by Simon Okill
The sheriff blew out her cheeks and heaved a sigh. She was less than eager to enter the crime scene as she'd seen it all before. She glanced at Deputy Dwight and could tell his gut was churning just like hers.
It occurred to Lou that maybe this was the work of the copycat. So far, the local radio had been told to play it down, and so there had been no mention of a copycat. The mayor wanted the entire Phantom Bigfoot Bather Case to be kept as quiet as possible. But it was still the summer season. Hordes of tourists were descending on their idyllic little town and so word had started to spread. Big Beaver would probably make national headlines and become the laughing stock of the nation. Lou didn't want that to happen to her town.
"Come on, chubby, move it," Lou ordered, as she opened the door of her patrol car and got out. She took in a massive, deep breath of fresh, pine-scented air, as if it would be her last.
Dwight lingered for a moment inside the confines of the sheriff's patrol car. He took a deep breath of the scented magnolia stick that hung from the rear view mirror. He savored the pleasing fragrance for a moment then slowly got out.
As they approached the house they saw the comfy outdoor floral-patterned chairs dotted about the porch. Hanging plants dangled from the veranda's overhang. The bright yellow front door was wide open.
Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight heard a dog barking and children playing in a nearby neighbor's garden.
Lou reached the front porch first and muttered to herself, "No fainting, Lou. You're the sheriff . . . got that?"
Just as she was about to place her foot onto the front porch, Deputy Bill burst forth from the open door and jumped down the steps into the front lawn, almost knocking Lou and Dwight off the veranda. He had a hand to his mouth as if about to puke.
Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight turned round to watch in horror as the deputy bent over. Thankfully nothing came up.
Lou swallowed down the need to throw up herself, thinking this is going to be bad.
Dwight patted his rounded stomach and muttered, "I've gotta real bad feeling about this one, Lou."
"Oh yeah," Lou agreed with a grimace.
"Don't go in there. It's the worst one yet," Deputy Bill groaned, gasping for fresh air.
Lou turned away from Bill, and entered the house with Deputy Dwight.
ONCE IN THE HALLWAY, Lou and Dwight heard Deputy Will and the ME's muted voices coming from somewhere upstairs. Throughout the lower part of the house there was the sweet fragrance of Lily of the Valley air freshener mixed with that familiar pungent odor. Lou saw two large sets of muddy Bigfoot prints making their way from the rear kitchen to the stairs.
She gave the neat hallway a cursory glance as she walked towards the stairs with Deputy Dwight in tow.
They paused outside the open living room door. There, seated in a rocking chair, was Ms Mamie Funderburk, quietly watching TV with the sound muted. She was a petite, white-haired, eighty-five-year-old woman. She was quite deaf and more than a little absent-minded.
Ms Mamie's housekeeper had reported the crime before breakfast that day. She had told Lou not to upset Ms Mamie, as she was totally oblivious to anything untoward going on in her home. Apparently the old girl slept downstairs these days due to arthritis that prevented her from climbing the stairs, and as such, had not witnessed the crime.
AT THE TOP of the stairs, Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight noticed the plethora of small gilt framed photographs of the bygone years of Ms Mamie and various family members and friends.
They could still hear Deputy Will and the ME talking. Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight exchanged anxious glances as they walked down the hallway towards the crime scene, following the muddy footprints.
Lou's nostrils twitched. She could now smell the faint hint of bleach and that all too familiar, pungent stench, that would cling to her senses for days afterwards.
Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight took in deep breaths. Slowly, with stomach-churning dread, they tentatively walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.
They reached the open door to the crime scene and peered into the bathroom to see Deputy Will photographing the ME, as he drew a plastic sheet over the bowl. Both had pegs on their noses.
Sheriff Lou and Deputy Dwight could clearly see muddy Bigfoot prints completely covering the linoleum floor. Lou correctly concluded that one perp had used the toilet. The air was now so overpowering that Lou felt dizzy.
Deputy Will and the ME were too involved with the crime scene to notice that the sheriff and Dwight had come in to the small bathroom and were standing quietly behind them.
Lou coughed as the stink burrowed into her brain.
