Lady Justice and the Lottery

by Robert Thornhill

  Kyle had stopped crying and had a bewildered look on his face. This was undoubtedly a new experience for all of us.

  We returned to the bassinet and laid Kyle back on the plastic.

  “I think we’re supposed to powder him before we zip him back up,” I said, looking around.

  I spied the Johnson and Johnson’s and liberally doused his lower regions while Ox held his legs apart.

  We were proudly surveying our work when Kyle grimaced and tooted one more time shooting a puff of white powder across the bassinet.

  “A fitting salute to a job well done,” I observed. “I’ll let you diaper him up while I find a place to dispose of the toxic waste.”

  “Sounds fair,” Ox said, pulling a fresh Pamper from the box.

  I gagged one more time as I started to fold the soiled diaper into a ball, but then I noticed something strange. The bulk of Kyle’s gift had been runny, but I noticed one lump that had a distinct shape.

  I rummaged around in the kitchen drawers until I found a fork and gingerly probed the lump. “Well I’ll be damned!” I said as I held the stinky orb. “I believe we’ve found our perp!”

  Ox had just finished his part of the deal and the three of us were once again by the sink rinsing off poop when Mrs. Blankenship returned with a tear-stained Warren.

  “Mrs. Blankenship, on the day your ring went missing, where was Kyle when you took your phone call?”

  “Right here next to the sink by me. I left him in his high chair.”

  “Well guess who swallowed your ring while you were on the phone,” I said, holding up the diamond.

  “Oh my God! My ring! Charlene didn’t take it after all. Thank heavens!”

  On the way back to the precinct, I was wondering how much detail I should put in my report.

  Then, a thought occurred to me. Lady Justice certainly has a sense of humor. The acronym for my little group is C.R.A.P., and today we had certainly lived up to our name.

  CHAPTER 9

  Word of our exploits had spread through the precinct and when we entered the squad room the next day, Dooley was ready for us.

  “Here they are, folks. The brave officers of the ‘Doody Squad’, returning safely from their hazardous mission on the ‘Pamper Patrol’.

  Everyone cheered as Dooley draped a pacifier on a string around each of our necks.

  Thankfully, it was a short meeting. I was anxious to get out on the street and away from the limelight.

  We were heading to the parking garage when the captain hailed us.

  “Walt, Ox. In my office.”

  “What now?” Ox mumbled.

  When we entered the captain’s office, I was surprised to see a whole roomful of people. The only one I recognized besides the captain was Earl, the lottery winner that had been abducted along with Maggie.

  The captain made the introductions. “Walt, Ox, I think you know Earl Lassiter. This is his fellow lottery winner, Mort Friedman and their attorney, Sol Friedman. The lovely lady accompanying them is Stacy Brect with Carder-Brect Communications in Hollywood, California. The gentleman seated in the corner is Paul Michaels from the City Manager’s office.”

  I nodded to each of them.

  The captain continued, “Mr. Lassiter has presented us with a very interesting proposition. I’ll let him tell you about it.”

  Earl jumped out of his chair and grabbed my hand first and then Ox’s. “So glad to see both of you again --- under more pleasant circumstances this time. I’m going to come right out with it. We want to make a TV series based on your City Retiree Action Patrol.”

  I’m sure my mouth must have dropped open.

  “Here’s the thing,” Earl said, pressing on, “You’re one of us --- a Baby Boomer --- a Golden Ager --- plus, you’re a hero! There are over five million of us in the U.S. over sixty-five and all there is on TV is stuff for the yuppies. We need a hero and we want it to be you!”

  At first I was speechless, but I finally mumbled, “I --- I’m no hero. I’m just a beat cop doing my job.”

  “Nonsense!” Earl retorted. “You and Ox saved my ass the other night with a pair of toy guns! You’re definitely my hero. What young cop could have pulled that off? Plus, I understand from visiting with some of your fellow officers that you’ve had some assistance from other seniors. I can’t wait to meet Mary Murphy. They tell me she whacked a Russian mobster*, took out a hired assassin** and shot a home invader***.

