The Bass Wore Scales (The Liturgical Mysteries)

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The Bass Wore Scales (The Liturgical Mysteries) Page 25

by Mark Schweizer


  “Hi, Wormy,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “I guess,” grumbled Wormy. “I wish someone would go ahead and shoot that gorilla.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Yeah. I turned just as I saw him. You know—out of the corner of my eye. I sort of ducked, but he hit me. Hit me with a pipe. It happened real fast.”

  “I saw him, too,” said Noylene. “I saw him right through the window. He hit Wormy and then run off. I ran outside, but he was gone.”

  “Listen, Wormy,” I said. “You’ve got to go to the hospital to get checked. You might have a concussion. Noylene, can you take him over to the emergency room?”

  “Sure.”

  “C’mon then. We’ll help you get him into the car. Then Nancy and I have to run.”

  We helped Wormy stand up and walked him outside to Noylene’s car. Nancy opened the passenger door, and Dave and I sat Wormy on the cracked vinyl seat and fastened his seatbelt. Then we heard a shot, and all our heads swung around and our eyes focused in the same direction. The courthouse.

  Dave, Nancy and I left Wormy with Noylene, ran across the park and up the courthouse steps. The front doors were open, but they generally stayed open until dark during the summer, even though the offices were closed. Coming down the steps to meet us was Hannah, the pistol-packing grandma.

  “I got him! I got him!” she cheered.

  “Got who?” I asked, knowing the answer, even before I posed the question.

  “I got that dang gorilla, that’s who! I’m gonna be rich!”

  “Where is he?” I said.

  “Inside. I was dropping off my check to the gas company, and there he was. I pulled out my roscoe and let him have it.”

  “Your roscoe?” said Nancy.

  “You know,” said Hannah. “My heater. My rod.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I know. Now where’s the gorilla?”

  “Inside. He went in the door to the clock tower, but I peeked in and there he was. So I shot him.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “Well,” said Hannah. “He was holding up a pair of pants.” She suddenly looked puzzled. “That’s seems strange, doesn’t it?”

  “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s go see.”

  * * *

  We followed Hannah as she led us inside and showed us the door to the bell tower.

  “I’ve been up there before,” she said. “A couple of times. Our senior group took a tour of the courthouse a few years ago. Usually it’s locked, but I saw the gorilla go in. So I tried the door and there he was.”

  I slowly opened the door and saw him lying on the floor by the narrow steps leading up to the clock, a moaning sound coming from his mouth. Nancy and I were bending over him in a second. I bent down, and lifted his head off the floor. Then Nancy grabbed the hair on the top of his head and pulled. The mask came off.

  “Where are you hit?” I asked.

  “My head.”

  “Well, you were lucky,” I said, looking at his wound. The bullet just grazed your scalp. You’ll need some stitches, but you’ll be fine.

  “I didn’t think anyone was around. The square was empty.”

  Dave and Hannah joined us in the small alcove.

  “You mean I shot you?” said Hannah. “Oh dear. Oh dear me. I was aiming for the gorilla. I’m so sorry!”

  “That’s okay,” Nancy said. “No harm done.”

  “What do you mean, no harm done,” spat the man. “She shot me in the head!”

  “You shouldn’t have been running around in a gorilla suit,” I said. “We were just on our way over to your house to arrest you anyway.”

  Chapter 26

  I pulled out my heater and waited for Carpy’s Tommy gun to run out of slugs. I didn’t have to wait long. I heard the tell-tale “click” of the hammer on an empty chamber and jumped up like a Lutheran at a snake revival.

  “Freeze,” I said, pointing my .38 at Carpy. Then Moby Mel got my attention. Moby Mel was a whale of a man and the bazooka looked small in his flippers--small like a toy bazooka, or maybe a miniature bazooka developed by elves so that the Keebler Republic could defend itself. I grabbed Marilyn, slung her across my back and dove behind the fish-freezer like Ben and Jerry on prom night at Harvey Milk High School.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” sang Moby,

  his voice, the beautiful and timeless song of the Humpback.

  “Blow it out your blowhole!” I called back.

  “Say goodbye, Flatfoot,” sang Moby.

