by Peter Ponzo
Chapter 34
Now Ah'm not much fer worryin', but thet affliction is gettin' outta hand. First TO, then Arkansas, then Georgia. How? What's the connection? Though we got us a notice of the fuzzy corpses, we didn't get no details. Thet li’l lady says thet it don't spread by contact, 'cept through the blood. So how'd it git outta TO?
Ah sat at mah computer. Ah got me a sticker on it which says: Protected by Smith and Wesson.
Ah punched in mah password, logged onto the police computer network, clicked on Enquiry and typed "Georgia". Got me a whole mess o' stuff on the screen. Ah clicked on Homicide and got me a new mess. Then Ah clicked Recent (one month) and there was a list of 'bout two hundred names, arranged alphabetical. Abraham, Arnold, Busher, Clugman, Correy ... Didn't do me no good. Ah didn't have the corpse's name. Guess Ah had to go through 'em all. Ah clicked Abraham and got me a full name, address, dates, description of the body, probable/possible cause of death, officers who made the report and so on. This'd take a mighty long time.
Ah stared at the screen. It was a mite fuzzy, but at the top o' the screen was Search, so Ah clicked thet and got me a mess o' stuff, includin' Description, so Ah clicked on thet and typed "fuzzy stuff". The computer said No Match so Ah typed "affliction". No Match. Ah sat back and whistled a bit, then typed "unknown". Bingo! A bunch o' names who died from unknown causes. One name jest sorta jumped out.
Oerschott. Mebbe Hans? Mebbe Ah'd somehow got me the homicides in TO. Ah checked it out, clicking on Oerschott. Nope. It ain't Hans von Oerschott of TO. It said Oerschott, Werner, died of unknown causes, body covered in white fluff, the officer who reported the body was Jeffrey, Leslie. Ah hate names like thet. Ah assume thet Leslie was his first name, so Ah turn off the computer. Ah learned the hard way thet thet's the easy way to git back outta this computer network, else yuh gotta go back the way you came in, clickin' here 'n' clickin' there, closin' files, deactivatin' searches, collapsin' windows 'n' the like. Ah figured the computer kin do thet, so Ah jest pulls the plug. Hell, Ah figure the RAM slots on this computer got dodge truck parts installed.
"Maggie!" Ah yelled and mah secretary come bouncin' in.
"Yes, Mr. Boone?"
She ain't much of a looker, wider than she is tall, but she's one helluva good secretary.
"Ah need to talk to Leslie Jeffrey, a officer in Atlanta, Georgia. Kin y'all git him on the line, please 'n' thank you."
"Certainly, Mr. Boone." And she left immediately.
Now Ah had me a secretary once who'd say "What's his phone number?" or mebbe "Does he have a middle name?" or mebbe "What precinct?" If'n Ah knew all thet Ah'd do it mahself. Now Maggie, she don't ask for no more info. She's one helluva good secretary.
It was less than five minutes later thet Maggie stuck her head through the door. "Mr. Boone, I have your party on the line." She was smilin'. Nice smile. Nice teeth.
She's fast, this Maggie. Ah pick up the phone, but Ah think: Why's she smilin'?
"Willum Boone, here," Ah says.
"Why hello, William," a gal says. "Did you want something from me?"
"Leslie Jeffrey?"
"The same."
"Y'all ... uh, y'all are Leslie Jeffrey?"
"You got it."
Ah leaned back and put mah feet up. This was gonna be one fun investigation.
"Ah understand thet y'all found the body of a fella named von Oerschott. Ah'd be mighty pleased to hear 'bout it, anything thet ain't already on the network. Read what was there; not much."
"That's about it," she said, "but the name is Werner Oerschott; no von. I was on duty, got a call to go to 1417 Brille Drive, door was locked, nobody answered my knocking, let myself in through an open rear window, found the body in the tub: male Caucasian, about sixty, naked, covered in the damndest stuff. Fluffy, fuzzy stuff, from head to foot. Made enquiries, neighbours described the man, Werner Oerschott." She paused.
"Why'd the neighbours call to the police?"
"Screams, from the house. Neighbours bitched about the noise. Seems they didn't like this guy much. Kept to himself. But this night he was screaming—or, at least, somebody was screaming. Later, when they learned he was dead, the neighbours didn't shed a tear."
"Ah'd like to come down, to Atlanta, to see the body and talk to y'all. Okay? Tomorrow afternoon?"
"Not convenient. I'll be away all day. How about tomorrow evening?"
Yes, this was gonna be one fun investigation. "Y'all got a date," I said. A date? Why'd Ah say thet? "An appointment," Ah said. "Yes ma'am, tomorrow evenin', 'bout eight, an appointment."
Ms. Leslie gave me a address and I hung up, grinnin'. Or was it Ms. Jeffrey? Or was it Mrs.?
When Ah called mah secretary to git me a plane ticket she was still smilin'.
