by Bill WENHAM
As the morning progressed so did their plan. Just before lunchtime it was finalized and they went over it all once more, looking for possible flaws in their collective reasoning. Then the three guys left to go over to Lisa’s for a meal.
Around one thirty, Almost, Carl and David came back into the office together. Jude was busy tidying up around the radio table and had her back to them. Carl called out a greeting to her as David and Almost went on into the interview room. Almost was carrying a blue sports bag and David dropped off a box of donuts as he passed Judy’s desk.
Carl pulled up a chair beside her desk as Judy turned around, came back to it and sat herself down behind it. Carl knew he was going to be in trouble as soon as he opened his mouth.
Jude looked at him questioningly. Carl usually just yelled at her from behind the safety of his own desk. It was unusual for him to come over and sit at hers.
He took a deep breath and said, “David’s going to be moving out of your place for a while, Jude. He’s going to bed down at my place, just until we catch this guy. It’s going to be way too dangerous for you if he stays with you.”
“Dangerous for me? Was I complaining, or something?” Judy snapped.
“No, you weren’t. But we’ve decided over lunch.” Carl said.
“Oh, we did, did we? And just where was I when we decided all this?” Judy said angrily.
“Come on, Jude. We have to make sure you’re kept safe. You know that.”
“So I’m being left out of it all then. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No, you’re not being left out of anything at all. As a matter of fact, we hope you’ll be an absolutely vital part of our plan.”
Jude pursed her lips.
“So, go on, tell me all about our plan” she said, “Since you’ve planned it all as well as decided it all without me.”
“Okay, then, here’s the plan so far, so you know all about it. As you know, we all think David is the prime target for this guy, hopefully his last target. We just have to make damned sure the guy doesn’t immediately recognize Dave the next time he sees him. Oh, just a minute, Jude,” Carl said as he got up. He went over and knocked on the interview door. The door opened and two uniformed deputies walked out into the main office. Both of them were in identical deputies uniforms, complete with hats, and both wore sunglasses.
Judy looked from one to the other of them.
“Who the hell is this?” she said.
“And you tell me about my manners. You could at least be a little polite, dammit. This is someone I’ve brought in to help us all with this thing,” Carl said, smothering a grin.
“Oh, well, sorry. Hi,” she said, “and welcome to Cooper’s Corn… God Lord, its David!”
“Right in one, Jude. With one of Almost’s old uniforms, a hat and a pair of shades, you can hardly tell ‘em apart, can you? Alvin Ryan has agreed to let young Tommy Burns work in his shop until this is over. But he needs to be only just visible, way back inside. He’ll dress in jeans and a denim shirt just like Dave does. We hope he’ll look enough like him to fool our man, at least from a distance.”
“Won’t that be putting Tommy at risk, though, Carl?” Judy asked dubiously.
“We don’t think so, Jude, if that guy gets out of his Jeep for a second, we’ll be all over him like a rash. He’ll be safe enough.”
“Anything else, in this plan of yours?” Judy asked, her annoyance evaporating a little bit by now. Now she was fully included, Judy’s ruffled feathers had been smoothed down nicely.
“We plan to recruit the help a good few of the guys in town, girls too, Jude,” Carl said.
“And what exactly will they all be doing?” Judy asked.
“Well, that’s where you come in, Jude. We expect you to be busier than a one armed paper hanger in this thing.”
“Oh, we do, do we?” Judy said, but smiling this time. “And what exactly do we expect me to be doing, Sheriff?”
“Running the CCC for us,” Carl said.
“The what?”
“Our Command Communications Center. We’ll ask all these people to act as kind of lookouts, all reporting in to you, Jude,” Carl told her. “Once we’ve located this guy, we don’t want to lose him again. So each lookout will report in to you, telling us where he is at any given moment. No one will be following him to give the game away either.”
“Game, Carl?” Jude said dryly.
