In Love and Law

by Drake Koefoed

  “I do, Clara. Earlier today, I filed as a candidate for District Attorney.”

  “Rumor had it that you might. What made you decide?”

  “Someone hired a private investigator, who spread a false rumor that I had been disloyal to my princess with Marcie Della. I did a photography job with Marcie, for a very fine shoe company, Phillipa. I did not have sex with Marcie, as much fun as that probably would be. I’ve known Marcie since she was about 16, starting out in modeling. This private investigator told his lies to my princess. That, you just do not do. I think I know who did it, and I intend to put him out of work.”

  “Who is your princess?” “I decline to state. She didn’t start this, and she will not finish it.” “Is it true that you were a Marine sniper?” “It is.”

  “And that you were a company commander, a Captain, in the Marines?”

  “That is also true.”

  “And is it also true that you have a silver star?”

  “I have some silver dollars, and some walking liberty halves. I do have some military medals. Ma’am, my lunch is probably getting cold. Thank you for your interest in the election.”

  He went back inside, and they ate.

  Jeff looked at Will. “You really have a silver star?”

  “You know Cracker Jack.”

  Chrissie gave an odd look. “There is so much that isn’t getting told here.”

  “I told you I had no secrets from you, Chrissie, but it doesn’t mean you need to know everything.”

  “A very finely drawn distinction.”

  “We’re lawyers.”

  “This might lead to black ops.”

  “Oh, of course not.” Marie looked at Will. “What’s a black op?”

  “Remember in Men in Black, where the introduction says the file that doesn’t exist, about something that didn’t happen? A black op is something that wasn’t done for an agency that doesn’t exist by people who were never there.”

  “You did those.”

  “Of course not. There is actually no such thing, and the agency you’re talking about does not exist. I wasn’t there. I have no idea what you’re talking about. The Government of the United States, GUS for short, doesn’t do things like that, wouldn’t do things like that, never did, and would not be able to anyway.”

  “I see.”

  Chrissie asked, “Could someone with little in the way of principles use something like that to discredit someone who wasn’t there?”

  “That would be a really stupid thing to do. You could meet all kinds of people who could neither confirm nor deny that the sky is blue. And if there were such people, who were there, speaking hypothetically, some of them might be real mean. And hypothetically, someone like that might have assets in Special Forces or the Seals or maybe someone you’ve never heard of. Maybe even the Wayfarers, if they existed, which of course they do not. And something unpleasant might happen, hypothetically.” “We’d better get over to the auction.” “Everyone ready?”

  Will paid the bill, and Marie collected the cattables. The waitress gave her some extras. They got in the van, and went to the auction.

  Jeff picked out a pot bellied man with grey hair. “Stan, can we use a check from Channel 2 to buy a car?”

  “Your word is good for ten grand, Jeff .”

  “I’m wanting something for this young lady to drive, clean up and sell, and we do it again next week.”

  Stan nodded. “You see that orange International tow truck over there? I could put it down the lane and get four for it. This girl wants to go into business and work hard, she should have a tow truck. $2500 cash right now, do it or don’t.”

  Jeff and Marie went to the truck to drive it around the track, try the brakes and all.

  “You’re William Ames. I’m Stan Ikes. I own the auction. Jeff has three drivers. So you want three more cars, uh?”

  “We might.”

  “Got to be on Jeff ’s account. That girl wants to wash cars and change oil and stuff, she should buy Gates and Son used cars. The bankruptcy trustee would take $5,000 for the lot. The cars are all seized by an inventory loan. After we get done selling cars, we call and see.”

  Jeff and Marie came in. “Hank, can you finance the 1500 she doesn’t have?”

  “Done.”

  They went out and drove some cars. Jeff made a list of the ones he wanted to bid on. They went inside, and cars started coming down the lanes, Stan auctioning them himself. He spoke clearly and firmly, no ‘bedeebedob’ in it. A Toyota pickup came down. “Hank, can I go two thousand on this one for you?”

  “Yep.”

