Calling Card Capers

by Dan Kelly

  “No one at the hospital will make a comment because the FBI told them to make none.”

  I proceed to fill them in on what happened after which Shirley says, “Chet, you were lucky you weren’t blinded or worse. How’s Janet doing?”

  “She’ll be fine. She’ll probably be stopping by here tomorrow when she’s released from the hospital for a telephone brainstorming session with Don Ericson. We’ve got to come up with some new ideas.”

  Shirley says, “When the Crusader reads Janet’s account of what happened at Walter Reed this morning, I’ll bet he’s going to flip out in a big way when he finds out the President survived. Maybe he’ll do something really stupid and it’ll be game, set and match.”

  “It doesn’t cost anything to hope, but I’m not going to hold my breath. We believe he’s willing to take greater risks to kill the President, but I don’t think he’s going to do anything to make his capture a slam dunk.”

  Bob chimes in with, “Since you two are in a sports metaphor mood, I think it’s going to take a three cushion bank shot to sink this eight ball in the corner pocket. As desperate as this screwball is, he’s just too smart to do something to make it a six inch shot into the side pocket. It‘s going to take something clever like you tried to pull off this morning to end this game.”

  “If you’ve got any ideas, I’d like to hear them.”

  “Alright, take a seat, sit back, try to relax and I’ll expound.”

  I head for my desk, the others gather around and Bob sallies forth. Hey, fox hunting is a sport in England and why not stay with the sports metaphors? It’ll help keep me in a competitive mood instead of slipping into a funk over our failure to score a victory earlier today. Hey, way to go Dawson.

  “Aldrich wasn’t always a killer. He was a loving family man and there is every indication that his morals and ethics were above reproach. It took a tragedy to turn this man into a one man vigilante posse bent on the annihilation of his perceived enemies. He had to love his son a lot; he has to be experiencing a lot of deep down hurt to evolve into what he has become today. The ability to have these kinds of feelings doesn’t necessarily cease to exist just because you react violently to a situation.

  “I’ve been trying to get inside this guy’s head to get an insight on how he might react in different scenarios. One idea crossed my mind that I think is worth considering. If Aldrich learned that his wife was under intense investigation for complicity in his killings and that the authorities feel that the issuance of an arrest warrant is imminent, how do you think Aldrich would react to that?”

  Thoughts of sports metaphors have evaporated as Bob now has our undivided attention.

  “That’s a rhetorical question. I think I have the answer. I believe his love for his wife hasn’t dwindled one iota even though he knows she doesn’t agree with his taking the law into his own hands. At first, I think he’ll make every effort to communicate with the authorities that she has played no part in his vendetta. When the authorities refuse to be convinced that she’s innocent of any wrongdoing, I think he’ll start thinking of ways to prevent her from being arrested. If the authorities make an offer of leniency for the wife if Aldrich agrees to cease with the killings and surrenders to the authorities, there’s a good possibility that he’ll try to contact her by phone or email to let her know that he won’t comply with the authorities’ request, but he won’t let them arrest her, that he’ll find a way to prevent that.

  “I think there’s a better than even chance that he’ll try to persuade her to clandestinely meet with him so that they can flee somewhere he thinks they will be safe. I’m assuming the tap on the wife’s phone is still in place. If not, it can be reinstalled. That way the authorities will know first- hand what he’s planning if he phones her. The authorities can also tie in to her computer if email is used to contact her. A tail can be put in place on the wife when she goes to meet him and when they meet up the good guys can move in and arrest him. Of course, his wife will have to agree to go along with this, but she was willing to let you put a tap on her phone before so she probably will agree to play her part.”

  There’s no immediate reaction from any of us as we’re all deep in thought about the viability of what he’s suggesting.

  After weighing what I see to be the pros and cons, I conclude that it has a decent chance of working and say so. Felicity and Shirley hop on board shortly thereafter. I say, “After the failure of our brilliant idea this morning, I don’t know how willing the FBI will be to get involved in another off the wall idea. I like it, but I have my doubts about how amenable Don and company will be. I’ll run it by Don and Janet tomorrow. Okay everybody, back to work and putting some money in my bank account.”

  I spend the rest of the day attending to much more mundane issues compared to the Crusader and his lust for blood, but they’ve been paying the bills month after month and it hurts my wallet big time when I’m remiss in addressing them which I’ve been a lot lately.

  Chapter 31

  When I leave for work the next morning, it’s pouring rain and there are gale force winds. I can barely see twenty-five feet ahead of me because the windshield wipers can’t work fast enough to keep the windshield clear, so I’m crawling along listening to the news. Janet’s story has been picked up by the radio station and probably the other news programs on radio and TV have picked it up as well.

