Monday Girl's Revenge

by David A. Thyfault

  “Wait a minute, Mr. Mayor,” Irv Wedlock said from the side of the room. “Neal here said he had two stories for me. After that show, I’m sure everybody here wants to hear what else he has for us.”

  “Yes. I understand that, Mr. Wedlock,” the Mayor said, “but we’re running very late and these good people—”

  “These good people, as you say, are here because they care about their community and I’m sure you want our story to illustrate that the Palmdale City Council is a first-class example of what all city councils should be like. I’d like to say you’re always interested in doing what’s right for the citizens, no matter how unorthodox or inconvenient.”

  The Mayor sighed and turned back to Stump. “Alright, Neal, did you have something else you wanted to say?”

  Finally. “Yes, sir. I definitely do.” Stump took a deep breath, reached in his pocket and grabbed a small piece of paper containing his notes.

  Chapter Eighty

  With the full attention of the City Council and the TV camera, Stump began his story. “As many of you know, three years ago, my mom died in a house fire in the oldest part of town. She got trapped in a room with bars on the windows, bars that had no safety latches. Later, I found out that there are lots of unsafe homes in that area, mostly because they were built before there were good building codes like there are today. It didn’t seem fair to me that poor people have to live in unsafe homes.

  “So I came to a previous meeting to try to help my mom’s neighbors upgrade their unsafe properties. Unfortunately, I had an accident and missed the follow-up meeting, and for that I’m sorry. Afterwards, I found out that some of the citizens simply didn’t have the money to do the things we were talking about.”

  Stump looked directly into the camera. “Things like removing asbestos insulation, unsafe wiring, lead-based paint, fixing leaky roofs and plumbing—and of course, windows that don’t allow for safe passage in emergencies.” He turned back toward the council members.

  “Since that day, I’ve continued to do research.” He pointed to Grandma Pauline. “And thanks to that very special lady back there, I’ve discovered some brand-new information that all of you should know about.”

  “Alright. Get on with it,” the Mayor said.

  Stump nodded. ”To help me, I’ve asked Mr. Clyde Connors, a very successful local businessman who specializes in housing matters, to explain it to you.” Stump turned and nodded at Mr. Connors.

  Mr. Connors approached the microphone. “Hello, everybody. I own the apartment building next door to where Stump works. I came here tonight to share with you two programs, which I have personally investigated. Earlier today, I spoke with representatives from both agencies, so the information I am about to share with you is very fresh. These organizations were established precisely for the type of things Stump here is talking about. Roofs, furnaces, windows. All of it. But the remarkable truth is that there is no cost to the residents to upgrade their homes. I repeat. All of these repairs are free to homeowners who qualify.” Stump glanced around. Silent people seemed stunned.

  “Are you certain about this?” the Mayor asked of Mr. Connors.

  “As I said. I checked it out today. Any of you can look it up on the internet right now. It’s called Rebuilding Together. They get their money from federal grants and have funds as we speak.”

  Several people began tapping at their phones.

  “I have some of the application forms here so you can see just how simple they are,” Mr. Connors added.

  “I found it,” somebody said.

  Another guy held his cell in the air. “Me too!”

  Councilwoman Torrez showed the Mayor the read-out on her cell phone.

  “I’ll be damned,” said a different voice.

  Others mumbled in amazement while Mr. Connors plopped the applications on the side table and returned to his seat.

  “Well, Neal,” the mayor said. “I have to admit this is very interesting. Exactly what were you expecting from this committee?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Mayor. If we do this right, we won’t have to pass a new law and force people to do things they don’t want to do, but we can help everybody who wants it. The key is we need to get the word out to make it more official. That’s where the Council can help. You guys have much more credibility than a sixteen-year-old like me.”

  The Mayor snickered. “I wouldn’t say that after what we’ve seen here today, but we don’t have a lot of manpower.”

