Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “I’ve seen guys hurt a lot worse than this, and they didn’t make half the racket,” Alec replied disapprovingly.

  “What, because they were unconscious? Or DEAD?” Allen groaned, and writhed some more.

  “Prison is not going to agree with you,” Alec predicted.

  Allen wailed some more.

  “How did you get in here?” Alec demanded.

  “Window,” Allen groaned.

  “You broke in before Claire got home, or after?” Alec wanted to know.

  “Before,” Allen gasped out, then wailed some more.

  Claire flew back into the room, several skeins of yarn, a roll of fabric, and a pair of scissors in her arms.

  “I don’t know if there are any bandages, but this will work, won’t it?” she asked.

  “It’ll do,” Alec replied.

  “Wait, we need gloves,” Claire exclaimed. She dropped her armload of sewing implements, and disappeared through the doorway again.

  She was back right away, with a pair of dishwashing gloves. She started to put them on, but Alec stopped her.

  “I’ll trade you,” he said. He handed her the gun, she handed him the gloves, and he knelt beside Allen. Alec gave him a stern look. “Be still, or this could get a lot worse.”

  Allen muttered under his breath, but he kept writhing to a minimum. Alec slit the sleeve of his pullover, to reveal a gash along his forearm.

  It could be a lot worse. If Claire had more time to practice, it would’ve been. Or, maybe not. She got the job done, without inflicting serious injury. Maybe it was intentional.

  Alec cut the fabric into strips, and wrapped the injury. Allen protested when Alec forced his hands behind his back, and mummified his wrists with the yarn. He wrapped his ankles for good measure, then stripped off the gloves. He joined Claire on the other side of the small room. She kept the pistol in her hands, and her eyes on her would-be robber.

  “We need to call the FBI,” Alec said again.

  “No!” Allen said sharply. “Look, you’ve got to let me out of here! You call the FBI, it’s the same as pulling that trigger again, and shooting me in the head!”

  “I don’t have my phone,” Claire realized.

  “I know. We’ll use mine,” Alec replied.

  “No! Did you not hear what I said?” Allen snapped anxiously.

  Claire’s eyes flashed.

  “Any danger you’re in, is self-imposed,” she said shortly. “Don’t expect any sympathy.”

  “Look, I need that clock,” Allen countered urgently. “It’s not just the clock, there’s valuable research material concealed inside. If it gets into the wrong hands—You have no idea how devastating it’ll be. And it’ll be on your heads. I won’t be responsible for what happens as a result.”

  “Why?” Claire retorted. “Because you say so? You can wipe the self-righteous look off your face, because it won’t get you anywhere, Allen Parker.”

  His eyes widened, and he stared in astonishment.

  “That’s right, Allen Parker,” Alec said. “We know who you are. We know what you’ve done. We know the difference between right and wrong. And, we know two FBI agents who are very anxious to catch up with you and deliver the arrest warrant that has your name on it.”

  “What—but no, look, I need that clock!” Allen insisted desperately.

  “Why?” Claire snapped.

  “Because I have to get what’s inside it, back to who it belongs to!”

  “Variant Research?” Alec asked, and Claire raised an eyebrow. Allen looked surprised again.

  “Well—yes, fine, but there’s someone else who needs to see it first.”

  “Right. So they can profit from work they had no part in,” Claire replied scornfully. “How can you sell other people’s research, and live with yourself? Do you have any idea the damage you do to this country’s economy? How would you like to spend your life inventing something, and then have it snatched out from under you? How would you like to see a criminal profit and get the credit, instead?”

  “No, but it’s not like that,” Allen disagreed. “No one’s going to pull the rug out from under Variant. This guy isn’t interested in developing the drug Variant researchers are working on. He doesn’t care about that, at all.”

  “You expect us to believe that,” Alec said flatly.

  “It’s the truth!” Allen declared.

  “And you’ve been so full of that, of course we should trust you,” Claire rolled her eyes.

