Lady Justice and the Quirky Arlo Quimby

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Lady Justice and the Quirky Arlo Quimby Page 9

by Robert Thornhill


  “C-4 with a cell phone ignition. When the phone’s number is called, the C-4 will explode.”

  Derek shook his head. “Tomorrow night when everyone’s in the next room, the perp calls and the place goes up in smoke.”

  He turned to Pastor Bob. “Any idea who could have planted this thing?”

  Bob shook his head.

  “Any strange faces at your service yesterday?”

  “We have new people every week. I suppose one of them could have planted it during the pot luck after the service. I can’t recall anyone who stood out.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Blaylock said. “Someone will have to call the number. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll be close by to watch the fireworks. I’ll have the place surrounded.”

  After the bomb was removed, Pastor Bob pulled me aside.

  “See, Walt, you must have faith. The Lord sent someone to deliver us from evil, and today, that someone was you.”

  I wanted to remind him how close he had come to having his church blown to smithereens, but I didn’t want to rain on his parade.

  We decided not to tell the flat-earthers how close they had come to being blown off their little saucer until after the meeting was over. If the perp was watching, everything had to appear normal.

  As promised, Blaylock had officers covertly stationed around the church. Kevin and I were with Blaylock, parked a block away.

  The meeting started at six o’clock. At six-thirty, the phone that had been attached to the C-4 rang.

  “That’s it!” Blaylock said. He keyed his mike. “All units! Converge on the area. Stop and check every driver.”

  He handed the phone to his tech officer. “See if you can trace the number that called.”

  A few minutes later, the tech shook his head. “Sorry, Detective. Burner. Untraceable.”

  The officers on patrol found nothing. Derek had done everything he could do, but we still came up empty.

  At least we had prevented a horrible tragedy.

  Blocks away, Pale Rider waited for the explosion that never came.

  CHAPTER 14

  Arlo and Prentis sat open-mouthed when I told them how close they had come to being blown off their flat earth.

  “But who” Prentis asked. “Who could do such a terrible thing? And why?”

  “No idea,” I replied. “There were no prints on the casserole dish or cell phone inside. The number the perp used to trigger the bomb was from a burner, so we got nothing there.”

  “We can’t have any more meetings here,” Arlo said. “It’s not fair to Pastor Bob. We almost destroyed his church.”

  “You’re right,” Perkins replied. “We’ll have the meetings at my house.”

  “You might want to rethink that,” I said. “If we hadn’t found that bomb, every person in that meeting room would be dead. Whoever is doing this isn’t going to stop. Do you really want to endanger the lives of all your members? I think it would be prudent to suspend your meetings until we catch the perp.”

  Prentis thought for a minute. “Yes, you’re right. For now, we can meet online. I’ll set up a chat room where we can exchange ideas and information. If he wants to stop us, he’ll have to blow up the whole Internet!”

  Pale Rider was furious

  “What happened to the bomb? How could you possibly screw up something so simple?”

  “I did exactly like you told me,” Karl replied, defensively. “I put the thing in a kitchen cabinet behind a stack of dishes where it wouldn’t be seen. Nobody saw me do it. I got away clean.”

  “Then how do you explain its failure?”

  “Hey, I didn’t make the damn bomb! Maybe you screwed it up!”

  The moment Karl said those words, he regretted it. There was fire in Pale Rider’s eyes.

  “Never question me again!” Pale Rider hissed. “It wouldn’t go well for you.”

  “Okay, okay! Sorry!” Then Karl asked another stupid question. “Do I still get my five grand? I did plant the bomb.”

  He could tell from the look on Pale Rider’s face that the answer was no.

  “Okay, I understand. What’s our next move?”

  “That depends on what those fools do next. If they’re foolhardy enough to schedule another meeting. We’ll try again. We’ll wait and see.”

  Three days later, Pale Rider was at his computer with the phone to his ear.

  “Yes, sir, I see it. It looks like Prentis is posting in a chat room.”

  “Read it out loud so I’ll know you’re getting the message,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

  “Yes, sir. He’s saying, ‘The cowards have killed one of our members and planted a bomb to kill the rest of us. Thanks to the Good Lord and the K-9 unit, the bomb was found before anyone else was hurt. The question is, why are these evil forces bent on our destruction? There can only be one answer. We are close to the truth and they do not want the truth to see the light of day!’”

  “Do you see our problem?” asked the voice on the other end.

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Good! Then here’s what you do next. If you want to kill a snake, you cut off its head. This Prentis who’s been posting this garbage must be eliminated. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”

  The next day, Pale Rider met with Karl Kramer.

  “Here’s another chance to earn that five thousand,” Pale Rider said, handing another bomb to Karl. “All you have to do is determine which room Prentis is in, then attach the bomb to the exterior of the house. Go back to your car and dial the number I’ve pre-programmed into the phone.”

  He handed the phone to Karl. “It’s all set to dial. All you have to do is push send. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Piece of cake,” Karl replied. “By this time tomorrow there will be one less flat earth freak.”

