The Victim at Vultee Arch

by Charles Williamson

  “That’s the problem,” I said. “I don’t think he’s a monster, and I’m positive that he loves those boys. Maybe Chad’s right, and it’s a frame up.”

  NEW YORK:

  Henry Griffin slammed the receiver down on his direct line telephone. He was furious and wanted to strangle someone, anyone, with his bare hands. When his assistant called with his next appointment, he was still too upset to attend the meeting with the out-of-town investor. Henry had just learned that the moron who’d furnished the snake had tried to shoot a lawman without even checking with him. Who did he think was running this show? Not only had the fool attracted attention with the shooting, he’d failed to even kill Mike Damson. The lawsuit should have solved the Arizona problem, but that halfwit had attracted more attention. He’d pay for it with his life even if Henry had to throttle him personally. He longed to get his hands around the moron’s thick neck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  On Wednesday morning, Chad phoned. “Hi Mike, I called with an update on our snake man. Reggie has a wrap sheet with nearly a dozen petty crimes. His records are from the Little Rock area. They include a series of small time robberies, assaults, and two convictions for distribution of meth. He moved to Arizona five years ago, but there’re no crimes reported here.”

  “Not many people escape from the meth culture. He’s probably still involved,” I said.

  “I’ll do some investigating while you’re in New York. I’d like to nail the bastard on general principle. I think Reggie either furnished that snake or used it himself to kill Quentin Thatcher,” he said.

  “Reggie’s a rattlesnake himself. Margaret and I will be staying at the Parker Meridian in New York. We’ll snoop around at Bank E & A. If it looks like a dead end, we’ll come back in a couple of weeks. I’ll keep my cell phone with me all the time. I’ll call you at least once a day with an update, and you can fill me in on what’s going on here,” I said.

  The rest of the day was involved with preparations to be out of town and other mundane matters like buying presents for our granddaughters. I went to Mail Boxes and faxed my updated résumé to the security agency that provided guards to Bank E & A indicating that I preferred a job within an area of midtown that included the tower in which the bank was located. I was honest about my suspension but indicated that I might relocate to New York permanently because my only son lived there. I provided his phone number and address as well as Rose Rios as a person who could verify my previous employment. Of course, I had no gun permit for New York and wouldn’t be taking my weapon, but this security job only required that I carry a flashlight and cell phone.

  Margaret came home from work early, and we finished packing and caught the shuttle to the Phoenix Airport. We had a three-hour wait for our airplane in Phoenix and then a five-hour flight to LaGuardia. I slept most of the way, but I was not relaxed or rested when we reached New York at 6:30 the next morning. A cold rain was falling as we waited half an hour for a cab. The overcast was so heavy, that I couldn’t tell when the sun rose over the waterlogged city. The Pakistani cab driver dodged through the traffic as a recording welcomed us to New York and insisted that we buckle up and not smoke. The traffic was heavy as we crossed the East River on the Tri Borough Bridge and headed to our son’s Upper East Side apartment. The city was glaring and noisy in rush hour, and I remembered why we preferred John, Sue and the girls visit us in Sedona.

  At their apartment, the doorman sheltered us with a huge umbrella and helped us with our bags. We’d packed for an extended stay, not knowing how long our investigation of Bank E & A might last.

  John hadn’t left for work yet, and he came down to help carry our bags. In the elevator he said, “Dad, some security company called and said they were interested in interviewing you for a job. From senior homicide detective in Los Angeles to hick town deputy sheriff to rent-a-cop in only three years, how the mighty have fallen,” he said with a grin. Margaret had filled him in on our plot, and he seemed to enjoy being part of the conspiracy.

  “We needed a little extra money to pay for this vacation,” I said playing along with the joke.

  “You and Mom should have stayed with us. We could’ve put the girls on the couch.”

  “Sweetie, we love the girls too much to put them out. We’ll be more comfortable in a hotel, but we’ll get together every evening for dinner,” Margaret said. We loved the twins more than words can tell, but they were six and had unlimited energy. A two-bedroom, thousand square foot apartment could hardly contain their constant activity.

