Chasing Harpo

by Alan Black

  Mbotu listened as the man on the phone gave him directions.

  “You have done well, my friends. Keep alert and do not let our prey leave. You have them cornered as a baboon corners its prey. We will have our revenge for our fallen comrades soon.”

  **

  JACK KEEGAN stood in frustration. The reports kept coming in on Smart Cars, but none turned out to be their fugitives. Time was slipping away. Marks could have gotten out of the state by now. He could have gone north to Tennessee, west to Mississippi or east to Georgia. Any direction would have worked as Birmingham was close to the center of Alabama. It was almost equidistant to everywhere else.

  Somehow, he felt that Marks had gone to ground somewhere; the man would not have left the state. He could not explain why; it just felt right.

  “Natalia, what do you think? Is Marks still in the state?”

  She looked at her watch. “He has had time to get to the Gulf of Mexico and hop a freighter to take Harpo back to Sumatra. Or he still could be hiding behind the donut shop for all I know.”

  Jack shook his head. “No. He is not back there. I looked when I went to use the restroom a while ago.”

  Natalia laughed, “You didn’t really!”

  Jack shrugged, “I know it sounds silly, but you were right earlier when you said he could be anywhere, even there. So, I looked. I know it is foolish of me, but I really want to catch those two.”

  Natalia asked, her eyes checking his face for a reaction, “Why? Promotion and glory?”

  Jack said, “Partly, yeah. It is not a crime to want to get ahead. Mostly it is because if we catch them I think that we have a better chance of taking them alive. That is why we didn’t take sleeping beauty back to the zoo, right?” He pointed at Steve asleep in the back of the cruiser.

  Natalia asked, “Okay, but which comes first: promotion or taking them alive?”

  Jack said, “You don’t give a guy a break do you?”

  She shook her head, her black hair dancing. “Did I mention that my mother is a hostage negotiator for the state prison system? She says that if I don’t get the answer that I want, I have to keep asking. And sometimes when I get the answer that I want I still have to keep asking, because sometimes, not you personally, but sometimes people lie. So, what is it going to be LT? Promotion or glory?”

  The buzzing of Jack’s cell phone saved him from answering Natalia.

  “Keegan here.”

  Porrizzo’s voice rang clear through the phone’s tiny speakers. “Jack, we have good news.”

  “I could use a little good news, sir,” Jack said. “We are bogging down in false reports on the whereabouts of Marks and the ape. We are no closer to finding him than we were a couple of hours ago.”

  Porrizzo’s voice was almost giddy. “Not to worry. Captain William’s task force has caught a break for all of us.”

  Jack replied, “How so, sir? He is working on the Rwandan gang.”

  “Yes. He has a couple of phones tapped and we managed to intercept cell transmissions. It seems the leader of the gang, a man named Mbotu, has had his people out looking for Marks and the ape.”

  Jack nodded even though Porrizzo could not see him. “Yes, sir. It was on the news about a contract put out on the pair. Are you thinking that they will take care of the ape for us?”

  “Heavens no, Jack. What we do must be done legal and above board. And with public approval. A gang style killing would only make things worse.”

  Jack agreed, but decided to let Porrizzo continue.

  “One of the calls gave the exact location of Marks and the ape. Marks has a cousin that lives on a farm up near Carbon Hill. A man named David or Donald Marks.”

  Jack tried to contain his excitement, “That is great. Give that to me and I will get a couple of cars out there to apprehend them.”

  “No,” Porrizzo said. “I haven’t told you the best part. Two of Mtobu’s men are already at the location. They are watching Marks. Mtobu and three of his lieutenants are heading out there now to be in on the kill. Himself. Personally.”

  “Sir, I don’t-”

  “You don’t have to, Jack. Williams is calling in a cadre of state troopers. He is going to surround the whole area, leaving a small opening for Mbotu to get in. Then he will close the loop and we will tighten the noose. We will catch them all in one swoop.”

  “But, Mr. Porrizzo, Marks and the ape are my responsibility.”

