The Dog Who Ate The Flintlock

by Edward Coburn

  “I’ll get right on it,” Ken said as he left the room to call the local field office so they could send someone to get Morgan’s steak and cigar. He said they should bring a box of cigars, if they could find one, so they wouldn’t have to round up another one tomorrow if Morgan lived that long. He also asked them to send a stenographer to take down everything Morgan told them and that she should bring recording equipment too in case she missed something.

  After Morgan had eaten his steak, which a nurse cut up for him, and smoked his cigar, Morgan was ready to talk to Ken and the stenographer who had arrived the same time the steak did. The box of Havana cigars came to the room a half-hour later just as Morgan was finishing his steak.

  “Now,” Ken started, “I expect you to give us something good. I still have some Havanas if you do.”

  “Oh, you’ll definitely think this is good. Do you remember…,” Morgan stared at the ceiling as if it might inspire him or help his memory, “I don’t know how long ago, but do you remember the killer the newspapers called the marriage counselor?”

  A warm glow circulated through Ken’s body and a flush spread on his face. Adam seemed excited at the prospect of learning something about the marriage counselor as well. “Are you saying you know something about the killer?” Ken had been studying the marriage counselor case for several years in his spare time. He had to do it on his own time because the case was too old for the agency to expend resources when no new links to the case had been found for several years.

  Morgan smiled and nodded. “He was, and still is, Carlo Donati.”

  “Do you know something the FBI doesn’t or are you simply trying to point us to Donati for some perverted reason?” Ken asked. “You do know we won’t be able to pin anything on him unless you can give us proof of something.”

  It was Robert’s turn. “We have searched his house a number of times and haven’t found anything to do with the marriage counselor o anything else.”

  “You haven’t known where to look,” Morgan said. He turned to Ken. “Can I have another Havana? It will help me remember.”

  Ken wasn’t buying that for a second, but they did bring him an entire box, and the room already wreaked of cigar smoke so what could it hurt to give Morgan what he wanted. Perhaps he might be willing to provide them with something. So far he’d only teased them about Donati. Ken wanted to bring Donati down worse than any criminal he’d ever pursued. Therefore, he walked over to the table where he’d laid the box and pulled out another cigar. After he lit it and Morgan had seemingly enjoyed several puffs, he said, “Now give, or you won’t get any more.”

  Morgan nodded, took another puff and then coughed. That didn’t deter him, however, as he took another long drag on his cigar. “One day I had a meeting scheduled with Donati at his house, and he was late. He was rarely late, so this was a surprise. When he finally came into his office, he was bubbling over. I asked what he was so excited about and he unrolled a handkerchief and showed me a finger that he’d cut off somebody.” Morgan stopped for a few puffs, and Ken turned to Adam.

  “Could it be?”

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t know. That part was never released to the press, so maybe.”

  “Where did the finger come from?” Robert asked.

  “Donati said he cut it off a woman that he’d killed and buried. Then that he wanted to show me something.” Morgan stopped to take several more puffs which caused him to cough and grasp his chest in pain. “It hurts,” he said grimacing. He screwed up his face at Dr. Richards. “Give me something.”

  Dr. Richards handed Dr. Carter Morgan’s chart. “What do you think? Can we give him more morphine? Or would you suggest something else?”

  “I think more morphine will be okay.”

  “Don’t get him too high. He needs to earn his steak,” Ken said.

  “It’s not for fun. It’s for his pain. You do want him to be able to talk to you, don’t you?”

  “Certainly. Give him whatever you think. Just don’t put him out. He owes me.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Dr. Richards said and then gave the nurse some instructions. She left and came back a minute later with a syringe of morphine as ordered. She injected it into a line feeding Morgan fluids. A minute or two later Morgan breathed a bit easier.

  “Now that you’ve gotten your happy juice, get on with it,” Ken said, his patience running out.