  “He’s developing something completely different, I don’t know what for sure, but it isn’t that. Variant’s research can be used as a springboard, and save his researchers years of needless work and delay.”

  “Then he can go to Variant, and ask for it,” Alec said with finality. “This guy’s a criminal, or he wouldn’t resort to stealing to get what he wants. He wouldn’t threaten your life, either.”

  Allen paled, and looked sick.

  “I’m calling,” Alec said firmly. He took his phone out of his pocket and selected a contact. He stepped aside, but kept his eyes on Allen.

  Claire watched their prisoner grimly.

  “You’ve got a better chance with them, than you do the other guy,” she pointed out.

  Allen shook his head, and looked tired.

  “No. He’ll find me even faster.”

  “Cooperate with the FBI. If this guy’s convicted, he’ll have something to worry about besides paying back grudges.”

  Allen looked at her sharply.

  “How—how do you—who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m smart enough not to give out my name to intruders who don’t already know it,” she retorted.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head impatiently. “I know who you are, but—who are you with? Not FBI, or you wouldn’t be calling. So who are you? How do you know all this?”

  “There were plenty of clues. It wasn’t that hard to piece together. It’s not that hard to conclude that your best chance is to cooperate with law enforcement, either.”

  “They can’t help me,” he replied with finality.

  “Can you help them?” Claire countered. “Do something right, for once. Do something that isn’t self-serving.”

  Allen grimaced, but otherwise, made no reply.

  “You say it’s all over for you,” Claire persisted. “You say that this guy will find you, and pay you back for not delivering. Do you believe in God?”

  Allen glanced at her sharply, then looked away.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Either figure it out and make a decision while you still can, or wait, and find out after it’s too late,” Claire warned him. He didn’t look receptive, but… “Have you heard anything your brother’s tried to tell you? Or do you need a refresher course?”

  Allen looked at her in surprise, then shrugged.

  “I heard him.”

  “Then you know God, the Creator of the universe, is holy. Sin entered into the perfect world He created, when people rebelled against the one rule God gave, the rule that would’ve kept us safe. His plan is always for our good, but all of us have rebelled and decided we know better than He does. None of us have the life He intended for us, because we’ve all chosen something else. We’ve all sinned. The penalty of sin is death, and separation from God. Maybe that hits home for you, since you’re sure what you’ve done is going to cost you your life. That’s the case for all of us, really. God is just, and that penalty had to be paid. There was no getting around it. God is also merciful, and He loves us. And so, His son, Jesus—Are you listening? You better be, this is important. Colossians one, nineteen through twenty says, ‘For God in all His fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and through Him, God reconciled everything to Himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ’s blood on the cross. This includes you who were once far away from God. You were His enemies, separated from Him by your evil thoughts and actions. Yet now He has reconciled you to Himself through the death of Ch
rist in His physical body. As a result, He has brought you into His own presence, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before Him without a single fault. But you must continue to believe this truth and stand firmly in it. Don’t drift away from the assurance you received when you heard the Good News.’ This, is the Good News; Jesus is God’s own son, and He paid the penalty of pain, suffering, separation from His Father, and death, that we owed. He didn’t owe it Himself, that’s why He was able to pay for our debt with His life. Not only that, He beat death by taking up His life again, as hundreds of prophecies, over thousands of years, said that He would. Jesus did this, because He loves God, and They love us. And now we have a choice. Romans ten, nine and ten, ‘If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by openly declaring your faith that you are saved.’ We can choose to believe Jesus is the Son of God, place our faith in Him and live abundant lives expressing our love for Him, and gratitude for what He’s done, which includes eternal life with Him, rather than death… or we can refuse, and insist on paying our own debt. So think hard on that, Allen. You’re not real happy at the thought of paying for what you’ve done. You may think your sin isn’t all that bad, but whether you believe it or not, the penalty is still death. You want a way out. You tried to get your brother to compromise what he knows is right, to save your own skin. That’s absolutely horrible, by the way! But Jesus paid the price for that, and everything else you’ve ever done. You don’t have to be held to account for any of it… unless you don’t believe it, don’t appreciate it, don’t love Him for it, and want no part in it.”

