by Doug Ball
Abdul had answered, “Tough ones?”
“Yeah, the vets that think they are still in the military and act out the life in every way they can. The place is usually full of camo uniforms with tabs and combat boots. The arguments as to which service is best get rather physical on occasion. The one time I was there a recruiter for a security company was recruiting troops.”
Tank said, “That sounds like one we want to check out. Might be a job in it.”
The man got really angry and stormed off, giving the two cops a reason to leave.
It had been late enough they didn’t find the place until after closing, but they did find that it opened at noon on Sundays.
Phoenix
“Manny, it will not get any better until you fess up and agree with what we already know and then we can get to what you know and we don’t. So, let’s start from the top. Who were you working for on the train robbery?”
“Wasn’t on the train robbery. Don’t know how my prints got on that car. I haven’t ever ridden the train or been in Williams. I need help, my head is killing me.”
“You’ll get help when you start cooperating. How much were you paid for helping in the robbery?”
“Nothing, I wasn’t there.”
“Where’d you get the money we found in your wallet?”
“A friend paid back a debt. I had loaned him money right after I got out of the Army and he caught up with me to pay me back. That’s what I was celebrating. Where’s my girl?”
“She took some cash and left.”
“We never pay her. She gets snooty when she has money. I only feed her.”
“You do more than that. Now, last chance. Who led the attack on the train? There were two deaths and if you do not answer me, I will put you in jail charged with two capital murders. The best you can hope for is to cooperate with me and hope I can convince the State’s Attorney to give you a break. How about it?”
“I have no idea who or what you are talkin’ about. I killed no one and robbed no one.”
“Have it your way.” Chuck turned to the two men with him, “Take him to 4th Street and book him in on two counts of murder, one count each of hiring a prostitute, resisting arrest, attempted flight, and anything else you can think of that might fit. I’ll call the State’s Attorney and see where he wants to go with this, uh, tomorrow.”
The young DPS officer said, “You got it.” He grabbed the man by the collar, “Come on, there’s a cell waiting for you.”
Chuck added, “Make sure everyone knows that he talked his fool head off and we are going after the rest of the train robbers.”
“Wait. You can’t do that. They’ll kill me.” The man was shaking as he spoke.
“Talk or go?”
“I’ll talk.” He sat down with a thud and began, “I was broke and walking the streets of Kingman when a man pulled up . . .”
Three hours later they had their information and called Tan.
“Yeah, Chuck.”
“Got our man here and he told us all he knows, I think. We need to find a man called Jacob Barbarosa, former Marine, leader of the train robbery crew. Then there’s two men with the handles of Archer and Hillbilly. Those two are from the Kingman, Mohave Valley area, also. Archer has a prosthetic leg from the mid-calf down, left leg. Another man in on the heist, had a mean, red, nasty looking scar from the corner of his mouth to the right ear almost. Another was a good 350 lbs and under 5’ 6”.”
“Send me an email with all that and a copy of the statement. See ya soon, real soon I hope.”
“Adios.”
As the call ended, the DPS officers hauled young Manny to jail.
Abdul and Tank walked into the Jungle shortly after 2, walking to the bar, and each came to rest on a stool. “Hey, barkeep, couple a beers here, please.”
“Damned good thing you said please. What kinda beer you want? I got 27 brands here.”
“Surprise us.”
Abdul looked around swaying on his stool. Three other men sat at the bar and two were at a table in the lighted corner near the pool table playing cards of some kind. One man stood before the pool table rubbing his temples between shots on the old leather basket table with obviously new felt and bumpers. As he watched the man rub his temples for the second time, he noticed the man was using the opportunity to scan the joint and, he and Tank in particular.
“We have an admirer,” he whispered to Tank with the bottle in front of his mouth.
“Man, I hate being scoped out after that gay joint last night.”
The bartender came back after serving one of the men at the other end of the bar, “You boys new in town.”
“Kinda, sorta.”
“Where ya from?”
“California. Been there since we got out.” Tank was still in good enough shape to say that.
“Lookin’ for work?”
Abdul said, “Who ain’t. Tried for that big security outfit in Phoenix and they laughed at us. Told us we were too old and outta shape. Man, I ain’t never needed no shape but this one. Tried to tell them that round was a shape, they escorted us out. No sense of humor in them boys. Any work around here?”
“Might be. We’ll have to see when the man comes in, if he does. Lookin’ for shooters down Columbia way, or so he says. Nobody has come back since he hired them. Must be a good job.”
“When’s the man come around?”
“Off and on. Hang out here around nine at night. Seems to be his favorite time.
“How about I give you my number and ask him to call?” Tank asked.
“Won’t work. He wants a face to face meeting. Bring your DD214.”
“Ain’t got one. Lost it.”
“Bring something to show the man.”
The two walked out the door after draining their beers.
Tan’s phone rang as he was getting in his car.
“Brown.”
“Tan, Chuck here. Got a lead on two of the shooters up here that rang bells with Kingman cops. One named, or nicknamed Hillbilly and the other with a prosthetic left leg. The local cops are going out with me to grab them both, we hope. The man with the steel leg is on probation for an arson charge and Hillbilly just got off parole two months ago and has been in the drunk tank many, many times since then. Addresses should be good.”