  *******************************************

  *http://booksbybob.com/lady-justice-and-the-lost-tapes_307.html

  **http://booksbybob.com/lady-justice-and-the-sting_348.html

  ***http://booksbybob.com/lady-justice-and-the-vigilante_362.html

  Then there’s Willie, your Dad and Maggie! I can’t believe how many times that poor woman has been abducted. What a story! It’ll make a great series!”

  “Look,” I said, “I appreciate your interest and enthusiasm, but the last thing in the world I want is hype and media attention. I just want to do my job, go home to my wife and enjoy a cold glass of Arbor Mist. Every cop in this precinct is a hero and has a story to tell. I’m sure you can find someone a lot more interesting than me.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” Earl replied. “There’s NO ONE like you! You’re seventy years old for chrissakes! You’re the poster boy for the nearly twenty percent of the U.S. population over 60. You’re the guy that can send the message that just because you’ve reached a certain level of maturity you don’t have to be put out to pasture. You’re the guy that tells the world that life doesn’t come to an end at sixty-five. You’re the guy that can encourage us to keep on living and that we ‘oldies’ still have a contribution to make.”

  My head was spinning as I listened to Earl pontificate. After all those accolades, I probably should have responded with something profound, but what came out was, “But --- I don’t want to be a poster boy.”

  “Now, now,” Earl replied, “I know this is a lot to assimilate. You’ll need some time to let all of this sink in. Stacy will be in town for a few days, so we’ll be in touch. All I ask is that you give this some serious thought. You have a message for the seniors of America.”

  With that, Earl, Morty, Sol and Stacy rose, shook our hands and headed for the door.

  Earl stopped in front of Ox and gave him a long look. “Abraham Benrubi, the guy that played in Men In Trees. That’s the guy I want to play Ox.”

  A moment later, they were gone.

  “Walt, you and Ox hang around,” the captain said, closing the door.

  “Captain, I really appreciate all this, but ---”

  “No buts,” the captain replied. “Before you dismiss this altogether, you need to listen to Paul. This thing is way bigger than just you and Ox.”

  I had seen Paul Michaels on the news several times. He was the guy from City Hall that was in charge of publicity. Whenever there was a huge convention coming to town or a visit by a dignitary, he was the one responsible for hyping it up.

  “Walt, first let me tell you on behalf of the mayor, the city manager --- well, all of us at city hall, how proud we are of you and Ox.”

  I could see that Paul was the typical politician. He was putting the Vaseline on the shaft before he shoved it up my rear end.

  “Like the captain said, this is an opportunity that doesn’t come along every day. All the TV shows are set in big cities, Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, Seattle. There has never been a TV series set in Kansas City. Think of the exposure for the city and for your department. I have to tell you, the mayor is really excited about this.”

  This was obviously politics as usual. The little guy was the last to know what was going on.

  I was starting to get a little hot under the collar. “So do I have any say about this or is it already a done deal?”

  Paul gave me a condescending look. “It goes without saying that we’d love to have your cooperation and whole-hearted support and the support of your f
riends and family, but like the captain said, this is really bigger than just you.”

  It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines and see that decisions had already been made.

  “Okay then. I’ll visit with my folks and get back with you. Captain, can we get to work now?”

  “Of course --- and Walt, please give this some thought. We’d love to have you on board.”

  By the time Ox pulled our cruiser into traffic, I was fuming. “I didn’t sign up for this! I just want to do my job and enjoy my family.”

  I had expected a show of support from Ox, so I was surprised when his response was, “Who is Abraham Benrubi?”

  “Ox! Aren’t you pissed off just a little bit?”

  He gave me a sheepish look. “You want the truth? I actually think this is kinda cool.”

  “Et tu brute?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. You’re really okay with this?”

