by Diane Roads
CHAPTER 13
After returning to the station, Jasper put a call in to the FBI. He asked to speak to the Director. District Director Jack Riley picked up the phone, "Riley speaking."
"Director Riley, this is Sheriff Quagmire of Quagmire Ville. We have found that missing Van Gogh and we have captured the thief who took it. We would like to you to send someone to pick up Earl Skinner, or Scooter as George knows him as, and the Van Gogh."
"My, you have had a busy night. I will send a couple of agents right away. Earl Scooter. That name sounds familiar. I know he was sent away 6 years ago, and I was alerted that he was out.' Riley filled him in on more details about what he had been doing then added. 'He hasn't been out too long."
"You got that right. His prison roommate’s father worked a very affluent man, an art collector. Skinner baited him with a painting from his unfinished hummingbird collection. Mr. Twilliger bought it, not knowing the Van Gogh was behind it. He sure went through a lot of work for something only worth around half a million. I am getting ready to call Big City National Art Gallery, to let them know we have it. They know who to contact."
"Thanks. That will save me a call. I don't know what time it is over there, and I always hate waking up people at this hour."
His next call was to the Big City National Art Gallery to let them know the painting had been found. Jasper called the after hours number. The phone rang three times and then Milo Dillman answered the phone. "Hello, Big City National Art Gallery, this is Milo."
"Hello Milo, this is Sheriff Quagmire from Quagmire Ville, I wanted to update you on a situation that has developed here. I don't know if Katie has told you anything or not, but to our surprise, we have what we believe to be the missing Van Gogh."
"This can't be. How in the world did it end up in Quagmire Ville? Oh my, you must be mistaken."
"We might be, but it doesn't look like it. We uncovered an international art smuggling ring. We have a painting that came from the Round Tree Auction House in New York. A Bruskey was used to cover up the Van Gogh. It just so happens, that one of our citizens of Quagmire is a collector of hummingbirds. A picture of a hummingbird that was painted by Bruskey went up for auction. It was the last in a series that one of our citizens was collecting. He ended up bidding $10,000 for the picture."
"A Bruskey for $10,000?! That alone should have sent up red lights and sirens! Where is the painting now?"
"It is here at the police station. The FBI will be here in a little while. They will take custody of the painting and the thief. Would you contact the owners of the painting, and let them know they need to contact the FBI about checking if it is the authentic painting or not. The FBI will release it from their custody if it is determined to be the real deal."
"Yes, I can do that. I still can't believe that a Van Gogh ended up there. Do you know that it is worth over three million? That is a little unknown secret. They thought if they played down how much it was worth that the thief would have a harder time selling it. Maybe he would make some mistakes, and we, the art world, would get it back."
"He made some mistakes alright. Would you let Katie know that we are ready for her to come and check it out. You are welcome to come also, if you like."
Katie Miller was the curator for the Big City National Art Gallery, and was waiting for his call. There had been so much secrecy about the painting, but Jasper wanted to be on the safe side and make sure it got into the right hands. The Gallery could provide the authenticity they needed.
"Yes I will be letting Katie know, and we will both be there in about 30 Minutes. Thank you for calling."
The FBI had been informed of whom they had in custody. Earl Skinner or Scooter, whichever name he preferred, was finishing being fingerprinted. He was given the customary towel to clean his fingers. Hard as he might try, it was going to take a lot of soap and water, and time, to clean it all off, which was something Earl Scooter was going to have a lot of. He asked to make a phone call, and was given a phone.
Jasper walked into the interrogation room that had three chairs set in it. Earl was in one chair wearing handcuffs and ankle bracelets, and Jim was sitting across the room. This was not the first time Earl had been in one of these gray rooms, and felt he was ready for anything that would be thrown his way. He figured he would get off easy. All he stole was a cheap little Bruskey. What breaking and entering? No big deal. These dumb little hick-town cops didn't know what was really under the Bruskey. No, he had planned it out all too well. He could still come back when this was all over and get the Van Gogh. “Still the perfect crime,” he thought, "like money in the bank."
Jasper started with, "Earl Skinner, or should I say, Earl Scooter?" Yes, I know who you are. Now I hope that phone call was to your lawyer."
A cocky Earl said, "I don't need a lawyer. You don't have anything on me, one lousy picture. Tell that old man to drop the charges, or I'll sue him for his mangy old mutt attacking me. I'll take everything he's got. When I get done with him, he will wish he had given me that picture.”
"I don't think Mr. Twilliger is who you have to worry about, and I want to know who you are working with."
The cocky voice said, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"We have all had too long of a day to be playing games, and yours just got longer. The FBI has been called in and when we are done with you, they get a crack at you. So give us some names and tell us what you did to Mr. Twilliger, make it easy on yourself."
"Like I said, I didn't do nothing and don't worry yourself about it. I work alone."
"Oh, we know George Carter was part of all of this. He helped set up his daddy's boss. I bet that he was even the master mind in all of this."
