by Mike Befeler
“May I help you?” he asked.
I appraised him carefully, noting a triangular face with a few freckles and a serious, intense expression on his puss.
“I’m looking for a stuffed animal.”
“All along the shelf over there,” he waved his hand to the right.
I ambled over past some toy cars and airplanes and inspected the collection of furry creatures.
“There’s a line of Hawaiian stuffed animals, each with a passport. Do you have any?”
He grinned. “As a matter of fact I have one in stock.” He drifted over, bent down and rummaged through the shelf. He thrust his hand up like he’d found a treasure and exhibited an orange crab.
I inspected it closely. The label indicated the name “Hihe’e,” meaning sideways running Hawaiian crab. It looked just like the description I remembered of Jennifer’s boyfriend Neal Wooten.
“I’ll take it,” I said. “You stocking any more of these?”
“I have to order them on-line.”
“I’d suggest bringing in a boatload. I may be needing to buy additional ones.”
Reaching into my wallet, I found only one bill, so I handed the fifty-spot over to pay.
“You the proprietor of this place?” I asked.
“Yeah. Owner and sole employee.”
“Do much business?”
He shrugged. “Not too busy lately, but it should pick up in a few weeks when more tourists visit Boulder.” He handed me two twenties, a dollar bill, some coins and the crab in a brown paper bag.
I almost dropped the money when I saw red blobs on the two twenty-dollar bills.
After leaving the shop, I found a bench to sit down on. Once the adrenaline rush had worn off from finding the marked money, I looked up at the blue sky and sat comfortably in the warmth of a late spring afternoon. I yawned. Then I took out the notepad and jotted down what had happened.
* * * * *
I awoke with a start. A pigeon sat a foot from my face staring at me. I blinked. Where the hell was I? I stretched my arms, and the pigeon hopped off and began pecking at something on the ground. I surveyed my surroundings and discovered I was attached to a bench on some sort of downtown mall. Didn’t recognize it. Standing up I decided to explore.
Groups of teenagers sat on the lawn by a three-story building, some talking, some kicking a hackie-sack, some smoking. Boy, was I glad I never took up smoking. I’d probably be dead from lung cancer if I had.
I entered a shop and wandered through aisles of crafts, shirts, refrigerator magnets and maps of Colorado. I decided I must be in Colorado. Then in a rack of bumper stickers, one caught my eye. I chuckled. I had to buy that one. It read, “Old age is not for sissies.”
At the counter I extracted a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet and shoved it over the counter to the clerk.
He stared at me and said, “May I see some ID? I can’t sell this to you unless you’re over seventy-five.”
I did a double-take, but since I already had my wallet out, I showed him my identification.
He looked at it, then smiled. “Just kidding, Mr. Jacobson. You’re a good sport.”
I laughed. “You got me on that one.”
The clerk stared at the twenty-dollar bill I had given him. “Look at this. It has red marks on it.”
I examined the money. Since this guy had a good sense of humor, I replied, “Left over from a bank robbery.”
He gave me a wan smile. “Just as long as it’s not counterfeit.”
He forked over my change, and I told him to drop my purchase in the brown bag I already had.
“Thanks, Mr. Jacobson. You can buy more bumper stickers any time . . . without your ID.”
Just then music started playing in my pocket. “What’s that?” I shouted.
“Sounds like your cell phone.”
I reached in my pocket and extracted a silver object that I had never seen before. “How does this damn thing work?”
The clerk leaned over. “Push the green button and speak into it.”
I whacked the button and put it in front of my mouth. “Hello?”
“Hold it to the side of your face.”
I did as instructed. “Hello?”
“No you have it upside down.”
I flipped it over. “Hello?”
“Grandpa, are you all right?”
I didn’t recognize the voice. “Who’s this?”
“This is your granddaughter Jennifer.”
“You sound older than I remember.”
“Did you fall asleep?”
“Yeah, I just woke up from a nap. Where am I?”
I heard a sigh on the phone. “Let me give you directions on how to get home.”
* * * * *
When I arrived at the address given me, my daughter-in-law met me at the door. “I understand you fell asleep downtown.”
“Something like that. Where’s Jennifer?”
“She went off to Rebecca’s house to spend the night. She asked me to remind you to write in your journal and to tell you she’d catch up with you tomorrow.”
I opened the paper bag I was carrying and found a stuffed animal crab. “I guess I bought this for Jennifer.” I handed it to Allison. “You can give it to her from me if you see her before I do.”
* * * * *
The next morning I slept late. Upon awakening, I spotted a note and a journal on the nightstand. “Read this before you get in any more trouble, you old goat.” I examined it closely: my handwriting. I read a few pages recounting how I had flown to Denver to live with my family. I thumbed through some more pages and then read a random section about Jennifer being my lawyer. I decided I’d finish the missive after I shaved and dressed. I put on Bermuda shorts, sandals and a T-shirt with a picture of a whale on it. I had finished shaving when Allison called to me.
