Six
Thump! Thump! Thump! What was that noise? My head was aching, I had no idea what was going on. Thump! Why couldn’t I see? That was not entirely accurate, I could see, of sorts, but what it was I was seeing was definitely unclear. I saw a red glow from time to time. It was variable in its brightness, as if it were blinking irregularly. Thump! I tried to move, but found that my body was not responding, my eyes were smarting and the smell of…something, was still in my nose. My arms seemed….Thump!…. to be wedged to my sides, so I tried to roll over….KaWhump! Thump! That question was answered anyway, it was my head hitting the floor of whatever I was in. I realized right then, that I was IN something. The red glows were some sort of hint. I panicked and tried to shout, but couldn’t quite catch my breath. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed, as much by fear as by having inadequate space to move IN. I knew where I was now, I was in a car’s trunk. The red glows were taillights, the variations in intensity were when brake lights came on. The road …Thump! was bumpy, so I was on a gravel or unfinished road with lots of potholes and bumps. I figured that it wouldn’t be long before my chauffeur would have me at my destination, so I tried to breathe again. No better. I tried struggling, pushing anywhere with all my might. Nothing happened, metal and locks are stronger than yours truly.
I was in a real tight spot, literally, and if the driver was who I thought it was, he would have no trouble finishing me off, not with the muscles that Steroids had shown me at ‘The Green Frog’. I figured I was being taken out to the country to become worm food, and imminently too.
I tried again to breathe normally; it was just impossible, as I couldn’t even get my head positioned comfortably. It was twisted over my right shoulder and I was looking at the rear of the trunk. It was a good thing that my head wasn’t facing the other way, or I may have taken longer to figure out where I was, and time was clearly of the essence.
The car slowed, and I thought that this would be it. I was sweating and gasping for air. I did realize that I may gain a slight element of surprise by feigning unconsciousness when the trunk was finally opened, but it would do me no good, as I was sure that I would be killed the instant the trunk was raised, conscious or not.
I needed something; a good idea would be nice, then the car apparently turned a corner sharply and my body shifted, placing my left hand over my coat pocket. It was the pocket with the crowbar, but I hadn’t figured that out yet. The car sped up again. Fighting my panic and newfound claustrophobia, I tried to calm myself.
I let out a wail. At least I was breathing again. I took quick shallow breaths and tried to count to 10. I got to 4 before I opened my eyes again and panicked. I wasn’t going to get out of this, not alive anyway.
I wondered if Jocko and Lieutenant Howard would solve my case. I wished now that I had told them about my break in at the apartment. I tried to move again, but the only thing I could move was my left hand. I felt the crowbar! I recognized it for what it was! I felt a glimmer of hope. I tried to remove it from my coat pocket. I couldn’t find the edge of the pocket. I tried bunching the fabric with my fingers. That helped a little. I worked the fabric down to the edge of the pocket and felt the metal of the crowbar.
Thump!, Thump!…the car had hit a new stretch of thumps! I had no idea what that meant, but that last thump had caused me to lose my grip on the crowbar.
I started over again, a bit quicker this time, until I regained the edge of the pocket. I held the fabric tightly, determined not to let the crowbar fall out of my grasp again. I took my time, and looped my index finger around the crowbar, and slowly pulled it free. I made sure that I got my other fingers around it this time before I loosened my thumb from the fabric.
I got it to a good position on my side, then tried to move it to where I thought the locking mechanism should be, somewhere between the red glows. I couldn’t move my arm, I needed leverage room. There was only one thing to do, try to get on my stomach and get the left hand closer to the lock. I tried twisting, but there was no room to twist. I tried again, no luck. I tried to make myself small, I blew out all my air, and twisted as hard as I could. THUMP! A big bump, and my upper torso moved to the right. I had my hand near the lock, I knew it, but I was so uncomfortable, that I couldn’t breathe. I was going to lose consciousness again, and my back had shooting fireworks going up the spine. I jabbed with the crowbar, and hit solid wall. I could not see where I was hitting, so I slid the bar around until I felt a groove. It had to be the junction between trunk and body. I pushed with what might I had left, and felt the tip of the crowbar engage. I pumped up and down on the bar. I felt something give, and then I blacked out.