  Our plan was for Margaret to mingle with the staff of Bank E & A getting people to talk about potential problems at the bank and about Henry Griffin, our prime suspect. If I could get on the night security crew, I’d snoop a little as I made my rounds. Margaret was confident she could find friends of Dr. Thatcher who would help us figure out the motive. I wasn’t sure what incriminating evidence I might discover, but I badly wanted some time to look around in Griffin’s private office.

  Sue was feeding breakfast to the twins, Jenny and Lisa. They needed to meet the school van downstairs in half an hour. Our arrival disrupted Sue’s carefully planned morning agenda, and she ended up having to drive the kids to school in the rain because of a missed bus. John headed for work at 8:30, leaving me to take a nap after our long flight. I had not been able to sleep on the airplane because of my sore back and the uncomfortable seat.

  First I called the security agency. One of the regular guards at Bank E & A was on medical leave, and the company was short handed for people willing to take a midnight to seven shift. That was a lucky break for me. I wanted to be in the building at night. I agreed to come to their offices at 1:00 that afternoon to be interviewed and complete their paperwork. The woman asked if I could work tonight if I passed their rigorous screening process.

  One hour later, I was napping when my cell phone rang. It was Rose. “Hi Mike, I called to let you know that a woman named Sadie Schrum was checking on you. She’s from Preferred Security of Manhattan and seemed thrilled that a man with your experience applied for a job. She asked some questions about your suspension.”

  “I put that on the résumé,” I said.

  “Sadie seemed to hope that you’ll never be reinstated,” Rose said. “It was clear that she wanted you to stay in New York and work for them. She also wanted to know how much you were making with the Sheriff’s Department, but I said that I couldn’t disclose that information.”

  “Thanks Rose. You’ve been a big help,” I said.

  “I’m glad to help as long as you promise to come back to Sedona when you catch the bad guys.”

  I’d been straight with Rose, but I had helped persuade her to stay with the Sheriff’s Department. I was now having second thoughts about staying with them myself even if we solved this case and got the lawsuit dismissed. I wasn’t going to lie to her, but I hadn’t actually made up my mind. “There’s no way I’ll stay in New York; Margaret and I are in love with Sedona.” She seemed satisfied with that answer.

  Sue fixed us lunch at 11:30, and I headed for my interview at 12:15. I decided to walk the eight blocks in spite of the rain because I assumed that a security guard wouldn’t waste money on a taxi for that distance. Margaret took a cab to her temp worker company’s office. It was on forty-second and too far to walk on a rainy day. We agreed to meet at the hotel after our interviews. Sue had the doorman send our bags directly to the Parker Meridian so we didn’t need to fool with them.

  The security company’s administrative headquarters was a four-person office on the second floor above a jewelry and electronics store on Seventh Avenue. I was introduced to everyone present, a secretary, a bookkeeper, and Mrs. Sadie Schrum, employment manager. The office manager, Mr. Gonzalez was on vacation. I filled out six pages of paperwork and had a photo taken before I was ushered into Sadie Schrum’s office.

  Sadie was a black-haired brown-eyed beauty in her early thirties. There was almost no makeup on her slightly freckled face, but
it would have been difficult to improve on nature’s work. I wondered why she wasn’t a model or actress with those compelling looks.

  “Your résumé indicates that you prefer to work nights. Why is that?” she asked after the introductory conversation.

  “Miss Schrum, my wife and I are staying with my son and his family. It will be easier for me to sleep during the day while the kids are at school and everyone else is at work,” I said. I felt slightly guilty about the lie. I couldn’t tell her that we would be staying at an expensive hotel on the puny wages she would offer.

  “Please call me Sadie. We’re one big family here at Preferred Security. You’ve specified that you would only work in a small area of Manhattan where we only have a couple of customers. Why was that?” she asked. She was smiling and making notes. She focused on me as if I was the most important person in her life right now.