  Allen’s gaze was intently focused on the edge of the rug. Claire couldn’t tell what, if any, effect her words had on him.

  “Agent Slade and Agent Rogers are on the way,” Alec said, as he rejoined Claire. In the distance, they heard sirens rapidly growing closer. “It’ll take them about thirty minutes, but it sounds like the police are already here. I didn’t take the time to lock the backdoor behind me, so I told them to let themselves in.”

  On the other side of the open closet and sitting room doorways, flashing red and blue lights played across the bedroom and its contents. The wail of sirens were silenced one by one, and car doors slammed. The squawk of a radio filtered in through the shattered bedroom window, along with the faint breeze.

  Claire suddenly felt exhausted.

  “How are you doing?” Alec asked, putting his arm around her.

  “Tired,” she said, leaning against his shoulder.

  The stairs creaked, and he glanced toward the open doorways.

  “We’re in here,” Alec called to the officers.

  Soon Officer Andrews and Officer Simpson joined them, along with a couple of others. Claire gladly handed over her pistol, and she and Alec left Allen Parker in their capable hands. They followed the stairs to the downstairs sitting room, as two paramedics entered through the front door.

  “They’re upstairs,” Alec directed them. “Down the hall, on the left.”

  The men nodded, and their footsteps faded as they climbed.

  Alec led Claire to the sofa, and they had a seat. She started to sink against him, then changed her mind. She turned and gave him a good look.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asked with concern. “All the crashing, and—I was so scared when I heard the gun go off! I knew you were in there…”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her. “I may have a few bruises in the morning, but nothing serious.”

  “It makes me sick, the thought of what could’ve happened,” she said shakily. Alec hugged her, and she clutched the front of his white, button-down shirt. It bore no bloodstains, which she found immensely comforting.

  “Me too. What did happen?” he wondered.

  “I saw you walking toward your house with your suitcase, when I heard the stairs creak. I grabbed a glass box off my nightstand, and threw it at Allen, and kept throwing things, until he fired his gun. He told me he wanted the clock. I told him to go through the backdoor of the closet, and get it. I didn’t know if he would or not, but if he did, I planned to make a run for it. If he didn’t, I’d go for the colt mustang you gave me. I knew I could get to it before he could figure out I was in my walk-in, and find me. Then I heard all the crashing, and you said don’t shoot… I would’ve, otherwise.”

  “I know. That’s why I said it.”

  “How did you get here so fast? I saw you walking to your house,” she remembered.

  “I heard your phone. I turned around and went back to the garage to look for it, and that’s when I heard the gun go off, and your window shatter. I’ve never been in such a hurry to get inside a house, in my life.”

  “I’m glad I told you to keep the extra key,” she said with feeling.

  “So am I. When I opened the door, I heard your voice, and Allen’s. I knew you were upstairs and that you weren’t the one that pulled the trigger. So I continued to listen, as I went up as quietly as I could. I understood what you planned to do, so… I hit the lights, jumped on him, and warned you not to shoot into the dark.”

  “I feel sick at what could’ve happened,” she shuddered.

  “So do I,” he admitted. “But your phone did alert, I did hear it and came back, and got to you faster than I would have if I heard the gunshot from inside my house. I got to you at just the right moment, and you didn’t shoot—me, anyway.”

  “I’ve never moved so fast in my life,” she said, the memory draining the color from her cheeks. “I didn’t have time to aim, or anything. Not really.”

  “You saved my life,” Alec replied. “To say ‘thank you,’ seems inadequate.”

  “I saved you for myself, as much as I did for you,” Claire answered, hugging him tightly. “If I lost you… I couldn’t stand it.”