  “Not to worry, Jack. We are all a team here. Williams may get the clean up, but you are still on the winning team. What we discussed will still come to pass, don’t you worry. I have to go, but good work so far, Jack. I am sure we will be working closely together in the future.” The line went dead.

  Natalia said, “So what did Porrizzo offer you for killing Harpo? Sounds like you have a promotion in the works.”

  Jack replied, “You heard?”

  Natalia said, “It isn’t like cell phones are designed for privacy. That is why they tell you to shut them off in the movies. So, what kind of bribe did the man offer?”

  Jack said, “It isn’t like that. It’s…well, it’s complicated.”

  Natalia said, “Yes, LT. It always is. So, are we going to let someone else do your dirty work for you? I mean, if I was Harpo and going to be killed, I would rather have a friend do it than some stranger. Wouldn’t you?”

  Jack said, “I would rather not get shot at all if I could help it. Can you get me the location of that farm?”

  Natalia said, “Yes. You know I can.”

  “Can you get it on the move? Because Carbon Hill is a ways from here and we have got to get a move on. You hunt and peck on the computer. I’ll drive. Steve can sleep.”

  They were on the move before Natalia spoke again. “I have the location of the trap Captain Williams is setting up. It is on the dashboard GPS…now! And the ramp to 78 is your next left.”

  Jack hit the highway on-ramp doing eighty.

  “What next LT? Do we call in our own back up?” Natalia asked.

  “I don’t think that would work. Captain Williams will have enough troopers there to handle the gangsters. I do not want to mess up his plans against that group of killers, no matter what we do. More cars will only jam things up and maybe scare off this Mbotu fellow. We need to get there and see if we can get to Marks and Harpo before things get too hot.”

  “You mean before someone else get’s a chance to shoot Harpo?”

  Jack shook his head. He said, “I mean before anybody get’s shot, including me, you, Steve, Dr. Marks or Harpo. I don’t want any troopers shot either.”

  Natalia asked, “What about this Mbotu character? You want to keep him from getting shot, too?”

  Jack grinned as he gunned the cruiser around an eighteen-wheeler. “Him, not so much.”

  ELEVEN

  CARL drove the Smart Car into the gap between the hay bales. He squeezed out of the door and stepped back. High walls of hay bales surrounded the car on three sides.

  Carl said, “Ok, Spitter, we need to wall up the back side and then we are done.” He was not looking forward to even one more hay bale. He had lifted his limit. His hands were already red and his back was beginning to ache from the unusual activity. But, if Spitter was not ready to quit, then neither was he.

  “Not quite yet, Cousin Red,” Spitter said. “Dad said to hide it, so we have to really hide it. If it were me, I would have buried it in the manure pile. You might not have wanted it back afterward, but no one would look for it there.”

  Carl said, “Thank you for not doing that. I don’t have any payments left on it, so I was hoping to keep it for a while.”

  Spitter said, “Dad said to hide it in the hay barn, so that is what we gotta do. Give me a sec.”

  The boy ran out of the barn.

  Carl looked up. Harpo stared back at him.

  When Spitter came back, he was at the wheel of a four-wheeler with a small trailer hitched to the back. Balanced on the trailer was a couple of 4x8 sheets of plywood
and an old horse blanket. The boy climbed the bales and spread the blanket on the top of the car.

  “That should protect the paint,” Spitter said. He then slid the plywood on top of the car, balancing the long end on the edges of the hay bale walls. “Perfect fit. Now we can put a layer of bales on top and then finish with a couple of rows here to cover the back side and no one will be able to see this on any side; not even from above.”

  “Great. More hay bales.”

  Spitter said, “Well, ‘hide it good’ is what Dad said to do. I don’t think it matters much. People will figure out that you’ve been here, right?”

  Carl said, “Eventually, yes. But if we can sneak out of here taking your Dad’s pick up, then maybe we can get Harpo to a safe place before anyone knows we have switched vehicles.”

  Spitter said, “Well, maybe. Holy! What is that smell?”