  Morgan smiled at Ken’s discomfort. “Patience, FBI, patience. He took me to the basement of his house, opened a hidden door in the wall, and took me into a small room that smelled like death warmed over. I almost threw up right there on the floor.” He stopped again, puffing slowly as if he had all the time in the world instead of a few hours or at most a day or two.

  “Are you going to finish or do you want me to take that foul thing away from you?” Ken snarled.

  “If you do I’ll clam up entirely. But, if you let me tell it at my own speed you’ll be glad you did,” Morgan grinned and took several more leisurely puffs. He blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling.

  “Okay. You can smoke your cigar. But only if you finish the story.”

  “What about the room?” Adam asked his interest piqued. He wondered, as he was sure Ken was doing, if this could really be the end of the marriage counselor. He wished Morgan wasn’t enjoying twisting the knife of their interest so much.

  “All right,” Morgan said blowing out another cloud of smoke. “Now that I’ve got your attention, I guess I can finish my little tale.” He took several more puffs enjoying watching everyone’s anxious faces before he reached over for his cup of water. He took a swallow and coughed before he took another puff on his cigar. “He took me over to a glass case like you’d see in some store displaying merchandise for sale. Except it wasn’t filled with merchandise, it was filled with neatly arrayed fingers, many with wedding rings still on them. Some seemed to be quite old, and each of them was labeled with the name of who the finger belonged to and the date it was cut off. He laid his latest trophy on the case, said he’d take care of it later, and then we left the room and he closed it.” He smiled at each face in turn. There were no smiles on the other faces. They all appeared shocked rather than happy. “That’s my story. Now, wasn’t that worth a cigar? I presume it was.”

  Ken nodded his hand on his throat as if to stifle his gag reflex. “How did Donati open the secret room?”

  “I didn’t notice, and he’s never shown me the room again. He went over to a wine rack and did something that I didn’t see, and a panel slid aside revealing the room.”

  “How long ago was this,” Robert asked with a shaky voice.

  “Not more than two or three years ago. He flew me back from LA just to meet with him so I could give him an update on some of my activities. He did that every once in a while, but this was the only time he showed me the room.” He grinned at Ken. “Well, FBI. Do you want more or is that enough to sink Donati?”

  “If we can find the room and he hasn’t moved his trophies, it will certainly be enough to sink him. But we would like more if you’ve got more.”

  Morgan threw the stub of the cigar on the floor. Dr. Richards stared at him hatefully. “You no-account slob.” He started to reach for Morgan but drew back knowing it wasn’t in his purview to throttle the pig even if he deserved it. He reached down for the stub, but one of the nurses beat him to it.

  Morgan smiled at the doctor’s anguish at his thoughtlessness but turned to Ken. “I’ve got a lot more, but it’s gonna cost you another cigar.”

  “All right,” Ken got another cigar from the box and lit it for Morgan.

  Over the next hour, Morgan held everyone spellbound with many tales of Donati’s cruelty and brutality. When he started severely coughing after a puff of his latest cigar, he grasped his chest in pain. Dr. Carter told them in no uncertain terms they would have to let Morgan rest for at least an hour.

  “All right,” Ken said. “We’ll go check on Yarborough.” He instantly knew what he’d don
e, wished he could take it back, and hoped Morgan hadn’t heard his slip.

  Morgan stopped coughing and turned an angry face to Ken. “You dirty…” he yelled which caused him to start coughing again. “He’s alive…,” he said with less emotion but more coughing. “You lied.”

  Ken hung his head as if he were ashamed of lying to Morgan. He wasn’t.

  “I suppose you lied about Miranda too.”

  “No. Miranda is dead.” He took the crime scene photo from his pocket and showed it to Morgan.

  “That’s her.” Was all he said.

  “And we do think that Roman killed her,” Ken added. “That has not been firmly established yet because we’re waiting on ballistics, but we’re convinced that’s what happened.”