“Paul, you have a visitor.”
“Is it a long lost girlfriend or have I won the Publishers’ Clearing House sweepstakes?”
“No, it’s a detective to see you.”
Why would a detective want to see me? I ambled out into the living room to find a tall, skinny man in a suit.
I stared at him. “You an undertaker? I didn’t think I’d died yet.”
“Very funny, Mr. Jacobson.”
“Do I know you?”
He held out police identification.
“I see you chew your nails.” I read the name Detective Lavino. “I don’t recognize the name or face.”
He pulled back his identification and stood with his hands behind his back.
“Mr. Jacobson, I’m here to take you to police headquarters for questioning. You have the right to remain silent—”
“What’s this all about?”
“Anything you say—”
“I need my lawyer.” I turned and hollered, “Jennifer!”
“She’s at swim practice,” Allison said, wringing her hands.
“You have the right—”
“Hold it. You don’t have to go through all that Miranda crap.”
“If you cannot afford—”
“I know the words but not why you’re going through this.”
“You can decide at any time—”
Denny heard the commotion and rushed into the room. “What’s happening?”
“Your father has been implicated in a serious crime, and new evidence directly links him to it. I’ve read him his rights and will take him to the station for questioning.”
“What? Are you arresting him?”
“Not at this time.”
Denny dropped onto the couch. He was taking this harder than me. “Is he a suspect?”
“Let’s just say that I need to ask him some tough questions.”
“Dad, I’m calling an attorney.”
“I don’t want any lawyer. I can clear this up myself.”
“It’s gone way beyond that.” Denny looked toward Lavino. “May I accompany him now?”
“No. But you and your lawyer ca
n speak with him at the police station.”
“You going to cuff me, Detective?”
“Not unless you put up resistance.”
“I don’t have any resistance left in me.”
I waved good-bye to my family as Lavino escorted me to his beautiful Crown Victoria parked at the curb. My next stop might have been death row.
“I’ll think of something,” Denny shouted to me.
“Either that or hire the cavalry to rescue me.”
After an all-expense-paid ride while sealed in a back seat that felt like a medieval torture chamber, we arrived at an institutional off-white building swarming with police, grumpy-looking people and various hangers-on from both sides of the law.
I twiddled my thumbs while Lavino filled out some paperwork. Then he led me to a small room.
“Please wait here for a few minutes,” he said and left the room. At least I hadn’t been thrown in a jail cell yet.
While I sat there, I looked around my new comfy surroundings. One other chair, a beat up desk and bare walls except for a picture of a large brown institutional building with no windows.
Before you could have said, “Olly olly oxen free,” Detective Lavino reappeared and sat down in the other chair facing me.
“What’s the picture on the wall?” I asked.
He smiled. “That’s the county jail. A reminder of where people go when they are arrested.”
I flinched. “Oh. I think I’ll just stay here.”
“We’ll see after you answer some questions,” Lavino said. “Before you were just a witness, but now there is evidence that directly links you to a bank robbery.”
“Give me a hint what you’re referring to.”
“Yesterday afternoon you spent a twenty-dollar bill at a shop on the Pearl Street Mall. The clerk remembered your name.”
I looked at him blankly.
“That bill had red identification marks on it indicating it came from the Boulder Central Bank that was robbed earlier this month.”
“So?”
“The same bank that was robbed when you were found by a police officer holding a bag of stolen money outside. I considered you only a witness at that time, but one of the bank employees, a Mr. Kraus, was certain that you caused a distraction during the robbery. He felt you might be working with the perpetrator. I had nothing specific enough to consider you a suspect at the time, but I do now.”
“I have no clue what you’re referring to.” I opened my wallet. “I don’t remember anything about a twenty-dollar bill yesterday.” I looked to see what might be in the folding money section. “I seem to have one in my wallet now.” I handed the bill to Lavino.
He stared at me. “This one has the red marks as well. We now have further evidence linking you to the bank robbery.”
“None of this makes any sense to me.”
“Where did you get this twenty-dollar bill, Mr. Jacobson?”
I scratched my head. “Good question. I don’t remember.”
He extracted another twenty-dollar bill in a plastic bag. “How about this one?”
I shrugged. “Same thing. No idea if that was even mine.”
“Why did you tell the clerk in the store on the mall that this twenty-dollar bills was, quote, ‘left over from a bank robbery’?”
“You got me. I must have been joking.”
“Pretty serious joke when the twenty-dollar bill came from the very bank robbery that you witnessed. I’m wondering if Mr. Kraus is right and you aided that robbery.”
“Not an old coot like me. I don’t go in for that type of thing.”
“Are you still claiming you don’t know the bank robber?”
“Since I don’t remember the event, I can’t say anything about the robber.”
“Is there any further statement you’d like to make, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Yeah. I’m ready to go back to my family now.”
He watched me carefully. “I’d like to ask you to have a photograph taken for our files.”
“I have no problem posing for you although I’m sure you could find some more attractive models. Don’t you want fingerprints as well?”
