Monsters and Lollipops

by Franklin D. Lincoln

Liz was up a nine the next morning. Deb had already left for work. She had left a note saying that Morris Wong had fired her for leaving so abruptly, but as usual she would report to work and Morris would take her back as he did every other time he had fired her.

  Liz’s neck and her back hurt like the devil and her vision was still a bit blurred, but she could at least move and get around, although she had to relegate herself to a wheelchair for the day.

  She had had a fitful night’s sleep and she had awakened exhausted. Her dreams had been muddled with random flashes of light and darkness permeating her brain with occasional flashes of an intruder approaching her bed in the middle of the night and of a crumpled body in a pool of blood on a living room floor.

  There were children in Halloween costumes in her doorway shouting trick or treat and a witch’s pale white skeletal face rising above the throng of children with arms extended and hands with long spindly fingers and sharp nails reaching for her throat.

  Then she was running naked through a dark city street with good legs that needed no assistance from a cane. Then she had a rain coat flapping open around her. She tried to pull her coat together and zip it up, but the zipper was stuck. Joe came staggering out of the dark; his head a bloody mess. He disappeared and Scooby Doo danced in front of her eyes.

  Then darkness moved in and deep sleep settled over her until she awoke with the morning sun streaming through her bedroom window.

  Now as she wheeled herself to the counter where coffee was brewing, she was thinking about calling Celia Parks. She poured her coffee and started to drink it without wheeling to the kitchen table.

  She sipped at the hot brew. It was still too hot and it tasted bitter. Liz knew it was her and not the coffee. Deb knew how to brew coffee perfectly. She set the cup on the counter, then turned her chair and rolled into the living room. Sissy

  Boom Boom raised her head from her pillow and waged her tail as Liz came near her.

  Liz retrieved the handheld from the coffee table and punched in Celia’s number.

  The phone rang several times, before a sleepy voice sounded from the other end.

  “Celia? This is Liz. Did I wake you?”

  “No. No. I was just waking up. Just lying there trying to decide if it was worth getting up.”

  “Listen, Celia. At the hospital, there was a nurse there. You knew her last name but you weren’t sure about the first.”

  “Yes. I only knew her by her name tag. It said N. Taylor. I just assumed it might be Nancy, but Michael talked to her and he said her name was Natalie. Why?”

  “I think I saw her right here in Mandalyn,” Liz said.

  “What would she be doing there?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Thanks a bunch.” She pressed the hang up button, excitedly. Then she punched in another number and listened for the ringing at the other end. Ben MacCready came on.

  “Mac? This is Liz. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “And I’ve got something to tell you too.”

  “Hello, Martin?” Liz asked even though she recognized Callan’s voice when he answered.” This is Liz Porelli.”

  “Yes Liz. How are you?”

  Liz ignored the niceties of polite greetings.” Martin. Deb told me all about yesterday. I need to talk to you alone.” Without pausing she continued.” Deb won’t be here tonight. Could you come over?”

  “Sure Liz,” he said in his most pleasant voice.” I’ll be glad to.” He didn’t even bother to ask what it was all about. He smiled smugly to himself as he hung up.

  It was dark when Martin Callan showed up at Liz’s house. She greeted him cordially and invited him in and ushered him to a chair in the living room. She was well enough now to be using her cane.

  Sissy Boom Boom growled lowly in her throat and jumped out of her chair, scampering off to the kitchen. Liz sat down across from him.” Deb told you about my problem,” Liz said getting straight to the point.

  “You mean about the money?” He asked carefully.

  “Yes. I understand you can help me.” Liz stared expectantly into his eyes.

  He fidgeted,” Why do you say that?”

  Liz ignored the question.” I think it’s time that I use that money.”

  “You know where Joe got it, then?” He sounded a bit skeptical but there was a trace of excitement rising in his voice.

  “Of course, I do. Joe told me everything.” She kept her tone level, trying to hide any trace of uneasiness or fear.

  Callan’s face turned gray. This was just what he had been afraid of.

  “You know where he got it, too. You’ve always been questioning me about my finances.”

