Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “I’ve seen that,” I said, “And I always wondered why it was hanging there. Now I know. You weren’t thinking of hiring me on as some sort of night watchman, were you? At my rates, that could end up costing you more than the equipment is worth.”

  “Not exactly,” Dad said. “I was telling Joe here about all that new surveillance equipment you just got and we were both wondering if you could use that in this case.”

  “Right,” Joe said. “A couple of inconspicuous camera placed around the jobsite could help us catch those bastards.”

  I thought about it for a moment and said, “Sounds good in theory, but it’s a big job site with a lot of areas to cover. I have a dozen mini cams, but that wouldn’t even cover one of your sites and there are a lot of blind spots besides. Have you thought about guard dogs?”

  “I had one,” Joe said. “They stole him, too.”

  “Hold on a minute,” I said. “I might just have something that could help you in this situation.”

  “Anything,” Joe said. “I’m desperate. What have you got?”

  “I just added a couple of new pieces to my arsenal,” I said. “In fact, I have one of them with me.” I reached into my pocket and withdrew something that looked like a metal pencil eraser. I held it in the flat of my hand so Joe could get a good look at it.”

  “What is it?” Joe said.

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “I haven’t even see this thing yet myself. What have you got there, Elliott?”

  I looked at Dad and Joe and said, “Do me a favor. Both of you turn around and face the wall for a minute.”

  “Huh?” Dad said.

  “Never mind,” I said. “Just do it. I’ll explain in a minute.”

  Dad and Joe turned away from me and I got out of my chair, looked around the room and spotted a shelf on the other end of the trailer. I walked over and put the little metal eraser gadget up on the shelf and came back to where Dad and Joe was still standing with their faces to the wall.

  “All right, turn around,” I said, pulling another gadget from my coat pocket. It was about the size of a book of matches. “I hid that little gadget that I just had in my hand somewhere in this trailer. See if you can find it, Joe.”

  Joe did a cursory scan of the inside of the trailer and turned to me. “It could be anywhere,” he said. “I don’t have a clue where you put it.”

  I handed Joe the matchbook-size gadget. I turned it on and it beeped a steady beep, spaced half a second apart. “Just walk around the trailer holding this up in front of you and see what happens,” I said.

  Joe held the unit in his open palm and started to walk toward the other end of the trailer. The beeping increased from half-second intervals to quarter second intervals and a small circle of LEDs indicated which direction the signal was coming from. The further he walked toward the other end of the trailer, the faster the unit beeped. He swept his hand back and forth, altering the frequency of the beeps and the red LED changed, like the hand of a compass to indicate direction. As the beeps got more frequent, Joe advanced in that direction until the beeping became a steady squeal. He looked up on the shelf and plucked the first gadget out from behind a coffee mug. He brought it back to me and handed me both gadgets.

  “A homing device?” he said.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “And you plan on doing what with it?” Joe said.

  “Okay,” I said. “Picture this. We find an inconspicuous place on a piece of equipment that is likely to be stolen. You just leave it outside and go home. Whoever steels that piece of equipment is going to think he got away clean.”

  “And you find it with this?” Joe said, indicating the homing device.

  “Exactly,” I said. “It has a range of twenty miles and I can home right in on the exact spot wherever it ends up. You call the police and they catch the thief with the equipment. Simple. So, what do you think would be the piece of equipment most likely to be stolen? I mean, what has the most value and is most portable? You know, something that could be rolled away and transported without too much trouble.”

  Joe thought about it for a moment and then said, “Probably the acetylene torch, but I can’t afford to have that disappear. I need that to do the job.”

  “Do you have any equipment that you could do without for a short time?” I said. “Or something that you have more than one of that wouldn’t stop construction?”

  “I have three portable generators,” Joe said. “I could get by with two for a while if I had to.”

  “Great,” I said. “Show me the one that I can use for bait.”

  Joe pointed past me. “It’s the one sitting right behind you,” he said. “I just got it yesterday and haven’t set it out for use yet. Will that do?”

  I turned and looked down at the portable generator sitting on the floor. According to the labeling on the side, this was the forty-three hundred watt model with two outlets for four hundred forty volts and two outlets for regular two hundred twenty volts. It had an four stroke engine housed in a tubular frame with easy to carry handles. Each handle had a rubber grip slipped over it, like on a bicycle handlebar. There was a cap on top of the unit for the gas filler. I grabbed one of the four handles and lifted. It barely budged.

  “Gees,” I said, “What does this thing weight?”

  “About ninety-five pounds,” Joe said. “Two guys could easily carry it off, one guy if he was pretty strong.”

  “What does one of these go for?” I said.

  “That one?” Joe said. “That retails for around twenty-eight hundred, but we get them for around two grand wholesale.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “That’s enough value to qualify for grand theft once we catch the guy. I take it you plan on prosecuting.”

  “You’re damned right I do,” Joe said. “I’ve lost too much time and money over this thing already.”

  I looked at my watch and turned to Joe. “What time does the site close down for the night?” I said.

