the attack and then came out of her office after you were wheeled away, stumped me for some time, I must admit.” Merle nodded at the black and white globe where Stoneman was shaking Marcus over the pool of water. A pie had been set on the cement ground at the tunnel entrance and Merle squinted, trying to make out what was going on. One of the policemen was using a long stick to push the pie toward Johnny. Merle looked back to Potty. “It was Johnny that reminded me that P.C. could emulate voices.
“Ah,” said Potty, with a shake of his finger. “Shrewd, is he?”
“Obnoxious is the word I would use,” corrected Merle. “Anyway, once I recalled P.C.’s ability, it was child’s play to figure out how to manipulate your security system. On the night of the alleged beating, everyone was in shock and it came as no surprise when people lost track of Azilda. I figure she went to the security door by the offices – right before the planned attack, and opened it. She did not however go through the doorway. She stuck the wooden door stopper under the door, leaving it open. She returned to the party, and then made her way to the lower medical station. After Alex Junior and P.C. tussled, everyone assumed your boy had chased the robot outside and into the night. The main doors were unsecured that night, with all of the visitors welcome to come and go at their leisure, so there would be no record of him leaving the building via that route. However, seeing as Azilda had left the door to the offices open for him, there would also be no record of him entering that way, either. He simply went with P.C. into the offices, closing the door behind them. When they emerged, several minutes later, he had P.C. emulate Azilda’s voice in order to exit the area, and thus collected a time stamp for her on your security logs.”
“Bravo,” said the old man. He tapped his leg in a gesture of applause. “I’m guessing that you knew you could find me here, tonight? So how did you get past this notion of murder of yours?”
“Did I not say everyone was in shock that evening, Mr. Potty?” Merle stared at the old man, his eyes boring into the one armed man. ‘That includes you, Sir. Anaphylactic, though yours may have been.”
“Oh, ho,” exclaimed the old man, “You are a clever one, Mr. Merle. You know, she said you might figure it out. I didn’t believe it, but I stand corrected.”
“So then, the idea was yours?”
“Yes,” sighed the old man, “the idea and the risk.” He looked at Merle, respect in his eyes. “May I ask how you puzzled it out?”
“You told me, yourself,” admitted Merle.
“Did I?” asked the old man, genuinely confounded.
“The day P.C. washed your mouth out with soap in the boardroom. You were so angry you wanted to punish everyone around you. Of course, the attack had been planned, but I am sure you were embarrassed to be taken down and spanked in front of all your colleagues.”
“Indeed so,” agreed Potty.
“As you were leaving, you remarked that you wished to speak to the damnable caterer that had supplied the crab cakes, because you were allergic to seafood.”
“Oh yes, I do recall that now.”
Merle nodded. “It was a fact I did not process for some time. But then, after your murder, Mrs. Gretta Cordell testified that immediately before the attack you had consumed two jumbo shrimp. I was forced to ask myself why a man who was allergic to seafood would endanger himself in this manner. Of course, it all came together after that. There was no poison in the needle. It was adrenaline. Azilda had not murdered you, but had in fact saved you.”
“Yes,” said Potty rubbing at his leg, “she was quite forceful with her ministrations.”
“I knew all along that P.C. was incapable of hurting anyone. In fact, Mr. Godle even said that P.C. issued command three-seven-eight as he charged across the room to engage you. If I had this booklet, or had even been allowed to speak to P.C. in person, I might have figured it out sooner. Azilda had it
planned to a tee, though. She knew that, as rough as P.C. is, he would see your distress at ingesting the shrimp and come to your rescue. P.C. would never differentiate between you choking on food, or your throat closing due to an allergic reaction. He would attempt to save you, either way.”
“Yes, that was some rescue,” harrumphed the old man. “His ministrations were even more forceful than Azi’s. I still have bruises.”
“And yet you remain among the living.”
“That was the plan,” agreed the old man, with a wink.
“The fact that the body taken to the coroners was not yours was also a great indicator that I would find you lurking here tonight. Did you kill that other man?”