  “So this nice little Toy truck. Do I hear a thousand to start?”

  “You do.” Jeff said.

  “Do I hear $1500?”

  A dealer nodded. Jeff held up two fingers.

  “I have $2,000. I have $2,100.”

  Hank whispered “I’ll go 3 if you think I should.”

  Jeff held up two fingers.

  “I have $2,200 from Mr. Allen.”

  The other dealer shrugged.

  “I can’t get $2,300 for this nice little truck? Once. Twice. Sold. In lane one, we have an Impala. Good transportation car. Who wants to sell this car?”

  Nobody answered.

  “I’ll take $200.”

  Marie whispered. “Hank, can we buy that car? Jeff , should we?”

  Hank nodded, and Jeff gestured with his hand.

  “Sold.”

  They sold some more cars, Marie wired up by the action. Jeff smiled at her. She loved the car business. He was going to make her an expert at it.

  A 1965 mustang came in. The bids were small, and the seller reserved it. Chrissie whispered in Jeff ’s ear. “That car won’t go for $2,000? It’s a 289 Mustang! I want that car, Jeff .”

  Jeff waved to the seller. He pointed at the seller, Chrissie, and himself, and then to his lips. The seller smiled and nodded. “He’ll talk to us later, Chrissie.”

  Some more cars went through. A ten wheel dumper pulled in. “I didn’t see this truck, Jeff .”

  “Just another truck.”

  Nobody would go the starting price of $5,000. Jeff waved to the seller, who came over. “Freddie, my buddy wants that thing. Anything wrong with it?”

  “Nah. It goes, it stops, it dumps, it’s ugly and just about wore out. I'll sell it 10% nothing down but I hold you up for a thousand.”

  “What will it take?”

  “Here and now? Five.”

  “If you really want a dumper, Will, he’s making you a very good offer.”

  “Hey, let me open the hood, Jeff .”

  He did so. “Know this mill, Will?”

  “An International 549.”

  “Air brakes. Sunstrand hydraulics. Very seldom does someone try to cut you off in traffic. Gets about 8 miles to the gallon. Two axle drive. In low range it climbs trees. Five on the floor Clarke. If you want an old dumper, you want this one.”

  “Deal.”

  “My son Jeff will drive one of your cars home for $20. I will pick him up.”

  “That sets us up.” “Your wife can take the tow truck, but she can’t tow. And even Jeff does not have a CDL.” “You know a lot of things.” “I know who hired the P.I. to take your picture with Marcie Della, too. The same god damned son of a bitch you think did it. I can prove it, but you would be touching something poisonous if I showed it to you.”

  “It will forever remain a mystery to me.”

  They took the cars back to the house. They parked them all around, with the dump truck in the back. Marie put the Toyota in the driveway to wash it. The next door neighbor came over. “I’m Ethan. I live in the yellow house. I know you’re William Ames. I thought you were a lawyer. What’s with the cars?”

  “My niece, Marie is going to be a car dealer. This is Jeff , her sales manager.”

  “I’m in need of a car. Mine just died. Do you have one to sell?”

  Jeff started to speak, but Marie held up her hand. “You can have
that Impala for 600. It starts, it stops. I was going to clean it up a little.”

  “Can I drive it around the block?”

  She handed him the key. “Take it through the car wash on second street. I would like to sell you a clean car.” She handed him a $5 bill. He took off.

  Jeff was on the phone. “They want us to look at the car lot real soon. “

  “Within the hour?”

  Ethan came back with the Impala.

  “I want it. I only have $400.”

  “Got a trade with a title?”

  “It doesn’t run.”

  “I have a tow truck. My uncle has a Class A CDL with air brakes endorsement. He can drive anything with wheels under it. That’s the trade there, the green Nova?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeff nodded.

  “Give me four bills cash, and Jeff will do the paperwork. You’re an owner.”

  He went to his house.

  “You’ve seen the lot, Jeff . I buy it if I can?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hank, will you help me”

  “Sure,”

  “Will, If I buy the lot today we can incorporate tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “So Jeff stays here and makes his first of many commissions I will be paying him, and you guys go to the lot with me?”