  It takes me almost twice as long to get into the office than it normally does because the traffic is all snarled up, but I forget all about the frustrating traffic when I do arrive and see Janet sitting at my desk. “How did you get here before me, swim? That traffic is a nightmare.”

  “The doctor made early rounds this morning and I was sent on my way before seven. It was only drizzling when I left the hospital and it didn’t start to come down hard until I was almost here. I even stopped off at my apartment on the way to change my clothes as the ones I wore yesterday were a mess.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “My scalp is sore, but the doctor gave me something for the headache and it quickly took effect. I’m hungry because I didn’t wait for the breakfast cart to come around at the hospital, but other than that I’m feeling pretty good.”

  “I’ll have Felicity get something for you to eat from the cafeteria next door. They serve breakfast from seven until ten in the morning and it’s only a little past nine now. How about some scrambled eggs, juice, toast and some hot coffee?”

  “That would be great. When are you going to call Don?”

  “As soon as you have some food in your belly and I have my second cup of coffee. Scoot around here to one of these visitors’ chairs while I ask Felicity to fetch you some food.”

  When I return, I tell her about Bob’s idea and that I plan to run it by Don as well this morning. “I think it has a fair chance of working and so do Shirley and Felicity. How about you? Would you give it a thumb up or a thumb down? What’s that reporter’s intuition sensing?”

  “Trying to profile a whacko like Aldrich is like trying to beat the odds in Vegas because he isn’t thinking logically all of the time. He’s becoming more capricious, motivated more by emotion than logic, so it’s hard to predict what he might do in any given situation no less the one Bob has suggested.

  “Having said this, unless we can come up with something better the only other option is to sit on our hands and wait for him to screw up badly enough to give us a chance to put an end to his rampage and that’s a long shot to say the least. If after we put our heads together we come up with zilch, I say let’s give Bob’s idea a whirl.”

  “Okay then, after you have eaten, we’ll see if Don has any brilliant ideas that we can consider or build upon. If he or we can’t come up with anything that’s better than Bob’s idea, we will have to sell Don on Bob’s idea.”

  Five minutes later Felicity returns with some breakfast for Janet and I head for our break room for a couple of cups of coffee.

  About 45 minutes later we call Don an
d he’s in a more upbeat mood than I thought he would be. ‘Morning, Don. I have you on the speaker. Janet’s with me and we’re ready to give synergism a chance to shine. The way you answered the phone gives me the impression you’re having a pretty good morning.”

  “When I got into work this morning I was expecting to be called into Piedmont’s office for a royal butt chewing for the disaster at Walter Reed yesterday, but although he is in his office he has his door closed and no one’s heard a peep out of him all morning. My admin was talking with a friend of hers in Human Resources and she said that Piedmont’s been transferred to Tulsa, OK effective at the end of the month. Apparently, he’s stepped on the wrong person’s toes.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to hang in there because sooner or later Mr. Personality was going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person?”

  “That you did and his transfer couldn’t come too soon as far as I’m concerned. The lady friend in Human Resources hasn’t heard any scuttlebutt about who might be his replacement, but I think it’s highly unlikely that the replacement will be as self-absorbed as Piedmont and therefore should be an improvement.”

  “Okay, let’s start rattling our brains to come up with something else to drive this madman into our waiting arms. In my opinion, we’ve got to stay on the offensive if we’re to have even a glimmer of hope to net this guy. Have any brilliant ideas popped into your noggin? So far, Janet’s and my brain are as barren of new ideas as Death Valley is of fresh water.”

  “I agree with you about staying on the offensive, but it can’t be a scatter gun approach. That would just be a waste of time and resources. We’ve got to come up with something that will enable us to zero in on him with certainty. We’ve got to figure out a way to manipulate his behavior so he’ll react the way we want him to.”

  This strikes me as the ideal time to present Bob’s idea, so I lay it out for him and then wait for his reaction. Initially, the only reaction we get is, “This sounds like something Ian Fleming would dream up for one of his 007 flicks.” followed by a long stretch of silence. Janet and I patiently wait for him to mull it over while sipping on some fresh hot coffee Felicity brought over to us.

  Finally he says, “Well, I’ve always been a big fan of Ian Fleming and always wondered if his schemes would work in real life. This would be a perfect time to find out. My mind’s also a blank page as far as new ways to go after this guy. Let me flesh Bob’s out a little, work on finding someone who knows how to access someone else’s email and determining who’s permission I now need to proceed with something like this. Since I assume I’m not supposed to know about Piedmont’s transfer, I guess I’ll have to present the idea to him first which should be an interesting experience. The tap is still on the wife’s phone, so we won’t have to do anything there. I’ll try to get back to you later today if I make any headway.”

  “Okay, Don, and try not to smile when you’re talking with Piedmont.”