  “I thought about that, but if we work together we can do it. The first thing we have to do is inform the residents of the programs. We just need some brochures to deliver door to door.” Stump pointed toward his councilman. “Mr. Barella is a nice man. He helped us before. I’m sure he’d provide these brochures too, in the name of the City Council, and help me and my friend, James, deliver them.”

  James jumped up. “I’m in.”

  The cameraman bounced back to Michael Barella. “Err. Ahh. Yes. I can do that,” Barella said, while adjusting his collar.

  Stump grinned. “We could have two meetings that will explain it all. One at night, after dinner, and one on a Saturday. That way everybody should have a chance to come to one or the other.” He pointed toward the side of the room. “That’s my attorney over there. Ms. Delgado. I’ve asked her to oversee all the details so you’ll know that somebody responsible is in charge of all the legalities.”

  Danielle Delgado rose. “Not only that. If councilman Barella and the City Planner will help me, I’ll chair a committee that will look into getting funds from the county and some merchants to improve Main Street. We’ll see if we can put in a nice island and some foliage so people will be glad to live here, and visitors will think of our town as a nice place to spend their money.” She looked at Barella. The camera zoomed in again.

  “Why, yes,” Councilman Barella said with a half-smile. “Why not?”

  The cameraman spun to the side table where Mrs. Crumpler beamed at Stump for several long seconds before nodding in approval. “You can count on my department.”

  James raised his clenched fist high into the air. “Yes.”

  “I hope they’ll also put in safer sidewalks for bicycles and the elderly,” Stump added.

  The Mayor nodded. “God knows we could use the jobs. Where would you hold these meetings?”

  Stump shuffled his feet, “Well, to tell you the truth, I haven’t exactly—”

  “Excuse me.” Stump knew the voice. “My name is Myles Cooper, Mr. Mayor. I’m Neal’s dad and I know several local law enforcement officers who I can call upon to help out with the meetings. We can provide an interpreter and maybe get some refreshments. The detective who was here earlier has a contact at the grade school. I’m positive we can use the cafeteria.”

  Mr. Connors rose. “I’ll donate five hundred dollars to cover the refreshments and miscellaneous costs.”

  Grandma Pauline clapped her hands. “This is a good play.”

  Myles held her hand.

  A giant smile stretched across Stump’s face as he addressed the Mayor. “I rest my case.”

  “This isn’t a court, Mr. Randolph,” the mayor said. He paused for a moment before he banged his gavel. “I’m going to call a quick recess to have a conversation with the panel. We’ll reconvene in five minutes.”

  After the council members went out in the hall, Stump joined Myles in the aisle next to Grandma Pauline. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was up to, Myles, but I was afraid you’d stop me.”

  “We’ll talk about that later, but for now we’re all working for your mother. Now get back up to the front of the room where you belong.”

  Danielle Delgado wandered over. “I’m sorry I threw in that part about sprucing up Main Street, but I just couldn’t help myself. It’s so ugly over there.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Stump said. “Especially getting Mr. Barella involved. You made him look like a hero.”

  Irv Wedlock tapped Stump on the shoulder. “Great jo
b, Stump. We’ll see if we can’t plug your program on the news.”

  Other people took turns patting Stump on the back and encouraging him as he moved back to the lectern.

  A moment later, the outer doors burst open and the cameraman got the shot of the councilmembers as they returned, in single file like a jury, to their seats. Mayor Curtis checked his microphone. “Everybody please be seated. We’re already very late and we’d like to wrap this up. The committee has discussed the matter as proposed.” He pointed at Stump. “Now if Mr. Randolph here doesn’t have any additional jobs for Mr. Barella to do, can we proceed with the vote?”

  Stump leaned into his microphone and grinned at Mr. Barella. “I was hoping he’d stand on the corner with one of those spinning signs and direct traffic to the meetings.”

  The audience laughed and Barella wagged a friendly finger at Stump.