“I did no such thing!” argued Potty in surprise. “That man died of natural causes. We merely bruised up the body, as if he had been beaten up by your golem.” P.C’s head snapped around to glare at the old man, his dust rag suspended. “I mean, your helper,” amended Potty. P.C. went back to his dusting, and both the dragon and the old man clearly heard the click of P.C.’s soap holster closing. Potty swallowed. “The man was a war hero that died down at the docks. I promised his wife I would take care of the burial, and I have also commissioned the building of a statue in the man’s honour. It did not feel right to beat up the body, but I told myself he had moved on, and it was for the greater good of my cause.”
“Greater good indeed,” snorted Merle. “At least that explains the army tattoo on the coroner’s report. I was also interested by the fact that your ring was not returned with your ashes.”
“My ring?” inquired Potty. He glanced at the monitor of the evac room. Two policemen had talked their way inside, and Johnny and Stoneman had backed up several feet. Marcus was still suspended over the water, and Johnny seemed preoccupied with his pie.
“Yes, before I realised it was not your body that the coroner had examined, I found it odd that your ring and your glasses were not returned with your ashes, to your son. Even the Park’s cremated dog had his choker chain returned. You do wear glasses for reading, don’t you, Mr. Potty?”
“Yes,” agreed Potty dumbfounded.
“When you read your speech, that night, I figured you had put your glasses back in your pocket, as I had not seen you wear them before. These could indeed have been lost in the scuffle with P.C, but I doubted that your ring had come off in the brawl. A few people saw you punch P.C. in the eye before he got a hold of you. You even shattered one of his orbs.”
“I’m sorry about that,” apologised Potty. He stood from his chair, his eyes still watching the monitor. The side door to the evac room was also open now, and several policemen in riot gear had entered the room. “I had to put up a fight, to make it look good.”
Merle thought he saw the judge who had presided over the case amongst the armored cops, but it was difficult to be certain as the men shuffled behind their large riot shields. “Well, there you have it,” he concluded. “From murder one, to conspiracy to defraud.”
“Conspiracy to defraud?” asked Potty. “He turned his attention back to the dragon.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out,” confided Merle. “If they were not murdering you for your money, I had to ask myself why you would wish to make it look like you had been murdered by P.C.”
“Ah I understand,” said Potty. “You almost had it.” He nodded knowingly.
Merle looked the slightest bit tentative, but continued. “The three of you are in it for the insurance pay out. You yourself get a nice lump sum of millions to retire with. Maybe you planned on disappearing to some tropical island with this little bonus? Azilda and Alex Junior take over the business and everyone profits.”
“I’ve quite had my fill of tropical islands,” said Senior. He stepped forward, aiming to place his hand on the dragon’s shoulder. “Your mind is like a steel trap,” he acknowledged. “You had everything figured out, except the part where my son actually did try to kill me.”
“Don’t!” warned Merle. He stepped back from the old man and discharged a minor blast of electricity.
Potty yanked his hand back. “Easy, son, I’m not interested in confronting you. I really have nothing to hide.” He turned back to the monitor, where Johnny and Stoneman were being backed into the corner by a two pronged police push. “You see, Azi and my son, really, are not engaged. Don’t tell him that, though.” The old man snickered.
“What do you mean?” asked Merle. His eyes were also on the scene playing out on the security G.V.
“Azi is my bodyguard,” said Potty. “I hired her when I first had an inkling my son wanted me dead so that he could control my empire.”
“Bodyguard?” breathed Merle. He thought on this.
“Oh yes, she is a wondrous woman, as I am sure you know. She is very intelligent and can hold her own with a sword too. Not that we ever have use for such measures. As I was saying, I hired her to get close to my son. Once I was sure he wanted to harm me, we came up with this little stunt.”
“I don’t understand,” said Merle. “Why didn’t you go to the police with your suspicions?”
“I had to see it for myself to be certain. It’s one thing to talk about murdering someone, but to actually go through with it… and your own father? Well, that is a certain kind of evil. Azi had the same notion as you, but I convinced her to commit to our plan. Yes, there was a degree of danger to myself, but if we pulled it off, my son would think he had succeeded in murdering me.”
“And meanwhile, I sit in prison, until you decide to come forward with the truth.”