  We closed our eyes and waited for the explosion. It never happened. Instead, we heard a grunt, then another grunt; the same, yet different, the first grunt being whale-like and the second grunt being more of a carpish grunt--followed by the Zen-like sound of one fin flopping. Marilyn and I peeked over the top of the freezer.

  There they were--Carpy Deeum and Moby Mel, laid out

  like a couple of Episcopal handbell players at a Christmas party with an open bar. They both had harpoons sticking out of them and standing in the doorway was Cleamon “Codfish” Downs.

  “Hey there, Codfish,” I said. “We’re glad to see you. But I thought that Toby Taps dropped a piano on your head.”

  “Nah,” said Codfish. “He missed me by two octaves.”

  * * *

  “You didn’t wreck my car did you?” asked Meg, when she answered the phone at my cabin.

  “Nope. Listen, can you put Moosey and Kokomo in the back of the truck, throw the tarp over them, and drive them down to the Slab?”

  “Sure,” said Meg. “They’re in the den, but, quite frankly, that ape scares the daylights out of me. One night’s stay in the Hayden Konig Monkey House is enough.”

  “How’s Baxter doing?”

  “He hasn’t barked at all since last night. He and Kokomo are getting along just fine.”

  “It’s been a busy morning,” I said. “We got the arrest warrant, Nancy and Dave went over and served it, and the judge rescinded the warrant on Kokomo. I don’t want to take any chances, though. Those hunters don’t have any way of knowing that his death sentence has been lifted.”

  “Why are we bringing him to the Slab?”

  “Penny Pelicane and Kent are on their way over from Boone. She’ll take him back to the biology department, put him in the motor home, and take him on back to Maryland.”

  “Can Mom come over and meet Kokomo before he goes back?”

  “Absolutely. Tell her to meet us.”

  “So,” asked Meg, “whom did you arrest?”

  “I’ll explain it all when you get here,” I said.

  “Don’t you dare hold out on me! Who did it?”

  “Oh no,” I said. “It’s a surprise. In fact, I have two surprises for you.”

  * * *

  The Slab Café was full. It was noon on Friday, and there was the walk-in crowd, several hunters taking a break for lunch and the usual customers. Pete had reserved us the big table in the back. Noylene had been commandeered to help with the waitressing chores, and Pauli Girl McCollough, who had taken Collette’s place, was serving coffee.

  Nancy and Dave were waiting outside for Meg to arrive. I sat at the table with Billy and Elaine Hixon and Pete. Ruby and Gaylen Weatherall walked in at the same time, and I waved them both over to our table.

  “Have a seat,” I said. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  The two women smiled and sat down.

  “It certainly is,” said Ruby.

  “Absolutely,” agreed Gaylen. “I must say, by the way, that y’all certainly know how to put on a funeral in St. Germaine.”

  “We do, don’t we?” said Billy. “By the way, Wormy was so pleased with the entire thing, he gave me four free plots. Me and Elaine are now looking forward to our interment. You and Meg want the other two? We’d be neighbors. We got into the No-Smoking Section.”

  “You bet!” I said. “Wormy Acres, here we come!”

  “Wormy was pleased?” asked Gaylen, incredulously.


  “Why, hell yes! He’s gotten over seven hundred phone calls just since yesterday. And ESPN is going to air the service again tomorrow night. He was released from the hospital, by the way.”

  “The hospital?” said Gaylen. “Why was he in the hospital?”

  “Well, he was beaten in the head by a gorilla,” said Noylene. “But the doctor says he’s fine. No concussion.”

  The bell on the front door jangled, and we looked over to see Dr. Pelicane and Kent Murphee come in. They spotted us right away and came over to the table.

  “Is Kokomo all right?” asked Dr. Pelicane.

  “Kokomo’s fine,” I said. “And you have Moosey to thank for it. He’s the one who snuck into the animal shelter and let him go. Then he kept Kokomo up in the mountains until we could clear him.”

  “Moosey should have brought Kokomo to me,” said Dr. Pelicane angrily. “I could have taken him back to Maryland.”

  “No,” said Kent, gently taking her hand. “The university would have had to destroy him.”

