Calling Card Capers

by Dan Kelly

  After wolfing the delicious morsels down and playing a half dozen games of darts, winning three and losing three, I decide to head for home. When I get there I find two cop cars with their lights flashing parked in front of the building.

  When I approach to find out what’s going on, an officer sitting in one of the patrol cars gets out and asks me if I’m Chet Dawson. I say I am and he says, “You’ve had a visitor. A man was seen trying to break into your apartment by one of your neighbors about fifteen minutes ago and she called 911. When he saw her looking at him, he took off but not before he dropped this in front of your door.”

  It’s one of the Crusader’s calling cards. Aldrich must have been planning to wait for me in my apartment to put a bullet in my head when I opened the door. The FBI guy who has been watching my back pulls in behind my car, gets out and approaches us, flashing his credentials at the officer. “What’s going on here?”

  The officer tells him what he told me and looking at my bodyguard I say, “This guy has become more determined than ever to remove me and Ms. Vanderhill from the field of play in this deadly game of pursuit we’ve been playing. Please arrange to have someone posted at Ms. Vanderhill’s apartment as well as mine until Agent Ericson orders otherwise. I’m going to call him now to apprise him of what went down here tonight just in case he needs some additional persuasion. Damn, if I had gotten home fifteen minute earlier I might be headed for a slab in the morgue. This s.o.b. is really starting to tick me off.”

  Looking back at the officer I ask, “Who was the neighbor that foiled the B and E attempt?”

  Looking at his notes he says, “A Mrs. DeWitt.”

  “Thanks. Sending her some flowers and a box of candy hardly seems sufficient to thank her for saving my life, but what would be? I’ve never been in this position before. Do you guys have any suggestions?”

  This query gets me nothing but silence and some shoulder shrugs. “Never mind. I guess that‘s one of those questions that doesn’t have an adequate answer. I’ll send her the flowers and candy anyway.”

  When I get up to my apartment, Mrs. DeWitt, a delightful 73 year old widow, is standing outside of her apartment door. “I saw you talking with a policeman from the window in my living room, so you must know what happened earlier. I’m glad seeing me scared that creep off. I called 911 right away and the police were here in less than a couple of minutes.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you. You probably saved my life.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. Neighbors should look out for one another, but some flowers and candy would be nice.”

  I roar with laughter, give her a big hug and say, “Two dozen orchids and a big box of the best Swiss chocolates I can find will be at your door before sunset tomorrow.”

  She’s a little taken back by my behavior but she quickly smiles and mischievously says, “Won’t that gossipy Mrs. Halstead have a field day with her rumor spreading when she sees them at my door. Have your name placed in real big letters in the ‘From’ section on the tags so she can see it from the hallway. I’ll enjoy that almost as much as the flowers and candy. A few seconds later she’s in her apartment and through the closed door I can hear her laughing.

  Going to my door, I check it out for damage and seeing none I open it and proceed with my evening routine, tossing my coat over the back of a living room chair, turning on the TV and selecting CNN and then checking my answering machine for messages. There’s no new news on CNN, but someone left a message on my answering machine. That someone is an exasperated Crusader. “Don’t count on me giving up. Your time is going to come. I will see to it even if it’s to be the last thing I ever do.”

  Wonderful, just what I need to get a good night’s sleep, threats from a nut.

  I call Don to let him know about the sweet nothings Aldrich hissed into my answering machine, to make sure surveillance will be put into place at Janet’s and my apartment ASAP, preferably this evening, and to get a progress report on how he and Agent Millhouse made out with their assignments.

  “Chet, this guy has become a loose cannon and is liable to shoot at anybody who in his warped mind he views as an enemy. That neighbor of yours was damn lucky Aldrich didn’t take a shot at her.”

  “I know. How did you and Agent Millhouse make out today?”

  “Mrs. Aldrich reluctantly agreed to work with us as she still feels guilty about playing a part in having her husband arrested or killed. She still loves the guy, that’s quite apparent, and she wishes that we could do what we want to do without her assistance. It took a bit of persuasion, but I finally managed to convince her that without her help Hank would most likely remain free to go on killing. I explained in detail what we want her to do and cautioned her to act as normal as possible under the circumstances to avoid raising any suspicions in her husband’s mind.

  “As far Agent Millhouse’s progress is concerned that has been a mixed bag. CNN said that they couldn’t set something up for at least three days due to prior commitments and demands being made on staff by current news developments and she had the same reception from several of the local channels, but struck pay dirt with Fox News on Channel 5 who said they could make a prime time slot available tomorrow evening. The clincher for them was they would be airing new developments in a story that has been dominating the news for a long time now ahead of their competition. She hasn’t been able to make contact with the folks she needs to spread the word about the interview on Fox News yet.