“Wear your vest.”
“Yes, mommie,” Chuck hated the vest “I will.”
“I’ll tell Rachel on you and she’ll whup your butt.”
“When I marry her, I’ll have three mommies; Mom, her, and you.”
23
“You bet. Go get’em. Let me know when they are in the box.”
“Gotcha, boss.” Chuck hit the end button and walked to the car to get his vest before the locals were ready.
The first address was close to the cop shop. The car Chuck was in stopped in front of the address. The second car was moving into position on the back alley of the flea barn motel room. The probation officer met them in the office which wasn’t much bigger than a double closet.
“You think Hillbilly’s dirty, Dave?”
“There is a possibility. Let’s see how he reacts when you drop in, Pete”
“Okay. How we gonna do this? I haven’t visited him in three weeks.”
Chuck said, “Just make it sound routine until he sees the rest of us when he opens the door.”
“Will do.”
“If he goes bad, you get out of the way.”
“Don’t you worry none. I’m fast and well trained in gettin’ outta the way.” He turned and walked to the door. Chuck on one side, Dave on the other.”
Two raps on the door brought, “Whatta ya want?”
“Hillbilly, I’m here checking up on you. It’s Pete.”
“Go away, I check in tomorrow.”
“You know I gotta check on you where you live once in a while. I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped by. Open the door.”
“You got a search warrant?”
“Don’t need o
ne and you know it.
“Hold your diapers, big man, I gotta get some clothes on.”
“Thirty seconds and then I start writing a letter to the court.”
“Give me a break,” Hillbilly said as he opened the door, one hand holding his pants up.
“Wha…”
Dave went through the door like a rhinoceros, head down and gun out, shoving Hillbilly back onto the bed as he shouted, “Freeze, Police.”
Hillbilly’s face was flushed and he gasped for air as the local cop rolled him over and cuffed him.
Hillbilly said, “You’re kinda sudden. What’re the cuffs for?”
“Jewelry.”
Hillbilly looked at the P.O. “What’s this all about, Pete?”
“Man from the Governor’s office would like to have a few words with you as I check your room. You got a problem with that?”
“Yeah, but it won’t make no difference.”
Chuck walked up and introduced himself and then asked, “What do you know about trains?”
Hillbilly was not a poker player. His face said, ‘everything.’ His voice said, “Nothin’, ‘cept what I read in the paper.”
Chuck looked around, “This room doesn’t look to me like a reader lives here.”
Dave moved to look under the bed. The man on the bed said, “What are you looking for, cop.”
“Dust bunnies. They carry serious deadly diseases this time of the year and I’m doing a health inspection.”
From Pete in the bathroom, “What you doin’ with a bag of .223 ammo under the towel pile, Hillbilly. You hunting squirrels or what?”
“Wise guy. A friend gave me those and I was gonna hock them along with some other stuff so’s I could pay the rent for this week. It’s due tomorrow.”
The cop said from under the bed, “You won’t be here tomorrow.” He rose from behind the bed holding up an AR-15, and a pack filled with camo gear and magazines. “You gonna hock these, too.
Pete said, “Get your pants buttoned, we’re taking you to the jail on a detainer I haven’t yet written up. This was a dumb move for a man that told me he was goin’ straight and gonna start his own business.”
“Yeah, and here’s a chunk of change along with a bracelet I’ll bet will fit the description of goods stolen during the great Grand Canyon Railroad train robbery by Randal McCandless, aka Hillbilly, and his gang.”
“I didn’t lead that.” He fell back knowing he had said too much.
“That isn’t what Manny said.”
“I’ll tell ya what you can do with Manny when we have a private moment. It’s rather intimate.”
Barefooted and chested, Hillbilly was led to the car, pushed gently into the back seat, and locked in while Dave and Chuck finished searching the room. When the officers with the dog and a man from CSI Mojave County showed up, the local officer and the man from the Governor’s office left to take Archer to be detained in a comfy home furnished by the county.
After dropping off Mr. McCandless they went after the second man.
His address turned out to be a private home in a high class neighborhood. “Man, this place must require a train robbery a week just to make the payments,” exclaimed Dave as they exited the car three doors down. Pete pulled up in front of the house.
The three men heard the double beep of the backup car in the alleyway behind the house and walked up the flagstone pathway to the front door where Pete pushed the doorbell button. A sedate bell sounded.
“Just a minute,” a female voice replied to the bell.
Heels across ceramic tile were heard coming toward the door until the door swung open boldly and a woman of questionable age and tremendous beauty opened the door in a dressing gown complete with white poofy fur around the cuffs and hem. “Yes. Oh, what do the police want here?” She said the word police louder than the rest of the question.
Pete said, “We want to talk with Warren, Mrs. Archer.”
“He left not ten minutes ago. Can I help you, Mr. Probation Officer?”