  The gray in Callan’s cheeks turned to red as anger began to rise.” Yes,” he almost growled it out.” And I want it back.” He stood up and towered over her. Liz tried not to tremble.

  “That’s not possible,” Liz said flatly.

  “Oh, yes it is. If you want to go on living.”

  “So,” Liz said.” It was you all along trying to kill me. First at the hospital and then breaking in. I suppose you broke into Lew Drum’s house and killed Marlee too. Just to make it look good.”

  “Oh, no,” Callan sneered.” I didn’t have anything to do with those breakins. I didn’t kill Marlee Drum and I didn’t have anything to do with what happened at the hospital.”

  “I know about you and Doctor Blakeney,” Liz said, pushing it just a bit.

  “Yeah, you may know about that, but that doesn’t mean that either of us had anything to do with that woman’s death. You might want to ask your friend about that. Everything got screwed up when that bitch of his put poison in the bag.”

  “Poison? So how do you know that?”

  “They found traces of it in the bag. We couldn’t have a murder investigation going on, so Blakeney covered it up.”

  “Why did anyone want to poison me?”

  “You dumb broad,” Callan chided.” I thought you knew something here. It wasn’t meant for you in the first place.” Then he changed his tone.” Now are you going to give me my money back or do you become another victim of an intruder?”

  Liz had lost her composure by now and she was trembling. She felt dizzy and her vision was blurring.” Deb told you, I can’t get to it.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you just couldn’t use it.”

  “That’s right. I can’t.”

  “Well then where is it?”

  “In a trust fund. I’ve told you that before.”

  Callan clenched his fists with rage.” What the hell do you mean a trustfund? Why the hell do you need to launder it then. ?”

  “I didn’t say that’s what I wanted to do.”

  “Then what the hell did you call me over here for?”

  “To find out for sure, that’s what you and Blakeney were doing. From what you’re saying I guess it is true. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know how you found it out. Who else knows about it?”

  “Well, you know I wouldn’t tell Deb. For sure everyone would know about it by now.”

  “In that case, then,” Martin Callan moved closer, raising his huge hands reaching for Liz’s throat.” M. S. isn’t going to bother you anymore.”

  “Before you do it, Martin,” Liz said in a shaky voice.” I just want to tell you where Joe got the money.”

  “Like I said. I know that. He stole it from me.” His fingers were curling around her throat. Liz shivered and wriggle in her chair; her body sinking into the plush back of her overstuffed chair.

  “No he didn’t!” Her voice was raspy as the fingers tightened.” He won it off a horse called Vivatar.”

  Callan’s grasp relaxed a bit, then he went at her with more strength.” You bitch,” he growled.

  Liz’s eyelids closed and she began to choke. Her mouth came open and her tongue tried to escape over her teeth. A man’s voice sounded muffled in her ears.


  “Let her go, Martin!”

  Callan leaned back, slackening his grip some as he looked over his shoulder and saw Ben MacCready standing in the hallway; his Gloch police pistol thrust forward with two hands and his feet braced in a shooting stance. He had been in Liz’s bedroom listening. Waiting for the right moment to show himself.

  “Let her go, or I’ll shoot you dead, where you stand.” The Police Chief repeated. His eyes were glaring.

  Callan released his grip, straightened up and stepped away from Liz, raising his hands. Liz was rubbing her throat and her voice was raspy. She chided,” Why didn’t you wait a little longer, Ben? He just might’ve finished the job.”

  “Just wanted to give him enough a chance to spill everything,” Ben said. Then to Callan he said,” You want to tell us about Shirley Robbins, now?”

  “Tell you what?” Callan sneered.” I’m not telling you anything until I talk to my attorney. My lips are zipped. You can’t prove a thing.”

  All zipped up Liz thought to herself as she listened to MacCready read Callan his rights. She should have thought about it before. Perhaps she had, without realizing it, for somehow she had realized it. She had noticed it. She remembered her dream of the night before. The raincoat with the broken zipper.

 

  *****

  Chapter Thirty