Zengo’s phone buzzed. It was a Kalamazoo City Krier news alert. “Hey, guys, check this out,” he said. “Frank Pandini Jr. has just been announced as a surprise guest on Kalamazoo City Today.”
“Huh,” said O’Malley as they got up from their chairs to scurry to the break room. “Must be some kind of big announcement.”
Diaz turned on the set, which filled with the image of the great Frank Pandini Jr. sitting on the famous Kalamazoo City Today couch, hot seat for the rich and famous. He sat opposite the host, Jaiden Meltzer.
“Go on,” said the host.
“The mayor negligently pushed this Dome project forward,” said Pandini. “It was for his own personal gain, not for the good of the city.”
“That’s a mighty powerful allegation,” said Jaiden Meltzer. “I assume you have the facts to back it up?”
“Absolutely,” said Pandini. “Everyone knows that as Mayor Saunders headed into his last term, his poll numbers were dangerously low. He had no intention of heading out with his tail feathers between his legs. He saw the Dome as the key to securing his legacy. He’ll have his legacy, all right—at the expense of the taxpayer: their lives, possibly; their money, definitely. Even if everything went perfectly, it will take more than TEN YEARS for the Dome to recoup the taxpayers’ investment. Now comes this fiasco of an opening. The Dome is doomed—and it will probably take the whole city down with it.”
“What should the mayor have done differently?” pressed Jaiden Meltzer.
“For starters, he should have hired a competent team,” said Pandini. “Not to mention a local one. Do you know that not a single person involved in the planning and construction of the Dome is from Kalamazoo City? We are sending our hard-earned tax dollars over to Walhalla. And why on earth did the mayor decide to build the Dome on top of the dump? The mayor must think we want our kids playing in a garbage pit. What do you make of that?”
The host looked disgusted and shook his head. Zengo and O’Malley shared a look. Jaiden Meltzer was a popular figure in the city. If Pandini got Meltzer on his side, the mayor was in trouble. As much as Pandini made Zengo’s blood burn, he had to admit the guy could work a room—or in this case, a camera.
“Of course not!” continued Pandini. “You don’t want that! None of us do!”
“Well, what can we do about it?” asked Jaiden Meltzer.
“Facing this tremendous failure of leadership, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands,” said Pandini. “I’ve hired my own team of scientists—at my own expense, naturally—to test the land down at the Dome. Preliminary findings are very discouraging. All that rotting garbage buried underground is oozing toxic chemicals into the water supply, and the waste from the construction is polluting the air. Mayor Saunders could have used green initiatives, like solar power and other forms of renewable energy, but did he? No. The Dome is a burden on our ecosystem, which was fragile enough before this whole thing started.”
“Why have you decided to invest so much of your own money in this, Mr. Pandini?”
Pandini’s face grew earnest as only Pandini’s could. “Because, Jaiden—I care for this city with every hair on my body. I’m heartbroken by what is going on. I want this city to succeed. I even brokered the deal to bring the next Chase Mercy movie here, no thanks to Mayor Saunders. It’s his lack of proper leadership that has brought this shame on our city. And it’s time for him to face the music.”
“What are you suggesting, Mr. Pandini?” Jaiden Meltzer asked, leaning forward even farther in his chair. Zengo looked down and found that he was doing the same.
Pandini sat back in his chair, and said calmly, “I think it’s high time Mayor Saunders stepped down.”
THE CORNER OF SOUTH STREET AND KALAMAZOO BOULEVARD, 10:00 A.M.
By the time O’Malley and Zengo hit the streets that morning, Chase Mercy mania was at a fever pitch. Shortly after Pandini finished his television appearance, he announced that he would personally ensure that no matter what happened with the Dome, the filming would stay right there in Kalamazoo City. Everywhere the detectives turned, Chase Mercy’s face was in their faces. Kiosks crammed with magazines, T-shirts, and an array of Chase bling were doing brisk business on every street corner.
Zengo rummaged through the merchandise arrayed in a cart set up at the corner of South and Kalamazoo. “Hey, O’Malley, how about a Chase Mercy key chain?” he said, nudging his partner. “Or a Chase Mercy pillowcase?”