  Laughing, he hangs up and Janet stands up. “Are you going in to work today? You still look a little under the weather.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’ll go batty sitting home watching some inane TV program. Call me later when you’re through for the day. Some of Morey’s cooking would be the ideal medication for a recovering head case.”

  Chuckling I say, “It will be done. Drive carefully. It doesn’t look like that rain has let up one bit.”

  “Bye.”

  As I watch her leave the office, I realize that I’m going to be worrying about her well-being from now on. Worrying like that about anyone outside my immediate family is a new experience for me and I’m surprised that I kind of like it.

  The rest of my day is uneventful and I haven’t heard from Don, so around five-thirty I call Janet to see if she still wants to go to Morey’s for dinner. “I’ve been salivating for the past two hours. I’ll meet you there.”

  When I get to Morey’s, the parking lot is full and I have to drive around the block a couple of times before a parking space on the street becomes available. The heavy rain that’s been pounding the streets for most of the day has now lightened to a steady drizzle, but it’s still not an evening Gene Kelly would want to dance and sing in. The temperature has got to be in the fifties.

  As usual I don’t have an umbrella with me, so I have to make a mad dash for Morey’s which is a block away, seeking the cover of awnings and other overhangs to try to stay reasonably dry. When I reach the doorway to Morey’s, Sadie’s there holding the door open for customers who are ahead of me. When she sees me she says, “Janet beat you. She’s in the Reardon Room.”

  “The Reardon Room?”

  “It’s kind of classy, huh? I figure if you got it flaunt it.”

  Sadie turns away to welcome an elderly couple, so she doesn’t see me shaking my head over her persistence in trying to create her version of a 1940s dinner club. I head for the ‘Reardon Room’ and find Janet sitting at a table so close to the piano that we’ll almost be sitting in Reardon’s lap. More of Sadie’s cupid doings I’ll bet.

  “You look none the worse for wear. How’s the head doing?”

  “No headache, but my scalp is starting to itch like a poison ivy rash where they stitched me up.”

  “Well, maybe a splendid glass of wine, a fabulous meal and some exquisite after dinner brandy, all accompanied by some beautiful sounds from Sadie’s new music man will take your mind off the urge to scratch.”

  “Oh my, you’re in fine fettle this evening. Have you somehow gotten a head start on the wine or brandy?”

  Since I’m on an apparent run I smile and say, “Hardly. It is my anticipation of spending an evening with you my dear.”

  This cracks her up and she soon forgets about her itch. It turns out to be a wonderful evening and not once does the Crusader come up in our conversation. Sadie minds her Ps and Qs and Ray introduces a new medley of songs into his act which add a pleasant aura to the entire experience.

  Around nine-thirty, I pay our bill and we head for the door. The rain has stopped, but the wind is blowing as hard as it has all day. Janet parked in the lot, so I walk her to her car. When we get to her car, it’s as Yogi Berra would say déjà vu all over again. A shot rings out and the driver’s window of her car shatters. Without really thinking, I push Janet down behind the car parked alongside of hers, pull my gun and look for someone to shoot. It’s got to be Aldrich and he miscalculated the effect of the wind on his shot and that’s why neither one of us was hit.

  Looking around for our bodyguards, I see no one. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a bodyguard all day. The back door of Morey’s flies open and I almost shoot Morey who has come out to see what has happened. Seeing me and Janet he asks, “Are you two alright? I heard a shot and the sound of glass shattering through that open window in the kitchen.”

  I say, “We’re okay. Someone took a shot at us and missed. Get back inside where it’s safe and call the police. I don’t know if the shooter is still around, but let’s not take any chances. Take Janet with you. I’ll take a look around.”

  Looking at me incredulously she says, “You’re as crazy as the nut that shot at us. Who made you bullet proof? He’s got a rifle. You’ve got a pistol. Get your butt inside with us. I don’t look good in black.”

  Thinking about what she’s said for maybe a nanosecond, I change my mind and get my butt inside.

  While Morey is calling the locals, I call Ericson. He answers right away and from his caller ID he knows it’s me. “Dawson, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

  “Janet and I are at Morey’s. I turned my cell off because I wanted to spend a normal evening without getting a phone call about another Crusader execution. Instead Janet and I almost became his next victims minutes ago. That’s why I’m calling you now.

  “There’s no sign of one of his calling cards anywhere near where we were standing when he took a shot at us, but it was him. He’s the only person I know who Janet and I have pissed off
enough to want to make us permanent residents of the local graveyard. There are no signs of the bodyguards that have been watching our backs since the meeting we had in Piedmont’s office weeks ago either. If they’re still on duty, they must have been waylaid by Aldrich before he took his shot at us and their bodies have been hidden somewhere. If they’ve been taken off bodyguard duty, it would have been nice if somebody told us about it.”