  “I don’t care what…happened. Get out…of here. We’re…through. I’m not giving you any more.” Morgan was wheezing dramatically now and turned his head away from Ken.

  “I want you out of here, and I mean now,” Dr. Richards spoke firmly and pointed a shaky hand at the door. “And you’re not to come back for at least,” he glanced at his watch, “three hours. Now get out.”

  Ken signaled for the stenographer to come and he waited while she picked up all she’d brought and then led everyone out of the room. As they walked out the door, Morgan hollered, “And don’t…bother to…come back.” He started coughing again. They heard him coughing until they were standing by the elevators.

  Ken peered at the others somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry guys. It just slipped out.”

  They all looked at him, but it was Robert who spoke. “That’s all right. Morgan probably gave us about all he had. I’m sure we won’t have any problem bringing Donati’s empire down.”

  “Not if we can find that room.”

  “If it’s no longer where Morgan said it was, maybe I can help find it,” Adam said. “After all, that’s what I do. Or at least that’s what I used to do. However, for this, I’ll come out of retirement. Donati needs to be stopped and put someplace so people will be safe.”

  “No truer words have ever been spoken.”

  “In case you didn’t pick up on it, I’m officially offering my services for however long I can be of use.”

  “That’s generous of you, and I’m sure we’ll take you up on your offer. And we’ll do everything we can to keep your name out of the press.”

  “That would be appreciated,” Adam said with a smile.

  Chapter 58

  When they arrived at the emergency room, Ken stopped in front of Baker who was still sitting outside the door. “How’s he doing?”

  A doctor came out of the room as Ken asked the question. “He’s gone I’m afraid. We did our best, but there was simply too much damage. We called it about two minutes ago.”

  “That’s too bad. We were hoping to be able to talk to him,” Ken said.

  “I’m sorry. He never regained consciousness. So even if you’d have stayed right in the room, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him.”

  “I understand. It was a faint hope at best with four bullets in him.” Ken turned to Cox and Baker. “I guess we’ll go back to Morgan’s room. You might as well come with us. There’s nothing for you to do here. I’ll call the field office and tell them to send the coroner’s wagon for Yarborough’s body.” He pulled out his cell phone and did just that. Then he led everybody back to intensive care. He had everybody stay in the hallway while he tried to talk to Morgan again. He’d call them in if Morgan had calmed down enough that he would be willing to give them more information about Donati.

  The instant Ken opened the door, however, Morgan yelled, “I told you to stay out,” he coughed a deep and seemingly painful cough because he slapped his hand over his bandages again. “Get out,” he wheezed, “I ain’t talking to you no more.”

  “Calm down. I thought you might want to know that Roman is now dead. He never regained consciousness.”

  “I don’t care. Get out.” Morgan reached for his water cup and weakly heaved it in Ken’s direct. It fell far short of the mark and water splashed on the floor. One of the nurses grabbed a towel out of a cupboard and mopped up the mess. She set the cup back on the table but out of Morgan’s reach.

  “I need some water,” Morgan breathed.

  “After your visitor leaves,” the nurse said.

  Ken took the hint and reopened the door. He closed it behind him and conveyed to everyone waiting what Morgan had said and done. He advised the stenographer she might as well leave and had Cox and Baker to take them back to the airport. He said he wanted to get to Donati as soon as possible before Donati realized his biggest secret might be in jeopardy. On the way, Ken arranged for the flight crew to have their plane ready to fly to Morgantown when they arrived. The aircraft was ready to taxi, and the pilots had filed the flight plan by the time they got to the FBI terminal. Ken thanked agents Cox and Baker, and within a few minutes, Ken and the rest of his entourage were in the air on their way to Morgantown. In the air, Ken, Robert, and Adam strategized about their attack on Donati. Robert said he would get the search warrant signed because he knew the judges in the area who would be willing to do it and he’d gotten search warrant’s signed by them for Danoti’s mansion before.