O’Malley flashed his badge to the street vendor. “You have a license, pal?”
The vendor snatched the pillowcase away from Zengo and hurried off with his loot.
“Heh. Lousy parasites,” said O’Malley. “I’m sure Squirt has got plenty of cash already, but it’s not right for folks to be making a quick buck off of his mug.”
“What? You don’t think these guys are giving Mercy a royalty from this ‘official’ Chase Mercy merchandise?” Zengo smirked.
“No way,” said O’Malley as they continued to meander down South Street. They were just blocks from the Dome, staking out the area. Diaz and Lucinni were detailed to shake down the Dome’s security staff for any information on the saboteur who was photographed wearing one of their security uniforms.
But it was slow going on South Street. The sidewalk and even the street were clogged by the hordes of Chase Mercy fans who were camped out near the Dome, hoping to catch a glimpse of the superstar.
They stepped around a couple of female fans who had set up lawn chairs and were playing cards to pass the time. Each card, of course, had Chase Mercy’s face printed on the back. “Don’t you kids have something better to do?” grumbled O’Malley.
Zengo’s phone buzzed—it was another news alert. Mayor Saunders was about to hold a press conference at the Dome. “O’Malley, we need to get to the Dome now,” he said, showing the text to O’Malley before stuffing the phone back into his pocket.
“There’s no way we’ll get there in time with all these people clogging the roads.” O’Malley pointed to an old appliance store across the street. “Let’s head to Barney’s and watch it on TV. Glad to see old Barney is still here.”
“But not for long, apparently,” said Zengo, pointing to the GOING OUT OF BUSINESS sign that hung on the door.
“Aw, crud! Barney’s been in business in this neighborhood for years!” said O’Malley.
“Well, it was only a matter of time,” said Zengo, pointing to the construction site located directly across from the old-fashioned shop. The logo for TV World—a big-box electronics store—was displayed on the chain-link fence that cornered off the site.
The bell over the creaky door jangled as Zengo and O’Malley walked into Barney’s shop. Televisions lined the wall. All were tuned to an animated movie to show off the high-definition screens.
Barney was all smiles as the partners entered.
“O’Malley, yah old lug! What brings you in?”
“Hey, Barney, you mind if we switch the channel to the news conference the mayor is about to give?” asked O’Malley.
“Fine by me,” said Barney, his grin giving way to a scowl, “just don’t be offended if I spit at the screen.”
“Yeah, the mayor sure is taking a beating in the polls,” said Zengo.
“Well, I’m going outta business thanks to his ‘forward thinking,’” sneered Barney. “I thought that all the traffic that the Dome would bring to this area would be good for business. And it would be—if the mayor hadn’t green-lit the big-box stores coming into this neighborhood at the same time.”
“That stinks!” lamented O’Malley.
“Yeah, well—say good-bye to all of the little storefronts around here. Mayor’s legislation is gonna be pushin’ us all outta business.”
Just then, the television screens lit up with images of Mayor Saunders stepping behind the podium. “Greetings, my fellow Kalamazooians. I’ve come before you to respond to the unfounded, slanderous attacks launched at me by an individual who I thought was a good f
riend of mine, and of our entire city. I am as shocked as I am hurt by the words that Mr. Pandini Jr. had for me earlier today. The bottom line is—he’s wrong. The Dome is on track to bring millions of dollars into Kalamazoo City. Our tourism industry is on the rise, and our city is now a family destination for the whole country, thanks to the Dome. Moreover, the air and water here by the Dome are clean and safe. I don’t know where Mr. Pandini is finding these scientists of his, but I sure hope that it isn’t from the same place where he’s hiring his restaurant employees.”
Burn, thought Zengo, remembering his first case, when the Platypus Police Squad discovered one of Pandini’s barbacks at Bamboo was selling illegal fish.
“Now, there has been much talk about Pandini Enterprises and what they have done to bring Chase Mercy’s next film to KC. And there is no doubt that Pandini did help to put us in touch with certain people in Hollywood. But it was me, your mayor, who convinced Chase to film his next movie in his hometown. Chase is a citizen that we can all be proud of, just as the Dome is a part of our city we can all be proud of.