  “I don’t like your subway system or buses. I’d rather walk to work and get that fresh air, and those cabs are too expensive for everyday,” I said. I realized that this was a weak part of my cover. I had expected the question, but I hadn’t come up with a better answer.

  “I understand Mike. The subway makes me uncomfortable late at night,” her body moved toward me as if straining to soak in every detail of anything I said.

  “I respect the fact that you mentioned your current suspension on your résumé. Please tell me all about it Mike,” she said as she adjusted her blouse and crossed her legs. She moistened her lips with her tongue and gazed directly into my eyes with her big brown ones.

  “I got the county in some hot water. Valuable evidence was stolen from the office I managed. The company whose papers were taken is suing the county government for a huge amount. I was responsible for keeping the papers safe, and I failed. The sheriff suspended me for thirty days because it was my responsibility.”

  “Tough break Mike. Do you expect to spend your whole thirty days in New York?” She put her hand on mine in sympathy and stared into my eyes occasionally blinking her long lashes. I wondered if she was deliberately coming on to me, surely not. She was young enough to be my daughter. I thought that I must have been imagining it.

  “You look exceptionally healthy Mike, with those very broad shoulders and with that trim waist. Your hands are very large and masculine. I’ll bet you can use them effectively to defend yourself or for other things. There’re not many men your age who keep in great shape. Do you have any physical limitations that the company should know about? Why do you have that bandage on your temple?” she asked. I was definitely uncomfortable with the interview now. She unconsciously fiddled with the top button of her starched white blouse. She adjusted her long black hair with her left hand and smiled coyly.

  “It’s just a scratch. I had a complete physical two months ago. I got a clean bill of health.” I was glad I had my raincoat on my lap as she unbuttoned the top button to her blouse, and fanned herself slightly with her left hand.

  “My, it’s gotten very warm in here since you arrived. I can definitely feel the heat now. I have some good news,” she said as she smiled and moved forward to the edge of her chair. Her breasts were thrust forward over the desk nearly overturning her coffee cup. “I’ve checked you out quite thoroughly Mike, and you’ve made a good impression since I saw you walk in. You carry yourself well. The job is yours, but I assume you’re not surprised. I’ll bet you’re used to getting your way. I’ve put an exceptional man like you in our top pay grade, $14 an hour. I’m certain I won’t be sorry about hiring a big man like you. I look forward to getting better acquainted Mike.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I can start tonight.”

  “Excellent Mike,” she said as she adjusted her skirt, which had ridden up on her leg to reveal most of her thighs. “You need to report to work at 11:00 tonight. That way Phillip can show you the ropes before he goes off duty at midnight. You’ll find Phillip Manchester on the thirty-second floor of the office tower on the northwest corner of 66th and Madison. There’s a guard station with a bank of monitors near the elevator. You should wear a navy blazer if you have one. You don’t need a tie on the night shift. Phillip will give you one of our shields to put in the blazer pocket. Payday is every Friday, and most men come to the office to receive their rewards in person. We should go have a drink to celebrate your new job.”

  “Sorry, I’ll have to take a rain check on the drink. I need to meet my wife in a few minutes,” I said. I stood and shook hands. She looked into my eyes invitingly and glanced at my crotch as I turned to leave.

  As I left the office, I held the raincoat draped over my arm in front of me. The secretary winked and said in a stage whisper, ”She does that to all the cute ones.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I walked briskly toward the hotel through the drizzle. I reached the Parker Meridian before Margaret arrived and checked into our room. I bought a box of fancy Valrhona chocolates and a bottle of vintage Bordeaux before heading to the room to wait for Margaret. The bellman delivered our luggage, and I unpacked for both of us. I took off my damp clothes and showered. I was wrapped in the soft hotel robe having a glass of wine when Margaret arrived.

  “Are we celebrating our new jobs?” she asked with a twinkle.

  “I planned a long period of celebrating before we go to John and Sue’s for dinner,” I said.