I woke again fairly quickly. I had some room to move, the space was bigger. I had managed to pop the trunk, but it had not opened all of the way. I grabbed the edge of the door and opened it a bit, not wanting the driver to have a clue as to what I was up to. I had room to maneuver, and maneuver I did. I got myself turned around, I could see the road falling away behind me as we sped along, and I was able to breathe real air! I drew in as many breaths as I could, then realized that I’d better be rolling along out of there. Without thinking too much about it, I grabbed the crowbar, opened the trunk and rolled out onto the road. I was probably saved from a fatal beating by the fact that this was truly a country lane, and the car was probably only doing thirty. Nevertheless, I rolled approximately thirteen thousand times before stopping in the middle of the road. I just barely saw the car turning a corner ahead of me. It looked to be an old green car, with a fender missing, the trunk flapping wildly in the rear. It seemed familiar, as well it should. It was Felicity’s car.
I saw the glow of the brake lights as the car disappeared, and I knew they had discovered my escape. To this day, I don’t know how I got on my feet, but I found myself at the edge of the road, looking over a hill that sloped down to running water. I tried walking down, hanging onto trees and bushes, but lost my grip and fell/rolled all the rest of the way. I splashed into the water, which was icy cold, and it felt wonderful. It certainly woke me up. I sort of dragged myself and swam out to the center of the water and let it pull me downstream. I also had the presence of mind to look back to see if I was being pursued. I was not surprised to see a dark figure upstream, but that was all that I saw, as the water began rolling me over and over. My clothes were becoming a hindrance now, and suddenly the water didn’t feel so refreshing. I managed to balance myself, and began to work my way towards the opposite shore. I heard a shot ring out, then another, and all was quiet. I knew I was far out of range of anything short of a powerful rifle, so I took my time and secured myself among the brush I found at the other bank.
When I felt some strength return, I pulled myself on shore, and managed to get my coat and shirt off. I was shivering mightily, but I was able to wring them out, I then put my shirt on between shivers, lay down and pulling my coat over me, passed out.
I dozed in and out, sometimes clearly awake, and sometimes drowsy. I couldn’t tell if it was the aftereffects of the chemical that zonked me, or the bumping my head had received in the car and on the road. I was also trying to figure out what I had been doing in Felicity’s trunk. Had she been abducted, or hurt by my kidnapper? Was she somehow involved? I didn’t seriously consider the latter, but if she wasn’t involved, her car sure was. It was up to me to get back to town to get some help for her, if I wasn’t too late already. I was about to start moving when I heard a rustle not too far away.
Someone was moving above me. The glow of a flashlight was making itself known to my left. I froze, and under the early morning conditions, it was almost a literal freeze. The light was moving away from me, going downstream. My pursuer thought me further down stream than I actually was. I was a sitting duck though, if I remained here, so I tried rubbing my hands together to get some circulation back. I watched the light recede as I continued to rub.
After a decent interval, I groaned myself into a sitting position, and then onto my knees. I stayed there for a minute, hoping everything still worked. I would surely be paying for this tomorrow. Actually, it was probably already tomorrow, though it was still black out. The water picked up faint gleams from the thin moon and the stars, and I was able to get oriented. I crawled up the bank, and soon found the road, about twenty yards away. I decided to walk to the area where I had seen the flashlight. If I could at least get a glimpse, I would have most of my questions answered, if not all of them. I had to be careful though, my opponent was potentially armed and certainly dangerous. I was actually starting to warm up, and was begin ning to walk fairly well. Luckily, it was just a cool morning in August and not later in the year. My feet were the last to warm up, and by the time I got to where I thought the car ought to be, I was doing OK. There was a curve in the road, and as I neared it, I heard a door slam, and a car start. It roared away before I could reach the curve, so I missed the driver. I thought it was a small man, but I couldn’t be sure, having not gotten a clear look.
