“That was the good detective. He said to hang loose for a few minutes. He’ll be back.”
“What’s up?”
“He didn’t say.”
Joe looked at him, as if in disbelief of the entire situation. “Maybe you’re right, Ginger. Maybe it is related to the others.”
“Apparently something is going on. When did your grandmother move from that house?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in years, but I was under the impression she hadn’t lived there for over a year. Why?”
“Hang on,” he said. Ginger walked full circle around the bar and retreated to the back. Joe looked at Drummer and shrugged, as if he was totally in the dark.
Ginger returned with three phone books. “These are old phone books. Let’s see if her name is in one.”
He gave one to Joe. “What’s her last name?”
“Cooper, I suppose.” Joe quickly thumbed through and found Cooper, 408 S. Clyde. He hadn’t looked at her name in many years. “I found it!”
“It’s in this one too. Check the new one.”
Joe did so but found nothing.
“So what does this prove?”
“Maybe nothing. Probably nothing, but…”
“But what?”
“… maybe there was an accomplice. He saw you and was afraid you saw him. He looked in an old phone book and somehow came to the conclusion you lived there. Then he paid you a little visit.”
“That’s really farfetched.”
Rick walked in, just in time to grasp the gist of the conversation. “Perhaps not. I think our bad guy left his gun by accident. While smothering the old woman, the man awakened. A quick bullet to the head sent him back to sleep. The gun was put down while he finished the pillow bit. Afterward he fled, forgetting about the gun.”
“No robbery?”
“Doesn’t appear so. Looks like some greasy chicken was taken from a skillet. The counter and floor had bits of cold grease scattered about.”
“Not much of a motive,” said Ginger. “Chicken couldn’t have been that good.”
Joe secretly agreed. The thought of the greasy chicken sent tremors through his body.
“The lab will check for prints on the gun. We’ll find out tomorrow. Probably clean, though.”
“Have a beer and settle down, Rick. You’ve been reading too much Sherlock Holmes.” Ginger handed him a beer. “Where’s your shadow and the reporter?”
“Dave went to the station to start preliminary paperwork. Davis is right behind me.”
“What does he think about your idea?”
“I don’t discuss my ongoing investigations with the press.”
“His idea, huh?”
“Hell, yes. Think I would come up with something that farfetched?”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You had the same idea.” Joe looked at Ginger.
“Yeah, but I was just fishing. It doesn’t stand up too well.”
“Then what’s the motive?”
“Hey, I’m a bartender, not a damn detective.”
“And not a very good bartender at that.”
“That’s true.” Ginger laughed.
Drummer nodded in agreement, chuckling. “Hey, old man, you’re so wise, you come up with some answers.”
“That’s what I pay Mr. Rick to do.”
“That settles it! Detective Hopkins, go arrest the killer or we’re cutting your salary.”
“After this week, I probably won’t have a salary.”
“All kidding aside,” Ginger paused, “our friend, the reporter, and the rest of the media are going to have a field day with you serve-and-protect boys.”
“And all the concerned citizens—and even worse, the politicians.”
“Oooh, election year. Everybody and their dogs will be running for office. Mayor, city council, and needless to say, your boss.”
Yeah, he’ll be real happy. Give me another beer.”
“Let me get that, Ginger,” said Joe. “Our crime chaser could use a little help.”
“I appreciate that, Joe.”
“I only have one question,” Joe stated.
“What’s that?”
“Are we still going hunting on Saturday?”
“Absolutely! Right, Ginger?”
“Sure thing!”
“Well, I don’t have a shotgun and the way this week is going, I’m not going to be able to buy one.”
“Not to worry, we’ll borrow one from Marjorie.”
Joe and Ginger looked at each other and smiled. Then they started to laugh. Joe felt a camaraderie he had never felt before.
“Perhaps I had better ask for it. You might not like the way she gives it to you.”
More laughter; even Drummer chuckled. Matt looked up to see what he was missing. “Maybe I should join you guys.”
“Stay where you are. This is official police business.”
“Oh, brother. Just bring me a beer.”
“Mike, you and Steve ready?” he called to some regulars.
“Yeah, bring a round, Ginger.”
Ginger busied himself opening beer. The door opened, letting in a few more regulars, followed by Dot. Matt looked up and smiled. “Hey, honey, I enjoyed last night.”
“Yeah, then you enjoyed it without me,” Dot shot back.
“Baby, we’re among friends. You can tell the truth. They won’t think less of you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure!”
“Okay, I took Matt home with me last night, but he couldn’t get it up, so I threw him out.”
Matt lowered his reddened face but managed a smile to counteract the laughter from the bar.
Even the detective work stopped for a few laughs at someone else’s expense.
Dot smiled at everyone and approached the bar, where she glared at Ginger. “What? It’s still my day off. I can do what I want.”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Do what you need to on your day off. Wash clothes, clean house, or have some more wine.”
“You’re real funny, boss. I want some coffee and then I’m going to the grocery store.”
“I’m sure you are. Let me get you some coffee, honey.”
