Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 1

by Remington Kane

  Jacob called to her.

  “Could I see you sometime, maybe just for coffee?”

  “Jacob... I...”

  He smiled.

  “I understand; I’m not your type.”

  “No! It’s not that, it’s just that things are complicated for me right now.”

  “Okay, but I’ll see you around.”

  “Maybe, but it is a big city.”

  “Oh, I’ll see you around, count on it,” Jacob said, and then he watched Velma until she disappeared into the lobby.

  After Velma entered the building, Jacob drove into a parking garage a half block away, when he exited on foot, he walked back to the Caliber building and slipped inside.

  CHAPTER 4

  Inside the Caliber building, in the detective agency, the two Jakes had a visitor.

  His name was Thomas Delaney. He was a fourth generation homicide detective and the grandson of Jake Caliber’s oldest friend. Delaney was a big man with short black hair and a trim moustache. He was married and the father of a boy and a girl. He sipped on a glass of whiskey as he shared a bit of news.

  “Deke Stoddard gets released today.”

  The younger Jake nodded his head.

  “Thanks for the tip; I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

  “Do that. Deke will come after you; he’s too stupid not to, it’s one of the reasons that he’s spent most of his life in prison.”

  “Jakey?”

  “Yes, Granddad?”

  “If you see that punk, plant ‘im, otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”

  “I’ll be fine, besides, I’ve got my own personal bodyguard now, remember?”

  The two men shared a chuckle and Delaney looked back and forth at them.

  “What’s this about a bodyguard?”

  “It’s a long story, Tommy; I’ll tell you later over a beer.”

  “No can do, Jake; it’s parent/teacher night at the school. Jenny would kill me if I missed it.”

  “All right, but how about the ball game on Sunday? A client sent me four tickets, so you can even bring your boy along.”

  Delaney stood and headed for the door.

  “It sounds good, but right now I’d better get back to the station.”

  Delaney opened the door and Velma rushed in.

  “Mr. Caliber, I am so sorry I’m late, but my damn rental got two flats.”

  “Don’t worry about it, kid; we don’t punch a time clock around here, and besides, it’s been slow lately.”

  Delaney held out his hand.

  “Since neither one of these savages will introduce us, I’ll do it. My name is Tom Delaney. I take it that you’re Velma’s niece? I can see a resemblance.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Delaney. I’m Velma Channing.”

  “That’s Lieutenant Delaney,” the old man said. “Tommy there comes from a long line of flatfoots.”

  “It was nice to meet you too, Velma, and I’ll see you guys on Sunday.”

  After Delaney left, Velma took his vacated seat.

  “So what’s on the schedule for today?”

  Jake stood and grabbed his hat.

  “Why don’t you tag along while I pay an old friend a visit; his name is Deke Stoddard.”

  “Jakey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sure about that? Why go looking for trouble?”

  “Trouble’s coming one way or another, I might as well get it over with, huh?”

  The old man nodded.

  “Good point.”

  The sound of a scream came from the outer office, followed by the words, “Oh my God!” and all three detectives rushed towards the door. Velma reached it first and flung it open to find Jacob with Kelli, her eyes filling with tears.

  Velma rushed over and separated the two.

  “What the hell’s going on here? Are you following me?”

  Before Jacob could answer her, Jake walked over and encompassed Jacob in a massive bear hug that lifted him off his feet.

  “Welcome home, little brother!”

  Velma cocked her head.

  “Little brother? He’s a Caliber?”

  “That’s Chris,” Kelli said. “Do you two know each other?”

  “He gave me a ride after my car broke down, but he said his name was Jacob.”

  Chris walked over to her with a grin.

  “Christopher Jacob Caliber, at your service.”

  Two strong hands reached out and spun Chris around by his shoulders and he found himself face to face with his grandfather. The old man looked him over from head to toe.

  “Hello, Granddad, it’s been a long time.”

  The old man took him in his arms and whispered in his ear.

  “It’s good to have you home, boy; I love you.”

  Chris whispered back, “I love you, too.” and then the two separated.

  Kelli grabbed a compact from her purse and stared into it.

  “Oh, my mascara is running, but I was so happy to see you Chris that I cried.”

  “You look good, Kelli, how’s your mom?”

  “She’s great; you should stop by and say hello.”

  “I’ll do that, and I really wish I could stay here and catch up, but I’m meeting Mom at the coffee shop around the corner and then I’m off to my job interview.”

  “I was wondering why you were dressed like a stiff,” Jake said.

  “It’s the uniform of the corporate world, big brother. They would never let me in the door if I showed up in jeans.”

  “Good luck with the interview, and say hello to Mother.”

  “I’ll be back later,” Chris said, and then he spoke to Velma. “I hope you’ll be around then?”

  Velma stared into his eyes.

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Good, now I better get going or I’ll be late, and you know how Mom can be.”

  Velma watched him leave and then turned around to find everyone looking at her.

  “What?”

  “My little brother has a thing for you.”

  “He was just being friendly.”

  Kelli smirked.

