I didn’t much care about the rest of the show and my A.D.D. was already kicking in in full force. My mind began to wander as I searched around the room for anything more entertaining. No dice. Some teachers were on stage setting up the microphone stands for the next performance. I chuckled to myself.
“Dude, Elise, I almost broke those stupid microphones earlier.”
“What? How?”
“We were-” And that was it. My mind clicked and my eyes began to tunnel. I couldn’t even keep focus. I vaguely heard Elise saying my name and someone, probably Eric, pulling on my shirt sleeve, but I had no choice but to ignore it. I’m pretty sure the lights went down again and the show started back up and I heard the noise in the room grow louder. I paid no attention to it, though. I was working on something.
When I finally came to, Elise and the kids were standing by my side. The show was over, the parents had gone. We we’re alone in the auditorium. I was still sitting.
“Archie! God, we were about to call an ambulance for you,” Elise said, as I finally began clearing my head. “God, I’ve only seen you get like that twice before in your life. Is everything okay? I had to explain to the staff here what was wrong with you and talk them in to letting us stay for a bit. They’re not happy, Archie. We have to leave. Come on.”
Still I sat.
“Come on, Uncle Archie, we’re hungry,” one of the kids said, though I’m not exactly sure which one. My head was still a bit fuzzy. I closed my eyes tightly to try and clear the fog then finally stood up. “We have to go back to Vegas.”
22.
We made a deal with Jamie and the kids; We would be gone for no more than three days, back in plenty of time for final shopping, Christmas eve and Christmas day. Then, after Christmas, I would be springing for a trip to Disneyland. The kids were an easily sell. I assured Jamie that her and Calen would be coming, too, and her husband, Whatshisname, was more than welcome to attend to if he could get the time off. Jamie hesitated, saying it wasn’t a big deal and that I didn’t need to do that. I insisted and she finally agreed. That same morning Elise and I were back on the road to Las Vegas.
Elise wasn’t very thrilled with me that I was refusing to discuss my epiphany until we were back at the hotel. But I had to work this entire thing out in my brain, and besides that, there were still a few things I needed to double check before I could finally be one-hundred-percent positive my theory was correct.
It was a long drive.
I tried to lighten to mood with my normal rants and raves and ramblin’s but nothing seemed to work very well.
“Okay fine,” I say to Elise, finally giving in a little bit to her silent treatment. “I know who the rapist is.”
“Well I figured that, but who?! Who?!”
I pulled over to the side of the road. We were in the middle of the desert. The wind was blowing a dirt tornado off in the distance as I told Elise.
***
We got to the hotel an hour and a half later and walked straight to the security office, stopping only to check in again with the secretary out front.
“I thought you guys left.” she said.
“We did,” Elise answered “We had a previous engagement back home that we had to attend. But we’re back down and we’re not leaving until we finish everything this time.”
“Fuckin’ A,” I added, for some unknown, stupid reason. I regretted saying it before it was fully even out of my mouth. Oh well.
She let us into the surveillance room and told us Mr. Mulroney was out on the floor but she would let him know we were here. We thanked her and she closed the door behind her.
The screens were all reset and showing the real-time actions of all the people on the casino floor and other areas of the hotel. We had saved all our videos and knew exactly how to retrieve them. I had it up and running within five minutes. I stood up and tapped the glass of the monitor. “There he is, E. There he is.”
“Now we just have to figure out who he is and where to find him.”
“We’ll get him. I promise you.” I returned my attention to the monitor. The video was paused. On the screen was our victim and standing right next to her on the elevator was a large man in a flannel shirt. I leaned in closely and got a good look at him. “We got ya, Fatboy.”
I resumed play and watched as the elevator doors closed. Fifteen and a half minutes later, according to the video, that same man exited the elevator, this time rolling a suitcase behind him. A suitcase that I was convinced Leslie was shoved in.
I heard the door open and we both turned to look.
“Mulroney. Just the man we wanted to see,” I said
“I thought you guys left,” Mulroney said.
Elise took over. “We did. But we’re back. We’ve got it.”