I stumbled along the road, seeing no other sign of human life. A few animals watched me warily from the trees that bordered the road. It wasn’t too long before I came across blacktop. There was a sign ahead, stating that it was 24 miles to Hustle. That was good to know. I figured that someone would be along soon, and I could hitch a ride. Then, I realized that it could be my abductor that came along, so it might be best to travel on foot until I could get to a phone and see if Jocko could bail me out again.
I traveled along in this manner for about an hour, before I saw headlights. I scurried to the trees like a rat in the big city, and waited till the vehicle passed. It was just a stranger in a small truck. It was too late to flag them down, so I continued my walk. Over the next two hours, this event repeated itself three more times, never allowing me a chance to get relief. The next sign said 18 miles, so I had covered one fourth of the distance. My feet were hurting, so I sat down and took off my shoes. My sockless feet were becoming badly blistered, and I knew my walk was over. I sat by the side of the road, determined to take my chances on the next vehicle. A car soon appeared, I raised my hands, trying to wave it down. A young girl looked at me, opened her mouth in terror, and drove on. I supposed I looked pretty bad and somewhat derelict, but I had no choice.
The sun had started to cause its own light, lending a grayish cast to the surroundings when a pick up truck drove by. I had enough strength to wave my arms weakly, and he pulled over.
“What’s wrong with you?” the driver asked.
“Had an accident and fell in the river,” I replied wearily.
“Well, you’re too messy for my cab, but you can hop on the bed if you wanna.”
“I wanna,” I replied, and limped to the truck, climbed on back, and fell onto the softest gunnysacks ever made by man.
“Ya goin’ to Hustle?”
“Yes, please.”
Without another word, he drove off. Compared to my ride out, it should have been wonderful, but it was cold, cold, cold, and windy.
I guess I am hard to please. It probably only took 20 minutes to reach town, but I was totally exhausted when I got there. He dropped me off outside a doughnut shop that had its lights on, and I stumbled down off the truck. I smiled my thanks to the driver, an older fellow, with a kind face, and he waved and drove off.
I put my shoes back on and went into the shop. The girl behind the counter looked me over, and said, “Looks like you fell way off the wagon last night.”
“Worse than that,” I croaked, “where’s the restroom.”
She pointed the way, and I spent the next ten minutes running my hands under warm water, rinsing my face off and trying to get the mud from the hillside off of my clothes. At least I was warming up when I limped back into the brightly lit eating area.
“Could I have a half dozen warm doughnuts, a cup of coffee and some orange juice, please?”
“Nothing personal, but I’d better see some money first,” she wisely requested.
I fumbled around in my pockets, coming up with my twenty of the night before, and I handed the soggy mess to her. She took it gingerly, and placed it on a part of the counter where it could dry and die in peace. She got my order together, and handed it to me, along with my change.
Those were the best doughnuts ever baked, or cooked, or fried, or however they make them. I savored every crunchy mouthful, and enjoyed the cold versus hot sensations as I drank the hot coffee and the cold orange juice. I was in control of my own body again, such as it was. It was time to get on with solving the case. It was now crystal clear that I was in for keeps, and that an active role was now required. I needed to make some phone calls, get home and get my wits together, then get back to work.
I looked at my watch, it was nearly 7:00 A.M., and I found a few lonely coins in my pocket. I went to the pay phone on the wall by the door and pulled up the phone book, looking up the number of the Police Department. I dialed the number, and asked the man who answered the phone if there was a way to reach Jocko.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Just a friend of his, who had a little trouble, I was hoping he could give me a lift home.”
“He didn’t show for work last night, better call him at home.”
He hung up.
I called the number I had memorized. This time a younger fe male voice answered. “Hello?”
“Is this Bitsy?”
“Yeeeees.” Hesitantly.
“Hi, this is After Coffman, I met Jocko a few days ago.”
“Hi After, I’ve heard of you.” She laughed. I wondered why she was laughing. “I wanted to speak with Jocko, please.”
“Oh, well he’s not due home until 8:00, I’ll tell him you called.”
“Is he working the beat now, or the grocery store?”
“Oh, he’s on the beat, he works nights, you know.”