"Smells about the same to me," Lou declared, announcing her presence with a wrinkled nose.
Both Will and Herb jumped almost out of their skins, turning round to look at the sheriff and Dwight who stood a few feet behind them, revealing the toilet bowl with a plastic sheet over it.
From Deputy Will's puce-green pallor and the ME's whiter than normal features, Lou didn't need to know what she was about to see was going to make her feel pretty bad too.
Lou walked over to the toilet with leaden feet while Dwight stood fixed to the spot trying not to breath in the disgusting stench that invaded his nostrils. Lou removed the sheet to see two partially eaten chocolate éclairs floating in the pan.
It had to be Duane, she thought, and he was escalating to a different confection. Not that there weren't other suspects in town, but Duane was the number one. And Duane was smart, which meant the Phantom Bigfoot was smart, for he knew to put plenty of bleach down the toilet bowl and in the bathing facilities.
Lou checked the bath and saw the drain clogged with matted fur, as yet unidentified, although close to being human hair. So the hair could not be Duane's.
"You just going to stand there like a lost turd, Dwight?" Herb remarked somewhat peevishly. "Do you think it's the work of the copycat?" Herb asked Lou.
"Perhaps?" Lou replied, who was now unable to tear her eyes away from the clumps of fur stuck to the sides of the bath and tiles. She dared to sniff the hair and thought the smell was very similar to Duane's Bigfoot suit.
"I've seen enough. Time for the extraction!" Lou pushed Dwight aside and breathed in fresh air at the window.
Dwight fell backwards into the bath, floundering like a beached whale.
From her vantage point, Lou had a clear view of the garden below and of the small group of eager Beaverites now gathered on the lawn.
Deputy Bill was there, telling them, "The Phantom Bigfoot has struck again."
In response to the deputy's declaration, everyone cheered loud and clear for all to hear.
Typical, Lou thought.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Walt Flucker and son arrived at the crime scene. Having received an urgent call from Noreen to get ASAP to Mamie Funderburk's house, Walt wasted no time, and with sirens blazing on his "Dumpster" mobile, as he affectionately called it, arrived ASAP at the crime scene.
THE BRAVE SHERIFF WATCHED the Fluckers standing over the toilet bowl staring at the éclairs. Father and son were dressed in their professional-looking, dark brown jumpsuits with "No dump is too big for a Flucker" emblazoned on their backs in luminous lime green.
It suddenly occurred to Lou that the Fluckers might very well be the copycat Phantom Bigfoot. It wouldn't surprise her if they were, but for now she needed to concentrate on this crime scene.
The Fluckers' faces remained their usual ruddiness. But strangely enough neither held their hands over their mouths to cover up the foul stench. They were professional sewage extraction experts, a job not to be taken lightly.
Walt took in a big breath. "Ah, ambrosia to my nostrils." He started to giggle. "Damn . . . that éclair looks real tasty."
Lou looked with revulsion at Walt.
"Which one?" Beau chuckled, taking a snapshot of the offending items with his cell phone. "That one's mine!" Beau reached for one éclair.
Lou slapped Beau's hand and looked disapproving
ly at father and son. "This isn't a laughing matter . . . just get on with the extraction." She turned to Herb, "Bag all the hair in the bath and make castings of the prints in the back garden."
Lou gave Dwight an urgent look for him to do something, indicating Beau's cell phone.
Dwight, still wiping Bigfoot hair from his uniform with his hand, took his cue and made a dash towards Beau in an attempt to grab hold of the cell phone before he decided to mail it off.
Beau quickly raised his cell phone up high out of Dwight's reach.
Deputy Will, the ME and Walt started to snigger.
"You can't take photos of a crime scene," Dwight spluttered excitedly as he tried, with arms raised, to grab hold of the cell phone. He looked like a plump ballerina.
Walt grinned at Dwight then at Lou. "Come on, Lou, leave Beau alone . . . he's been through enough."
"Uh-uh," was Lou's reply. "Hand it over, Beau."
"Shit," Walt mumbled under his breath. He nodded to Beau.
Beau heaved a sigh and handed the cell phone to the deputy, but dropped it into the toilet.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Dwight demanded with as much authority as he could muster.