  Carl pointed up.

  Spitter turned to see Harpo grinning at him. The orangutan squatted with his rear end hanging over the edge. A large pile of ape scat lay splattered on the barn floor, not five feet from where Spitter stood.

  Carl laughed. Harpo started laughing in his huffing grunt.

  Spitter let loose a mock gagging noise, but he ended up laughing as well. When he could talk, he asked, “He do that a lot?”

  Carl nodded and said, “He has the sense of humor of a middle school boy. Oh, sorry Spitter. I didn’t mean you.”

  Spitter said, “Yeah, that’s okay. It was funny. It would have been funnier if it happened to someone else, but yeah. And I noticed that you weren’t anywhere close to the fallout.”

  Carl said, “It doesn’t take too many times before you learn not to stand under trees.”

  Spitter looked thoughtful. He said, “You know, your job may not be as boring as I though it sounded.”

  Carl said, “If I still have a job when this is over, you come and visit. I will show you the whole works. If you think Harpo is funny, you will die of hysterics over the bonobo habitat; well maybe not. They are kind of an adult’s only exhibit, but, for now I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Spitter shook his head. He said, “No. You and Harpo sit tight. If you are going to sneak out of here, then we need to get you into the truck without being seen by those two watchmen on the road.”

  Carl said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Spitter said, “Well, Cousin Red, a little paranoia wouldn’t hurt you a bit.” The boy ran out of the barn before Carl could respond.

  Carl looked up at Harpo, “Well, you’re not really paranoid if they really are after you.”

  Harpo ignored Carl and jumped into a pile of hay.

  Carl wondered how he was going to get Harpo out of the hay barn and into another vehicle. The big orange ape wallowed around in the hay, building a nest.

  Rooster backed the old blue pick up into the barn. He put the truck in park, but kept the engine on. He nodded at the stack of hay bales. “That’ll do. I can’t see your car and I know where to look.”

  Carl held up his hands. He showed Rooster the redness and pointed at a blister starting to form. “I forgot how hard farm work can be.”

  “Tain’t easy, Couz. But, raising crops and raising kids is more rewarding than anything else I know. Now, we gotta get you two out of here.”

  Carl said, “Ok. Did you get a hold of your friend Smithson?”

  Rooster said, “I talked to Cloyd while I kept an eye on Spud and our two friends out on the road. Here, you take my cell phone. Cloyd’s number is in the listing, so you two can talk if you need to. He is going to meet you and Harpo out behind a place called Everly’s GasN’Go in Hanceville on Highway 231. He will ride with you the rest of the way into his place by a back road that ain’t on most maps.”

  “Hanceville? Didn’t you used to date Mary-”

  “Hush,” Rooster interrupted. “We don’t talk about her where Daisy May might hear. But yeah, Hanceville.”

  It was easy for Carl to remember that one summer during high school when Rooster dated a girl from Hanceville. The only way that she would go out with Rooster was if he supplied a date for her best friend. Since Carl was spending the summer on the farm, his elevation to wingman status for Rooster had been as sure a thing as Mary was reputed to have been. She was the type of country girl who had fallen into emulating the most recent pop star. Unfortunately, it was not at the pop star’s ‘like a virgin’ stage of her career. Short skirts, halter-tops and too much make up made Mary look more like a curb-crawling streetwalker than a pop star.

  Carl could not remember much more about Mary except her name and general appearance. He did remember Louise well. Louise had been Mary’s best friend, although that may have been a cover for the comfort of Mary’s parents. If anyone saw the two girls together, they would know that Louise was a good girl and would be a stabilizing influence on Mary.

  Louise dressed more like a Mennonite bride than a pop star and was about thirty pounds over weight rather than the anorexic body style popular at the time. Carl realized as he thought about Louise that she must have greatly influenced his fondness for women of other-than-skinny persuasion. The teenage girl had been unfailingly polite to her elders, taught Sunday school with a passion, volunteered at a day camp for disabled children and worked part time at some animal shelter. However, when the lights were low, she was so wild that Carl thought they were going to wear out the vinyl back seats of Uncle Geezle’s old Pontiac sedan.

