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Mike Befeler Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series E-Book Box Set: Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder, Senior Moments Are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder

Page 45

by Mike Befeler


  “I didn’t have to. He released you. I was saving my contact for a time when you really needed it, so I used my trump card with Detective Lavino and he paid attention to me.”

  “The wonder of school programs.”

  “Detective Lavino agreed to investigate Previn and Matt Larson.”

  “May I speak to your mom or dad?”

  “No can do, Grandpa. A little while after you called earlier, they decided to go to a movie. I wouldn’t expect them back for a while.”

  “Crap.”

  “Grandpa, don’t be so upset.”

  I sighed. “You’re right. Say, while you’re on the line, give me Lavino’s number. I have an update for him.”

  She read the number to me, and I committed it to memory.

  Next I called Lavino. He wasn’t available so I left a message on his voicemail. Told him I’d be home in fifteen minutes and to call me.

  When we arrived home, I asked the cabbie to pull into the driveway. The lights shown on the front of the house. I handed the cab driver a twenty-dollar bill, thanked him and rushed to the door to let myself in. I put my key in the lock, opened the door as the light from the cab’s headlights disappeared and took two steps into the entryway when I felt a vice-like grip on my arm from behind.

  “About time you got here, Mr. Jacobson,” Previn said, his hot breath in my ear.

  I staggered forward with Previn clenching my arm.

  Max came running, wriggling with delight to see us both. Totally oblivious to the menacing hostility emanating from the stranger, he jumped up joyfully. Here I needed a Doberman to sic on Previn and, instead, I had a licking rag mop.

  Previn kicked at Max, who slunk away with a hurt look. “This is as good a spot as any,” he said. “I’ll do you, then find Larson.”

  “You spend an awful lot of time trying to murder people. Why don’t you just leave the country like you were planning?”

  “I killed Reynolds and Swathers each with a single blow, and I’ll do the same to you now.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jennifer sneaking up on Previn with a tennis racquet in her hand. I kept my reaction to myself.

  Previn raised his hand.

  Jennifer raised her racquet and delivered a ringing blow to the back of Previn’s head.

  He crumpled to the floor.

  I stood there stunned, looking at Previn’s blood seeping onto the entryway tile. Allison wasn’t going to be happy about this.

  “You should have called 9-1-1, Jennifer.”

  “I did when I saw Previn push you into the house. But the police wouldn’t arrive in time, so I had to do something.”

  Moments later I heard a siren. I opened the door as an athletic-looking police officer raced up the walkway.

  “We received an emergency call—an intruder. Then the phone cut off.”

  I pointed to Previn. “This man killed two other people and tried to kill me this evening.”

  “What happened to him?” the policeman asked.

  Jennifer strolled into the entryway still holding her tennis racquet. “Nobody gets away from my forehand. Nobody.”

  Chapter 20

  “You better cuff him good,” I said to the policeman as I pointed to the unconscious Previn. “Both my granddaughter and I heard him confess to killing two men with deadly martial arts blows, and he intended to do the same to me.”

  “I can handle him,” the swarthy cop replied as he placed handcuffs on Previn.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He still has his feet free. Be careful.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him, too,” Jennifer said, hefting her tennis racquet.

  I staggered into the kitchen to guzzle a glass of tap water and, when I returned to the entryway, heard moans emerge from Previn as his eyes fluttered open. The policeman bent over to examine him when suddenly Previn pivoted his body, whipped his legs in a lightning fast arc and knocked the legs out from under the policeman whose chin crashed into an end table in the entryway. The end table splintered into smithereens as the cop crumpled to the floor.

  Previn staggered to his feet, his bloodshot eyes focused on me. “You,” he said with a snort.

  I stumbled backward as he lurched toward me.

  Jennifer brought her tennis racquet swinging around and into Previn’s right kneecap.

  He yelped with pain and collapsed into a heap, holding his leg.

  For good measure she bashed him on the noggin again.