“Oh, do share,” he said as he walked over to the monitors. “I hope you’re right because I have a meeting today with hotel management, security and our insurance adjusters. Something I am not looking forward to. I would love to bring them good news.”
“Well,” I said, “here’s what we’ve got. You see this guy right here?” I tapped the monitor again. It was paused on our suspect exiting the elevator with, hopefully, Leslie in his bag.
“This guy?” he asked. “How do you know?”
“I know because no one else could have done it. We’ve accounted for every single goddamn person that came in to this hotel and used that elevator. No one used the stairs; no one used an emergency exit. It’s him. I know it is. Watch.”
I rewound the video and started with Leslie stepping on the elevator. I narrated for our guest.
“Okay, here is the last time we see Leslie. And here is our suspect.” I paused the video. “We followed this guy backwards and all he was doing for most of the evening was wandering around the casino. He would occasionally sit at a table or a slot machine, but for never more than five to ten minutes. He also stops at two bars and has a couple of drinks. He had several chances to see our vic throughout the night. At one point they even came within five feet or so of each other. He never gives her a second look though which leads me to believe he knew what he was doing. Our vic makes her way from the bar to the elevator. The suspect must see her get up and begin to follow her. The vic gets on the elevator alone, the doors start to close, and here comes our suspect. The vic holds the doors for him, he steps on and says something to her. The vic is seen smiling as the door closed.” I resume the video and watch as the doors shield us from her.
“Okay guys,” Mulroney said, “I’m going to need more than this, here.”
“Oh there is more,” Elise replied.
“Much more,” I added, rather over-dramatically. I fast forwarded to 7:25am on the video and the doors open again. This time our suspect steps off. “Here he is. You see his suitcase?”
“Yes.”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure our victim is shoved in there.”
“I’ve seen this video a hundred times. How do you know? Look at the size of that suitcase. She’s not in there. There’s no way.”
“There’s more.”
“Besides,” he continued, “this fatfuck just walks out of the elevator and straight to a slot machine. This is not something I would be doing if I had a woman stuffed in my suitcase.”
“I agree,” I said. “We thought the same thing, too. That’s why we were so quick to dismiss him. I probably still wouldn’t have given him another thought had something not happened back home. Here, watch.” The video continued to play. Our suspect sat at a slot machine for a few minutes then stood up again to leave. “You watching?”
“I’m watching.”
“Here he goes heading for the exit.”
“Okay…”
“Here it comes.” On the screen, our suspect’s suitcase tips over as he is exiting the building. “Kaboom!” I yell. I paused the video just as the doorman is bending over to pick up the case.
“Kaboom?” Mulroney asks, rather confused. “Kaboom what? What happened?”
/>
I tap the screen again. “Here. Right here. You see this?”
Mulroney leaned in, squinting. “What? What am I looking at?”
I run my finger in a horizontal line across the bottom of the screen, tracing the lines of the automatic door’s runner. “This.”
“The door tracks?”
“Correctimundo! The door tracks. Look. Every other asshole with a suitcase on wheels walks right out the door with no problems whatsoever. Except this guy. Except this asshole right here.”
Mulroney still looked puzzled. I turned towards Elise and watched her smile grow wide. She was convinced. I pressed on.
“I was setting up the stage for my little nephews Christmas program yesterday. They had the entire bunch of set pieces on these flat little four-wheeled dollies. It was my job to wheel the dollies out and set up the stage. Right behind the back curtain was a runner, just like the one for the doors here, but these were used to roll the backdrops back and forth. I wheeled all the dollies over that little groove with no problems at all. Except one. The last one.” For some reason I put one finger in the air. I leaned in closer to Mulroney. “The last dolly was piled high with stereo equipment. Two large, heavy speakers, some smaller speakers, a box with microphones and wires and things and some microphone stands. It was heavy to even push. We hit that runner and the front wheels caught and down goes Frasier. The boxes and several stands came crashing down. It was the weight.” I sat back in my chair and let the smile take over my face. “The sheer weight of that stereo equipment caused the wheel to catch. All the lighter ones went right over it, just like how all the other suitcases glided right over this one. What made this guy’s suitcase so heavy that the wheels wouldn’t be able to glide over it?”
