[Lady Justice 01] - Lady Justice Takes a C.R.A.P.

by Robert Thornhill

  At that moment, Captain Short entered the room.

  “At ease, men,” Shorty barked. “Our first order of business today is to congratulate Officer George Wilson and his new partner, Walter Williams, for the apprehension of the livestock exchange thieves. Good job, guys.”

  A round of applause circulated around the room. Except for Murdock. He was sitting in the back of the room, and I could almost see the steam rising from the top of his head.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Shorty continued. “We’ve had a string of hit-and-run assaults in Gillham Park. A white male, about five feet, ten inches, 175 pounds, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, has been hiding in the shrubbery waiting for an easy mark to pass by. He runs out, strikes the victim so fast they don’t know what hit them, and runs away with their purses.

  “We’ve got witnesses, but at the time of day he strikes, the only people in the park are moms or nannies with their kids or senior citizens out for a stroll. Certainly no one who could fight back. He’s obviously cased the park and knows when it’s easy pickings. By the time someone calls 911 and we respond, the perp’s long gone.

  “We’ve tried staking out the park, but the perp never attacks when our guys are around. I think any viable male in the area discourages him, and he has the luxury of picking his time and place. We don’t have the manpower to stake out the park 24/7. Any ideas?”

  Everyone looked anxiously around the room waiting for someone to come up with a plan. No one spoke.

  Hmm, I thought. Senior citizens and nannies. And an idea began to form in my head. I was reluctant to speak up, being the new guy and all, but then I thought, What the heck. There’s a time to be mild mannered and a time for action.

  “Uh, Captain Short,” I said. I raised my hand like I was back in second grade.

  “Yes, Williams,” the captain acknowledged.

  “Well, Captain, I know I’m the new guy here, but I do have an idea.”

  There were lots of sideways glances and eye rolling from the other officers.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Sir, you mentioned that regular officers seem to scare the perp away, but senior citizens don’t seem to be a threat. What if you had a senior citizen planted in the park with a wire?” I pointed to my head of gray hair and said, “You could place a backup officer close by but out of sight. If the perp showed up, I could immediately call for backup and keep an eye on the perp until help arrived.”

  The captain thought for a moment. “It has some possibilities,” he said. “You and Ox please hang around for a minute. The rest of you men are dismissed to your regular assignments.”

  When everyone was gone but us, the captain spoke up. “Walt, I like your idea. Nothing else has worked so far, and we’re getting a lot of pressure from citizens. They’re afraid to go into the park. But I am concerned about deliberately putting a civilian, even if you are CPP, in harm’s way.”

  “Not to worry, Captain,” I said. “Obviously the perp doesn’t consider old guys, like me, to be a threat. In fact, nobody really pays much attention to seniors. It’s like we’re invisible. We just kind of blend into the background. And anyway, I probably won’t be anywhere near the perp when he strikes. It’s a big park.”

  “All right,” the captain replied. “Ox, take Walt down and get him fitted for a wire. You’ll need to go home and change into civilian clothing. And give me a call when you’re set up in the park.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” I said. “I’ll go home get on my best brown plaid polyester pants and suspenders.”

  When I arrived home, Willie was sitting on the front steps.

  “Mr. Walt, what you doin’ home this time o’ day? I thought you be out fightin’ crime.”

  I told him about sitting in the park.

  Without hesitation, Willie’s street experience on the other side of the law kicked into gear.

  “What you need is a sidekick,” he said. “You gonna need some help. What you gonna do all day, jus’ sit dere wif you’ finger up yo’ butt? If this perp has any brains at all, he gonna be watchin’ who’s comin’ and goin’. If somethin’ don’t look right, he ain’t gonna show. Now jus’ think about it. Two grizzled old farts sitting at a picnic table playing checkers. Fits right in. Dey could sit dere fo’ hours and nobody would notice. Besides, I got me a prop.”

  He disappeared into the building. He came back holding a walking cane with a shiny brass handle at the top. “A rich guy sorta gave me this one night when I was in his house. I knew someday it would come in handy,” he grinned.

  So off we went to meet Ox.

  “Oh man,” he said as Willie and I walked up. “The captain’s gonna drop a load. He was worried about one civilian. Now we got two.”

  “That’s one big dude,” Willie whispered in my ear.

  I introduced my two friends, shared some of Willie’s background with Ox, and promoted our checker idea. Reluctantly he agreed.

  We found our picnic table in the middle of the park, where we had a good view of both ends. Ox parked his car two blocks away from the park in the lot of a convenience store. He was maybe two minutes away. We set up our checkerboard, and the sting was on.

  There weren’t many people in the park. The word had gotten around, and scared citizens were probably steering clear till the robber was caught.

  An older, large black woman was pushing a stroller with a white baby. Probably a nanny. An old man in ratty clothing with a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag was stretched out on a bench, asleep, and two boys about eight to ten years old were riding their bikes on the asphalt around the playground. Peaceful. No action.

  About noon, a young woman appeared from the direction of the parking lot. She had a Burger King bag in one hand and a large purse slung over her shoulder. Probably a secretary escaping from the madhouse in her office for a peaceful lunch in the park.