Chuck saw something on an overstuffed hassock and moved by the other two men and the lady. “Warren Archer,” he shouted. “Police, come on out now or we’ll break a few things coming after you.”
They all heard a sliding patio door open in a room to the left. Chuck turned that way and ran into the next room with gun drawn. Seeing a man moving rapidly across the yard on crutches, he yelled, “Halt or I’ll shoot.”
Mrs. Archer screamed, “Run, Warren,” as she grabbed Chuck and spun him around.
A gate slammed open against the back wall, “Stop, Police. Don’t move,” Two voices said almost as if it had been practiced.
One shot sounded.
Followed by two more.
Chuck moved fast as he continued his spin pushing the woman away and followed the man to the fence gate.
“Suspect down,” came through the gate.
They were just kneeling next to the body on the ground as Chuck entered the alley. “Anybody else hurt?”
“No.”
“Cuff him and we’ll take him in if he’s able.”
“He’s dead. Both of us got him.”
The man from the Governor’s office looked at the man lying on his side on the ground. The middle of his back between the shoulder blades was a mess. Two holes, not an inch apart oozed a bit of blood from his chest. The pool of blood under his body grew as he watched. “Call medical, a shoot team, and, oh, you know what to do.” He bent and picked up a gun lying next to the body.
The two officers took charge of the follow up needed in the alley as Chuck and the other two men moved back to the house where Mrs. Archer sat on the hassock hugging the prosthesis with a left shoe on it.
“He hated this thing. If he’d had it on you would have never caught him.”
“If he’d had it on, I wouldn’t have known he was in the house,” Chuck replied. “Mrs. Archer we need to talk.”
He stood next to her as she looked up, tears mingled with makeup streamed down her cheeks. “I suppose we do.”
Patagonia
Tan had returned to his room wondering what great and wonderful things would happen next. He called Matarese on the room phone. No response. He called her cell. No response. He left a message. The files were spread out on the couch and coffee table, and for some reason looked to him like a large flower with a long stem.
The florist in west Phoenix answered on the second ring. Tan gave him the order and his card number. Hanging up he felt a sense of satisfaction knowing the flowers would be delivered to his home within an hour.
“Back to the files. It’s time for things to change in our direction.”
His cell buzzed. “Brown.”
He listened as Chuck told him of the arrest and shooting. Chuck ended with, “We have one more to pick up thanks to the man named Hillbilly who does not want to go down for the two deaths during the robbery.”
“Stay on it. You’re doin’ great. Just keep me posted.”
Chuck hung up and Tan’s phone buzzed again. “Brown.”
“Your handy dandy assistant here. All washed and ready for whatever you need, boss.”
“I need to know what happened with all those finger prints we sent out from the dead men over by Naco. They can’t all be ‘no records match,’ there must be two or three out of the them that come up with something. Also, where’s the info on the print we started with. And, then there’s the .223 round found on the first shooting by Montezuma Pass. We don’t have any of that. Get on it and persist, insist, and – oh, dang, I can’t think of another word that ends with ‘sist that fits the blank spot. Get on it, please. We shoulda had all that days ago and even earlier.”
“Yes, boss. I have the .223 round report. No prints. The other stuff, I’m on it as of now, so desist.” The phone went dead.
Santa Rita Mountains
“This hiding out isn’t all I thought it would be. I can’t shoot anything for fear a Fish and Game cop will come along. I can’t talk to anybody but
myself. Maybe I shoulda brought a ball I could paint a face on and talk to it like in that movie, what was it called? The radio reception is terrible and I have to crank that stupid radio forever just to get the news. The food sucks. All I do is add water and then hope the damned thing tastes better than the last. How did I ever live on MRE’s two and three weeks at a time? Okay, been here three days, talking to myself, Boris hasn’t shown, I have no idea what’s going on, and the Colonel is probably crapping his pants over my silence. I wonder what happened in Naco? Is the Colonel using someone else to get his horror story written? I’ll give it till tomorrow after breakfast and then I’m outta here. Ain’t nobody looking for me cuz they don’t know I exist as a person.”
An hour later, Brad gave up and worked his way down the narrow path heading for his jeep.
South of the Border
One stood beside a man’s body. The body was missing fingers, toe nails, and strips of skin, all of which had been thrown into the gas fire in the false fireplace of his office. It had taken a whole day but they finally got the truth, or at least a story that matched the facts of the bombing of Naco.
The man’s prints had been found on a piece of the triggering device for the Naco bombing. Finding him took a day or so, but he was caught and confronted with the print and the method of triggering the bomb. Cell phones were great triggers. He had been identified by one of the border guards on the Mexican side as a person standing in the shadows of the ‘employees only’ parking area. What had caught the guard’s eye was that the phone was a very old one like he had owned way back when and went over to talk to the man about the qualities of that phone compared to newer ones.
The man had said little and walked away without any conversation concerning the phone. Moments later the bomb went off, the guard was knocked down by the blast, and as he was getting up, the man cheered and ran to a car that then left the scene heading south.
The Colonel, One’s father, said, “Mijo, you are getting a bit on the gruesome side when it comes to interrogation.”