  “Think about it. I know you and Maggie watch all those CSI shows. Why not a show based on our Kansas City Police Department? You have to admit --- we’ve been involved in some pretty weird cases.”

  “Oh good Lord!”

  “I know you’re a private guy, Walt, but this could be really big. And think about Mary and Willie --- and Jerry, for heaven’s sake. That guy could probably play himself on the TV show. What a last blast for all of those old folks. Like the captain said, this is bigger than just you.”

  After Ox’s gentle chastising, I clammed up. Maybe it was time to get some feedback from the rest of the gang.

  I looked around at my little group, snarfing pizza and slurping sodas. Each and every one of them had been major players in some of our most bizarre cases. I had to admit that it could make for some pretty interesting TV viewing.

  I called our impromptu meeting to order and watched as their eyes grew wider and their jaws dropped open as I related my meeting with Earl Lassiter and his cohorts.

  When I had finished, Mary was the first to break the silence. “Hot damn! You mean to tell me they gonna make a TV show about the time I whacked that Russian goon with my bat?”

  “That’s very possible,” I replied.

  “Hot damn!”

  I could tell right away that Mary was on board.

  Willie, on the other hand, seemed skeptical. “I don’t see Louie De Lip being real excited ‘bout all dis. He’s mo’ of a background kind o’ guy.”

  “I think we can work around that,” I replied.

  I was beginning to see why I might have to be involved to protect some of my street sources.

  The Professor, of course, couldn’t resist quoting Shakespeare, “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts.”

  He looked around the room, “I can’t wait to see how they put all these parts together!”

  Jerry was bubbling over with excitement. He was a natural performer and like Ox said, I could see him playing himself if this thing ever came to pass.

  “Reminds me of a story,” he said. “A man goes to the doctor because his arm is covered with sores. ‘What do you do for a living?’ asks the doctor. ‘I work in the circus. It’s my job to give the elephants enemas. I have to shove my arm right up their kiesters and clean them out.’ ‘My goodness,’ says the doctor. ‘No wonder your arm’s such a mess. Don’t you think you should look for another job?’ ‘What?’ the man says, ‘and give up show business!’

  It was beginning to look like I was going to be in show business whether I wanted to or not, and like the guy in Jerry’s joke, it was probably going to be a real circus!

  I had figured that when I reported for duty the next morning, the captain would be pressing me for an answer, but when I entered the squad room it was obvious that the captain had bigger things on his plate.

  Sergeant Rocky Winkler, the head of the Drug Enforcement Unit, was standing at the captain’s side.

  Rocky was a tough, no nonsense guy. Our squad had worked with him several months ago when his task force had taken down a Mexican drug cartel that was bringing their product into the city on barges towed up the Missouri River.

  After an introduction by the captain, Sergeant Winkler addressed the squad.

  “As most of you are aware, when we put the Mexicans out of the drug business in Kansas City, that took a lot of product off the streets. Unfortunately, the demand was still there, but there was no major supplier to fill the need. That opened the door for a growing number of local small-time dealers. Meth labs and marijuana farms have been popping up all over the city. We want to nip this in the bud before it becomes an epidemic. The guys in my unit have been compiling a list of suspects that have been purchasing quantities of supplies to cook meth and purchasing ‘grow lights’ to start weed farms in their basements. We’ve gathered enough evidence to obtain warrants and we’re ready to hit these guys hard. I’ve asked the captain to loan some of you to us for the day. Check the duty roster and if you’ve been assigned to our squad, meet in the situation room for your assignments. Thanks for your help.”

  Ox and I checked the roster and sure enough, we had been ‘loaned’.

  We met in the situation room and were assigned to two men from the DEU. They informed us that we were going to serve a warrant on a suspected meth lab.

  The house was on Garfield a block north of Twelfth Street. The DEU guys led the way and we followed in our old Ford.