  “Okay, then,” the Mayor said. “I will ask each panel member, one at a time, whether they agree that the City Council should promote and advise the community of the importance of upgrading their homes based on the terms and conditions we spelled out earlier, all of which is now of record.” He banged his gavel and looked to his right. “Let me begin with Victoria Hennretti. Do you vote yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  “William Goode. How do you vote?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “It’s my turn, and I vote yes,” the Mayor said as he turned his head to his left.

  “Carmen Torrez?”

  “Yes.”

  “And finally we come to tonight’s man of the hour. Mr. Michael Barella. And how do you vote, sir?”

  Ever the showman, Mr. Barella grinned and stalled, enjoying the moment and the TV camera. A hush filled the room as everybody anticipated his reply. Then, “I don’t know how I got roped into all this, but I say, hell, yes.”

  Wild cheers overwhelmed the room while the camera perused all the happy faces.

  “It’s unanimous and the measure passes,” the Mayor yelled into his microphone. “Now let’s get to that party.”

  Chapter Eighty-One

  As soon as the meeting was over, a group of well-wishers encircled Stump. Naturally, Michael Barella stood wherever the camera was aimed. After the excitement wore off Myles offered to take his mother, Stump and James for a slice of pie. They called Detective Sanchez and invited her to meet them.

  Once seated at the restaurant, Stump was able to see the door.

  “I can’t eat that much,” Grandma Pauline said.

  “You haven’t even seen the menu yet, Mom,” Myles said.

  “They always give me too much.”

  “Don’t worry, Grandma,” Stump said. “If they give you too much, I’ll help you.”

  The waitress came by and Myles ordered apple pie for everybody.

  “There’s Detective Sanchez now,” Stump said, pointing to the entry door. He waved her over and scooted around the booth to make room. James slid too, and Detective Sanchez eased into the new space.

  “I’m surprised you could make it,” Myles said.

  “I probably shouldn’t have, but I’m starving.”

  “I hope you like apple pie. We all ordered the same thing.”

  “Right now, I’d eat liver and onions.”

  “Gross,” Stump said. “What happened to Manuel?”

  “It was sad. After he heard we had the weapon and a chicken box full of his prints he folded like an old sheet. I think he was feeling pretty guilty and just wanted to get it over with.”

  “Was Juanita in on it?” Stump followed up. “I wasn’t sure.”

  “Don’t think so. She was pretty broken up. I had to get somebody to stay with her for the night.”

  “Consequences,” Grandma Pauline said.

  Stump turned her way, wondered if she knew she’d made a relevant comment.

  “Dixon’s having a rough time,” Detective Sanchez said. “He thought he’d gotten away with that old case, but he’s mad as hell. He’s hired an attorney, but it isn’t going to do him much good. There’s too much physical evidence and too many witnesses.”

  “Well, I can tell you this,” Myles said. “If Stump’s mom knew what he pulled off tonight, she’d be damned proud.” He looked sternly at Stump. “But you should have told Detective Sanchez or me what you were up to. The way you played it was too risky.”

  “We considered that,” James said, “but Stump wanted to give the TV station a scoop.”

  Stump shrugged. “I know I didn’t do everything just right, but it was the only way I could force them to listen to me.”

  “Gotta admit it worked out well,” Myles said. “What made you think of getting the TV station there?”

  “You taught me about giving people what they want. So I thought about Mr. Barella and the others. What’s the one thing they want more than anything?”

  “To get reelected,” James said.

  “Right. It’s all about image to guys like that, so the best way to get their attention was to give them what they craved, and the best way to get the cameras there was to give them something they wanted too.”

  “Look how fat that guy is,” Grandma Pauline said, pointing to a customer in the next booth.

  Detective Sanchez cringed while Myles shushed his mom, and then turned back to Stump. “You said my mom helped. What did she have to do with anything?”

  “Two ways. First she was the only one who knew that there are grants available for people to upgrade their houses.”

  “Did you know Ted and Sheila?” Grandma Pauline asked Detective Sanchez.

  “No ma’am. I haven’t had that pleasure, but we’re all glad you knew them.” She turned to Stump. “What was the other way this smart woman helped?”