  “Good,” he smiled, and she couldn’t help laughing a little.

  “Well, I couldn’t,” she declared.

  “I’m glad. If you can’t stand to lose me, you aren’t likely to do it on purpose.”

  “Oh good grief,” she rolled her eyes, and kissed him. She also squeezed him so tight, he winced. “You can quit worrying about getting lost. I’m never letting you go.”

  “Work will be a challenge, but I can live with that,” he smiled, and so did she.

  Officer Andrews joined them, and they gave their statements. Agent Slade and Agent Rogers arrived as they were finishing up. Agent Slade went upstairs to deal with Allen Parker, and Agent Rogers took notes as Alec and Claire recounted the events of the evening a second time.

  “How likely is Allen Parker to end up the target of the guy he was working for?” Claire wondered.

  Agent Rogers took his time considering that, then shrugged slightly.

  “I would say that anything is possible, but not all things are probable.”

  “That doesn’t tell me any more than I already knew,” Claire pointed out, as she raised an eyebrow. Agent Rogers smiled a little.

  “I don’t suppose it does. I can’t answer your question. No one can. Off the record, I will say that in my opinion, the man has more important things to worry about. Mr. Parker doesn’t need to know that.”

  “He’ll be more likely to cooperate,” Alec concluded.

  “Exactly,” Agent Rogers agreed.

  Alec and Claire glanced through the doorway into the entryway, at the sound of voices on their way down the stairs.

  Two officers escorted Allen Parker, who was now handcuffed, rather than yarn-wrapped. Allen kept his eyes on his feet as they descended. Agent Slade followed, along with the EMTs.

  The officers, Allen Parker, and the EMTs, exited through the front door. Agent Slade joined Alec, Claire, and Agent Rogers in the living room. In spite of the extremely early hour, he looked decidedly cheerful.

  “Congratulations, Miss Davis,” Agent Slade smiled. “You not only solved this case and located the stolen goods,
you apprehended the suspect.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, Variant Research offered a reward for his apprehension,” Agent Rogers added. He didn’t look as though there was any question about it.

  “I didn’t exactly track him down,” Claire replied. “He showed up in my house.”

  “You caught him,” Alec disagreed. “Don’t argue.”

  “Fine,” Claire laughed a little. “But you deserve equal credit for all of it. Don’t argue. And… maybe this will cover repairing the bullet holes in my house. There are three of them, I guess. Plus the window he broke, to get inside the house.”

  Agent Rogers and Agent Slade looked a little surprised.

  “She hasn’t checked her email,” Alec explained.

  They looked as though that explained it all. To them, it did.

  “What?” Claire wondered.

  “Check your email, Miss Davis,” Agent Rogers said, as he stood and joined Agent Slade by the doorway. “I believe you’ll find you can afford a whole new house, and then some.”

  Claire stared from one agent to the other, in shock.

  “What?”

  The agents smiled in response.

  “Have a good evening… or a good morning,” Agent Slade replied, with a glance at the living room window, and the rising sun.

  “You too,” Alec said, as he and Claire stood and walked them out. Two police cars were parked in front, and so was the ambulance and the agency vehicle. “How likely is she to end up with someone else at her house? Or the museum?”

  “If that happens, it isn’t likely to be related to this case,” Agent Rogers replied, and Agent Slade nodded in agreement.

  “It’s highly unlikely. There’s nothing to be gained by it.”

  “Good, that’s just what I wanted to hear,” Claire said emphatically. She and Alec stopped on the front porch, and the agents continued down the front steps.

  Agent Rogers turned back, reached inside his coat, then offered Claire his card.

  “As I said before, Miss Davis… you should consider a career with the Bureau.”

  With a smile, the agents followed the walkway to the street. Agent Slade joined the EMT, a police officer, and Allen Parker inside the ambulance, and Agent Rogers took his place in the unmarked car.