by Donald Wells
Chris stood up.
“I want to go talk to him; maybe he knows something that can help us.”
Velma grabbed her purse. “I’ll come with you.”
“Hey you two, listen up,” The old man said.
They both turned and looked at him with attentive gazes.
“If you run into Mira Asher, don’t let on that we’re on to her. Let her think that she’s gotten away with it, right up until the time Tommy here slaps the bracelets on her.”
Chris and Velma nodded in agreement, and then off they went to see Sammy.
***
They left the building and began walking to the parking garage that was half a block away, as they entered, Chris stopped talking in mid-sentence and leaned against the wall.
“Whoa, I think you should drive; I’m still a little dizzy from that whack on the head.”
Velma stood close to him, concern clouding her face.
“Maybe you left the hospital too soon?”
“I’ll be fine; the doctor said that this might happen, but that it would soon pass.”
“It scared me, seeing you lying on the floor, bleeding,”
Chris stared at her. She was blonde, blue-eyed and stunning, and every time he looked at her, he felt a tug at his heart. He reached over and took her in his arms.
“I still feel a little dizzy, maybe you should hold me up.”
They gazed at each other, and a moment later, they were kissing. It lasted only a few seconds before Velma ended it.
She left his arms and sent him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.”
“Why not? Are you seeing someone... someone I know?”
“Someone you... no, it’s not that, it’s... Chris, I’m married.”
“Married?”
“Yes, and there are complications, but I still love him and I—can we discuss this later?”
He handed her the keys to the car.
“Whatever you say, but I’d like to meet him; I’m sure we all would. Have him stop by the office sometime.”
At those words, Velma sent him a stricken look, and Chris realized that there was more to the story, much more than Velma was willing to share.
They spent the ride to Mira’s apartment house with the radio playing and no words spoken.
***
Sammy Kaye opened his door with a big smile on his face as he stared at Chris, but when Velma stepped out from behind him, his smile faded.
“Oh darn, and here I thought that you had come here on pleasure, but since she’s with you, I guess it’s business, you’re playing detective, no?”
“That’s right Sammy, and we’re hoping you can help.”
“Well, let’s not stand here in the doorway like savages when I’ve got a perfectly good living room.”
They entered the apartment and saw a blue, leather sectional sofa, along with a matching recliner and a glass coffee table. In a corner of the room was a desk with a computer and a huge monitor, in an opposite corner was the TV.
“Would you two like coffee? I don’t have any made, but it won’t take long.” Sammy said.
They declined his offer of coffee, and then asked him if he had ever known Reuben Smith to be violent.
“Reuben? No, in fact, he was much nicer than Mira, but what’s this about? She did kill him in self-defense, right?”
Velma nodded. “As far as we know, yes, but we’re just trying to tie up some lose ends.”
“Such as?”
“Well, what about Gary Rollins? He was Reuben’s best friend according to Mira.”
“True, but what Reuben didn’t know is that he was also pretty friendly with Mira, that is, when Reuben was at work.”
“Mira and Gary Rollins were lovers?” Velma said.
“I never caught them in the act, but he spent a lot of time over there when Reuben wasn’t home.”
“Maybe that’s why they were getting divorced; maybe Reuben found out about them.”
“It could be; I know I haven’t seen him around lately.”
“I saw Gary and Reuben together yesterday; and there didn’t seem to be any love lost between them. What’s Gary do for a living?”
“He’s a lawyer,”
“You wouldn’t happen to know where he lives, would you?”
Sammy smiled and pointed toward the floor.
“Fifth floor, apartment 5-H,”
***
Gary Rollins opened his door and stared at them.
“Is this about Reuben?”
“Yes,” Chris said, while taking Rollins’ measure. Like his recently deceased best friend, Reuben, Gary Rollins looked to be in exceptional condition. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and his biceps bulged with his slightest movement.
Rollins squinted at them. “Are you two cops?”
“We’re private detectives; Mira Asher hired us to protect her from Reuben.”
“Someone should have protected him from her, no?”
“You don’t sound as if you like Mira much.”
“I always told Reuben that she was a bitch, and now she’s killed him. I think she only married him in the first place because she knew that someday he’d inherit his father’s business, Reuben’s dad was already sick when they met, and to make things worse, she made him go deep into debt to buy that dress shop for her.”
“If you disliked her so much then why were you sleeping with her?” Velma said.
Gary Rollins looked surprised by her knowledge, but then he shrugged.
“She threw herself at me, more than once, and well, you’ve seen her. What man wouldn’t want to sleep with her? But now I know she did it just to end my friendship with Reuben, but the bitch miscalculated, Reuben didn’t just end our friendship, he also ended his marriage, or would have.”
Velma smiled at him. “May we come in?”
“No. Anything else?”
“Yes,” Chris said. “Your upstairs neighbor, Sammy, how do you feel about him?”
“He’s too damn nosy for his own good.” Rollins said, and a moment later, he slammed the door shut.
***
On the ride back to the office, Chris and Velma discussed what they learned.