  “Fine.”

  “We’ll take the tow truck. That says we are real car people. I would like to show up in an 18 wheel car carrier, but I don’t have that yet. The dumper is too blue collar.”

  They drove onto the lot. The cars were already gone. They went into a ratty trailer. “Is the trailer part of the property you are selling?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “You have the property description?”

  She looked at it as if she knew what it said. Will looked over her shoulder. “The lady in a hurry is Marie Estofan. She is in a number of lines of business. I am William Ames, general counsel. This is Hank, the Chairman.”

  “OK, the title goes to the street corner, the alley in back, and that fence?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “It’s just what I want. I understand you’re asking five. I can close in 30 minutes at four and a half.”

  “That’s pretty low.”

  “I’m a hard ass businesschick.” “I can take $4,500.” “Let’s go to the bank and the recorder’s office then.” They went, and everyone sort of stepped aside for hurricane Marie. She got a certified check, and then hit the recorder’s office at 190 knots, signed and recorded her documents, and went back to Will’s office where they incorporated, paying the fee with a credit card. Will bought a kit from Corporation Kits Northwest, so she would have a corporate seal and all. He knew she would like that. Will stayed and did some paperwork and returned some calls.

  Several hours later, he came out, and two men in ski masks confronted him with baseball bats. He shot them both, and got in his car and drove to the harbor, where he threw the .357 as far as he could. He also threw a box of ammo. He went back to the house. The next morning, he went to a gun show and bought three Mossberg pump shotguns in 12 gauge, a 20 gauge Remington automatic shotgun, a 3” Smith .357 in Stainless, a Glock compact 9mm, a Smith .44 mag L frame, a .38 air weight, and a lot of ammunition.

  He went back to the house. He put his new .357 in his holster and got back in bed. It was Saturday, and Chrissie was not getting up early. Eventually he did, and took a shower, and made some coffee.

  The doorbell rang, and the Codfish was there with two uniforms behind him.

  “Will, can I have your .357?”

  “Sure. Why do you want it, Mel?”

  “To check ‘ballistics’.”

  “It’s in a small of the back holster.”

  “Just hand it to me. We don’t need to play that crap.”

  Will slowly took the piece out of the holster, and handed it to Mel.

  “A couple of scumbags got blown away with a .38/.357 last night. They had baseball bats, and I naturally think justifiable homicide, but the shooter is not talking.”

  “If it’s a justifiable homicide, no crime has been committed.”

  The female officer giggled.

  “You can see the department is very upset by these two shitbags being blown away.”

  “Yes. I understand that. Keeping the peace and all that.”

  “Well, we saw how this shooter got two head shots, and we have an ear witness who says the shots were almost simultaneous, and we thought of you.”

  “I’m not as good a shooter as people think.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  .“It would be real hard to imagine what people would think, and he is not that good. He can clip a guy at 2000 yards, and he can pull a gun so fast you don’t know where it came from. We had to think of him, but this gun’s not going to match. We’ll eliminate him and see what comes up. You are free to go, Mr. Ames.” They walked down to the street

  Chapter 6; Thunder clouds on the horizon Musical Theme; One Heart by karyn white

  Will gathered them at the table. “We’ve been threatened.” “And you bought guns.” “Yes, Chrissie, I bought guns. We’re going up to the hills to do some shooting.”

  He got on the phone and called Mel. “I want carry permits for Marie and Hank. Well, if you can. Thanks.”

  He loaded a bunch of milk jugs and stuff in the car. They headed for the hills.

  When they got to the shooting spot, he put on some latex gloves. He wiped the guns clean, and put them on the roof of the car on a blanket. “You leave your piece loaded when you finish cleaning it. You always use gloves. If you get into a shoot, you do not have fingerprints on the cases.”

  “This Glock nine is for Chrissie. The compact model. The holster is for the small of the back, but you’ll want some others.”