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right,” Elise said.
“Look,” Mulroney went on, “we have to be sure. I still don’t even think a woman can fit in that bag. We need to find out for sure.”
“I know how we can find out,” Elise said as she stood up and removed her phone from her purse. “Archie, rewind the video to right when this fat bastard takes his first step off the elevator.”
I did as I was instructed and Elise held her phone to the screen, snapping a picture.
23.
Elise’s idea was a pretty good one. The three of us were currently standing in the open elevator, the doors being wedged open.
“This guy was a giant,” Elise says. “Regular size things would appear much smaller than they probably are. Archie, get your tape measure out.”
I opened up the flap on my messenger bag and retrieved the tape measure. I tried to hand it to Elise but she told me to hold on to it for a minute. “Actually, Archie, I need you to stand right in the doorway here.” I positioned myself in the center of elevator. “Okay look,” Elise pulled up the picture she just took with her phone. The picture showed our suspect standing right where I was, pulling his suitcase that we believed contained our vic. “Now, what we need to figure out, once and for all, is if this bag he is pulling is big enough to stuff a 5‘3’ woman into. In order to do that, we need to figure out the dimensions of that bag.”
“How is that possible?” Mulroney asked.
“I think I know,” I answered. I knew where Elise was going with this and I was quite proud. I tossed the measuring tape up in the air and caught it. I did this a few more times as Elise continued with her plan.
“Look at the tiles here,” she said as she pointed to the floor of the elevator. We both looked. “All we have to do it figure out how many tiles our suspect filled up and how many tiles the suitcase took up, then do the math and figure out their exact sizes.”
I had begun using my tape measure as a yo-yo, holding the tip and throwing the base down, unwinding, then snapping it back up. It’s that whole A.D.D. thing again.
“Can we do that?” Mulroney asked. “I mean, is it possible?”
“Of course it is,” Elise answered. “This guy right here can do anything.” She gave me a nod, followed by a wink when Mulroney wasn’t looking. I smiled back at her.
“Good job, Elise.”
“Thanks, Arch.”
I snapped the tape back up and measured a tile. Each one was eight inches by eight inches and with the door open there are nine tiles in the opening, for a total of six feet. I looked at the picture and saw that our suspect’s body took up five full tiles. Starting from the very end of the door on my right-hand side, the first tile was left empty; the space above it was filled with his right arm. On the second and third tile was the man’s right foot. The fourth tile had the man’s left heel on it, with the fifth tile housing the rest of the foot.
I looked at the picture again and estimated where the top of his head was to the top of the door. I measured and put his height at about 6”4”. I dug into my bag and removed a pencil and marked on the tiles the location of his feet.
“Mulroney,” I said, “I need you to stand right here.”
He walked over and entered the elevator next to me. “Okay.”
“Great. I need you to put your feet on these marks here. You will be our suspect.” Mulroney hit his marks and I backed up to take a good look at him. I held the phone up comparing the pictures to the reality. Elise leaned over to take a look for herself.
“This guy is a giant,” she said. “What’s the wrestler guy’s name? The one from Princess Bride?”
Ha! “You mean Andre the Giant?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Where has he been lately?”
“Um, rotting in a grave for like, the past twenty years.”
“Oh. Damn. I guess we can rule him out, then.”
“Brilliant deduction. Moving on.”
“Agreed. At least this explains why the suitcase looks so small. The guy is a gorilla.”
“How many tiles does it look like the suitcase is taking up?”
“I can’t really tell,” she said, leaning in closer to get a better look at the picture. “Look, that one wheel is dead center on that tile.”
We walked back into the elevator and stood behind Mulroney. We located the tiled that the wheel was on when the suspect began walking out. We lined up everything as well as we could, marked the tiles, and then measured. Our final estimate (or GUESSTIMATE if you’re a douche) was that the bag was a little more than two feet wide and about three feet tall.