  Dr. Pelicane bit her lip. “I guess. One thing’s for sure. We’re not coming back here again!”

  We heard the bell jangle again, and this time, gasps erupted from all the tables. Dave and Nancy came in first. Behind them was Moosey, holding one of Kokomo’s hands. Bringing up the rear and holding the gorilla’s other hand, was a very nervous Meg.

  I saw the four hunters that had stopped for lunch jump to their feet. They didn’t have their rifles with them, and they couldn’t get to the door with the gorilla blocking the path.

  “Take it easy boys,” I said, showing them my badge. “The hunt is over. There’s no reward, and anyone who shoots this gorilla is going to jail for a long time.”

  “Who says?” challenged the largest man, a big guy with a four-day beard wearing an orange hunting vest.

  “This document right here,” I said. I held up Judge Minton’s order rescinding the warrant on Kokomo. The large man took it from me, read it over and handed it back.

  “That’s it then boys,” he said to his companions. “We’re done here. Let’s finish up our lunch and head on back to Virginia.” He looked Kokomo up and down. “I guess it would have been a shame to shoot that animal anyway.”

  Dr. Pelicane had been waiting nervously at the table, waiting to see what the hunters would do. Now, she leapt to her feet and ran over to Kokomo. Kokomo saw her coming, vocalized a greeting, and wrapped her in his arms like any long-lost son greeting his mother.

  “You’ve had quite an adventure,” said Dr. Pelicane. Kokomo just grunted. Then she turned to Moosey. “Young man, I want to thank you. You saved Kokomo’s life.”

  Moosey looked down at his ratty tennis shoes and blushed. “Twarn’t nothin’,” he said softly.

  “Three cheers for Moosey,” called Pete from the table. “Hip Hip…”

  “Hooray!” yelled the crowd at the Slab. “Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray!”

  Moosey didn’t say anything—just grabbed Kokomo with outstretched arms and hid his face in the gorilla’s hairy chest.

  “Come over and sit down,” I said to the group. “And we’ll tell you what happened.”

  * * *

  “It was a slam-dunk,” said Nancy. “Just like Jillian said. When we arrested him and showed him the DNA evidence, he confessed to the whole thing.”

  “Who?” asked Meg. “Who did you arrest?”

  “I believe you mean whom,” I said. “Whom did you arrest? You forget that I am a writer and a grammararian.”

  “Grrrr,” growled Meg.

  “We arrested Bennett Shipley, the head deacon at New Fellowship Baptist Church,” said Nancy. “He got shot in the head, but the bullet just grazed him. We took him down to the Watauga Medical Center. He just needed a couple of stitches and a bandage.”

  “You shot him?” asked Meg.

  “No,” I said. “If Nancy shot him, he’d be dead. Hannah shot him. He dressed up like a gorilla and hit Wormy with a pipe, but Hannah saw him go into the courthouse. She followed him and shot him.”

  “Why’d he do that?” asked Pete.

  “He was getting desperate. He thought that if a few people saw the gorilla hitting people with a pipe, they’d never believe, no matter what Kokomo said, that he didn’t kill Brother Kilroy.”

  “So, it was Bennett Shipley in the Piggly Wiggly? Not Kokomo?”

  “Right,” I said. “No one got a real good look at him. The gorilla suit wasn’t perfect, but if you only caught a glimpse of it, it’d fool you—especially if you knew a gorillas was running around loose. He also didn’t expect the checkout girls to be armed to the teeth.”

  “He’s now in the county jail,” said Dave. “Once we presented him with the evidence, he confessed.”

  “He was having an affair with the church secretary,” said Nancy. “Bootsie Watkins. But he says it was over and done with.”

  “So?” said Pete.

  “So,” continued Nancy, “as head deacon, Shipley had to go to confession every week. He finally confessed the affair to Brother Kilroy, told him it was over, and that he wanted to be forgiven. Brother Kilroy said ‘fine,’ but that he’d have to confess to the congregation as well, and he’d be removed as head deacon.”

  “And then his wife would know,” said Pete. “Now I see.”

  Nancy nodded. “But Shipley pretended to go along.”