"Mastermind!? You don't listen too well; you’ve got to be kidding if you think I'd work with a stupid kid! Yes, stupid. He never knew all the planning I was doing. He was living in a fairytale world, letting me read dear Daddy's letters, feeling sorry for me. He would tell me about this hokey church back in a little town of Quackmire his daddy lived in, how he was going to go home to his daddy's when he got out. He might even start going to church. His daddy said it didn't matter to those church folks what he had done, as long as he was sorry, and stayed out of trouble. See, I told you he was a stupid kid. There's no place like home, yeah, sure there is. You had better go wipe his nose."
"You expect me to believe that you did all of this on your own without George's help?"
"Oh, I had George's help all right. He just didn't know it at the time. He thought he was doing me a favor, letting me read dear old Dad's letters."
"That doesn't explain how a Van Gogh ended up behind a Bruskey."
"Van Gogh! I didn't steal any Van Gogh. I stole a Bruskey, and that's all you can prove."
"I had one of my men check, and your finger prints are on the back of that Van Gogh. The only way they could have gotten there is if you put it in the frame behind the Bruskey."
There was a long silence, like he was carefully weighing his next answer, and then Earl said, "I've got nothing more to say."
Jasper walked out of the room, leaving Jim and Earl still sitting there. He sent Kevin in to help put Earl in a cell until the FBI showed up, which should be only a matter of a few minutes. It was plain to see they were not going to get any more out of him before that. But Jasper already had all he needed to know from Earl Scooter. The only thing that bothered Jasper was how cool Earl was with everything. He didn't seem worried at all. Jasper wondered what he was up to.
The next voice to be heard was from George Carter, as Jasper was walking through the door to his office. "Sheriff, I don't know what he was saying in there, but I didn't have anything to do with him breaking in on Mr. Twilliger's house. I wasn't even home. My daddy and the Twilliger's can vouch for where I was this evening. I have been trying to be good since I came here. These people are just like Daddy said they would be. They have been good to me, and I never had that before. I don't want to mess this up. Please believe me."
"Okay, George, just calm down. No one is accusing you of anything. I already talked to your daddy the other day. He told me about the meeting you had with Earl."
"Oh man, I didn't want him to say anything. I could go back to prison if they knew. I don't ever want to go back there. Oh, I wish he hadn't said a thing. This is bad, man, bad."
"Its okay George, he didn't say it to get you in trouble, your dad was trying to help you. He was letting me know that Earl was in town, and that you didn't want anything to do with him. He said that you were trying to stay straight. You don't have anything to worry about if that is the truth."
"Oh honest, Sheriff, it is. I didn't know he was in town until he stopped by the day Mr. Twilliger left town. That was the day he left his coat. I didn't think I would ever see him again, so I started to wear it. It was a new coat, and that's when Rollo started growling at me. We finally figured out it was the coat, and so I threw it away. Old Scoot didn't want it back. The next time I ran into him was the morning the Twilliger's house got broken into."
"Where was that?"
"I was jogging about one block from the Twilliger's. I have had a hard time sleeping since I got out, and I can't seem to get enough fresh air. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah, George, I do. That's not uncommon. Don't worry, Earl pretty much said you didn't have anything to do with all of this, at least, not willingly."
"What do you mean not 'willingly,' and what was he talking about when he said ‘those letters.’"
"Well, it's those letters you let him read when you were in prison. He was setting up the Twilliger's for months. He had a lot of time on his hands with nothing else to do. You just thought you were being nice, and Earl uses people like that for his own gain. You are just lucky he didn't make you the fall guy."
"You mean if he said I was in on it, I could have gone back to prison?"
"No, we would have had to have more proof than that. We don't take the word of a thief and attempted murderer."
"Murderer?! I thought he had just broken into the Twilliger's. What's this about murder? Oh, you're talking about when he tried to kill you when I pulled up?"
"No, I am talking about trying to kill Mr. Twilliger. We don't know all the facts, but we do suspect that he had something to do with what happened to Mr. Twilliger. I think he did whatever he did just outside of Rollo's dog pen, and then hauled him off behind the cafe. Harry had made the comment that 'only the dog knows' when we found scuff marks outside his pen. Rollo must have seen it all. That is why he went after Earl with such vengeance. It was justified. Then we found a shallow grave out there, where it looked like someone dug their way out of it. We now know it was Mr. Twilliger."
"That explains why Rollo has been acting so funny. But that's terrible! And I know that there are some evil people out there from being in prison, but burying a man alive! This was who I lived with for a year? I never dreamed he was that evil."
"No, I don't think he thought he was alive, or he would have tied him up and made sure he didn't get out. I think he thought he was dead, and speaking of Rollo, what were you doing at the house tonight with him?"
"Well, Dad called to tell me that it was Mr. Twilliger they had found, and he was doing all right. That he and Mrs. Twilliger were going to stay up at the hospital tonight, and don't be too surprised if he came by to pick up some things. Well, I waited, and he never showed up, and I wanted to make it over to Connie's to pick up Rollo and take him up to see Mr. Twilliger before she went home. I figured he must have woken up, and that is why Dad didn’t come home. I was hoping that if he saw him, then maybe he would start eating again."
