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NOT AN AMERICAN

Page 44

by Stanley W Rogouski


  Sullivan still hesitated. He scratched his head, took a deep breath, paced around, scratched his head again, then leaned back down on the desk. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  "OK," he finally said, extending his hand, "Take me to the monster's cage."

  "Let's go," Catalinelli said decisively.

  Getting to the monster's cage, however, proved more easily said than done. The old courtroom was on the same level as The Dungeon, but it was still on the opposite side of the building, and still required a very long walk down a corridor full of people. Even if the crowd now surging through City Hall did part when they recognized Sullivan and Catalinelli, there was very little room for them to move, and the efforts to make it easier for the pair to move only wound up making it more difficult. When they finally reached the old courtroom, they found that it was as packed with angry people as the rest of the Reagan Center, but none of them seemed to have thought about trying the door behind the judge's chair. Deneen had, in the meantime, wisely chosen to retreat behind the iron gate. He jumped with fright when Catalinelli opened the door for Randy Sullivan, and they stepped into the vestibule, but he opened the iron gate when he recognized the mayor, quickly slamming it when the two men stepped into the old hallway.

  "I just stayed here sir," Deneen said. "I had no idea what to do."

  "You did the right thing," Catalinelli said. "Have you seen Detective Muffley?"

  "Detective Muffley wisely decided to stay put when the ruckus started."

  "Good job Peter," Catalinelli said, "you miserable little coward," he added under his breath.

  "I haven't seen him since he went inside with the nun."

  "The nun?" Catalinelli said. "The nun?

  "She was on the approved list of clergy. I'm pretty sure he thought she was a plant from that fat redneck jackass Randy Sullivan."

  "Nun?" Sullivan said. "That's news to me."

  Deneen blushed.

  "Nothing personal about that fat redneck jackass remark," he said.

  "What's this with a nun?" Sullivan said.

  "There was a nun," Deneen said. "Muffley let her in to visit Avellanos."

  "I didn't think Avellanos was Catholic," Catalinelli said.

  "Supposedly she's a shrink," Deneen said, "but she looked kind of young to me. That's what I told Muffley. I guess Donahue's down there too. His relief never showed up. Neither did mine. I guess they couldn't get through the crowd but nobody's cell phone is working."

  Catalinelli took a deep breath and expelled it.

  "Let's go," he said to Randy Sullivan. "We'll sort it out when we get down there."

  The two men proceeded down the hall. Randy Sullivan seemed impressed by how obscure the holding cell was.

  "You certainly made it hard for anyone to find him?" he said when they reached the old archives. "This is like a haunted mansion."

  "There are twists and turns to this old building only I know," Catalinelli said. "You are inside the old county jail," he added. "They rebuilt that part as an archive," he continued, pointing right, "and kept this as a holding cell," he added, pointing to the left.

  Catalinelli opened the door and the two men walked down the staircase. But when the came to the entrance to the cell block, they not only found Donahue absent from his desk but, that they had no way of continuing down into the suite of cells. Catalinelli searched through the desk, then through his own keys, but was unable to find anything that could open the heavy door.

  "What's going on here Mike?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine."

  "You can't get in?"

  Catalinelli tried to call Devanny on his cell phone but found that the network was still down. He led Sullivan back upstairs to Deneen, but was informed that Muffley had not given him a copy of the keys to the holding cells. Only Muffley, Devanny and Donahue, who was supposed to have been at his desk, had them.

  "Well it is good policy not to spread too many keys around," Catalinelli said. "Stay here," he added, "or go downstairs. The prisoner's not going anywhere."

  Catalinelli pushed his way back up through the old courtroom to the first office he could find, tried one of the landlines, but found out they were down. He tried a walkie-talkie that he had borrowed from a uniformed officer, but could not get through to Devanny. Finally, he pushed on back to Poison Springs Metro Police Headquarters, found Devanny, get keys for the old holding cell and pushed his way back to the old courtroom. Sullivan was pacing angrily when he got back.

  "I thought you ran away," he said to Catalinelli, who opened the door and led Sullivan down to the cell block.

  Catalinelli's mouth hung open when he saw the two men in what should have been the holding cell for John Avellanos. Sullivan actually smiled, looking at the tall young man sitting next to Donahue.

  "Well at least you've got him in an orange jumpsuit," he roared with approval. "Where's the nun?"

  "That's not John Avellanos," Catalinelli said.

  Chapter 58 - Don’t Look Back

  Cathy Chegoffgan and John Avellanos had waited on the Amtrak not for 30 minutes, but for over an hour. They breathed a sigh of relief when it finally began to move. Cathy Chegoffgan, who had already brushed off repeated entreaties by Avellanos that they leave the train, squeezed his hand, turned and smiled when it emerged from the tunnel and began to makes its way down the tracks that ran parallel to Reagan Plaza North. That's when they heard the announcement.

  "Due to a civic disturbance this train will be going express," the voice said. "The next stop is Cleveland, Ohio."

  Avellanos reached over and took the handcuffs off her wrist.

  "What are you doing? Do you want to blow our cover?"

  "That conductor didn't get on the train. They'll be looking for Muffley, not me."

  "What do they mean by a civic disturbance?"

  "They mean that," Avellanos said, pointing to a column of smoke that was rising from City Hall.

  "Oh my God," she said, staring out the window. "Oh my God."

  Avellanos craned his neck to get a better look, but he found it difficult to move. The train wasn't crowded, but everybody it seemed had gathered near their window. They got up, and moved to the other side. She put her head on his shoulder. They held hands.

  "I hope Muffley got out of that building."

  “He tried to ruin your life."

  "He's a cop. That's his job. I hope George told my mom I'm still alive. I wish I had my cell phone. I have no idea what's going on."

  "It's probably better that way, at least until we get away."

  "We got away," she said as the train continued west.

  “Do you remember what happened to Lots wife?" Avellanos said.

  "In the Bible?"

  “Yes."

  "She turned into a pillar of salt."

  "Don't look back," he said as she looked at the flames engulf the clock tower of the Reagan Center. "Don't look back."

 

 

 


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