  “We knock off at five o’clock,” Joe said. “I’m usually out of here by five-thirty.”

  “It gets dark around seven-thirty this time of year,” Dad said. “Suppose you leave the generator out tonight?”

  “I could do that,” Joe said. He turned to me. “Where are you going to hide the transmitter, Elliott?”

  I grabbed that same handle again. “Inside here,” I said. “This handle grip will slide off with a little effort. I can stick the transmitter inside the handle and slip the grip back on. You’d never know it was there.”

  “And it doesn’t make any noise to alert anyone?” Joe said.

  “No,” I said, “But this receiver sure will when we get close to it. Here, help me get this handle grip off.”

  Joe and I pulled on the grip, twisting it as we pulled. Little by little it came off. I looked into the tubing part of the handle. “I don’t want to stick it in there,” I said. “It could slide down into the frame and I’d lose it.” I looked around the office and spotted a roll of duct tape on the shelf. “Do you mind if I use a little of your duct tape, Joe?”

  “Help yourself,” Joe said.

  I grabbed the roll of tape and tore off a three inch piece and rolled it up in a ball. I inserted the tape ball into the handle about an inch. “There,” I said. “The transmitter can’t get any farther than the tape and when we recover the generator and pull off the handle, I’ll still be able to reach it.” I placed the eraser-size transmitter just inside the handle and slid the rubber grip back into place. “Now just leave it sit outside tonight. Don’t make it too obvious, thought.”

  “I will,” Joe said, “And thanks for your help, Elliott. This had been one big thorn in my side for a few weeks now and I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

  “We’ll check back with you tomorrow morning,” Dad said. “I’ll call you. What time did you say you get in?”

  “I’m here at six-thirty,” Joe said. “The rest of the crew gets in at seven.”

  “I’ll set my alarm,” Dad s
aid.

  Joe gave Dad a puzzled look. “Why?” he said. “What time do you two start your day?”

  “Right around eight,” Dad said.

  “So you guys get to sleep in every morning, is that it?” Joe said.

  “That we do,” I said. “It’s one of the perks of being your own boss.”

  “Then just call me when you get in,” Joe said. “Wouldn’t want you to lose out on your beauty sleep. And from the looks of it, you could use all you can get.” He winked at Dad and punched him in the arm.

  “Seems like a nice guy,” I said to Dad on the way back to the office.

  “He really is,” Dad said. “Joe and I go back to high school. Believe it or not he was a year behind me and got to be kind of a pest, following me around like a little lost puppy.”

  “I know,” Elliott said. “A year seems like a lot of time when you’re a teenager. Not so much when you get to be your age.”

  “Watch it, kid,” Dad said. “You’ll get there one day yourself. One day you’ll just look in the mirror and suddenly realize you’re old. It creeps up on you.”

  We drove for a few blocks in silence before Dad said, “You really think your homing device will work?”

  “Unless the thieves take the generator outside the transmitter’s range,” I said. “But I have a feeling that whoever is taking this stuff is storing it someplace close and when they think they have enough to make a worthwhile trip, they’ll probably haul it all to Mexico and dump it.”

  “Well,” Dad said. “Let’s hope we can nab them before that happens. You do realize that Joe Finley could become a real ally of yours if you pull this off. He knows a lot of construction company owners and they all talk. You save Joe money and he tells his friends and before you know it, you have more work than you can handle. It’s a good thing I’m available.”

  “It did work out pretty well, didn’t it?” I said. “I mean with Gloria having the baby and you needing to step in for her. Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Have you been to the doctor lately for a checkup? I don’t want to push you into another heart attack. Two is your limit.”

  “He gave me a clean bill of health on my last visit,” Dad said. “Oh, I know enough not to stress myself out or work too hard these days, but under normal conditions, I could last another twenty-five years.”

  “Not doing this kind of work,” I said. “I don’t know any eighty-seven year-old private eyes, do you?”

  “Philip Marlowe is a hundred and six,” Dad said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He ageless. He’s also a fictional character. He’ll go on for another hundred years, but you, I’m not so sure about.”

  When we got back to the office, Gloria was sitting behind her desk, entering old case files into our database. I walked in with Dad close behind me. I held one hand up to Gloria. “No, don’t get up,” I said. “It’s just us.”

  Gloria rolled her eyes and finished the record she was working on before saving her work and shutting her computer off. “Are you both back for the day?” she said.

  I nodded. “Yup,” I said. “Dad and I can finish out the rest of the day if you want to go home.”

  “As the sure the two of you can handle the next forty-five minutes by yourself?” Gloria said, glancing at the wall clock above the door. She didn’t wait for an answer, but turned to me. “I’ll see you at home.” She left and the sounds of her footsteps faded down the hallway.

  “Boy the romance has gone out of that marriage, hasn’t it?” Dad said.

  “What do you mean?” I said. “We’re still passionate. Just because we don’t go overboard in public doesn’t mean the fire has gone out altogether.”

  “My mistake,” Dad said. “Can you handle things here by yourself?”

  “Why?” I said. “Is Wal-Mart having a sale on Geritol?”