“Yes,” I answered, troubled. “I know. Thanks for giving him the message.” “No problem, drop by sometime.”
I resolved to drop by, if only to wring his neck. What was he doing last night, fooling around? Or was he finding some quality time with his friends from the big city, whatever big city that might be.
I was troubled, but decided to try and walk home, blisters and all. I hobbled to the door, passing the counter, when the girl behind the counter stopped me. “Couldn’t get a ride?”
“No,” I said morosely. “My friend wasn’t home.”
“I’m off as soon as my help gets here, I’ll give you a lift. You don’t look as creepy with the color back in your face.”
“It’s good to know I don’t look creepy.” I laughed, and she joined in.
I sat down, and in a few minutes two new people attired in the shop’s outfits came in to relieve her.
She bounced up front and walked to the door with me. We went to a nice, new Lincoln Town Car parked in front. I must have looked astonished, for she explained, “My parent’s car.”
She handed me a towel that she must have taken from the shop.
“Better sit on this.”
I took it, spread it out on the passenger seat and sat on it.
“Someday, you’re going to have to tell me how you got into this mess.” “It’s a long story, but I’ll do it some night when I have insomnia and need doughnuts.”
She laughed, “Better call me first, the store doesn’t open till 6:00, but I go in at midnight to cook the doughnuts. Just call the number in the book and let it ring. I’m not there on weekends. My name is Gloria.” She was talking non-stop, but held out her hand without taking her eyes off the road. I shook it.
“I’m After Coffman.”
“Neat name.”
“You can thank my mom.”
“Of course,” she giggled, “where do you live?”
“Mother Teresa’s on the other side of town.” I gave her directions and we were there fairly soon. I got out, stretched and turned to walk to the door, my bed and more food! “Thanks Gloria,” I said. “You’re a life saver.”
She grinned, showing perfectly white teeth, and a great smile, hit the accelerator and peeled rubber in her parent’s sedate Town Car.
I shook my head and hobbled to the door. Mother was waiting inside, about to serve breakfast. “What has happened to you?”
“I was kidnapped, and had to swim through a river, and walk, and hitch a ride to get home.”
“Are you hungry?”
Amazingly enough, I was. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Go get some dry clothes on, clean up, and I’ll have hot cereal for you when you get down.”
That sounded wonderful, so putting Steroids, Jocko, Felicity, Felix and Felicia out of my head, I trudged up the stairs, slowly but surely, got out of my clothes, and found my terrycloth bathrobe, went to the bathroom, did a quick clean up job, and went back downstairs.
There was hot oatmeal, with a bowl of crumbly brown sugar, and a small pitcher of milk at my seat. Hot, buttered raisin bread toast, some fresh bananas and oranges, and a cup of hot tea soon followed this.
“This is wonderful,” I gasped. “Where is everyone else?”
“Either at work, or up to something else, they all ate a while ago. Paul didn’t show up last night though. He didn’t call, and I am a bit worried. Could you try and find him today?” I assured her that I would, but really figured that with all the deaths, he was overworked at the Obituary desk.
“Now, tell me all about it,” Mother insisted.
I did tell her all about it, except for the part about not reaching Jocko, I didn’t want her to worry about that until I knew more. I was going to call him after a shower and a nap anyway, so I’d be on top of that situation soon enough.
She was interested in the kidnapping, but also very interested in everything Felicity had done. “Shouldn’t you call the police?”
“Oh my gosh!” I jumped up, “I was so worried about myself, that I forgot that she could be in trouble.”
“Do it!” Mother ordered.
I called the Police Department again, and asked for Lieutenant Howard. This time I had better luck as he answered the phone right away.
“Lieutenant Howard? This is After Coffman. I had an interesting night last night, and I’ll tell you all about it, but first I need to know if a friend of mine had any problems last night?”
“Who is you friend?”
“Her name is Felicity.” I didn’t know her last name, I just realized.
“This is embarrassing, but I don’t know her last name, or where she lives…BUT, I do have her phone number,” I quickly appended.
“OK, no one had problems that we know of last night, but give me the number, and I’ll look it up.”
“Thanks Lieutenant.”