  She blew on her tennis racquet. “Nobody gets away from my backhand. Nobody.”

  “Find some duct tape,” I said to Jennifer.

  She ran off to the panty and returned with a pristine roll of gray tape.

  I removed the cellophane cover and wrapped tape around Previn’s legs.

  “That should secure him.” I stepped back to admire my work.

  “We need to wake him up,” Jennifer said, pointing to the policeman who lay unconscious in the remains of the shattered table.

  Max, who had apparently regained his courage, scampered into the entryway and began licking the policeman’s face.

  At this moment Denny and Allison returned home to find Jennifer with her tennis racquet over her shoulder, me with a roll of duct tape in my hand, Previn unconscious in a puddle of blood, and the policeman rising onto his elbow amid the pieces of the destroyed table.

  Allison shrieked.

  “Take it easy,” I said. “Jennifer and I have everything under control.”

  Denny shook his head. “Define control.”

  “Hey, Jennifer and I had some excitement this evening, but outside of a little mess, we have everything in check.”

  Allison still had her hand over her mouth with her eyes the size of saucers. “My . . . my entryway. Jennifer, are you okay?” She gave her daughter a hug.

  “It’ll all clean up neat and tidy,” I said. “I’ll even spring for a new table.”

  The policeman had now moved to a sitting position but wasn’t yet able to stand up. “I think my leg is broken,” he said with a groan.

  I shook my head. “I tried to warn you.”

  I heard footsteps, and a tall, skinny guy in a dark suit strolled into the entryway.

  “You here to repair the table?” I asked.

  “It’s Detective Lavino,” Jennifer said.

  Lavino scowled. “What happened?”

  “My granddaughter and I collared Gary Previn.” I pointed to the cuffed and well-duct-taped limp form on the floor. “He murdered Daniel Reynolds and Randall Swathers and attempted to do the same to me.”

  Lavino leaned over to examine Previn.

  “Be very careful with him, Detective. He’s an expert in martial arts and already hurt your policeman.”

  Lavino stepped back.

  Previn’s body twitched, and his eyes opened. He turned his head from side to side. He couldn’t move anything else. “I’ve been attacked,” he mumbled. “I demand justice. Call my lawyer.”

  Jennifer stepped forward and shook her fist at Previn. “You’re an intruder. Under the Colorado ‘make my day’ law we can use necessary force to protect ourselves.”

  “Spoken like a true lawyer,” I said.

  Lavino made a call on his cell phone while Denny and Allison helped the policeman to his feet.

  I picked up a three-foot long chunk of wood from the broken table and handed it to the limping cop. “Here, use this for a cane until help arrives.”

  Jennifer hovered over Previn, waving her tennis racquet as if daring him to give her cause to deliver another blow.

  Shortly, a crowd of people arrived. Two paramedics brought a stretcher for the injured police officer, and two burly cops carted Previn away.

  Lavino regarded me with a serious expression on his face. “Now, Mr. Jacobson, I need to take a statement from your granddaughter and you. Separately.”

  “Why don’t you interview her first so she can get to bed?”

  “Oh, Grandpa. I want to stay up to see everything.”
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br />   Several crime scene investigators arrived, and Lavino moved us all out of the entryway so they could take pictures and do their magic.

  “I need a place to speak with Jennifer,” Lavino said.

  “You can go in the dining room,” Allison said and pointed.

  Lavino and Jennifer headed there, and Denny, Allison and I plopped down on the living room couch. I could see Lavino and Jennifer but not hear their conversation.

  “You certainly bring a new element of excitement into our quiet home, Dad,” Denny said.

  “Only doing what I can to contribute to Jennifer’s legal education.”

  “I’m so nervous. I need to do something with my hands,” Allison said. She reached for a pencil and a puzzle book.

  “Hey, I thought you swore off those Sudoku puzzles,” Denny said.

  “I’m only going to do one.”

  I patted Denny on the thigh. “Cheer up. It’s better than smoking.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “They’re pretty addictive.”