  I took up the narrative. “He knew that Brother Kilroy was going to bring Kokomo over to get baptized. He even arranged to help him when he got to the church. He went into the bathroom with Kilroy and Kokomo, but when they were in the water, Shipley hit Kilroy in the head with the pipe. Then he broke his neck and hid the pipe in the piano. He had no idea that Kokomo would trash the office and break the piano in half.”

  “We’re with you so far,” said Elaine. “But how did Bennett Shipley lock the office from the inside and then get out?”

  “Easy,” I said. “He didn’t.”

  “Huh?” said Pete.

  “When Nancy and Bootsie and I got to Kilroy’s office that morning, Bennett Shipley was already there, pounding on the door. The door was locked. I told Nancy to shoot the lock off, but before she could do it, Shipley smashed the window of the door with a hymnal. A carefully placed hymnal.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Gaylen. “Why was the hymnal carefully placed?”

  “He needed something handy to smash the window with. Something that was common enough that it wouldn’t draw any attention,” I said. “He broke the window with the hymnal, reached inside, told us that the key was still in the lock, unlocked the door, and we went in.”

  “I get it!” exclaimed Meg. “The key was never in the lock!”

  “Exactly. The key was always in Bennett Shipley’s hand. And the reason the miniature Bible key fob had been removed, was that it made the key too difficult to hide.”

  “So Shipley was just waiting for witnesses to arrive before he ‘broke in’ to the office,” said Pete.

  “Not only witnesses,” I said. “Police witnesses.”

  “What about Kokomo?” asked Meg. “He kept saying the Tiger Man did it.”

  “His hair,” Nancy said. “Shipley has dark brown hair with a white stripe running through it. Kokomo was telling us about the stripe.” She shrugged. “At least we think he was.”

  “Shipley’s also the one who put the bounty on Kokomo’s head,” added Billy. “I guess that when he found out Kokomo could talk, he didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “That’s quite a story,” said Dr. Pelicane. “I never should have let Kokomo out of my sight. I won’t do it again.”

  “Well,” said Noylene, who had been standing against the back wall listening to the tale. “It’s a shame that things went so wrong. The good thing is that Brother Kilroy is with Jesus and that Mr. Shipley’s sins, no matter how grievous, can be forgiven. All he’s got to do is ask.”

  “I’m sure that if they meet in heaven, they’ll h
ave a lot to talk about,” said Ruby.

  “Yeah,” said Noylene. “And maybe they’ll walk on over and say ‘hello’ to Kokomo. He’ll be there, too. Y’all don’t forget. He’s done been saved.”

  * * *

  Dr. P.A. Pelicane and Kent Murphee took Kokomo out to Kent’s SUV, and after a goodbye hug to Moosey, Kokomo climbed into the back and they drove off. We all stood outside the Slab and waved goodbye until the truck was out of sight. Then we walked back into the restaurant.

  “How’s your Communion Fish venture going?” I asked Pete, as we made our way back to our table.

  “We already have orders from eight hundred churches. They’re small orders,” Pete acknowledged, “but once they taste them, we’re going to be home free.”

  “I actually like the Communion Fish,” said Gaylen. “I don’t know why we can’t use them.”

  “Hurrah!” said Pete. “My fortune is made! We’ve been endorsed by the priest who officiated at Junior Jameson’s funeral!”

  “I have another surprise,” I said. “I was on the Bulwer-Lytton website this morning.”

  “The results are posted?” said Ruby.

  “Yes. Yes they are.”

  “Did one of us win?” asked Elaine.

  “Yes. Yes, one of us did.”

  “It wasn’t you, was it?” asked Meg, disgust clouding her voice.

  “Yes. Yes it was.”

  Chapter 27

  It was Saturday morning and I picked Moosey up at five a.m. Five a.m. comes early, but we were determined that Old Spiney would be seeing his last sunrise, and we’d be there to share it with him. It was dark as we parked the pick-up and walked down the path toward the dock.

  “I’ve got a surprise,” I whispered, lighting up a cigar, and puffing away in the early morning. “There’s no way he’s getting loose this time.”

 

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