  “Yes, Caliber men are known for their friendliness, particularly when it comes to good-looking women.”

  The old man clapped Jake on the back.

  “Come back into the office, you girls too; I want to plan some sort of welcome home dinner for Chris; it can also double as a 'congrats on the new job' party.”

  “I’ll be in soon, Mr. Caliber,” Kelli said. “I just have to fix my face first.”

  ***

  Chris galloped down the stairs two at a time and then rushed through the lobby and out onto the street. He went left, turned at the corner and walked a block over to the Pegasus Coffee House.

  As soon as he walked through the door, he was shoved from behind and landed on his backside. When he looked up, he saw the customers and staff bunched together over behind the counter, as two men held guns on them. His mother was standing on the left side of the crowd. Gail Caliber looked more worried than fearful, as she sent her son a weak smile of assurance.

  A third man walked up from behind and pointed a gun at him. The man’s face was covered by a ski mask, while the other men simply had bandana’s covering their noses and mouths. All three men bore reptilian eyes that held not a hint of compassion.

  “Be cool, dude, and hand over your phone and wallet.”

  After a slight hesitation, Chris did as he was told. The man then grabbed a cloth sack that was tucked into his belt and tossed the wallet and cell phone inside, afterwards; he pointed the gun at Chris again.

  “Sit right there on your ass and don’t move. If you try to stand, I’ll shoot you, capice?”

  Chris nodded his understanding and the man moved over to the counter where he proceeded to fill the bag with the other customer’s belongings. When he got to the man standing beside Chris’s mother, he put the gun to his temple.

  “What do you mean you don’
t have a phone? A yuppie like you?”

  “I... I left it home by mistake,” the man said. He was white, about forty, and dressed in a sports jacket and designer jeans.

  The man with the ski mask pressed the gun harder against the other man’s head. “You’re lying.”

  Moments later, a shot rang out.

  ***

  For the second time in less than an hour, Kelli cried out, “Oh my God!”

  They rushed into the outer office to find her staring at the TV in the corner. It was an old, projection style set.

  “What the hell is going on now?” the old man said.

  Kelli looked over at them with eyes brimming with tears as she pointed at the screen.

  “I received a phone call from downstairs telling me to turn on channel twelve, and when I did I... it’s Chris.”

  “This is Diane Gale with a Channel 12 exclusive. Once again, you’re viewing a live feed of a robbery in progress. Our Action News Team cameraman, Doug Kelly, is the man with the gun at his head, while the man sitting on the floor at the left side of the screen was the last unlucky patron to enter the establishment. Again, we do not know where this is taking place and can only surmise that Doug had the presence of mind to activate his camera and phone before the robbers could discover them. Judging by the angle, they must be sitting atop a corner table and—wait! The man is speaking again.

  “What do you mean you don’t have a phone? A yuppie like you?”

  “I... I left it home by mistake.”

  “You’re lying.”

  A moment later, the diner’s short order cook reached under the counter and came up with a handgun. The man with the ski mask grabbed his wrist and banged his hand against the counter, causing the gun to go off and fire a shot into the wall. Next, he viciously pistol whipped the cook, opening a series of bloody gashes across the man’s head. When he released him, the man’s body fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

  “Where the hell did that gun go?” said ski mask, as he and his companions searched the floor behind the counter.

  The whispered words, “Oh God, Chris, no,” came from Gail Caliber’s mouth and caused the three robbers to look up. When they did, they found Chris standing, holding the gun, and pointing it at the man in the ski mask.

  “There’s three of us, dude,” said ski mask, “Even if you get me; they’ll kill you.”

  “Chris,” Gail Caliber said. “Please, honey, drop the gun before they hurt you.”

  Ski mask reached over and grabbed Gail by the hair, to yank her in front of him as a shield; he then placed his gun to her head.

  “Drop the damn gun or I’ll blow her head off!”

  A second passed, and then Chris shot ski mask between the eyes, then, with a blur of motion, he killed the other two men. Afterwards, he calmly lowered his arm and let the weapon fall to the floor.

  “Diane?”

  “Diane? We’re live.”

  “Right, yes, I apologize ladies and gentlemen, but that was without doubt one of the most shocking things you’ll ever see, but... the robbery is over and everyone is safe thanks to that... incredible marksman. I have never seen shooting like that and I was an army brat. We apologize for losing the feed, but we can only assume that our cameraman, Doug, is repositioning his equipment and—yes, yes, we have Doug back now.

  The television studio was replaced by a split second of static and then the coffee shop appeared, with Chris in the foreground, behind him, the other patrons were rushing out the door in a panic, as the sound of sirens grew closer. Standing beside Chris was his mother and Chris had his left arm draped around her shoulders. Then, the cameraman spoke as he scanned the restaurant.

  “Diane I’m here in the Pegasus Coffee House in lower Manhattan, where a wild scene just took place as a brutal robbery came to a sudden and stunning conclusion. Three armed men took me and the other patrons hostage, and, if not for the bravery and skill of the man in front of me, things might have turned out much different.”