  The house was an old two-story. The steps to the front porch were missing risers and most of the porch rail was on the lawn.

  The DEU guy knocked on the door. After the second knock, it was opened by an old woman in a ratty housedress with a Marlboro hanging from her lower lip.

  “Yeah, whadda you want?”

  “We have a warrant to search the premises,” the DEU guy said, holding up the sheaf of papers.

  Behind her, I could see a younger, bare-chested fellow with lots of tattoos and a ponytail coming down the stairs from the second floor. As soon as he heard the word ‘warrant’, he took off on a dead run.

  “Got us a runner,” the DEU guy announced. “You guys go after the rabbit. We’ll take the house.”

  Ox pushed past the old woman and we headed through the house in pursuit. By the time we reached the kitchen, the doper was already down the back steps and crossing the yard to the alley that ran behind the house.

  Let’s be honest --- neither Ox nor I are built for speed. Ox was already puffing having just run from the front to the back of the house, and while at seventy, I was pretty fleet of foot for a man my age, I knew my endurance wasn’t what it used to be.

  “This just isn’t going to work,” I said as we saw the guy head up the alley at full speed. “I’ll follow him so he doesn’t double back. You get to the cruiser and cut him off at the other end of the alley.”

  Ox nodded and was off.

  I heard Ox’s siren just as I turned into the alley. In the distance, I saw the perp sprinting to the cross street. He was almost there when I heard the squeal of the tires as the cruiser came to a halt blocking his path.

  The perp came to a sudden stop and looked in both directions. On one side, the two hundred and twenty pound Ox was climbing out of the cruiser. On the other side, a one hundred and forty-five pound cop with gray hair was standing between himself and freedom. Which one do you suppose he chose?

  As he came at me at full speed, I flashed back to that day many years ago, when as a new freshman on the practice squad, I had the ball and tried to run through a senior linebacker. It wasn’t one of my finer moments.

  Fortunately, this time I had an equalizer. I pulled my gun and aimed it at the advancing perp. “Stop right there or I’ll drop you in your tracks!”

  I must have sounded convincing, because he came to a screeching halt.

  “On your knees!” I ordered.

  Naturally, he did just the opposite. The backyard to his left was enclosed by a hedge fence. He took of
f and made a headlong dive over the top.

  I had long since passed the point in my life where I made headlong dives into anything.

  I figured that by the time I found a way into the yard, he would be long gone.

  I stood on my tiptoes and peered into the yard. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. When I saw the huge pit bull straining at the end of his chain, trying to get close enough to the perp to have a taste, I knew that Lady Justice was smiling on us.

  The perp, surrounded by an old cop with a gun and a pit bull with a mouth full of teeth, realized that the jig was up. He fell to his knees and put his hands behind his head.

  Just then, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket with my free hand and pressed the button.

  “Walt, it’s your dad.”

  “Hi Dad. Look, I’m kinda busy right now. Can I call you back?”

  “Don’t think that’s a good idea, Sonny. Did you know that the cops have a big drug bust going on all over the city?”

  “Actually, I’m right in the middle of it. What’s so important?”

  “Me and Bernice were watching I Love Lucy on the tube. The news reporter interrupted the program with breaking news about the drug thing. All of a sudden there she was.”

  “There who was?” I said, getting exasperated.

  “Mary! Mary Murphy! There was a shot of the Three Trails and Mary being led away in handcuffs. Thought you’d want to know.”

  Just when I thought Lady Justice was smiling on me, she pulls something like this. As much as I love her, sometimes she can be a fickle bitch!

  CHAPTER 10

  We loaded our perp into the cruiser and headed downtown.

  The precinct was a veritable zoo. Apparently the drug sweep had been a resounding success. Squad cars loaded with scumbags of every description were pouring into the station.

  I left our genius with Ox and started searching the crowded holding cells for Mary Murphy.

  The clatter and confusion in the place was almost unbearable, but even above all the din, I heard a familiar voice.