“Sammy was right about Mira and Rollins being lovers, but his hatred for Mira also seemed genuine.” Velma said.
“Do you think he could be Mira’s partner?”
“Maybe, or maybe there’s someone else that we haven’t come across yet.”
Velma’s phone rang and she answered it; it was Jake with news.
“Tommy got the lab reports back on those guns. The one that Mira killed her husband with had a trace of blood on it. On a hunch, he checked it against the men Reuben supposedly mugged, and there’s a match. Granddad thinks that she meant to plant that one on her husband, but got confused. The cops are headed over there now to bring her in for questioning.”
“That’s good news, maybe she’ll give up her partner in order to make a deal.”
Velma ended the call and soon they were back at Caliber. When they entered the office, they heard the news.
“Mira won’t be making any deals,” Jake said.
Chris looked at him. “Why not?”
“She’s dead, when the cops went to her dress shop; they found her dead of an overdose of sleeping pills with a suicide note typed out on her laptop, in the note, she says that she can’t live knowing that she murdered someone, even if it was in self-defense.”
“That still doesn’t explain what drove Smith to rush to the apartment that night.” Chris said.
“The cops think that was also Mira, although they haven’t found the phone. They think she called and taunted him with the fact that she was going on another date, and that Smith snapped, rushed to the apartment, hit you, and then attacked her.”
“But there’s no way she could have made that call.” Chris said. “I was with her when you said he received it, and she never made a call.”
“Tommy said
his captain thinks you’re mistaken about that and that she must have called him without you noticing. As far as the cops are concerned, this case is closed.”
Chris walked over to his grandfather.
“I know that I’m new at this, but I was with her the whole time, and I swear that she never made a call.”
“Everybody screws up sometime kid, let it go.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“It doesn’t matter, the case is closed.”
“It’s not closed! Mira never made that call. That means she had a partner, and I’m going to prove it.”
And with those words, Chris stalked out of the office.
Velma looked over at the old man.
“Mr. Caliber, I believe him. If he says he never took his eyes off her, then I believe him.”
Jake and the old man broke out in laughter and Velma looked back and forth at them.
“You believe him too? Then, why the pretense?”
“We had to see if he’s got it.” Jake said.
“Got what?”
“What’s our company motto?”
Velma smiled, as she finally understood.
“Caliber Detective Agency—We Never Give Up!”
The old man rose from his chair and stared out the window. Down on the street; Chris hailed a cab and went in search of answers.
The old man took a puff on his cigar and nodded his head.
“That’s my boy,”
CALIBER DETECTIVE AGENCY – CASE FILE #6
Dallas, Texas, 1884
They could hear the sound of the fighting before they reached the edge of the city. Gunshots rang out from so many directions that it seemed as if everyone was shooting at once.
As they entered the city, Jake and Sheriff Carter stopped their horses and helped their women to the ground.
“You gals go over to the schoolhouse there and lay low; when the fightin’s over, we’ll come back for you.” The sheriff said.
Both Eva and his wife voiced their protests at being left behind, but Jake and the sheriff were already galloping toward the fighting.
***
As they approached the jail, the gunfire ended, however, the dead seemed to be everywhere. There were more than a dozen men with black hoods on their heads lying in the street along with the bodies of several deputies and an innocent young woman, who must have gotten caught in the gun battle.
Dead horses littered the landscape, undoubtedly shot by the deputies, in a bid to keep the bandits from galloping off after they wrecked their mayhem.
Jake rode about the bodies, checking for signs of life, but the deputies’ faces were pale and only dead eyes stared out from the holes cut into the bandits’ hoods.
The sheriff had ridden over toward the bank, which was at the other end of the street. There were a number of men inside, as well as a number of bodies, he rode back to Jake and told him what he saw.
A deputy emerged from the jail, limping; it was the one with the deep-set eyes named Harrow. He was bleeding from the right shoulder and his arm dangled uselessly at his side.
“Sheriff! Sheriff, they broke Clayton out and then went over to the bank. We tried to fight them off, but we was outnumbered.”
“How many men are left?” Jake said.
Harrow looked as if he wanted to cry.
“We’re it.”
“I counted six milling around in the bank there,” The sheriff said. “And one of them was Bo Clayton.”
A shout came from the bank. It was Clayton.
“We got you outnumbered sheriff. Everyone get back inside the jail and let us walk over to the stables, and we’ll ride out of here and let you live, or I swear, I’ll help you meet your maker.”
Harrow grabbed the sheriff by the arm.
“Take the deal. There’s no ammo left except what we got in our guns and my gun hand is useless. It’s suicide to try and stop them.”
The sheriff looked over at Jake.
“How many shots you got in that fancy gun of yours?”
“Twelve,”
Next, the sheriff plucked Harrow’s gun from his holster.
“You’ve done your part, Jim, now go take cover,”
Harrow sent the sheriff a look of astonishment.
“You’re standin’ your ground? That’s crazy!”