  “The air weight is for Marie, but until your permit comes, you can’t carry it in your pocket. For Hank, we go to the Dirty Harry piece, a Smith .44 Mag.” “Our home defense hardware is the shotguns. Marie has a 20 gauge because she is kind of small for a 12 gauge. There is very little difference between getting shot with a 12 or a 20. Inside a house, the wad hardly unloads the shot anyway. Be careful with this thing, Marie.” He laid out a line with fireplace ashes. “Nobody steps across this line when we are firing, and nobody fires with the muzzle on our side of the line. No exceptions. Four rules. Do not load your weapon until you are ready to fire. Since our home defense guns are always ready, they are always loaded. Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire. Keep your muzzle pointed in a safe direction. Know your target and what is behind it. Is everyone happy with these rules?” They all said “Yes, Sir.”

  “Does anyone have a round in the chamber?”

  They opened their chambers.

  “I don’t know how this works.” Marie complained.

  “Do you want a 12 gauge?”

  “Yeah.”

  He handed her one. “I do not have a round in the chamber.”

  “I got you a 20 because you’re little, Marie. This 20 is a for real firearm. I’m going to show you.” He loaded it, and held it out like a pistol, blasting a milk jug, then shooting it again in the air, and then four more times. He heard a car come to a stop behind them. He put the shotgun on the car roof.

  Mel got out of the car. He put the .357 on the car roof. “No match. This belongs to you, Mr. Mather.” “Thank you, Marshal Earp.” “Who is ‘Mr. Mather?’”

  “There was a famous Marshal called mysterious Dave Mather, Marie. Mel is playing Virgil Earp for us.”

  “Who is Wyatt Earp, then?”

  “He’s not here at the moment. Hank is Doc Holliday.”

  “Who are Chrissie and I?”

  “Well, one of you might be Calamity Jane. Virgil doesn’t know. He is pretty sure I am Charles Goodnight, but there is the chance that I’m Johnnie Ringo.”

  “I thought you were Dave Mather.”

  “Now you understand how hard it is being Virgil Earp.” />
  “I came up here by myself, Will. I’m not too real worried.” “Want to play with our toys?” “Nah. Well, yeah, the little Remington shotgun.” Will handed it to him, and some ammo. “I will never be able to do what I just saw you do.” “I will probably never know how to find someone like you found us.” “I’m a detective. I detect.” “You sure as hell do.” He pushed shells into the Remington. “I like Remington.” “Me, Too. Marie didn’t take to it because the others got 12 gauges. She’s so little, I thought she would be better with the 20.”

  “She would be. The automatic being smoother and having less recoil, but it tosses almost the same amount of lead as the 12. Does she know it costs as much as all three of those Mossburgs?”

  He blasted the milk jugs, firing rapidly. “Nice piece.” He set it on the car roof.

  “Why is the family out here with a bunch of guns? You and Hank would be a couple of jarheads out shooting. These ladies don’t like guns. They are here because they feel threatened. By whom, and why shouldn’t I know? Two punks got smoked yesterday. I would like to close that. If someone threatened someone, I would like to know. I can tell you from NCIC that we will not miss the punks. But who did they attack, and why? Could it be some nice people who just bought a lot of guns? We do try to protect the good people in our Metro.”

  “Someone could be threatened by persons unknown.”

  “And be afraid of the cops, to even tell them what happened?”

  “It might be like that.”

  Mel checked the loads in the .44 Smith. He rested his forearm on the car roof, and blasted a milk jug. Then he fired 5 more rounds just under it, bouncing it around. He ejected the brass into the bucket by the car, and set the revolver on the roof of the car with the cylinder open.

  “You don’t give me anything to work with. You told what’s her cuteness that you don’t believe in vigilante justice, but we want to look into this, and you cut us off.”

  “Hank, show them what to do, let them do some shooting. I need to talk to Will.”

  Will and Mel walked down the road a bit, and sat on a log. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Fuck you can’t. No reports. I don’t tell anyone. Yeah, that’s illegal. Fuck the law; we are doing justice now. Here comes justice.”