“But don’t just take my word for it. Please welcome back to Kalamazoo City Mr. Chase Mercy.”
Nobody expected this. Chase wasn’t expected in town for another week. But here he was, taking the stage and flashing his million-dollar smile, waving to the press covering the event while the huge crowd went crazy. He was inundated by flashes that fired like heavy artillery. He was clearly a pro at this game, what with the countless red-carpet events he had attended over the years.
“Squirt, man,” O’Malley said to himself. “I can’t believe it.” Looking at his old schoolmate must have made O’Malley feel a little insecure about the shape that he was in, thought Zengo. Here are two guys the same age—one is chubby and balding; the other is lean and handsome.
“Hello, Kalamazoo City!” said Chase. The reporters on scene erupted in applause. “I am so happy to be back in my hometown. I want to thank you all for being here, and for this fabulous welcome. And I especially want to thank Mayor Saunders for making all of this happen. You know, a lot of important decisions go into moviemaking. And when we were deciding where to film my next Spy Masterson movie—well, Mayor Saunders just made us an offer that we could not refuse. I know that filming in town will require a lot of patience from everyone. Some streets will get closed down from time to time, restaurants will be filled up with our crew, and at times we’ll need to close the awesome Dome that Mayor Saunders built. But in the end—it’ll all be worth it. Because we will be making Kalamazoo City, the city we all love, a part of film history.” More applause erupted.
“Good grief,” said O’Malley.
“What? This is exciting,” said Zengo.
“I just can’t believe little Squirt Mickleheimer is here pretending he loves Kalamazoo City so much. The way I remember it, he couldn’t wait to get out of here the minute he graduated. As if anyone noticed.”
Zengo couldn’t help but feel a kinship with Chase Mercy, if only because his partner called both of them by offensively belittling nicknames. “Do I detect a bit of jealousy in there, tough guy?”
O’Malley snorted. “No way. I don’t need to leave town and come back pretending I’m some kind of hero to be comfortable with who I am.” Zengo couldn’t help but notice, however, that his partner’s gaze had dropped to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. Chase Mercy isn’t our problem. The Dome is. We need to figure out what’s going on here, because it looks like the Dome is going to start drawing crowds again. The mayor knows exactly what he’s doing here. He’s playing the public like checkers.”
“So is Pandini,” said Zengo.
“You’re right. And I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when one of them wins.”
KALAMAZOO CITY HALL, 1:00 P.M.
Mayor Saunders’s staff had hastily organized a ceremony on the steps of City Hall to bestow the Key to the City on Chase Mercy. Representatives from all of the city’s high-school marching bands had been rushed in and were onstage playing the beloved tune “Invincible”—the theme song from the Spy Masterson movies and the new unofficial anthem of Kalamazoo City.
Zengo and O’Malley were perched on the rooftop of an adjacent office building, scanning the crowd with their binoculars. They were opposite Diaz and Lucinni, doing the same thing on a building across the street. Downtown was absolutely mobbed. Kalamazoo City was bursting with fanfare.
“Quite a scene,” said Zengo.
“Yeah, the kind of hullabaloo usually reserved for a Sharks World Series championship,” said O’Malley.
Zengo put his binoculars down and glared sideways at his partner. “You’re lucky, old man. The last time the Sharks went all the way, I hadn’t even been born yet.”
Zengo had hoped to get a little rise out of O’Malley with that dig. But his partner was unperturbed. “Maybe someday, rookie,” said O’Malley as he scanned the crowd.
“Check out who has the best seats in the house,” said Zengo, motioning toward the main stage at the top of the stairs at City Hall. Frederick Treeger, Audrey Davis, and Maurice Robertson all perched on choice seats.
“Ah, our old pals,” sneered O’Malley.
“Man, folks will stop at nothing to get a little taste of celebrity,” said Zengo. “I bet these clowns from Walhalla took the Dome job just to get in on some Chase Mercy action.”
“They may all hate on each other behind closed doors, but they sure are happy to smile for the camera,” said O’Malley as he watched Derek Dougherty snap photos. Zengo watched in admiration as the amphibian slithered at odd angles to capture more award-winning photographs.