"I was right, and when I got there, they brought Mr. Twilliger outside, so I got Rollo out of the car. I had brought some dog food with me, and sure enough, after he had loved on Mr. Twilliger, Mr. Twilliger was able to get him to eat some food. I put him back in the car, and spent some more time with Dad and the Twilliger's as we took him back to his room and then left. On the way home, I went through a drive-through and got a burger for Rollo and me. He just couldn't get enough food."
"That was about it until I pulled up in the driveway. I had no idea that anything was going on until I opened the door and Rollo shot past me. I couldn't stop him. The next thing I heard was Old Scoot shouting 'Get him off of me.' You know the rest of the story."
It wasn't until that moment that Jasper realized that if George had not gotten Rollo, he might very well have died tonight.
He said a little "Thank You, Lord," as George asked, "You okay, Sheriff?"
"Yeah, I was just thinking how that little act of kindness you performed just might have saved my life tonight. If you hadn't been there with Rollo, he might have shot me. Smokey moved, but was to far away too stop him in time. Thank you, George. As they say, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Is there anything else you want to add to your statement?"
"I can't think of anything Sheriff, can I go now?"
"One more thing, it might help things. Did you keep those letters that your dad sent you?"
"Yes I did. Would you like to read them?"
"Yes I would. Partly to satisfy my own curiosity, and mostly to prove that the information Earl Scooter used came from those letters. You will get them back."
"Okay I will go home and get them right now."
"That's okay, you can bring them in morning."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, but don't leave town, just in case the FBI wants to ask you some questions, and like I said, don't worry. I will tell them that you had nothing to do with all of this."
George thanked him and went home.
Katie Miller and Milo Dillman had arrived at the station while Jasper was talking to George Carter.
Jasper walked in to find the two of them whispering. “Look at the brush strokes. It has to be him. The paint looks like it also.” Smiles were on both faces.
"Hi Sheriff, we’ve got a little bit of news for you."
"I hope it is good news. Like, it's the real McCoy."
"From what we can tell, it is the "Real McCoy." But to be sure, the Paris Museum will have to send someone over to make absolutely sure this is their painting. Take special care of this, it’s worth more than all of us here put together will make in a lifetime. Not to mention, the art world would lose something very precious again."
"I'm kind of like little Toby over at Harrison's frame shop. It's hard to believe that people are making such a fuss over a picture of a yellow pot and some flowers."
"Van Gogh did some wonderful works of art in his time. This was one of his more domesticated paintings he did. It's not for everyone. But to think, it has stood the test of time. So many of our great art works were lost during the second world war, and we almost lost this one. I am so glad you were able to recover it, and that I got to see it. It's not often that I get to see a Van Gogh. And you should consider yourself privileged also. Now, where does the painting go from here?"
"The FBI is going to take it into custody along with Earl Skinner, or Scooter, or whoever he is. They have been looking for him for a long time, almost since he got out of prison. They thought they had a lead on him in New York. He was pinned down with two other guys in some big old house, but then they got away. You can imagine how thrilled the FBI was when I called them."
"I can't imagine him waiting so long, and running the risk of Mr. Twilliger having it reframed. That must have been why he took so long in trying to get the painting from Mr. Twilliger. Because he was pinned down in New York. When are they picking him up?" Katie asked.
"They should be here in a little while now. They wanted to make sure they didn't lose him a second time. It didn't look so good that they lost him the first time. The inspector said they were lying low, waiting for him to make his move. Funny thing, it must have been at a distance because I haven't seen one of their men in town. You would think if they were keeping an eye on him it would have been in Quagmire. I don't care what he says. If he wants to take credit for all of
this, it is fine with me. Just as long as they take him and this painting."
"What is going to happen to the Bruskey?"
"Oh, that will have to go with the Van Gogh for now. Don't worry. It will make it back to the Twilliger's when this is all over. It may take a while, but they will get it back."
"Well, I guess my job is done here. It's really late and we need to head back to the city. I brought a case for you to put the painting in. It should keep it safe until it makes it back to Paris."
"I appreciate that. I know I have been up since 4:30 this morning, and hadn't even thought about that. Apparently our Mr. Scooter tried to get into the Twilliger's house through a door at one point. I guess that tunnel wasn't too appealing in the dark, that particular time. It didn't seem to bother him tonight. The only problem was he couldn’t use it when he wanted to leave. It didn’t help any that I had jammed the door so he couldn't go back out of it."
"You couldn't pay me enough to go into it. I'm not into spiders and snakes. It would give me nightmares just thinking about it," said Katie.
"Just think happy thoughts. You got to hold a Van Gogh! Not one of my favorite ones, but still a Van Gogh."
The last thing the two of them did before they left was to put the painting in the case. Satisfied the painting was safe they walked out.