  Stump smiled at Grandma Pauline and looked at Myles. “When she first arrived from Oklahoma, she was thinking about changing her will without your sister ever knowing about it. Her idea was, by the time your sis figured it out, it would be too late. She called it a Ruby.”

  “Where is Ellen anyway?” Grandma Pauline asked. “She never comes around anymore.”

  “She’s at her house, Mom,” Myles said. Back to Stump. “A ruby?”

  “She was talking about Jack Ruby, the guy who killed Oswald for killing JFK. I had to look it up.”

  “Jack Ruby?” Grandma Pauline said. “He was one of my students.”

  Myles patted her hand.

  “What about Ruby?” Detective Sanchez asked.

  “There are several theories surrounding the President’s death. One of them was that the mob tricked Oswald into killing JFK. But they didn’t trust Oswald to keep his mouth shut, so they hired their loyal friend, Jack Ruby, who ran a bar in Texas, to kill Oswald.”

  Myles nodded. “I saw that on TV, but I thought a committee proved Oswald acted alone.”

  “There were several theories, but none of that matters for our purposes. The relevant point has to do with Ruby’s health. He was very ill and expected to die within a year. Other than the mob, nobody knew the details of the assassination except Oswald and Ruby but Oswald was already dead and Ruby wasn’t going to be around very long because of his illness so he had nothing to lose by killing Oswald. It was brilliant.”

  “But Manuel wasn’t ill,” Myles said.

  “No, but Mr. Kraft was.” Stump said. “Manuel hated Dixon, but couldn’t do anything about it without becoming a prime suspect. But then word got out that Mr. Kraft was dying. The first time I met Manuel he told me that he’d seen his own uncle suffer through the same thing and he didn’t like it. Manuel figured he could carry out a mercy killing on Mr. Kraft and frame Dixon all with one swing of a heavy board. If he was lucky, he and Juanita might even get Dixon’s job, or at least get paid what they were worth.”

  “It almost worked,” Detective Sanchez said. “If Stump hadn’t seen Manuel’s out-of-place chicken box...”

  Stump nodded. “And the scar on the fence. After James and I checked that out and found the support board from the be
d frame, I knew Manuel had the means, opportunity and motive to kill Mr. Kraft.”

  “A MOM,” James said.

  Myles nodded and said to Stump, “I still wish you wouldn’t go off on your own like that.”

  “To be perfectly honest,” Detective Sanchez said, “Stump found out some things nobody else knew, like that Mrs. Quintana had been raped recently. More importantly, he persuaded her to talk about it. That enabled us to arrest Dixon and find out about that old case. I’m not sure we could have done all that without him.” She looked directly at Stump. “Regardless, I’m glad we all got reunited.”

  “When I figured it out, I wondered why I didn’t recognize you earlier, ’cause I always thought you were, well, you know.”

  “You thought I was what?” Detective Sanchez asked while folding her arms. “In over my head?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “I know what he means,” James said. “He thinks you’re hot.”

  Stump thumped James on the arm. “For an older woman, Dude. I said she looks good for an older woman.”

  Detective Sanchez chuckled. “Older woman, huh? You don’t know how good that is to hear. If you weren’t Maria’s boyfriend I might just be tempted to scoop you up myself.”

  Myles grinned and pointed toward the kitchen. “Thank God. Here comes our pie.”

  “I can’t eat that much.”

  “It’s not even here yet, Mom.”

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  It had been several days since Delores arrested both Dixon Browne and Manuel Alvarado. She’d had her fill of interrogations, reporters, paperwork and attorneys, but those weren’t her only problems. Except for a few quick phone calls, she’d essentially abandoned Carlton Fayes, the art teacher, which meant he’d had to attend to nearly every detail of what he came to refer to as The Great Cupcake Extravaganza.

  All of this proved two things: one, Mrs. Carbone was correct when she said that Carlton usually did more than his fair share of the chores; and two, now that the day for the Extravaganza had arrived, Delores looked forward to it as much as any of the students did.