  The moment she laid her purse on the table, a man in a hooded sweatshirt emerged from the bushes close by. As he approached, the woman screamed and grabbed for her purse, but it was too late. The perp grabbed the purse and took off.

  “Ox, we got him,” I yelled into the wire. “Get over here, quick!”

  “On the way,” he replied.

  Fortunately, the perp was running in Ox’s direction. There was only one vehicle entrance into the park. We were worried he might escape in another direction, but he must have had a vehicle close by in the parking lot.

  Ox came screaming around the corner, lights and sirens blaring. The perp came to a sudden stop. He was cut off from his means of escape. He furtively glanced around the park and spied the young boys riding their bikes. He sprinted over to them, knocked the boy off of the biggest bike, slung the purse over his shoulder, and took off pedaling down the path that would take him right by our picnic table.

  As he was approaching, Willie leaped to his feet with the timing and grace of a fencing master, and as the bike passed he thrust the cane into the whirling spokes. The bike came to a sudden screeching halt. The perp was catapulted over the handlebars as if he had been shot out of a cannon. He flew a good ten feet in the air and landed with a dull thud.

  It’s funny what pops into your mind during times of stress, but there it was, thanks to the professor and his muse:

  “Man who fly upside down have big crack up.”

  Go figure.

  “All right, we got him,” I exclaimed as I rushed toward him with cuffs ready. But just as I was in reach, he pulled himself to his feet and took off on the run.

  Now I’m no slouch when it comes to running. When I was a kid, I discovered you’ve gotta be fast when you only weigh 120 pounds, but I soon discovered I had lost a little something in the last forty years. This kid, about a third my age, was gaining ground on me fast. I did a quick mental calculation, remembering that my taser wires had a range of fifteen feet. I knew I had one shot. I whipped out my Benford #5 on the run, pointed, and fired. I saw the probes leap forward and bury themselves firmly in the perp’s butt c
heeks. He went rigid, then limp, and hit the ground face first with a sickening thud.

  I rushed up to extract the taser probes, and I noticed his butt was quivering like a bowl of Jell-O.

  I cuffed his hands behind his back and rolled him over. His hood dropped away. I saw his face for the first time and realized this was the kid that tackled the old lady in the Supermarket parking lot and had initiated my quest to become a cop.

  Sweet justice!

  Willie rushed up to me, took a look at the perp writhing on the ground, and a big grin spread across his face. We gave each other a high five.

  We dropped Willie off at the apartment then took the perp to the station and booked him in. We decided it might be best to not mention Willie to Captain Short.

  When I got home that evening, Willie was again waiting for me on the front steps. He had a plastic bag from the shirt shop on his lap. He proudly handed me the bag. I pulled out two shirts with these words emblazoned in bold red letters:

  OLD GUYS RULE!

  “Oh, Lord, what have I done?”

  CHAPTER 7

  After just two days, it became quite apparent that my new career was taking its toll on my sixty-five-year-old body.

  Realtors don’t climb corral fences and sprint after fleeing felons, and as fit as I was for my age, I was feeling the hurt.

  But as they say, “no pain, no gain.”

  I knew that I would need to spend more time at Mel’s and less in my own kitchen if I was going to get the proper nourishment.

  They also say, “Man does not live by bread alone.”

  As youngsters, we scrape our elbows and skin our knees, and if we’re lucky, like I was, there will be a mom or grandmother to kiss it and make it feel better.

  Just because we grow older doesn’t mean that we grow out of that basic need.

  I was hurting, and I knew exactly who could help make it all go away.

  I have a sweetie. Her name is Margaret McBride. I call her Maggie. We worked together at the real estate office before I retired.

  Besides being my sweetie, she was also my main competition at the office. She is a spunky gal of Irish ancestry with fiery red hair and a personality to match. She is my age but just not quite ready to hang up the old briefcase. She really enjoys her work, and the pay is pretty darn good for a sixty-six-year-old.

  Maggie was skeptical when I left the real estate office. Knowing me as she did, she just couldn’t see me in retirement.

  I guess she knew me better than I knew myself.

  Most women I know, when confronted with the idea that their retired boyfriend wanted to become a cop, would have hit the roof.

  But not my Maggie.

  She was supportive all the way.

  The reason our relationship works is that we both understand the demands of our profession. Realtors and cops have a lot in common. Both professions have activities and schedules that a normal person just doesn’t understand unless they’ve been there and done that. In fact, realtors and cops are among the professions with the highest divorce rate. Hmm.

  If only guys would pay attention to the wisdom of the old masters. I heard the professor once say, “Man who fight with girlfriend all day get no piece at night.”

  Sage advice!

  We enjoy doing things together. We both like movies, the theatre, dancing, and eating out.

  I decided to give her a call.

  “Hey, Maggie. It’s your handsome lover.”

  “Which one?”

  You gotta love her sense of humor.

  “Your favorite one.”

  “Oh. Hi, Bill.”