“I wonder how many kids here skipped school,” griped O’Malley as he focused his binoculars on a gang of kids.
“The mayor was nuts to hold this during school hours. It’s just asking for trouble.” Zengo scanned the crowd, but stopped when he saw a familiar face. He didn’t want to tell his partner who he saw, but he had no choice. “Uh, hey . . . O’Malley, I hate to tell you this, but Jonathan is here to see his ‘hero.’”
O’Malley’s binoculars swerved over to where Zengo was pointing. Jonathan was wearing a ball cap and carried the same backpack he brought to school every morning. The senior O’Malley’s blood reached a boiling point. “I’ll put him on lockdown for the rest of the school year! He had a test this afternoon! I helped him study!”
“How did he even get out of class?” asked Zengo. “McKeever runs a tight ship over at Kal East.”
“Well, we’re about to find out. Let’s go!” O’Malley grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Diaz, Lucinni, come in. Do you read me?”
In a moment, Diaz’s voice came over the radio. “Ten-four, O’Malley.”
“Zengo and I are hitting the street. You have us covered?”
“Roger that,” said Diaz. Zengo looked across the street, and Lucinni waved his stubby, webbed hand in the affirmative. Zengo wasn’t sure that this was the best way for them to maintain surveillance on the area, but he knew for a fact that there would be no talking O’Malley out of confronting his son.
The two detectives spilled into the city streets among the Chase Mercy fanboys and fangirls, many of whom had dressed up as characters from his movies. O’Malley looked back at Zengo, and pointed to a Kal East baseball hat bobbing ahead in the crowd. He pushed ahead through the sea of people. Zengo was close behind, attempting to keep a low profile. They were, after all, on duty and undercover.
O’Malley finally caught up with the kid. He grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “You are in some serious hot water, son!”
“Dude! What gives?” snapped the kid he’d grabbed. It was definitely not Jonathan.
“Uh, I, uh . . .” Zengo had never seen O’Malley at such a loss for words. “Sorry ’bout that!” He awkwardly patted the kid on the shoulder.
In the few minutes that it took Zengo and O’Malley to get down from the roof of the building, the crowd had swelled considerably. There was no way they would find Jonathan in
this mess. As they got ready to give up, the band stopped.
“Citizens of Kalmazoo City!” boomed Mayor Saunders’s voice over the loudspeakers. They looked up to see he was at the podium now, holding up a cartoonishly large key. “I am so honored to have you all here today as we bestow the key to our beloved city to our native son—HOLLYWOOD LEGEND CHASE MERCY!”
The crowd roared, but Zengo was confused. There was no way that there was a single keyhole in the entire city where that key could possibly fit.
Chase Mercy walked onto the stage and waved to the crowd, and the roar grew louder. Man, this guy was good, thought Zengo.
“Keep your eyes on the crowd,” whispered O’Malley. “While they’re staring at the action hero, we might catch some action of our own. If the saboteur at the Dome was out to squash Chase Mercy’s filming, he or she might try something here as well.”
Zengo nodded. They both scanned the audience as well as the platform of dignitaries. Then, at the shadowy edge of the pomp and circumstance, Zengo noticed a suspicious-looking character. He poked his partner in the chest. “Lookit!”
O’Malley saw him, too. A chunk was missing from his ear, just like the one in the photo Derek had snapped that night at the Dome. “It’s him! It has to be,” whispered O’Malley.
“Looks like he’s scanning the crowd himself,” said Zengo. The guy was looking nervously back and forth. “Let’s nab him before it’s too late!”
Zengo started to rush forward, but O’Malley grabbed his arm. “No, we’ve got to sneak up on him. Look at the size of this crowd. If he bolts, we’ll lose him!”
Zengo agreed. The suspect was on the far side of the stage. The detectives slowly made their way through the crowd, careful to not get caught. “He’s standing pretty close to Chase Mercy’s security team. It looks like they don’t even notice him,” whispered Zengo.
Platypus Police Squad : The Ostrich Conspiracy (9780062071675) Page 7