  That evening, Karl pulled to the curb in front of a brick two-story on Brookside Boulevard. There were lights on in several rooms. He had to find out which one held his quarry.

  The house was built on a lot that sloped to the rear, making the first-floor windows too high to see from the ground.

  He put the cell phone in his back pocket, slipped out of his car and headed to a detached garage. He found an old wooden step ladder laying alongside.

  Perfect, he thought.

  He grabbed the ladder and carried it to the first lighted window. Climbing the ladder, he peeked inside. The room was empty.

  He climbed down and moved to the next window. Bingo! Prentis was seated at his computer. In a matter of minutes this would be over and the five grand would be his.

  Maggie and I had finished supper and were headed to the living room to catch a few of our favorite TV shows when there was a knock on the door.

  It was Arlo.

  “Walt, I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I’m really worried.”

  “About what?”

  “Oliver. Ever since the bomb threat, he’s been holed up in his house. He’s been on his computer almost 24/7. I think he’s gone off the deep end. It’s one thing to be passionate, but I think for Oliver, it’s become an obsession.”

  “Why are you telling me this? I’m not even part of your group.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen to me. It’s like he’s on some kind of holy crusade. I was hoping you would go with me. Maybe he’ll listen to someone with a more objective opinion. After what you did at the church, he has a lot of respect for you.”

  I really didn’t want to go. I was full and happy from supper, and looking forward to a quiet evening with my wife.

  Maggie had been listening to the exchange and picked up on my hesitancy.

  “It sounds to me like Arlo and Oliver could use your help. It shouldn’t take too long. Give me a call when you’re headed home and I’ll have a cold glass of Arbor Mist waiting for you.”

  What could I say, but ‘yes?’

  Arlo climbed into the pas
senger seat and we headed to Oliver’s house on Brookside Boulevard, not far from the UMKC campus.

  As we turned onto Brookside, Arlo pointed. “Second house.”

  Very briefly, my headlights illuminated the side yard.

  “Look!” Arlo hissed. “There’s someone on a ladder looking into the window!”

  Sure enough, some guy was on the top step peering into the house.

  I pulled to the curb and Arlo was out before the car came to a complete stop.

  “Arlo! Wait! The guy might be armed!”

  Arlo paid no attention and sprinted across the lawn. Against my better judgement, I was right on his heels.

  Arlo got to the ladder first and yelled, “Hey! What are you doing up there?”

  The peeper was so intent on what he was doing, he hadn’t seen us coming until it was too late. He looked up, startled, lost his balance, and fell backward, landing on his backside.

  As soon as he hit the ground, I heard a cell phone ring in the distance. A moment later, the ground shook with a thunderous ‘BOOM!”

  We hit the ground and covered our heads as debris from the exploding car rained down around us.

  It seemed like an eternity, but it was probably just seconds, then everything became quiet except for the sound of the flames devouring what was left of the car.

  The first thing I did was feel my body parts. Everything seemed to be intact and I was okay except for the ringing in my ears.

  “Arlo? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  A few feet away, I heard a trembling voice. “Yeah, I think so.”

  I struggled to my feet, and that’s when I noticed our peeping Tom. He was flat on his back with a shard of glass from the blast protruding from his chest.

  I shuddered when I realized that just a few feet closer and that could have been Arlo or me.

  Oliver rushed from the house and I could hear sirens in the distance.

  Oliver gasped when he saw the dead man and his lawn covered with debris.

  “What? Who?” he stammered.

  “It looks like your posts got someone’s attention,” I said.

  At that moment, cop cars and the fire department flooded the street. Derek Blaylock stepped out of one of the cars and looked at the carnage.

  “Good Lord!” Then he saw me. “Why am I not surprised you’re in the middle of this? What the hell happened here?”

  I explained why Arlo and I were at Oliver’s house and how we’d found the dead guy peeping in the window.

  “My guess,” I said, “is that this creep was trying to locate Oliver, then plant a bomb on the outside of the house. We startled him, and when he fell, he butt-dialed the bomb that was still in his car.”

  “Jesus!” Blaylock muttered.

  “And I think you might have found Dr. Speers murderer. That looks like Speer’s Rolex on his wrist.”

  “This is great news!” Oliver gushed. “If this man killed Dr. Speers, he was probably also the man who planted the bomb in the church. Now that he’s out of the picture, things can get back to normal.”

  Blaylock and I exchanged glances. “Not so fast,” I said. “This creep is just the messenger. Look at him. He’s not the one calling the shots. He may be gone, but there’s still someone out there who wants to shut you up. You’re still not safe until we find the one pulling the strings.”

  I gave Maggie a call and told her not to pour the Arbor Mist. It would be hours before I could leave the scene.

  On the way home, the one thing I couldn’t put out of my mind, was that somehow, I’d once again escaped the scythe of the Grim Reaper.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next day, Blaylock called and told me the unlucky peeper was a guy by the name of Karl Kramer. When the cops searched his apartment, they found Dr. Speers wallet, so there was no doubt that Kramer was the guilty party.