“Crazy or not, I’m the law here; and look what they done to our city. They ain’t leavin’ here without a fight, no sir!”
Harrow gave him a look of incredulity and then limped back toward the jail.
The sheriff stared at Jake.
“Follow him son, get yourself to cover,”
“You can’t fight them alone.”
“And I can’t ask you to join me. Harrow was right, there’s too many of them.”
“I ain’t lettin’ you do it alone, sheriff,”
The sheriff smiled at him.
“You’re a good boy Jake, alright then, here’s what we’ll do, we’ll—look out!”
Jake spun around to where the sheriff pointed, gun at the ready and saw... nothing.
He turned back around to ask Carter what had alarmed him, and the sheriff hit him twice and knocked him to the ground. By the time he regained his senses, the sheriff was charging into the bank with both guns blazing.
His shots were answered with a loud volley, and then the day grew deathly silent.
A voice whispered nearby, “Oh no, Bobby,”
Jake was still on the ground, but he spun around on his hands and knees and found the source of the voice. It was the sheriff’s wife, she was standing by the door of the jail, and Eva was beside her.
Jake gestured for them to get inside, even as Deputy Harrow came out and grabbed them both about the waist with his left arm, to urge them into the jail.
As she reached the doorway, Eva pointed down the street.
“They’re coming,”
A moment later, and Harrow pushed them inside and a moment after that, Jake heard the sound of the door locking.
There was a dead bandit lying nearby, and Jake reached for the corpse’s weapon, in a bid to increase his firepower, but then an idea came to him, and he saw how he just might live to see another day.
***
He lay on his back, watching them approach slowly, guns in hand. There were six of them. They strode boldly down the street with no hoods on. Bo Clayton was among them, along with two men that looked enough like him to be his brothers.
Jake had taken the black hood off the dead bandit and placed it over his own head, now he laid still, eyes opened and unblinking as the men shuffled along the dusty street.
They walked towards him, then around, and finally past him, and as the last man shuffled away, he allowed himself the luxury of blinking against the dust swirled up by their steps.
But then, they stopped, and in the next instant, he heard Clayton speak.
“No sense in doin’ things halfway, let’s storm the jail there and finish this,”
The other five men murmured their agreement and then all six of them headed toward the jail, the jail where Eva was.
Jake rose silently from the ground and ripped off the hood.
“Calyton!”
Clayton and his men spun around to stare at Jake. Jake was dusty from the ground, and his hair was mussed from the hood, but his young face wore a look of determination.
Clayton seemed unimpressed, because he pointed at Jake and laughed.
“Well, if it ain’t the dude with the strong punch. Run along sonny, or we’ll give you what the sheriff got.”
Jake craned his neck.
“I’m gonna kill you Clayton; I’m gonna kill all of you.”
“Maybe you can’t count boy, it’s six to one, and hell, your gun’s still in your holster.”
“On three!” Jake said.
Clayton sent the man standing beside him a look of confusion, even as Jake began counting off.
“One!”
Clayton shook his head. “Dude’s loco,”
“Two!”
Clayton’s men dropped the canvas sacks full of money they had stolen from the bank, as their grips grew tighter on their guns.
“Three!”
Six guns rose, their barrels aiming at Jake, as his hand flew to his holster, then six fingers began tightening on six triggers, as six bullets flew from Jake’s gun, and six men fell dead at his feet.
The good citizens of Dallas, some tucked away safely inside, peeking from windows, a few, hidden beneath the wooden sidewalks, others, lying flat atop roofs, trembling in their fear.
These are the people that witnessed the birth of a legend, and to their last breath, they would claim that it was the most amazing thing they ever saw.
The door of the jail leaped open and Eva stepped around the dead men, and flew into Jake’s arms, as tears of both joy and fear rolled down her cheeks.
They were soon joined by dozens of their fellows, and in the weeks and months that followed, the name, Jake Caliber, would become known across the land; a name that to this very day, is still a legend.
***
New York City, Present day
“Someone here to see you, Lou,”
Lieutenant Thomas Delaney looked up from his desk and saw Officer Shea O’Reilly standing in his doorway, behind her stood Chris Caliber. O’Reilly was five-two, a hundred and twenty pounds with short dark hair and a dark complexion; when she spoke, her voice was pure Brooklyn.
O’Reilly was chewing gum, and she made a loud popping noise with it, as she tossed a thumb back at Chris.
“The kid here claims to be a Caliber, but I thought that they were all nine feet tall and wore red capes.”
Chris smiled. “You’re thinking of my grandfather, and he’s ten feet tall.”
O’Reilly turned around and sent him a grin.
“You’re a Caliber all right, you’ve got the wise mouth, and hey, when you see your brother, tell him that I’m still waiting for that call.”
“What call?”
“He’ll know what I mean. Now stop wasting my time and go in and visit the Lou, see ya around.”
Chris watched O’Reilly walk off and thought that the gun on her uniform-clad hip looked too big for her; he then looked over at Delaney.
“She’s cute.”
“She’d eat you alive.”