  We put out the do not disturb sign. About 6:00, we dressed and took a cab to our son’s apartment. It smelled wonderful when we entered. Sue was in the kitchen fixing something special for our first dinner in New York. Sue is a freelance writer and works from home. She is also an excellent cook and a wonderful mother to our granddaughters.

  “What smells so great?” I asked John as we entered.

  “That’s Sue’s veal Marsala. We’re Italian tonight,” John said. Sue had an Italian grandmother who had taught her to cook in the manner of the old country.

  “That’s a great meal for a celebration. We’ve both gotten the jobs we were after. Mike starts tonight at 11:00 and I start tomorrow morning at 9:00,” Margaret said.

  I sat on the floor playing with the girls while Margaret went into the kitchen to help Sue.

  “Dad, I know you’re not a quitter, but you don’t need this sheriff’s department job. You and Mom should just enjoy your retirement. Those locals don’t respect your professionalism and most of the stuff you do is boring,” John said.

  “I tried retirement for three months and found I wasn’t ready for it,” I explained. “I’ve been thinking that doing private investigations would give me the greatest flexibility. I have a good reputation, and I could get referrals from friends in LA and Arizona. If I choose cases well, I could avoid the dull ones. Even if the work wasn’t steady, we’d be fine financially. Maybe we’d get more travel as part of that career. Your mother would enjoy that.”

  “That’s a great idea Dad. Mom said you were almost killed by a sniper the other day. You should find something less dangerous to do at your age,” John said.

  “I thought I had when we moved to Sedona, but I’d been involved in a number of dangerous situations there. I still know how to protect myself, Son.” This was not the first time John had indicated that he thought I was too old for law enforcement. It always upset me, but I had actually made some bonehead mistakes recently. There was time to sort through that when the Quentin Thatcher case was resolved.

  I played with the twins while John and I talked about his job and about other things until Sue called everyone in for dinner. The meal was delicious, but the twins were not happy with the gourmet food, and Sue microwaved some macaroni and cheese for them.

  Margaret and I headed for our hotel by 8:00 so that I could get some rest before my night shift. I had time only for an ineffective nap before the alarm roused me at 10:00. I was dressed and walking through the cold drizzle by 10:45. The streets were still busy, and cabs rushed by splashing water at me at every intersection, but the brisk air made me fully awake by the time I reached the office tower. The
building guard was expecting me. He gave me a badge with my own photo on it, which I hung around my neck by a black cord. The guard explained that I needed it to operate the elevators between 8:00 PM and 7:00 AM. He worked for a different company from the security detail at Bank E & A which occupied only the thirty-second and thirty-third floors.

  I rode up to the Bank E & A office where I entered a dimly lit area with impressive signage and plush oriental rugs over a marble floor. Several leather couches and half a dozen chairs were spread around among dozens of tropical plants. The walnut paneled walls were decorated with photos of landmarks from the many countries in which the bank had offices. There was a small oil painting of the Sedona area, probably the view from the company’s retreat center. A panel slid back to reveal a door through which a heavyset black man in a navy blazer emerged. He was Phillip Manchester, a jovial man who I liked immediately.

  “Welcome Mike. It’s great to meet you. I’m to show you around tonight, but I’ll give you my home phone number in case there’s something I forgot to tell you. It’s an easy job, and the people here on the night shift are nice.”

  He handed me a gold colored badge for my blazer pocket and took me through the almost invisible door in the paneling to the monitor room. A bank of fourteen color monitors showed both floors of the Bank E & A offices. Most of the space on this floor was a single large room. The room was where all the securities transactions occurred, and Phil explained that the trading room was a riot of action and chatter in a normal business day.

  “Over a hundred and fifty people staff the room from 9:00 until 5:00,” he said, “but in the middle of the night there are always four or five traders present. They’re kept here to coordinate things with the offices in Asia and Europe in case something important happens while the New York traders are home for the night. They must always have the photo badge around their neck, but otherwise I just leave them alone.”