“Christ, Jude, you know very well what I mean. Anyway, he’ll be under constant surveillance all over town. The whole town will be behind us on this, Jude, I guarantee it. I plan to talk to as many of them as I can tonight. I don’t think this bastard will expect the whole town to be on the lookout for him tomorrow, will he?” Carl said. “And he sure as hell won’t be expecting Dave there as a goddamned deputy, either,” he added.
Chapter Thirty One
Carl opened the door and went inside. A few of the people at the tables looked up and waved. Some of those who were closer to him called out, “Hi, Carl,” or “Hi, Sheriff,”
“Evening, Carl,” Bert Ritchie said, coming over to join him. “What brings you out here? Business or pleasure? Deal you in?”
Carl shook his head. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Bert,” he said, smiling.
“Right and I’m supposed to believe that, am I? You’re still as full of crap as ever, Sheriff,” Bert laughed. “Since you’re all done up in your monkey suit, I guess its business then, is it?”
Carl nodded.
“’Fraid so, my friend. As you know, we’ve got some really bad stuff going down around here these days.”
“So, that’s why you’re here then? Looking for some help, are you?”
Carl nodded again as he watched the players.
Friday night had been penny ante poker night in the Parrish Hall for as long as Carl could remember. On Friday nights, the ladies, and a few of the guys who couldn’t wriggle out of it and were dragged there by their spouses, played Bingo at the church. The other guys and some of the ladies who preferred poker’s better odds, played cards at the ‘The Hall’.
The Parrish Hall was one of the oldest buildings in Cooper’s Corners. It had been the main meeting place for the town and surrounding area for years. When Ephrem Cooper had built the feed mill for the area’s farms, the Parrish Hall had also been built as a focal point as the small village community that bore his name grew.
In those days, dances, political rallies and even Gospel meetings had been held there. Nowadays though, with other buildings as options, it was mainly used for wedding receptions, town meetings, Christmas parties, Harvest Festivals and of course, poker night.
“I guess you’ll want to be talking to everyone, then, Carl?” Bert said. “We’ll be taking ourselves a break in a few minutes. Wanna beer?’
Carl thought about that for a moment.
“Okay, Bert, thanks. Just as long as no one here reports me to the Sheriff for drinking on duty,” he said, smiling.
The old man cackled at Carl’s joke. He’d heard Carl say the same thing a hundred times before but he was still amused by it.
Bert was a spry and active ninety two year old and he was a crackerjack at poker. He would tell anyone that would listen, that he’d been playing poker when they were all still playing with wooden blocks in kindergarten. He was probably right too.
Carl snapped open the bottle of beer Bert handed to him as he looked around the room. In this room he could already see a least a couple of dozen people who would be glad to help him.
Unlike many policemen, Carl was elected to his job as Sheriff by these people and others in the surrounding communities. Over the years of serving them faithfully and honestly, he’d earned their trust and friendship.
If there was any way at all to avoid actually laying down the law, Carl would usually find it. Unless it was blatant, like Errol Cook’s drunkenness, and even then the law was adjusted by Carl to fit the individual. He wasn’t just a cop who filled in his time by handing
out citations for petty law infractions. He had no use for quotas either.
He and Almost were there to protect the community’s residents to the best of their ability and the townsfolk knew it. If Carl or Almost needed their help, everyone would want to be first in line to offer their assistance.
As old Bert got up on to the stage, the room gradually fell silent. They could guess what he was about to say.
“Sorry to interrupt your games, folks, but I just wanted to tell you Carl here wants a word or two with you all, come break time, okay?”
There were nods of agreement all round as they resumed their play. Finally, as each of the current hands came to a close, the players made their way over to the refreshment tables. When they were all back in their seats with a drink, a sandwich, a piece of cake or some cookies, Carl stepped up on to the stage.