  I lifted myself up and ambled into the bathroom to wash my face. In my pocket I discovered some balloons and Matt Larson’s crumpled business card. I sneaked up to Jennifer’s room and inflated the balloons. With some masking tape I stuck them to the mirror over her dresser.

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later Allison was still working Sudoku puzzles, and Lavino and Jennifer entered the living room.

  “Your turn, Mr. Jacobson,” Lavino said.

  “We can use my room this time,” I said and led him to my suite.

  I parked my fanny in one chair, and Lavino scraped another one up so that he faced me.

  “Why don’t you tell me the whole story of your escapades tonight, Mr. Jacobson?”

  “I went to the Colorado Mountain Retirement Properties promotional shindig at the Millennium Harvest House and saw Gary Previn in action. He had this routine with a stunt double. I took the opportunity to interview the look-alike, a man named Matt Larson.” I gave Lavino the somewhat-worse-for-wear business card.

  “I noticed that Larson had a tattoo of a surfboard on his wrist. When I interviewed the checkout clerk at the Boulder Public Library, she remembered the guy she thought was Previn checking out a book on the day Swathers was murdered. She said he had a surfboard tattooed on his wrist.”

  “The things you come up with, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “If you contact the library again, you’ll hear the same story. Unfortunately, the clerk didn’t report this to the police at first. She only recalled it later when I spoke with her.”

  “Go on.”

  “So after I determined that Previn hadn’t been at the library that afternoon, but Larson had, I clued Larson in on Previn. I really don’t think he knew. Larson planned to meet Previn later, but I warned him not to. Then I confronted Previn and accused him of killing Swathers in the Community Center parking lot.”

  “Pretty risky thing to do, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “Hey, I’m an old fart who won’t be around much longer anyway. But I needed to clear my name.”

  “And then?”

  “Previn rigged the raffle drawing so I’d be the one to win the Alaskan cruise. When I went on stage to receive my prize, he dragged me off to a back room. We had a conversation where he admitted committing the two murders and told me he planned to do in Larson and then skip the country. He relieved me of the cruise tickets and planned to kill me, but I escaped his attempt to do me bodily harm.”

  “Please, Mr. Jacobson, stick to the facts without the embellishment.”

  “Then I caught a cab home.”

  “I was pretty skeptical when your granddaughter called about this stunt-double gimmick, and your message sounded strange too.”

  “I don’t blame you, Detective. This whole thing seems so crazy even now. Did you try to call Matt Larson?”

  “I did, several times. No answer, not even a machine. He must’ve run scared after talking to you. But I’m still amazed you confronted Previn on your own. You knew he was a confirmed killer.”

  “I thought I could somehow expose him and prevent another murder.”

  “At the expense of him almost killing you?”

  “As I said, I’m half-way dead anyway.”

  Lavino regarded me and a smile crept across his face. “You have more life in you than a dozen thirty-somethings.”

  “Anyway, when I returned home, Previn grabbed my arm and pushed me into the house. He was furious and itching to kill me. In the entryway he admitted his murders once again. Jennifer overheard this so she can corroborate it.”

  “Yes. She already has.”

  “Good. So you have two witnesses to his admission of guilt. Previn was going to kill me when Jennifer walloped him over the head with her tennis racquet.”

  Lavino sighed loudly. “You and your granddaughter make quite a pair.”

  “Yup. She’s a chip off the old block. Then Previn assaulted your police officer, and Jennifer bashed him again. We bound his feet, and then you arrived.”

  “A very busy evening for you, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “Yes. I’m ready for a little shut-eye. I’d appreciate it if you could clear my good name so I can leave the state in the near future. I’m engaged to be married.”

  Lavino’s mouth fell open.

  “That’s my fiancée Marion’s picture on my dresser.”

  Lavino turned and regarded the picture.

  “Well, you don’t expect me to go without female companionship, do you, Detective?”