  “I read the script Janet wrote and I’m convinced it will light a fire under Aldrich hot enough to get him to try to do something to protect his wife if he hears it. I’ll begin the interview on Fox by reading a prepared statement which will be what Janet wrote for me and then I’ll take questions. The only potential fly in the ointment is if Aldrich is unaware of the interview. Rumors spread fast in the world of journalism I’m told, so we may still have time for that to happen if Millhouse makes contact with her folks early tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, we’ve got to run with what we have come show time and hope for the best. Hold on a sec, Don, someone’s at my door. Pulling my Glock from my ankle holster I cautiously approach the door and peek through the peephole. I see a guy in a suit that looks like a FED and ask, “Who’s there?”

  I get a quick reply. “Agent Welford, sir, I’ve been ordered to report here for stakeout duty by Agent Ericson.”

  “Show me some ID.” He does and I open the door to let him in and say, “Just a minute. I’m on the phone with Ericson now.”

  Back on the phone with Don I say, “It was your Agent Welford letting me know he was on the job. Thanks for acting so quickly.”

  “As soon as I got word you had requested someone be posted at your and Janet’s apartment houses 24/7 because someone tried to break into your apartment, I immediately sent Welford to your apartment house and an Agent Hubbard to Janet’s. From now on, when you folks are out and about your homes will be under close scrutiny for any suspicious visitors.”

  I thank Don again, disconnect and then remember I left Agent Welford standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry guy. I forgot all about you. Please come in and make yourself at home. There’s no need for you to deal with the elements outside until I’ve left the apartment. If the Crusader is going to try anything while I’m home, having you in here means it’s two against one and that suits me just fine.”

  I show Agent Welford around the place and then he sits himself in one of my living room chairs, picks up a Sports Illustrated magazine I left on the coffee table and starts skimming through it while listening to the news commentator on the TV. I retreat to my home office which is a converted bedroom and call Janet to give her a heads up on Agent Hubbard, a rundown on the progress made by our FBI confederates and top it all off with a replay of Aldrich’s message while holding the phone close to the answering machine speaker.

  “Janet, this guy is becoming obsessed with our demise. We’ve got to stay alert for anything that might pose a threat to
us no matter how remote. Whenever possible when we’re outside we must seek the safety of crowds and not go off alone somewhere. We must be careful not to put anything in any file on our computers that will let Aldrich know what we are planning to do or what our agenda will be on any given day. It’s not a nice way to live, but the alternative is even more bleak.”

  “I hear you.”

  “How’s your headache?”

  “Unfortunately, alive and well. I’ve held off taking one of the pills the doctor gave me for them because they make me sleepy when I want to be wide awake. It’s starting to get more severe, so I think I’ll pop one and hit the sack.”

  “Okay, I’ll hang up then and let you get some rest. Let your mother know about Agent Hubbard so she’ll let him in when he shows up which should be pretty soon now.”

  “I will. Night.”

  “Night.”

  It’s now a few minutes before ten, a little early for me to be crawling under the covers, but I’m in no mood to engage in any polite conversation with Agent Welford and I’m all caught up on my work at the office, so I strip to my skivvies, grab the Baldacci novel off my dresser that I’ve been trying to finish for over a month now because I keep getting interrupted by something or someone and prop myself up for some fun reading. I must have been more tired than I realized as I wake up a little before eight the next morning with the book on the floor, my head buried under the pillows and my special cell phone ringing.

  Oh, oh. This is not a good way for me to start the day. I’ve overslept and the President is calling me before eight in the morning. He’s never called me this early before. He’s fuming over something and that could be over me not keeping him abreast of the Crusader situation. I’ve been meaning to call him with updates, but my intentions keep getting waylaid by new developments. That sounds like it might fly if that’s why he’s calling. I sleepily reach for the phone, press the button and say, “Good morning Mr. President.” and then hold my breath for the tirade which surprisingly doesn’t come. Now I’m really nervous. Something is really out of whack here and I’m now wide awake.

  “Chet, where do we stand in our attempts to put this Crusader nut where he belongs, either in the ground or in a prison cell? The only input I’ve been getting lately is what I hear on the news. Agent Ericson called me the afternoon of the Walter Reed debacle, so I know all about that and I saw the article in the Times that Vanderhill wrote about that and the attempt on your lives at that restaurant. I have a pretty good idea about what the Crusader has been up to. What I don’t know is what you and Ericson are doing about it.”