“Good evening, folks,” he began. “As you all know, we’re currently having the worst spot of bother I believe Cooper’s Corners has ever seen. The worst in my memory anyway. The two recent murders, Forrest Appleyard and a young girl from Rutland, have both been killed right here in our community this week. As I’m sure you all know by now, Jack Finlay didn’t go anyplace with Dolly Cook either. No, folks, he stayed and got himself murdered right here in town too. As of now, we believe Dolly is dead also, although we can’t prove it at the moment. But if she’s dead, then it would have occurred over five years ago now,”
Carl paused for a moment to take a swig from his beer bottle.
“Right now though, and I’m sure you’ll all agree, we are mostly concerned about the recent killings, the murders of Forrest and the girl. Once these are attended to satisfactorily, we’ll investigate the older deaths.”
He paused again, gazing around the room and making sure he had everyone’s attention.
“We also know the killer has been seen again in Cooper’s Corners as recently as,” He paused again for a moment for effect and then added, “yesterday!”
There were gasps of disbelief from his audience as he said this.
“Has he killed someone else then, Sheriff?” someone called out.
“Not as far as we know,” Carl answered. “But we believe he’s certainly planning to.”
This comment generated a few more gasps from his audience.
“Who’s he after then?” another voice called, “Do you know who?”
Carl didn’t answer for a moment, and then said. “Let’s just put it this way. I know who he isn’t after rather than who he is. And I can tell you right now, he doesn’t have anyone in this room in his sights. That much I am certain of, okay?”
“How can we help, Sheriff?” a woman said.
“Ah, that’s what I was just coming to,” Carl said. “Thank you, Kitty, for reminding me. I just wanted to ask if any of you have noticed a stranger around town, driving a grayish brown Jeep, a new one. Jude says the color is taupe, ladies, if that helps.”
Carl took another swig of his beer as the assembled poker players talked amongst themselves. Then, at a back table, one of the male players spoke up. “You don’t mean the Triple A guy, do you, Carl?”
“Triple A?” Carl questioned.
“Yeah, you know AAA, the travel and road service people.”
“There’s a Triple A guy in town driving a Jeep like that, Russ, is that what you’re telling me?” Carl said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Sure,” Russ said, “I was talking to him. Not yesterday, though. The day before that, it was. He told me he was in town checking out stuff to update their New England Tour Book. Points of interest, good food places, accommodations, stuff like that.”
“Do you know where he’s staying?” Carl asked eagerly.
“No, Carl, ‘fraid not, but he did say he was looking for something in particular. Didn’t say what it was though, but he did ask about you guys.”
“We guys? Do you mean the Sheriff’s Department? What did he want to know about us?” Carl said in a puzzled voice.
“Where your office was, how many there were of you, that kind of thing,” Russ said.
The room had gone completely silent except for the exchange between Russ and Carl. For the moment both their refreshments and their poker games were completely forgotten. Carl suddenly realized he’d been both hasty and over confident in one of his previous comments.
There was someone in the room who could be a target! Russ Harris had seen and had actually spoken to the guy!
“Could you describe him for me then, Russ?’ Carl asked.
“Gee, Sheriff, I’m not much good at that stuff.” Russ replied.
“Try, Russ,” Carl said patiently.
“Well, let’s see now. He was tallish and youngish, I guess. Brown hair, I think. Didn’t see his eyes, ‘cos he was wearing shades.”
“Great going, Russ,” someone called out. “You just described half the young guys in town.”
“Okay, Glen, give him a break,” Carl said. “At least I know now I’m not looking for a little, old and bald midget, don’t I?”
“Sorry, Sheriff,” Russ mumbled.
“Thanks, Russ, and listen, guy, I’d like a word with you in private before I leave, alright?”
“Sure, Carl,” Russ said, a little uncertainly and feeling very embarrassed now.
“You reckon this Triple A guy to be the killer then, Sheriff,” someone called out.