“OK, want to tell me the long version, or the short one.”
“I’ll tell you the short one, then I’m taking a shower and a nap.”
I told him the skeletal outlines, and when he heard about the shots by the bank, he whistled. I told him everything, again leaving out the details about Jocko.
“OK,” he muttered. “You sleep till noon, and I’m picking you up for lunch.” “Sounds fair to me. And… thanks Lieutenant.”
“It’s my job, and you’re making me earn every penny.” He hung up.
I went back upstairs, took what was definitely the best shower ever enjoyed by man, then shaved, brushed my hair and fairly flew into my bedroom. I noticed that my clothes were still out on the windowsill, obviously soaked from the rain, and so I decided that they might as well dry out there too. As bad as the weather was last night, the day was looking beautiful. I was glad to be around to enjoy it, but decided that the thrill could wait until after my nap. I fell into the softest bed ever made by man, and promptly fell asleep.
I didn’t waken until I heard someone knocking at my door. I got up, every joint creaking and every bone hurting, and went to the door. I opened it, and saw Lieutenant Howard standing there. I got flustered and looked at my watch. It was about half past noon.
“Get some clothes on, we have a lot to talk about.”
“How’s Felicity?” I asked first, standing my ground.
“My guess is that she made it through the night just fine, but she’s nowhere to be found.”
“OK.” I found some jeans and a tee shirt, and some socks, my feet hurt too much not to. My loafers were still soaked, probably ruined, so I put on some old sneakers. I looked out the window, and my other clothes were still damp, so they would get to dry some more today.
The Lieutenant had been waiting outside my door, and we went downstairs together. It looked nice out still, so without any other delays, we were out the door and got into his unmarked police car.
He took us to a little bar and grill at the city limits where it was fairly quiet, and we could get some talking done. I ordered a burger with the works, some fries and an iced tea. He ordered a salad, no dressing and water. I shrugged, that was his call; as for me, it appeared that several people wished me dead, so I was going to indulge in cholesterol, whether it killed me or not.
The waitress brought the food quickly, and grinned at Lieutenant Howard. He grinned back, then started into his food. My food still needed catsup and salt, so I got busy adding them. About halfway through the meal, he started with the questions.
“OK After, you said someone was shooting at you from the bank of the river about 24 miles out of town.” My mouth was full, so I just nodded yes.
“You saw Felicity’s car drive down the road after you escaped?”
I nodded again.
“The last time you saw Felicity was a bit before you closed Roy’s place for the night.” Nod.
“Here’s some information you may find interesting. You were not the one being shot at. We found a body on the bank this morning; it appears to be the big man you met at ‘The Green Frog’.” I looked up at this, surprised.
“You mean Steroids?”
“Whatever. We’re running prints on him to get an identification, and we’ll check him out when we get a hit, through all the files that are available to us. That brings me to the cars. We found the silver Volkswagen last night, parked at a motel south of town. We found Felicity’s car this morning. We ran a check on the license plate, and found it registered to Rebecca Riggins. I guess your friend uses an alias. We will run all prints on both cars. Did you ride in it at any time, I mean in the seat?” he amended with an apologetic grin.
“Yes, several times,” I responded.
“Then, we’ll need you for prints as well.”
“Mine are on file, both at the Police Academy in New York as well as down at your place. I had to give prints for my Private Investigator’s license.”
“You know that the license is only good in Hustle, you have to take a state test and show proficiency to practice elsewhere in the state.”
“I didn’t know that.” Now I was dejected. Things were not going well. “Anything else, Lieutenant?”
“That about wraps it up. We traced Felicity’s phone number, she had it disconnected yesterday. She lived in a small apartment over a real estate office down next to the supermarket. Ever been there?”
“Jocko took me to the supermarket where he works, if that’s the one you mean. I already told you that I didn’t know where she lived.”
“By the way,” he asked, a bit too casually, “did you see Jocko last night?” “Nooooo,” I said, trying not to look too interested. Changing the subject. “Was the man on the bank shot with a .22?”
“Yes, he was killed in the same style as the man who tried to take you out in your room.” “Same person doing both shootings,” I mused.