  “Very funny. Any chance you could spare some time with an old man?”

  “I don’t normally consort with the aged.”

  “Would you make an exception in my case?”

  “Say please.”

  “Please.”

  “Now pretty please with sugar on it.”

  “Hey! How come you’re busting my chops?”

  “Sorry. I’m just bored. You’ve been so busy with your new job. I just miss you.”

  “Well, I’m here now. Would my famous tuna casserole, a bottle of Arbor Mist, and an evening of mad, passionate love entice you to come to my place?”

  “Well, the casserole and the wine sound pretty good. Two out of three’s not bad.”

  “Maggie!”

  “Just kidding. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  I’m certainly no Wolfgang Puck, but I do make one mean tuna casserole. I threw the thing in the oven and tidied up the apartment.

  Maggie was right on time.

  We hadn’t been together for several days, and over dinner, I told her about my exploits as Kansas City’s newest recruit.

  I might have also mentioned that I could certainly use some TLC.

  Maggie and I really enjoy our time together. I would categorize our intimate moments more as playful than erotic. No rough stuff.

  After our wonderful meal, we were both feeling pretty mellow, but I could see Maggie was distracted.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “Business has been a little slow the past few days, and I just feel guilty being here and not out showing property,” she replied.

  “Well,” I said, “if you’re determined to wear your realtor hat this evening, how about me being your client? I’m sure you have some things I might want to see.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Something warm and comfortable and fairly easy to get into,” I replied.

  She grinned, and I knew she was getting the hint. “I think I might have just the thing for you,” she said. “It has a nice firm foundation, and there are a pair of balconies on the second floor with a great view.

  “Wow, sounds great,” I said. “How do I go about getting in?”

  “Whoa! Not so fast, Buster. I have to prequalify you before I can let you in. What kind of down payment are you talking about here?”

  “Well, I don’t have a huge down payment, but what I have is hard cash. And I believe my assets are sufficient to meet your needs.”

  With that, she slipped off her top. “Well, how do you like the view so far?”

  “Not bad,” I replied. “Lovely view of the mountains from here.”

  “Then are you ready to make an offer?”

  “Not quite. What kind of buyer would I be if I didn’t do my due diligence? I never make an offer without a whole house inspection. And I must warn you, my inspections are very thorough.”

  “And it’s my duty as your agent to inform you of any issues you should be aware of,” she replied. “In the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you there’s definitely moisture in the basement.”

  With that encouragement, I slid my hand up her skirt.

  “Ah yes,” I said. “Definitely moist, but I don’t think this will be a deal breaker.”

  She suddenly drew back. “Have you thought about insurance?”

  “I believe I’m fully covered,” I replied.

  “Well, I think we may be ready to move forward,” she said.

  “First, I need to know if there’s a warranty with this transaction.”

  “Oh yeah,” she replied, “I guarantee you will be completely satisfied!”

  Later that night we closed escrow.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next morning at roll call Captain Short congratulated us for the second day in a row. With the apprehension of the Gillham Park mugger, word had spread through the precinct that Ox and I had made two good busts in two days. We were now being playfully dubbed “The Dynamic Duo.”

  Swell.

  I was feeling pretty smug as we rolled out of the parking lot in our old Crown Vic. I was trying not to let our recent success go to my head, but I had to admit that I was feeling pretty cocky.

  I had to smile when another of the Professor’s witticisms popped into my mind.

  “Man with hole in pocket feel cocky all day.”

  Ox
sensed my jovial mood. “Pretty excited about your new career?”

  “Well, sure! Things have gone way better that I expected.”

  “I don’t want to burst your bubble, but these last two days have been the exception rather than the rule.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I’m saying is that some days you’re the pigeon and some days you’re the statue. These last two days we’ve been the pigeons, but you also have to be ready for those days when you’re the statue.”

  “What you’re telling me is that the good guys don’t always win.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s the real world. Things aren’t always as neat and tidy as the last two days. I thought you should know --- just in case.”

  Just then the radio came to life.

  “Car 54. What’s your location?”

  “Heading south on Main. Just passed 39th.”

  “Proceed to Loose Park Lake. Joggers have reported something suspicious floating in the water.”

  “On our way.”

  By the time we pulled into the parking lot, a crowd was starting to gather around the lakeshore.

  We pushed our way through and saw the unmistakable form of a nude body floating face down in the water.

  Ox took charge immediately.

  “All of you! Back away now! This is a crime scene and we must secure the area.”

  Reluctantly, the group of gawkers moved away from the lake.

  “Walt, call this in. Tell them to send the M.E. and notify homicide.”

  I made the call and twenty minutes later, the park was crawling with cops, detectives and guys from the Medical Examiner’s office.

  As I watched the men in waders pull the body to the shore, I could feel the bile rising in my throat.

  This was my first corpse and I definitely hadn’t been prepared for the experience. What I was witnessing was way beyond a mugger snatching purses in a park.

  When the guys in waders lifted the bloated body and placed it face up on a stretcher, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach.

  I was staring into the blank, lifeless eyes of an old friend, Nancy Duncan!