  It was after eight o’clock when they landed in Morgantown, and the first thing Adam did was call Marti. “Hello sweetheart,” he said.

  “Hello. Where are you?”

  “We’re back in Morgantown but we found out some important information, and we’re going to be tracking down some leads, so I won’t be able to get home for a few days yet.”

  “Nothing dangerous for you I trust?” Marti was accustomed to Adam’s penchant for inserting himself into perilous situations.

  “Shouldn’t be. I’ll be with the FBI, and I promise I’ll stay well back as they do their thing.” He probably couldn’t live up to that promise because he might need to go into the basement to help the agents find the hidden room as he doubted Donati would be forthcoming with the information about the concealed latch that opened the door. He reasoned it must be hidden because Morgan didn’t see how Donati opened the door.

  “You’d better.”

  “How are the dogs and the little ones?” He thought it best to talk about something else.

  “Everybody’s fine. The pups are growing. You probably won’t recognize them.”

  “Maybe we should have put name tags on them, so we will know which pup is which. After all, I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong one.”

  “Come on. It’s only been a few days. They haven’t changed that much.”

  “I know.” The FBI jet had taxied to the charter terminal, and they had been walking to where Robert’s car was parked when Adam and Robert had picked up Adam’s charter almost a week ago. The four of them fit into Robert’s car quite comfortably, and Robert dropped Ken and Adam at a motel by the airport but took Jenny home with him. They had talked on the plane, and Robert invited her to stay with him for the night. He wanted the opportunity to speak to her about Mary Beth.

  “Good morning all,” Robert said as he walked into the conference room where Adam, Ken, Jenny, and two SWAT agents were waiting. He waved a piece of paper in the air. “I’ve gotten the search warrant. There was no problem getting it signed. I went to the judge we generally use, and he signed off on it right away. He has known about how many times we’ve tried to bring down um…” he shrugged at the agents waiting in the room. “No offense guys, but I’m not going to say the name aloud. We’ve been after this guy for too long for there to be any slipups.”

  One of the agents smiled. “That’s all right, sir. We understand.”

  Robert didn’t sit down. “Okay, everything’s arranged. Let’s go. Jenny, you can wait here.”

  She didn’t get up. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t have anything to contribute anyway. I’d just be in the way.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. I’ll have somebody take you to a lounge area where you can watch TV or read a magazine or two.
”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a nursing magazine. “That’s okay. I have this to keep me busy.”

  Jenny walked out with them, and Robert had an officer to take her to the nearest lounge.

  They drove their non-descript van to the front of Donati’s estate where Robert asked to see Donati about one of his cars. They had discussed their approach and had decided to tell Donati one of his vehicles had been reported leaving the scene of an accident. Whoever answered their gate call said none of their vehicles had been in a crash.

  “Maybe not,” Robert said, “But we still have to investigate.”

  “All right,” he answered with a heavy sigh as the gate slid open.

  Robert drove the van into the circular drive and stopped near the door where Erik was waiting. They all piled out of the van.

  “What is this?” Erik said. “Does it really take five of you to check a car for damage? And why SWAT?”

  Robert handed Erik the search warrant. “We have a warrant to search the premises.”

  Erik glanced at the warrant and stood in the doorway preventing them from entering the house. “Wait just a minute. This doesn’t say anything about looking for a car.”

  “So I lied,” Robert said. “Get out of the way, or we’ll arrest you.”

  “I need to talk to Mr. Donati about this.” Erik didn’t budge.

  “You can take the warrant to him while we search. If you look closely, we only want to search the basement. Depending on what we find there we’ll get the warrant expanded for other places and things in the house. Now let us in.”

  “I’ll let you in, but you can only go to the basement after I talk to Mr. Donati.”

  Robert turned to Ken. “That’s okay,” Ken said. “Donati should be with us anyway. We’ll want to keep our eyes on him.”

  They all followed Erik to Donati’s office. He left the door open as he went in to explain to Donati what was happening.