“Probably.”
“Same gun?”
“Most assuredly.”
“Hmmm,” I muttered. “Seems to be easy enough. I wonder why no one shouts to me that they are the person behind all of this.”
“Doesn’t anyone come to mind?” the Lieutenant asked gently.
“You don’t mean Felicity?” I gasped. “She’s surely got nothing to do with this. She happened to leave before I did, and the creep must have stolen her car.”
“Why didn’t your kidnapper use his own car?”
“Even I know that there is not anywhere near enough room in a Volkswagen’s trunk for a body.”
“You may have a point,” Lieutenant Howard conceded, “but I will be very interested in the fingerprint results when they come in.”
“So will I.”
“By the way,” he continued, “the press is getting a hold of this.
Your part has been kept fairly well under wraps, just that you were a witness. Best just to give them a ‘no comment’, if they should try to speak with you.”
“No problem, Lieutenant,” I said.
That seemed to be all of it, as Lieutenant Howard called for the check, paid it and we went back outside.
“Can I give you a lift home?” he asked.
“No thanks, I think it’s probably safe for me to walk, and I want to walk, maybe clear my head. It helps me to relax too.”
“O.K., but take it easy, and let me know if anything else happens.
I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, with the fingerprint results.
Oh, by the way, the motel room that your assailant was at, was registered to Charlie Underhill, the man who tried to shoot you.”
“ I remember.” I shuddered.
I stumbled on home, not in the shape I had hoped to be in.
Even so, it did manage to help me work some of the sore spots a bit.
I worried about Felicity the entire time. I kept thinking that it was time for me to take some action, but the action kept taking me. I was worried about Jocko as well. He didn’t seem the type to get into trouble, no matter what Roy said. I found myself wandering a bit, and happened to notice that I was near Roy’s Shoppe. I got there quickly and entered the door. Roy looked up with a smile, but it left his face quickly. I must have looked pretty grim, as he asked, “What’s the problem, After?”
“I guess I owe you for some tools,” I said, then proceeded to tell him everything, except the part about Jocko. That Boy Scout had some explaining to do. I also mentioned Grits and his ‘purchase’, managing to convey a bit of disapproval. Roy had the grace to look a little uncomfortable, then shrugged. He looked at me again, then admitted, “I was going to tell you about the gun thing, just never seemed to be a good time. We all do what we have to do.”
“Let’s just forget about it, and as I didn’t actually take any money, I can honestly tell the cops that I’ve never sold a gun here…not that they would ever ask me.” I gulped. “We’ll leave it at that, but please, let me know if you get into a pickle and it causes a problem. Give me a chance to clean the place up.”
“I owe you that, and I will if I can.”
“Good enough, and don’t worry about the tools, they are so cheap at the garage sales, that I generally don’t even mess with them.
There are lots more in the shed out back, if you still need some.”
I did need some, and went back to the shed, finding all that I needed for the job at Mother’s. Feeling like the morning wasn’t a total loss, I went back through the Shoppe, waved at Roy, and finished the walk home on sore, but dry feet.
There was still plenty of time left, so I got to work on the front door, and had a new dead bolt in before supper. I went upstairs to change clothes, and I discovered that Mother had taken the clothes out from the window, and laid them on my bed, window closed, room neat. For some reason, the clean clothes reminded me of Felicity, and I fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to determine how she fit into this mess, and whether she was an active participant, or an innocent bystander.
I got up for dinner, going down the stairs without any real appetite for food or life. The food was great, I remember, but I don’t recall what it was. I finished it, and walked back to Roy’s, where I spent an uneventful evening selling old chains and some glasses to a man and his wife. She told him what to do, when to do it, and how he was ruining everything he touched. It didn’t help my mood any, and I was glad there were no other customers. I grabbed my twenty from the drawer, locked up, and remembering my incident at last night’s closing, slunk out the back door and crept home like a criminal.
I fell into a deep sleep, and awakened only after I slept through a long, stormy set of dreams, bed soaked with sweat, and feeling that I had somehow let Felicity down.