  The fact that this idiot had worn the doctor’s watch and still had the wallet in his possession was further proof that Kramer was just a shill and there was still someone out there looking for an opportunity to put an end to the flat earth gang.

  I hadn’t heard from either Arlo or Prentis for several days, then one afternoon Arlo called.

  “Walt, I have some bad news.”

  My first inclination was that there had been another attempt on his or Prentis’ life.

  “No, nothing like that,” Arlo said. “I received a call from Misty Meadows this morning. They said that my grandfather passed away last night.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “They said he died in his sleep. I guess that’s as good a way to go as any.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “The reason I’m calling is to let you know there will be a graveside service day after tomorrow at Floral Hills. Pastor Bob will be presiding. I thought I’d let you know since you all were so kind to come to his birthday party.”

  “Of course. I’m sure everyone will want to come and pay our respects to your grandfather. What time is the service?”

  “One o’clock.”

  “We’ll see you there.”

  Pale Rider was incensed that Kramer had failed again, and now, he was out of the picture.

  Just as well, he thought. The fool was worthless.

  Now, there was no other choice. He would have to handle the matter personally. His superiors wouldn’t tolerate another failure.

  He had been keeping an eye on both Prentis and Quimby. When he learned that Quimby’s grandfather had passed and a graveside service was planned, he knew that would be the perfect time to strike.

  The grave is always opened the day before, and an artificial grass cover is placed over the hole. It would be the perfect place to conceal another bomb which would put an end to the flat earth movement once and for all.

  In the dark of night, Pale Rider slipped into the cemetery and lowered the bomb into the depths of the grave.

  The next day, he would watch from a distance, and when everyone was gathered around the casket, he would dial the number that would seal their fate.

  At twelve-fifteen, Maggie, Jerry and I were ready to depart for Floral Hills. Dad and Bernice decided to drive separately. We were to meet Kevin and Veronica at the gravesite.

  I was just getting into the car when I heard Bernice sneeze. She whispered something to Dad, who nodded.

  “You three go on ahead,” Dad said. “Bernice needs to freshen up.”

  Well into her dotage, when Bernice sneezes, coughs, or laughs too hard, she sometimes has little accidents. Apparently, this was one of those times. Fortunately for both of them, they always make light of the situation realizing it is just a part of growing old.

  I waved. “Okay, we’ll see you there.”

  Fifteen minutes had passed before John and Bernice departed for the cemetery.

  “John, I’m so sorry,” Bernice said. “We’re going to be late.”

  “Don’t think a thing about it, sweetie,” John replied. “Old Silas will be just as dead when we get there.”

  “Oh, John!” she said, punching him in the arm. “You’re terrible!”

  As they pulled into the winding driveway that led to the gravesite, they were surprised to see so many cars.

  “Damn!” John muttered, “we’re going to have to walk a mile. The service will be over before we get there.”

  “No, look,” Bernice said, pointing. “See that big black car? There’s a tiny space behind it. Do you think you can get us in?”

  “Just watch me, sweetie-pie. I’ll rub some K-Y Jelly on the hood and slide her right in.”

  John pulled up behind the black SUV, cranked the wheels, and turned in. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t enough room and he clipped the rear fender of the SUV.

  “Oooops! Guess I didn’t put on enough K-Y Jelly.”

  “John, there’s a man in the car.”

  “So there is. I’d better go apologize and give him my insurance information.”

  John climbed out of his car just as the other man
was doing the same.

  “Hey, mister,” John said, pointing at the dented fender, “sorry about that.”

  The man barely glanced at the dent. “It’s nothing. Just move on. You don’t want to miss the service.”

  “Nonsense,” John said, pulling out his billfold. “I insist. I’ve got my insurance card right here.”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “I guess you didn’t hear me! I said to move on!”

  “Well, you don’t have to get snippy about it. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

  “Look, old man, I’m going to tell you one more time. Get the hell away from here.”

  “Not until we settle this!” John replied, belligerently.

  The man pulled a gun from his waistband. “If you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to this!”

  Bernice had been watching the exchange, and when the man pulled out his gun, she hiked up her skirt and pulled her .32 from her ankle holster.

  “Two can play that game, buster,” she said, menacingly.

  The man swerved and pointed the gun in her direction.

  John grabbed Bernice and they crouched behind their car.

  Exasperated, and seeing that the old couple weren’t going anywhere, Pale Rider made a decision.

  “This ends today!” he muttered to himself.

  Gun in hand, he sprinted toward the small crowd gathered around the gravesite.

  Seeing the man take off running, John and Bernice crept from around their car and headed in the same direction.

  Suddenly, Bernice grabbed John’s arm. “Look! The guy dropped his cell phone.”

  She reached down and picked it up.

  “Looks like he was about to dial some number,” she said. “I wonder if it was his mother? I think I’ll call and see if she knows what a stinker her son is.”

  Pastor Bob had just begun his remarks when we heard a disturbance along the road fifty feet away. We looked in that direction and saw a man running in our direction at full speed.

 

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