“For that, I am very sorry,” acknowledged Potty. “You may blame me entirely for the past few weeks. Again, I convinced Azi to go along with my wishes. Be assured, she was none too happy about leaving you behind bars. I guaranteed her that it would not be for long.”
“Do you know how long one day feels in that place?” asked Merle.
“I can only imagine,” returned Potty. “We can discuss compensation in the near future. However, right now, I think we should get out there and call those policemen off your friend. You should know that, ironically, you would have been a free man, as of tomorrow. I had to wait for the guest of honour to arrive in town.”
“Tomorrow?” said Merle, unwilling to believe it. “Guest of honor?”
“Yes indeed,” agreed Potty, scrutinising the monitor. “I know it seemed like an eternity to you, but I had to wait for the right moment to show myself.” He tapped the G.V., a wide grin splitting his face. “There’s the old battle-axe now, right on time.” The side door in the evac chamber was open again and five more people entered.
The old man cackled to himself and pushed a red button on the desk beside him. “Lockdown,” echoed a feminine voice throughout the small room.
Merle watched two uniformed policemen escort Azi and Alex and a third unknown woman into the evac chamber. “That cow in the back is my ex-wife, and Alex’s mother. Let’s go.” The old man sauntered to the door. “If she thinks she’s getting her claws into my business, she’s got another thing coming. Hurry up, Mr. Merle. You won’t want to miss the look on her face!”
* * * *
“Put the hostage down!” The police moved in another step.
“Give him a rattle,” said Johnny. He was backed into the corner of the chamber and officially out of real-estate. His cheeks were covered in apple pie filling, and he waved the empty pie tin as if he would throw it at his aggressors.
Stoneman shook Marcus, and the leader of the Monarchs wailed. “Don’t you let him do it! I can barely swim on the best of days! I’ll sink like a stone, wrapped in this bedframe.”
Judge Perew stood on the opposite side of the water chamber, his calculating eyes watching Johnny. “Calm yourself, boy. This is not helping your situation.”
“Admit it,” screamed Johnny, you made a mistake. “Tell these guys to let me go. I didn’t do anything.”
The door behind Perew opened and two more guards escorted Azi, Alex Junior, and Alex’
s mom into the room. The elder lady was dressed in a fine fur coat and carried a small black purse on her shoulder. She did not look happy about being dragged into the middle of the situation.
“Stay back, ma’am,” warned one of their armed escorts.
“You attacked a man…err a dragon in my courtroom,” argued Perew. He had briefly glanced over his shoulder at the arrival of the others, but now returned his gaze to Johnny.
“And this man almost killed me, in prison, for no reason. I can’t go back to that place. Let me walk out of here, and me and old Stoneman will do community service, I swear!”
“That’s not going to happen, son. You caused a lot of damage at the prison tonight. You also took this man, against his will.” Perew leaned on the railing, one foot on the bottom rung as he tried to talk sense to the young man across the room.
“Haven’t you been listening to me?” cried Johnny. “I’ll do it! Stoneman…”
He was cut off by Junior’s indignant shout. “Just what do you think you are doing, buddy? You and that dragon have a lot of nerve, breaking into my place. I suppose he’s convinced you he’s innocent, has he? Well, I assure you…”
Now it was Junior’s turn to be cut off as the door at the top of the stairs swung out. Merle waddled onto the landing, followed by Senior and then P.C. “Whose place?” asked Senior, and all eyes turned to the old man.
Junior gasped and took a step back. “What the hell… what game is this?” He clung to his mother’s arm, but her look was just as disbelieving.
“I told you it would be worth it,” chortled Old Man Potty to Merle. He walked past the dragon and down the stairs. For every step forward he took, his son backed up one. “The game we play is yours, my boy. You started it, but I’m about to finish it. You gentlemen need to go easy on Johnny there and his golem. The man you want is right here, my son, Alex Potty Junior. He planned on murdering me and blaming Merle and his helper – P.C. The old man looked to the judge and nodded. I can explain everything that has happened here over the past few weeks, Judge. Believe me when I tell you it was in my best interest to remain hidden from this young man. He would have done anything to seize power from me.” The judge scowled when he finally realised who Senior was.
Something Stinks in Deep Cove (The Vellian Books Book 4) Page 25