  “Tell you what, Mr. Jacobson. You and I can have a long chat tomorrow to deal with all the various crimes you’ve witnessed or been involved with. I agree that you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

  “As long as we get everything wrapped up, I guess I can wait one more day.”

  We returned to the living room.

  “Is everyone done in the entryway so I can clean up?” Allison asked.

  “I’ll check,” Lavino said. When he returned, he informed us that the investigators were nearly finished.

  Within fifteen minutes we had the whole place to ourselves again.

  I wandered into the living room. Max was sacked out.

  “That was so cool tonight,” Jennifer said.

  “Time for bed,” Denny said.

  “Aw, Dad. I’m still too hyped up. I’ll never fall asleep.”

  “You need your rest,” Denny replied. “You have your club tennis tournament coming up next week.”

  “And I got in some practice tonight.” Jennifer picked up her tennis racquet, gave it a vicious swing and skipped up the stairs.

  “She may have all that energy left, but I’m pooped,” I said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m dead tired.”

  “Not a good choice of words, Dad,” Denny said.

  Chapter 21

  I waved good night to Denny and Allison and headed to my room. In spite of feeling utterly exhausted, I sat down to chronicle the events of the day. What a life I led. But no matter how dramatic, I knew my sex-induced memories wouldn’t be with me by the next day.

  I had just started when someone knocked on my door.

  “Come in.”

  Jennifer pranced in.

  “I thought you were supposed to be in bed,” I said.

  “I went to my room and found balloons on my mirror. I bet you put them there, Grandpa.”

  “How could you tell?”

  “It was either you or Detective Lavino, and he doesn’t seem like the type.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Thanks.” She gave me a hug and scampered out the door.

  * * * * *

  The next morning I woke up tired and wondering where the hell I was. I spotted the note atop a journal on my nightstand. It read: “You’re lucky to be alive, you old goat. Read this before you do anything stupid.”

  After reliving the adventures of Paul Jacobson of the Geezer Enforcement Squad, I sat on my bed and contemplated my strange existence. I used to be t
his mild-mannered guy who minded his own business. Now I was nabbing crooks and getting married. And it seemed to all be happening to someone else.

  At breakfast Jennifer bounced up and down in her chair. “We nailed him, Grandpa. That was the coolest thing.”

  “If you say so. I’m still trying to adjust to you being twelve and no longer six years old.”

  “That’s why you have your journal and me to remind you, Grandpa.”

  “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

  I was preparing for a day of trying to figure out what to do next when the doorbell rang.

  Max danced underfoot as Jennifer opened the door to a tall, skinny guy in an undertaker’s suit.

  “Hello, Detective Lavino,” she said.

  “I’m here to see your grandfather,” Lavino said.

  “Come on in,” I shouted. “You here to harass me some more?”

  “No, Mr. Jacobson. I’m here to settle a number of questions.”

  “Then have a seat.” I patted the couch cushion next to me. “And do tell me to what I owe the pleasure of your company, Detective?”

  “Mr. Jacobson, you and I have had numerous chats.”

  “Yes. I’ve been one of your favorite suspects.”

  “After last night, that’s all changed.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Gary Previn is safely behind bars for the murders of David Reynolds and Randall Swathers and the assault on a police officer, the attempted murder of one Mr. Paul Jacobson and the theft of four point six million dollars from Colorado Mountain Retirement Properties. We recovered all the money including one un-cashed check for two hundred thousand dollars.”

  I whistled. “That’s a lot of moolah. You should be able to add fraud for what that sleazy outfit represented.”

  “Actually, with the return of the money Previn stole, the company has done nothing illegal. You’ll be interested to know that they did receive zoning approval and will be breaking ground for construction within two weeks.”

  “You mean the operation is legit?”

  “Apparently. But a number of agencies in the state will be watching them very carefully.”

  “Amazing.”

  “In fact, Peter Kingston, the president, asked to speak with you. I will pass on your contact information with your permission.”

 

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