  “Funny,” Dad said. “No, I just thought what a waste it would be for two of us to sit here staring at the walls when one of us could handle it just as easily.”

  “Go,” I said, waving one hand toward the door. “I can use some quiet time.”

  Dad didn’t argue. He let himself out and was gone before I could change my mind.

  Clay Cooper made it out to the parking lot before Gloria had had a chance to back out of her parking space. He held one hand up and she stopped, put the car in park and rolled down her window.

  “Did you forget something?” Gloria said.

  Clay shook his head. “No,” he said. “I just wanted to catch you before you went home.”

  “Is something wrong?” Gloria said.

  “No,” Clay assured her. “I just wanted to ask how things are going at home since you brought Matt home from the hospital. Do you and Elliott still get enough time for yourselves?”

  “What are you getting at, Clay,” Gloria said.

  “I was just thinking,” Clay said, “that after we finish this case we’re on now, that maybe you and Elliott could get away by yourselves for the weekend. Between Mrs. Chandler and me, we could take care of little Matt until you get back. It could be just what you need to charge your batteries, so to speak.”

  Gloria cocked her head to the side, thinking about Clay’s proposition. “You know,” she said, “that might be nice. Thank you, Clay. I’ll talk to Elliott about it when he gets home.”

  “Good night, Gloria,” Clay said, as she backed out of her space and headed home.

  Many a time Clay had wondered how things might have turned out if it had not been for his second heart attack. Before that time, he and Gloria had become an item, keeping their relationship a secret. Once he’d had the second heart attack and felt the effects that Gloria’s touch had on him, they both decided it would be best to end the relationship, if for no other reason than to keep Clay from experiencing a third, and possibly fatal heart attack. It was during his second recuperation period when Gloria came back to Cooper Investigations to help out that she and Elliott eventually found each other in ways that hadn’t occurred to them before. Neither Clay nor Gloria had ever let Elliott know about their past relationship.

  When I got home that night, the nanny, Mrs. Chandler, was just getting into a cab at the curb. I waved to her before going into the house. I found Gloria sitting in the rocking chair with Matt in her arms and a bottle sticking out of Matt’s little mouth. I stood next to them and smoothed Matt’s fine baby hair back on his head. It always made me smile.

  “So tell me about this case you and Dad went on today,” Gloria said.

  I told her about the homing device that I’d planted in the handle of the portable generator and how Dad and I planned to follow up on it in the morning.

  “Sounds like you’re getting your money’s worth out of all those electric gadgets,” Gloria said.

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “It’s the wave of the future. I only wish I’d looked into years ago. This technology and the cases it will generate is going to put us into the next tax bracket, so you’d better get used to a better style of living, Mrs. Cooper.”

  “Now if it could only generate more free time for both of us,” Gloria said, “we’d be all set. I’d hate to think either of us or both of us will be too busy with the business to enjoy watching Matt grow up. There’s time you’ll never be able to get back again.”

  “And the funny thing about all this new technology,” I said, “is that by the time Matt joins me in the business, it’ll all be obsolete. By the time Matt takes over the company, that is if that’s what he wants to do with his life, they’ll probably have invisibility cloaks like the kind they used on those Harry Potter movies. Then tailing someone for a client will be a piece of cake, unless the person you’re tailing is also wearing one.”

  “You daydream too much, you know that, Elliott?” Gloria said. “Invisibility cloaks, come on, really.”

  “That’s probably similar to what they all told Chester Gould back in the thirties,” I said.

  “Okay,” Gloria said, “I’ll bite. Who is Chester Gould?”


  “He drew that Dick Tracy comic strip for more than forty years,” I explained. “People probably called him a daydreamer, too, when he included futuristic gadgets like the two-way wrist radio with a small TV screen on it. And now look at what they have today. Small cell phones with instant video capabilities so you can see who you’re talking to. Same thing, only not attached to your wrist.”

  “I see your point,” Gloria said. “I’m just saying that I don’t want either of us to regret years down the road that we missed Matt’s childhood because we were too busy working. There are more important things in life than money.”

  “I’ll try to make that a priority,” I said. “Find a way to work harder, smarter, shorter and for more money. I wonder why no one else has ever thought of that. Oh wait, they have—everybody has.”

  Gloria looked at me with the same look she used when she wanted to silence me without having to say so out loud. “All I’m saying,” Gloria said, “is that as long as you have access to all this technology, why not try to make it work for you in reaching that goal?”

  “That sounds good in theory,” I said, “but the problem with that is that we charge clients by the day, and if technology will help us get the job done sooner, that’s just that many days less we can charge the client. It’s kind of a Catch-22, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure we’ll find a workable solution,” Gloria said.

  I was in the shower the next morning when my phone rang. Gloria answered it. It was Joe Finley, calling to let me know he was already in his contractor’s trailer. Gloria told him she’d relay the message when I got out of the shower. I dressed, had breakfast and was almost ready to leave when Dad came to the door.

  “You going to sleep the day away?” Dad said when he walked in.