“No, and let’s not get ourselves carried away here, but I’d sure bet a bundle he’s got nothing to do with the Triple A either. He’s just someone I’d very much like to talk to that’s all.”
“Hey, Sheriff, if you’re prepared to bet a bundle, come on down here and we’ll deal you in,” a woman at one of the nearest tables called out.
Carl smiled and then said. “One other thing. I’m trying to put a plan together to catch this killer, so how many of you can I count on if I need you?”
Every hand in the room went up, men and women; even though they had no idea what it was he wanted them to do. Even old Bert had his hand up.
Carl smiled again and nodded. “Thank you, all of you, I appreciate that. And, oh, yes, if any of you see this guy, and especially you Russ, since you’ve already spoken to him, call Judy, please, day or night. She’ll get in touch with me. And will all of you who want to help, please call in to Jude with your names, and thanks again, folks, enjoy your evening.” Then he paused, as they waited expectantly, and said, “I’m not really absolutely sure about this, but I do believe in any poker game where more than four aces turn up in any one hand, that would be considered to be a very serious contravention of the Vermont Gaming Regulations.” Carl watched the puzzled looks on some of the faces and grins on some of the others. “So, Florence - just put that extra one back in your handbag, there’s a good girl!”
A ripple of laughter went around the room and they all applauded as he left the stage, beckoning for Russ to join him. He had to warn Russ he was in possible danger without panicking the rest of them.
As he got back into his cruiser, Carl hoped he’d have the same kind of success with the Bingo players. If he was lucky he’d be able to catch them during their intermission as well.
Chapter Thirty Two
The trap Carl had set for the killer was an extremely simple one. More like an ambush than a trap really. The man driving the Jeep had taken no action on the previous day other than checking David was still in the store.
Carl figured he’d be back again on the following day, but this time with the stolen rifle. His ambush relied upon excellent and reliable communications as much as anything else. Plus some luck and, of course, perfect timing.
With his local volunteer lookout team posted all over town, the Jeep was soon spotted. Carl didn’t know and hadn’t been able to find out either, where the guy had stayed overnight. If he had, he may have tried to take him out there instead.
Even so, he had faith in his hunch the killer would return to town today. It was most probable he wasn’t even aware he’d been
spotted on the two days previously. He’d certainly not shown any awareness.
The lookouts steadily reported the Jeep’s location in to Judy, who relayed the information to Carl and Almost by radio. Consequently Carl, Almost and David were expecting the Jeep as it came slowly down the street towards the appliance store.
No sooner had it passed an alley between two stores, a large white van pulled out of the alley and straight out into the street. By coming straight out instead of turning, it had effectively blocked that end of the street. No sooner had the van pulled out, than Carl and Almost drove their patrol cars, one behind the other, out of another alley further down the street, just past the appliance store.
Their cruisers had been concealed in the alley with just the hood of Carl’s car being visible. At a signal from one of the ‘watchers’ across the street Carl immediately drove out of the alley.
Almost, with David in the passenger’s seat, followed close behind in the second cruiser. Between them they blocked off the other end of the street. There was now no way out for the Jeep, with the van behind and the two patrol cars in front of it.
The Jeep’s driver pulled to a stop, realizing too late that he’d just driven into a trap. Carl got out of his cruiser holding a bullhorn and he rested his arms on the roof of the car. David and Almost climbed out of the other cruiser, with David exiting on the passenger’s side.
The Jeep drove slowly forward again until it was no more than ten or twelve feet from the police cars, which were now broadside across the road. It stopped again.
“Get out of the car. Put both of your hands in the air where I can see them,” Carl called out on the bullhorn.
The driver didn’t respond, other than turning the Jeep’s engine off.
Carl called out again. “Leave your vehicle now. Put your hands in the air. This is your final warning.”
Very slowly, the driver’s side door of the Jeep opened. Carl could see the man was getting out, but because he’d driven so far forward to set the trap, his view of the man was partially blocked by the hood of the Jeep.