"Go fetch it if you want it that bad, blubber guts," Beau teased.
Dwight gave a hurt look to Beau before looking down into the toilet.
Walt chuckled at Dwight's discomfort. With a manly swagger he turned his attention back to the toilet bowl. Walt unzipped a chest pocket and removed a pair of heavy duty latex gloves, extra long, which he slowly slipped over his hands with a resounding snap.
Lou heaved a woeful sigh. "Hold it Walt! This time we should keep the crime scene intact. I want you to drain the water from the toilet bowl and unscrew the fixings and bring the toilet intact to the Medical Examiner's lab." She glanced over at the ME who nodded his head in agreement.
Lou rushed from the bathroom with Dwight and Will in tow.
* * *
A LITTLE OVER TWO HOURS later, the Fluckers staggered out of the Funderburk House with the offending toilet between them, wrapped in a body-bag.
A rapturous cheer came from the large crowd of Beaverites and deputies awaiting the arrival of said toilet.
Walt and son had great difficulty heaving the cumbersome toilet into the back of their Dumpster Mobile.
Both men removed hankies and mopped their sweaty brows.
Grimaces and yucks came from the crowd.
Sheriff Lou hopped into her patrol car and drove off.
Following her were the deputies' cars, the ME's car and Walt's Dumpster Mobile.
Lou's thoughts drifted towards Willis. That's it.
< >
41
A COUPLE OF MONTHS LATER, Lou sat at her desk dressed in a white bridal gown, just one hour before getting hitched to Willis. She had just enough time to tidy up her desk. Deputy Dwight entered her office. She picked up a file marked "Phantom Bigfoot Bather Case" and dropped the file into a drawer then slammed it shut. There had been no new cases since number five, but Lou didn't feel optimistic. She felt sure there would be more. Question was-when?
Dwight hovered with a peculiar look on his face.
She looked at him. "Please don't tell me the Phantom Bather has struck again?"
"Not exactly." He cleared his throat. "Well . . . you're not going to believe this, sheriff?"
"Try me."
"You see . . . it's kinda like this . . . Walt's been abducted, again."
"Little Beaver?"
"Where else?"
"How do you know he was abducted?"
"Go ask Duane, he witnessed the whole thing."
"Where is he?"
"In the outer office." Dwight gave a slight chuckle.
Sheriff Lou sighed heavily and thought whatever Duane would tell her she wouldn't believe. "Until I get back from my honeymoon, it's your case." She stood up.
Dwight admired her wedding dress, "You look absolutely ravishing, Lou."
"Why, thank you, Dwight." With that, Lou stepped out of her office to stare in utter amazement at Duane.
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS Duane-o stood before her looking gorgeous as she knew he could. His clean-shaven face grinned at her. His beautiful blond hair was neatly trimmed. His black tuxedo showed off his muscular body. He was an Adonis with a delicious aroma to match.
Lou's face flushed as she thought what she could do to him, but thoughts of marrying Willis confused her. She became breathless due to the tight bodice she was wearing.
"Are you okay, Lou?" Duane asked.
No she definitely was not alright. She felt light-headed. Lou swooned.
Duane caught her in his strong arms.
Lou looked up and swam in Duane's blue eyes. "Oh Duane . . . you've ruined everything."
WHILE THIS WAS GOING ON, Acting Sheriff Dwight sat at the computer and used the mouse to activate a hidden file.
On the screen appeared the lurid picture of Bigfoot seated on the toilet, eating a doughnut. He used the mouse to activate the printer. Dwight rubbed his hands together with excitement.
"This is going to be so cool."
LATER THAT DAY, the town welcome sign had the same lurid picture taped to it with a desperate plea-"Has anyone seen this toilet?-If so, please contact the sheriff's department immediately."
This message was also displayed on every lamppost, telephone pole, electricity pole and on every milk carton in town, as ordered by Acting Sheriff Dwight.
THE END
About the author
Simon Okill turned to writing as therapy after a disability forced him into early retirement. He has written a number of screenplays and has several novels in progress. He lives with his wife, Shirlee Anne and their cat, in a pretty coastal town in South Wales, UK.