  Carl dated Louise long after Rooster gave up on sex with Mary. He drove the back roads between Carbon Hill and Hanceville more times than he could remember that summer. However, Louise dumped him once school started and he moved back home to Birmingham. She was not the type of girl satisfied by a long distance relationship.

  Carl thought about Louise often over the years. There had been times he resisted the urge to look her up. Mostly, he was curious about how her life turned out. He wondered if that was true of many people when they thought about their ‘first’. Although he did not think he had been the first boy to be with Louise, but she was his first.

  He wondered (not for the first time) if the painful breakup with Louise had caused his inability, or rather his hesitancy, to approach other attractive women. He shook his head. He was more familiar with ape psychology than with human psychology, much less his own thoughts and emotions. From such a long time ago, it was difficult to know how painful it really had been or if he harbored skewed memories. He was not sure if he could separate the emotional turmoil of his breakup with Louise from the sudden cessation of sex. Like most boys, he had been unable to separate emotion from sex. He had not been able to do it then and not since, with any of the few women he had been with. He wondered if he would ever be able to separate sex from emotion.

  There were not many women over the years to cloud Carl’s memory of Louise. It was an old thought groove with him. He knew he was an attractive man, at least with a certain level of attractiveness. But, he also knew women, especially women his own age, wanted more than just attractiveness. It was true he was a nice, polite gentleman. Even so, he was not too sure how many women wanted a mate who came home smelling like orangutan poo with a salary that would embarrass most junior french fry jockeys.

  Carl smiled at the thoughts of Louise.

  Rooster ignored the smile even though he knew why it was there. He said,“You think you can find Hanceville by the back way?”

  “I think so, if we can get out of here unseen.”

  Rooster said, “If this truck was four-wheel-drive we could get out by the back pasture road, but the leaf springs on this thing won’t hold up. We have to get you out by the road. You get Harpo in the back and we will cover him up with a tarp. Then you can duck down in the front seat when we drive past your friends. I will bale out when we are out of their sight and you are off, scott-free.”

  Carl shook his head. He said, “I think scott might agree, but it won’t work. Harpo is not domesticated enough to lie down quietly and be covered up. I think he
enjoyed the ride up here in my car, but I don’t see how I can get him to ride in the back, especially covered up and hiding.”

  Harpo hooted from the loft a few times upon hearing his name.

  Carl said, “See? He agrees with me.”

  Rooster said, “Well, there isn’t room in the front seat for him and you to hunker down and not be seen while I am driving. Do you think we can get him to hide for a short while if he is in the front and you are in the back covered by a tarp? We can open the split back window and you can try to keep him hidden.”

  Carl shrugged. He said, “I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do. It is not like my voice has any magical power over him.”

  Rooster said, “Well, my voice doesn’t do that much with my teenagers either, but let’s give that a try. If you are spotted, the Axel Foley trick should slow your friends down enough for you to get away.”

  Carl said, “What about you?”

  Rooster said, “As soon as you’re in the clear, I will jump out and hike back. If we turn at the corner up by the Miller’s old place then I can cut cross-country. It isn’t all that far. These two city fellers won’t even see me. And if they do…” He patted the rifle in the seat next to him fondly. “Still, we got to go. We are out of time to look for other options, even the sheriff should have been here by now. I’ll be danged if I know why he ain’t.”

  Carl looked up at the loft, “Harpo?”

  Harpo hooted back.

  Carl said, “Do you want to go for a ride in the truck?”

  Harpo hooted back, but he did not stir from his nesting place.

  Carl looked at Rooster and he asked, “Does the radio in this thing work? Good. Turn it on. Harpo likes music. No. Not that. He likes hip-hop.”

  Rooster looked horrified. “You got to be…hip-hop?”

  Carl shrugged in resignation. “He likes it. What can I say?”

  Rooster spun the dial on the radio, finally finding a hip-hop station. He cringed at the noise.