“I never would have guessed it was that big,” I said. The eyes can play tricks on you.
“Now we just have to find out if someone can fit in a bag that size,” Elise added.
“Mulroney,” I said, “is there a store in here that sells luggage?”
“Of course. There are several high end shops in our mall area.”
“Great,” I said. “Can you take us to one. We need a bag this size. Elise…?”
“Yep?”
“I think you’re going to have to be our victim. How limber are you?”
“What? I can’t fit in that bag!”
“You’re going to have to try. You’re the only one who is close to our vic’s height.”
“I’m like three inches taller than her, it won’t be exact.”
“Yeah, but if you can fit then we’ll know that Leslie could fit.”
“Come on, I don’t want to do this. We can find someone else. One of these stupid, giggly drunk bitches will probably do it if you buy them another beer.”
“Actually, you just gave me an idea. I know who is a little shorter than you and probably will work for a beer.”
“Oh lord.”
“Yep. I’m going to call up Gena the Whore.”
Elise palm-smacked her forehead while I pulled out my phone and began scroll through my call log. I hit dial then looked up at Elise again, “She’s probably more flexible than you, too.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s used her ears as foot rests before. She should work.”
Gena picked up on the fourth ring. “Archie baby?”
“Um. Yeah. Hi. It’s me. My n
umber is saved in your phone?”
“Of course baby, you’re the most interesting john I’ve had in a long time.”
My face went flush. “I…I’m…I was…I’mma never. I was never a…a…john.”
Elise snorted with laughter, so loud she had to turn around and walk away. I’d be taking shit for this one for months. I can see it now.
“Well, whatever, baby, not yet I guess,” Gena responded.
“Hey, uh, yeahhhh, anyway. Um, we have a favor to ask of you. Where are you right now?”
“Me? Oh yeah, just hanging out. I thought you went home.”
“We did, but we’re back. If you’re available, could you come back to the Myra? We have a favor to ask.”
“Oh sugar, I do enjoy favors. I’m across the street. Give me fifteen minutes, darling.”
“Oh. Oh great. Okay. Meet us at the front desk. Fifteen minutes.”
“Okay baby. See you then.”
“Um. Yeah. Okay, see ya then.” I ended the call on my phone and put it back in my pocket. Three seconds hadn’t even passed since I disconnected when Elise punched me in the arm and keeled over laughing at me. Lousy broad.
“You are quite the ladies’ man, Archie Lemons. Quite the ladies’ man, indeed.” More laughter. All I could do was shake my head. Ugh.
The man’s inaugural victim was a young redhead woman whose tresses smelled of cigarette smoke. He had spotted her at the hotel’s pool and kept a close watch on her, studying her daily routine and making certain she was alone. It was his first time and he was overly cautious and paranoid. For years he had attempted to combat his indocile and irrepressible impulses but could no longer contain the beast that lay within.
He had diligently surveyed the hotel’s layout. He had to map an escape route once he abducted his victim. He assumed he would have to abstain from elevators since they often had cameras. It would be best to stick to stairwells, even though toting the bag containing her would be a bit of a hassle while descending the steps.
Midnight was approaching. The woman had the custom of staying up late, sitting outside by herself and having a drink and a few cigarettes. The man never saw her with anyone. He assumed she was put up here on business. That would be the best scenario for him. He walked out on the terrace, dragging his empty suitcase behind him and looked down upon the redheaded woman smoking. When the woman snuffed out her cigarette and stood up, the man made his way down to the woman’s floor. He had just stepped off the stairs as the woman was exiting the elevator. He knew which room was hers so he had to pace himself just right. The woman arrived at her room while the man was ten feet away. She opened her door and stepped inside. While the door was shutting, the man sprinted and wedged his foot in the jamb just in time. He barged his way into the woman’s room and quickly muffled her screams with his massive hands. He punched her in the mouth and nose until she fell unconscious to the floor. He then scooped up her petite, limp body and stuffed it into the suitcase.
Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius Page 11