“No, Mr. Jacobson. We already have your fingerprints on file.”
I looked down at my sandals. “You can also have my toe prints, if it will help.”
I think I had convinced Lavino that I was more trouble than it was worth keeping in this tiny room. “Come with me.” He stood up and I followed.
Lavino led me down a hallway. I expected the lights to blink and dim as someone met their doom in an electric chair in a hidden chamber. But we marched onward, and I encountered no guard dogs frothing at the mouth, no hooded executioners, nor any rooms with racks and water torture devices. We simply arrived at another hallway where several men sat in chairs outside an office. An officer in uniform stood with his arms crossed overseeing the operation.
“Take a seat here, Mr. Jacobson, and it will be your turn shortly.”
I plunked my butt down on a chair next to the carcass of a big burly man with tanned arms covered in tattoos. He reminded me of a refugee from a weightlifting camp. “What ’dey bring you here for?” he asked in a whisper, leaning toward me.
“Bank robbery.”
“No kidding.” He raised his eyebrows.
“And you?”
“I beat up my ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend.”
I looked at him carefully. “Not a pleasant sight, I bet.”
He chuckled. “Mashed da guy up pretty good.”
I wouldn’t want to get on this guy’s bad side.
The policeman indicated the bruiser’s turn had come, so the brute lumbered into the adjoining room.
I looked to the other side of me, and a hairy face appeared inches from mine.
“Boo!” it said.
I nearly peed in my pants.
The face chuckled. “Gotcha good, old man.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Al.”
“You shouldn’t scare old guys, Al. Might lead to homicide being added to whatever you’re in here for.”
He laughed. “Nothing bad. Just drugs. I’m here to be processed.”
“You make it sound like you’ll end up in a tuna can.”
“Not dissimilar. You got a cigarette?”
“No. I don’t smoke.”
“Too bad. I could use one real bad.” He scratched the back of his neck that was covered by long dirty brown hair. “What brings you here?”
“I’m suspected of aiding a bank robbery.”
“If they lock you up, you’ll be able to get out until your trial. You can post bail.”
I squinted at him. “How do you know so much?”
“Easy. I’m a lawyer.”
“Couldn’t be much of one if you’re sitting here.”
“I don’t practice anymore. Drugs paid better. Until I got busted.”
At that moment Allison, accompanied by a police officer, came charging up the hallway and handed me a cup of water and three pills. “You’re supposed to take your medicine.”
I looked at the three gigantic capsules she’d given me. “Can’t I offer these to my friend here? He does drugs.”
Allison glared at me. “Don’t make a fuss. I had enough trouble getting in here. Just do what you’re told.”
I knew better than to argue, so I struggled to gulp down the three rocks. Once I knew they had arrived safely in my stomach and not my lungs, I handed the paper cup back to Allison.
“Who’s the chick?” my hirsute neighbor asked.
“She’s from Special Forces. Come to spring me.”
“Damn,” he said. “Maybe she can get me out too.”
“Don’t count on it,” I said.
“We’ll be waiting for you out in the lobby.” Allison gave me a furtive glance and disappeared from view accompanied by the police officer who had brought her in.
“Looks like she didn’t break you out,” Al said.
“No
t yet. She’s reconnoitering before bringing in the heavy artillery.”
The watchdog police officer indicated it was my turn, so I waved goodbye to Al and proceeded into the room to find a bored-looking woman sitting there. She was attractive in a no-makeup way but didn’t make eye contact.
“Please stand on that line.” She pointed to a strip of tape on the floor.
“So you want me to toe the line just like Detective Lavino does.”
She finally gazed up at me. “Yes.”
“Don’t you want to make sure I’m not armed?”
She finally exhibited a hint of a smile. “I don’t think we need to worry about that.”
“You never can tell. We old guys are pretty dangerous. Do you want a smile or a scowl?”
“Look natural.”
I considered striking a pose like a bodybuilder, then thought better of it. Police personnel weren’t noted for their sense of humor.
After a flash blinded me, I asked, “What’s the next stop on my guided tour?”
“Detective Lavino will take you up front.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I’ve always tried to be upfront with him.”
She groaned just as Detective Lavino reappeared.
“Are you harassing our personnel?” he asked.
“No. Just entertaining them.”
Lavino shook his head. “Mr. Jacobson, you have a very unique way of expressing yourself.”
“You stick with me, Detective, and you’ll have so much fun that you won’t ever consider chewing your nails again.”
I didn’t think I was winning Detective Lavino over, but he did lead me out to the lobby where I immediately spotted Denny, Allison and Jennifer.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” I said as Allison and Jennifer gave me hugs.
Jennifer immediately approached Detective Lavino and stood inches from him looking up into his face with her hands on her hips. “Why did you bring my grandfather here?”
He smiled down at her. “I had some questions to ask him concerning the bank robbery.”
She now raised her right hand and shook a finger at him. “He’s completely innocent. He had no motive for robbing a bank.”