  “Doug, can you tell us the condition of the man that was beaten?”

  “I’m sorry to report this, Diane, but the man died from that vicious beating.”

  “And the three robbers?”

  “They are all deceased, Diane; all three killed by shots fired dead center between their eyes.”

  “Incredible, absolutely incredible, but tell us, what’s our hero’s name?”

  Chris held his mother and felt her tremble as the camera panned about the scene, then, suddenly, the camera was pointed at his face, as the reporter asked a question.

  “What’s your name, sir?”

  “My name?”

  “Yes.”

  Chris stared into the camera with an unblinking gaze.

  “My name is Caliber!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Central Park in New York City

  Christopher Caliber sat back on a bench along poets’ walk and watched the pigeons peck at the ground. Above his head, the elm trees swayed in a gentle breeze as dozens of people passed before him. He wore jeans, blue sneakers, and despite the warm spring weather, he also wore a jacket with the hood pulled up.

  Velma Channing walked over and sat beside him.

  “Hi Chris.”

  “Thanks for coming, Velma.”

  “You’re welcome.

  Chris looked around.

  “I always liked this place when I was a kid. Have you seen the statues?”

  “Why are we meeting here, Chris?”

  “I just need someone to talk to, face to face.”

  Velma swiveled toward him.

  “I’m listening.”

  Chris got up and began pacing in front of the bench.

  “What happened yesterday, the shooting, I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I shot three men dead, and the way I shot them... I don’t know how I did that, where that came from. I wasn’t lying when I told you that I’ve never held a gun, had never even fired one. It’s true, and yet I killed three men in less than a second.”

  “I have a theory about that,” Velma said.

  Chris sat back down beside her.

  “What’s your theory?”

  “I think it’s genetics; I think that somehow your family developed the sharpshooter gene, for lack of a better term, and that you inherited it from your grandfather.”

  “Genetics? I don’t know, maybe it was just a fluke.”

  Velma stood up.

  “Why don’t we find out?”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a rifle club in midtown Manhattan. Velma had planned to have Chris do a little target practice, but upon entering the club, she saw a sign.

  No Walk-ins!

  Five Days Notice Required!

  As they were about to turn and leave, the man behind the counter came over and began shaking Chris’s hand enthusiastically.

  “Mr. Caliber, welcome sir.”

  Chris took a step back.

  “You know me?”

  Velma grinned.

  “You can hide beneath that hood all you want, but the video of you in the coffee shop is still playing on all the news channels; sooner or later you’re bound to be recognized.”

  “I was, three times before I pulled the hood up. A woman even asked me to kiss her baby.”

  Velma laughed.

  “Face it Chris, you’re a bona fide hero, just like your grandfather.”

  ***

  Chris stood in the shooting range. On the stand before him sat a rifle; a .22 Ruger that held ten rounds of ammo.

  The man who greeted them at the counter was also the owner. His name was Carl and he stood to the side with four other men, all of them eager to watch the city’s newest hero take his shots.

  Velma handed Chris his eye and ear protection and then donned her own. As Chris picked up the rifle, she pulled back one of the protective muffs over his ear and whispered.

  “Maybe this isn’t a
good test. You’re unfamiliar with the rifle, there are people gawking at you and I think Carl sent that target as far back as it can go. Can you even see the bullseye from here?”

  “I can see it, and I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Okay then, whenever you’re ready.”

  Chris pressed the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and sighted down the barrel. A moment later, he was sending off shots, one after another. When he finished, he sat the rifle down and took off the safety gear.

  Carl reeled the target in and everyone gathered around to look at it. In the center of the bulls eye was a single hole.

  Velma shrugged.

  “One out of ten is still exceptional Chris, especially considering your inexperience.”

  Carl cocked his head as he stared at it.

  “Hold on a second, Mr. Caliber; I need to check something.”

  Carl opened the gate and walked back to the bullet trap on the back wall, the trap was composed of stacks of old phone books and Carl looked them over for nearly a minute. As he pulled a knife from his pocket, he called everyone over.

  “I just loaded this trap up with phonebooks this morning, and look, there’s just one wide hole, in this one here, see it?”

  Velma nodded.

  “Yes, so where did the other bullets go?”

  Carl grinned and then began digging into the hole in the phonebook. A minute later, he held ten slugs in his hand.

  “There was only one hole in the target because all ten shots went through the same hole, and mister, if I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes I’d have said it was impossible.”

  ***

  Velma parked her rental in the garage near the Caliber building. As they walked towards the exit, a man approached them while talking into his cell phone.

  As they came even with the man, he struck Velma with a vicious left on the chin that picked her up and sent her falling backwards. She landed upon the concrete floor, unmoving. Next, the man pulled out a gun and aimed it at Chris.

  “You’re Jake Caliber’s brother, right? The guy that shot those punks in the coffee shop?”

  “Yeah, yes... who the hell are you?”

  “It don’t matter. It’s just that I owe your brother a debt and I’m gonna use you to repay it.”