Dot looked at a snickering Drummer. “You shut up.”
“I’m sorry, Dotty. But you look in pain, child.”
“I’m okay.”
“You want some medicine?”
“Oh please, Drummer! I feel terrible,” she burst forth. “Please make me feel better.”
Drummer patted her small white hand with his long black fingers. “Don’t worry, child, old Drummer will fix you right up.” He released her hand and set off to his pharmacy. “I’ll be right back.”
Matt wandered over and hugged Dot. “I’m sorry you feel so badly.”
“It’s my own fault.” She put her arms around Matt’s waist.
“Don’t worry, Drummer’s cure-all will make you feel a lot better.”
Matt continued to console Dot. The boys at the bar returned to their own conversation.
The phone rang. “Yeah… yeah… sure thing… bye.”
“Everyone stay put. Junior Detective Dave is on his way to talk to Daddy.”
The door opened, and Davis Wilson walked in hurriedly.
Ginger continued his sarcasm. “Who is it this time, Geraldo or Mike Wallace?”
“Well, it’s not Baba Wawa,” Joe added.
“God, you’re worse than Ginger,” Davis defended.
“Sorry, Davis,” Joe apologized. It was the first time he had referred to the local anchorman by his first name. “All of this has got me goofy.”
“I can definitely understand that. I don’t know what to make of it myself.”
“Miller Lite?” asked Ginger.
“Please!”
“Did you get any film?” Hopkins asked.
“Yeah, just of the location, mostly the front of the house. I made the usual statements, added the concerned bit and assured viewers of exc
lusive interviews to follow. Then got the hell away from the rest of the media. They can be so pushy, wanting to know what I have, whom I’ve talked to. I told them to get their own story. I swear, sometimes the press can be such a pain in the ass.”
As Davis Wilson finished his statement, he was greeted with a round of applause from the bar. “I deny anything I’ve said.”
Everybody returned to their drinks for a moment, each trying to think of something to sustain the conversation.
“Davis, I have to ask you something before I go nuts.”
“You’re entitled, Joe.”
“I’ve been dodging the press so far, not you, but the rest. With everything that’s happening, I don’t see how I can escape all of them. How am I supposed to function this next week? I have to work, but I can’t have the media following me to customers’ homes.”
“I see your predicament. But the media is going to be in pursuit of you. This is big news. Everybody will want a piece of you.”
“What do you think I should do? I have only one place to hide out and that’s subject to discovery.”
“What do you think, Rick?” asked Davis.
“Maybe we’re overreacting a bit, but the media will be around and there’s no hiding from them. You still have your life and responsibilities.” Rick paused. “I would suggest you move from the motel and stay elsewhere, at least for a few days. Then, after preliminary statements to the press and promises to be in touch with the legal aspect, I would suggest, if possible, doing a few jobs out of town.”
Davis looked at Joe. “Is that possible?”
“I can try.”
“Let’s see what happens tomorrow, then meet back here around six.”
“That’s fine with me, and to ease your mind, Rick, I will not make any moves without your approval.”
“In that case, Joe, I suggest you try and keep any personal interviews directed in Davis’ direction. But don’t get me wrong, now, you’ll have to answer to the rest of the media. The more personal the interview, the more I would trust Davis over the rest. He’ll help keep your privacy, where the others may not be able to.”
“Thanks, Rick, I appreciate your confidence.”
Joe looked at Rick and Davis, then with curiosity he asked for Ginger’s opinion.
“Don’t look at me, hero. I’d take the first boat to Singapore.”
“Hell, I don’t know what to do.”
The back door opened and closed, and Dave walked through the back to the front with confidence and security of his mission. He stepped into the bar area and demanded everyone’s attention.
“We took the prints off the gun.” He waited.
“And?” demanded Hopkins.
“Pretty clean, except for one set of prints.”
Joe Cooper felt his stomach drop to his knees. He couldn’t withhold his question. “Whose?”
Everybody else was in unison, even Drummer.
“Brown’s.”
“Brown’s?” Hopkins needed confirmation.
“Brown’s?” Ginger needed confirmation about whom they were talking.
“Brown’s?” Davis was curious.
“Brown’s?” Joe Cooper pretended to be confused.
Dave tried to clarify. “I had a strange feeling and checked the fingerprints with Brown’s. They matched.”
Everybody hesitated, then looked slowly at each other, unable to offer any answers, but looking to the others for an answer of some kind.
Rick took a leadership stance. “There was an accomplice.”
Joe pretended emotional doubt. “That’s what Ginger said, but that’s impossible. I was there. There was no one else there.” He looked around for confirmation.
Hopkins said, “Maybe no one else at the liquor store, but perhaps at the Worthy’s.”
Ginger considered his own statements. He had not truly believed them, nor did he now. Perhaps, in a strange act of fate, they were true, and the entire situation was being summed up as they all spoke. But his initial feelings returned. Something was wrong with all these assumptions, and Ginger knew that for sure, but he would play along until he understood his own train of thought.
“You’ve lost me,” confessed Joe with an appropriate lie. “Brown is dead. How could he have killed the old couple?”