  I tell him about our latest scheme, the Crusader’s attempt to break into my apartment and the message he left on my answering machine. “Mr. President, this guy is losing it. He’s running on pure emotion and Janet and I have moved to the top of his list alongside you and he’s taking chances he never would have taken when he started his vendetta. This is why we think our latest scheme has a good chance of working.”

  “It had better work, Chet. The last thing we need is to have this guy running amok shooting anyone he pleases. Pressure is starting to build for me to get more involved and if this doesn’t work I may have no choice but to have Ericson taken off the case and be replaced by someone else. This man has killed a lot of high level people who had friends in equally high places. These friends have a lot of political muscle and they could make big trouble for my administration.

  “Something else has occurred that has me even more concerned. The Crusader has zeroed in on the First Lady. Less than fifteen minutes ago she received an email from the Crusader accusing her of knowing about the inferior quality of the weaponry being used in the Middle East and turning a deaf ear to what she was hearing and therefore she deserved to be exterminated like the rest of the human vermin. I’m used to threats on my life. It goes with the territory, but I won’t tolerate threats on members of my family. I want this bastard, Chet. He’s just made this very personal. I will do everything I can think of to corral him and put an end to his killing.” Click.

  Wishing I could clue Ericson in on what the President just said so he’ll know what’s riding on this latest tactic of ours and perhaps be able to keep the wolf approaching his door at bay and knowing that I can’t because of the nature of my relationship with the wolf, I sigh and head for the shower. Maybe things will look better after a good scrub, some breakfast and a couple cups of coffee. Probably not, but hope springs eternal. That’s something else grandma always used to say.

  Chapter 33

  Around ten in the morning, Don calls me to let me know that Agent Millhouse has managed to drop a convincing hint of the Fox News interview to her media contacts which will take place on the six o’clock news tonight.

  “This will endear her to her media contacts as well as initiate the spread of the upcoming news event throughout the journalistic world because like almost every other group of professionals they have an efficient grapevine too. Chet, I sure hope I don’t botch this up. I’m no actor. I can’t even fool my little nieces and nephews when I play Santa on Christmas Eve.”

  “You’ll do fine, Don. Think of it as pulling the wool over the eyes of Piedmont. That should add all of the believability you’ll need.” Laughing I add, “Has he come out of his office yet?”

  Laughing in reply he says, “No one has seen him. I don’t know if he even went home last night. Devious rapscallion that he is, I wouldn’t put it past him to be trying to come up with something that will save his sorry hide from being exiled from the epicenter of FBIdom.”

  “I’ll be watching you on the news tonight. Wear a blue shirt. It looks better on TV than a white one.”

  “Listen to the man. All of a sudden he’s a TV production know-it-all.”

  Laughing I say, “Hey, after watching TV for over four decades I’ve become somewhat of an expert on boob tube attire. And don’t forget to hold that tummy in. Remember you’re going to be an ambassador for the Bureau and you want to make a god impression.”

  Before he can come back at me I hang up and start to tap Janet’s number into my cell when Felicity comes over to my desk and says, “You have a visitor.”

  Looking over at her desk, I see a young carrot topped boy about thirteen or fourteen years old and I ask Felicity what he wants. “All he will say to me is that he has to talk with you.”

  I’ve never had anyone so young come through the door before and my curiosity is aroused, so I tell Felicity to bring him over. As she returns to her desk I ask, “Are you looking to hire a PI?”

  “Oh no. I couldn’t afford one if I needed one anyway. I know who you are and what you do because I heard my dad mention you once to a customer. I’m Timmy Ryder. My dad owns the luncheonette across the street and I sometimes come in to help him bus the counter and booths and do other things after school, on school holidays and weekends. I’ve seen you come in a number of times to have a sandwich, fries and a soda.”

  “Okay, so why do you want to talk with me?”

  “I want to know if the reward for information about the Crusader’s whereabouts is still on the table. I know you’re working with the FBI because I’ve seen you on TV and my dad has been reading about you in the papers, so I figured you’d know about the reward.”

  “Do you know where the Crusader is staying?”

  “Answer my question first please.”

  Pushy kid, but he’s got manners.

  “As far as I know it is. It was made by a private citizen and not the FBI, but I could find out for sure if you’ll give me some idea of the kind of information you have.”

  “You won’t try to pull a fast one and keep the reward for yourself?”

  “The reward is only being offered to private citizens. Law enforcement personnel or anyone working with them are not eligible.”

  This seems to placate his concern and he says, “We could really use the money. My kid sister needs an operation and we can’t afford the medical expense. The luncheonette is doing okay, bu
t it doesn’t bring in the kind of money it will cost to make my sister better.”