Davis Wilson filled in the gaps.
“Someone knew Brown’s movements, even if they were not personally involved with the actual murder. Then, fearing Joe could identify them, they began to seek him out.”
“Wait a minute, Davis! I agree that could possibly be true, but it’s only a hypothesis and to reveal this to the public could impair our investigation,” Rick stated.
“Don’t worry, Rick, I’m just playing amateur detective. I’m not spilling my guts. I have too much to gain if I’m patient and play ball.”
“You’re right, Davis. I appreciate your candor, and I promise I’ll let you know as much as I can without jeopardizing my own ass.”
Ginger had an impulse. “What about Joe? Maybe somebody’s trying to keep him permanently quiet.”
“Ginger is right,” agreed Davis.
“We need to keep Joe under wraps, not only for us, but for his own welfare, as well. Don’t forget, he’s the only living witness.”
“That’s comforting,” said Joe.
“Sorry, Joe, you could be in danger. But let’s not jump to conclusions right away.”
“Sarge, I think we should pay a visit to Brown’s family. See if they know anything about the gun, get some names of his friends,” Dave suggested.
“That sounds too much like police work and totally too logical to work,” said Hopkins.
“Humor him, Old Master Detective,” Ginger joked.
“Okay, Dave, let’s go make with the questions. It’s still early enough.”
Dave smiled with good humor and the two started for the door. Rick called back to Joe. “The keys are in the truck. Call me tonight at home.”
“And don’t worry. Everything is probably easily explained,” comforted Dave.
“I appreciate that, detective.”
“Give me another Miller Lite and I’m going home myself,” Davis said.
“I’m going now. I’m getting drunk and I need to sleep for about a week.” Joe threw down a ten on the bar and was soon on his way.
Davis Wilson looked at Ginger. “He seems a little nervous.”
“Yeah, he does. But who could blame him? What do you make of all this?”
“I think there was a partner around somewhere, either in another car or around the corner, but someplace close enough to get a good look at Joe.”
“Why didn’t Joe see him?”
“Maybe he did and just didn’t think anything about it. He had no idea what was transpiring.”
“That’s true. And if he was in a hurry to go to the restroom, he probably never looked into Brown’s vehicle.”
Davis looked up, as if struck by lightning. “Ginger, I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Brown’s partner saw Joe, and assumed Joe saw him. When there was gunfire he panicked, jumped from the car, and ran off. When he heard about what happened, he became alarmed that Joe could identify him. He broke into Joe’s old house, expecting to find him under the covers, but found someone else, who awakened long enough to be murdered.” He looked for confirmation. “Believable?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps, but how did he know Joe’s name?”
“I see your point. It hasn’t been released yet. Maybe there’s a leak at the police station.”
“You tell Rick that.”
“No, thanks.”
They both sat, trying to visualize the crime scene at the liquor store. Davis looked at Drummer, who seemed oblivious to the entire proceedings.
“What do you think, Drummer?”
“Mr. Davis, I don’t have the education you have, but if I follow your line of thinking, I can’t help but wonder if maybe this other guy you’re talking about already knew Mr. Joe.”
�
�What do you mean?”
“Maybe he knew Mr. Joe from a roofing job.”
“Never thought of that. You could very well be right.”
“I’m not saying I believe that. It’s just an idea.”
“What do you believe?”
“I’m just listening right now. I haven’t come to any conclusions.”
“You’re a cautious man, Drummer. I admire that.”
“A youth spent otherwise makes for a cautious old man.”
“Hear, hear,” Davis held up his beer in a toast.
Drummer tipped his coffee cup and vanished to the back.
“He’s quite a character, isn’t he?”
“One in a million,” agreed Ginger.
Ginger smiled shyly and gave his stool a rest. He fetched himself and Davis cold Miller Lites. “Shall we play a little nine ball?”
“By all means. This is supposed to be my day off.”
“Dot, will you mind the bar for a while?” Ginger yelled toward the shuffleboard table, where she was teamed against Matt.
“Well, I was going home to clean house, but I guess I can wait for a while.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
Ginger inserted two quarters and racked the balls for nine ball. “Tell me, Ginger, who’s the lucky woman nowadays?”
“No one you know, Davis.”
“What’s her name?”
“Beverly Hanson.”
“Never heard of her. Does Marjorie know about her?”
“I haven’t asked her.” Ginger gave him a sour look.
“I don’t imagine you have. I doubt if she would approve of anything concerning you. Now maybe sweet Judy would. She has a more forgiving nature, especially concerning you.” He laughed.
“That’s two women who should not be mentioned in the same sentence.”
“Especially where you’re concerned.”
“Especially!”
Davis broke the rack and ran a few balls before Ginger combined the nine for a win. “Good shot.”
“Thanks.”
Davis racked the balls.
“So any wedding bells in your future?”
“Not in this town.”
“Still wanting the bright lights, huh?” Ginger broke but did not make a ball.
“Brighter than the kerosene lamps of Lindville.”
“What’s kept you here four years?”
Save the Child Page 12