David A. Schwinghammer
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· Soldier's Gap
· Soldier's Gap
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· Mengele's Double, Chapter 12
· Fisher of Men, Chapter 11
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· Honest Thief, Tender Murderer, Chapter 11.
· Mengele's Double, Chapter 10
· Honest Thief, Tender Murderer, Chapter 10
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· Mengele's Double, Chapter 9
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· Fisher of Men, Chapter Nine
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· Biden's Approval Rate Plummeting
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Will has enough evidence to arrest
Ned for stealing "Baby," the Caterpillar he once drove.
Chapter 9
Where Has All the Love Gone?
"Oh lonesome's a bad place
to get crowded into."
-–Kenneth Patchen
Three inches of rain had fallen during Ned's time in North Dakota, and Uncle Art's forecast called for a couple more in the next twenty-four hours. Ned spent the next few days pumping out basements on the low side of town. Since he got his money up front, he was able to catch up on his rent at the Mobil station and move back into his apartment. Funny thing, like an old friend who'd been off trying to find himself, the flying red horse had reappeared, still hanging by one chain and clanging up against the side of the building. He'd have to ask Peggy June about that when she got back. If she ever got back.
He managed to curb his drinking all that week, settling for a twelve pack of Blatz he took back to the apartment, that is until he got the letter from Henry's lawyer, notifying him that Henry was suing him over ownership of Uncle Stan's fishing lodge. Possession is nine tenths of the law or some such shit. Only nine months apart, people had mistaken Henry and him for twins most of their lives. And now this!
By the following Monday Ned began to worry that something had happened to Peggy June. He imagined several grim scenarios: She'd tried to slip Norb a Mickey Finn, but he'd been wise to her, blackened her eyes, broke her jaw. She could be in intensive care in a coma. He couldn't bring himself to even think about the "d" word. Or it could've happened the other way around. She'd coughed up that gun awfully easily. Norb could be making love to a stainless steel slab, and Ned wouldn't even know the diff. He read a Fargo paper he picked up at Purgatory Slope, where Peggy's mother was pinch-hitting for her. No mention of any killing. "Have you heard from Peggy June?" he asked. She looked stunned. "You mean you don't know where she is?" He told her he'd dropped her off in the Cities to do some shopping but had expected her back before now.
When the paperboy delivered his copy of the Chronicle, Ned read it cover to cover. Usually he didn't read the pathetic rag since the news was generally a week late, but he couldn't help but notice the headline on the front page: Watchman Takes Turn for the Worse. Old Donovan had contracted pneumonia. The doctors were afraid he wouldn't make it. Ned felt dizzy and sick to his stomach. If Donovan died, he'd be a murderer.
That night he went on a bender, behaving so obnoxiously he was thrown out of Snow's, first time ever. When he woke up Tuesday morning, he was positive Peggy June had sold him down the river. The money didn't bother him so much; it was just that he'd begun to care about her. Kind of liked her sassy attitude, and nobody had ever given him a present like the Picasso portrait she'd done of him. He hung it on the wall at the Mobil station.
That afternoon he was changing the oil on his truck when the mailman showed up with another letter from Loretta. He ripped it open right there in the yard.
Dear Neddie,
Well, I'm back in California. Guess what? Darwin's back.
I'm so confused! I just don't know how I feel. When I'm with you, I'm sure we're meant to be together forever, but when I'm with Darwin, I feel tingly all over. He's found a new job working for another real estate office with a chance for a management position. And he's getting along famously with Blake. Let's wait on the Christmas trip for now.
Love,
Lorie
Ned crumpled the letter into a little ball, tried to dropkick it across the street, missing badly, then ground it under his heel in the mud.
#
Preoccupied with the BCA investigation of the headless body in the woods, Will hadn't been able to check out the receipt he'd found at the Gohl farm. Too Tall Bengston had him interviewing the Schmidtgap family, as well as Howie's teachers, and known associates.
He only had twenty minutes before he had to be back at the office for a two-thirty interview, but he waited in line behind a tubby blonde who was trying to rent a carpet shampooer. Cliff O'Dell, a small ferret-faced, red-headed man, was patiently trying to explain to her he had rented the only one he had.
"But today's the only day I can clean, and the in-laws are coming for dinner next week," the woman said.
"You tried General Rental?"
"They don't have any either. Can't you tell me who you rented the shampooer to? Maybe if she finishes early I can--"
Cliff shook his head sadly.
The woman harrumphed. "Well, that's the last time I do business in here." She stomped out, giving Cliff the evil eye over her shoulder.
Cliff shrugged and held his palms out in the eternal what-are-you-gonna-do gesture. "Morning, deputy. What can I do for you, today?" Will showed him the receipt. "Don't have anything that I know of for that price," he said. "Maybe that's a total."
"You see Ned Tuttle in here on that date?"
"Ain't got that good a memory. He comes in just about every day, though, for one job or another. Wait a minute. Now I remember. Caterpillar yellow paint. That's why I couldn't think of what it was. He had me order it special when he was still working construction, and I had a few gallons left." O'Dell's face lit up like he'd just remembered a secret bank account. "Hold on! You're not telling me that Ned had something to do with that heist out there on the new bypass?"
"I didn't say that."
"Well then why else would he need Caterpillar paint?"
"Look, Cliff. Don't tell anybody I asked, huh? This is just a routine–-"
"You and Ned are good buddies, ain't‘cha?"
"We hang out sometimes."
"What you gonna do if you have to arrest him?"
By now, there was a crowd of people waiting in line behind Will and they were all interested. "I'll be going then, Cliff. You'll have that new drill for me by next week then?"
Cliff winked.
#
The noon hour crowd had long since dissipated at Mom's Café. A solitary customer sat at the counter next to the cash register, reading the sports pages of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Hamburgers sizzled on the grill, the smell of onions hanging on the air. Mrs. Fasbender, her hair done up in a red Aunt Jemima-style kerchief, pretended not to be listening to the conversation going on between Will Kneebone and Sonny Tuttle in the first booth by the window.
The two men stopped talking for a moment to listen to Art Voigt's low baritone on the radio above the grill discussing Ojibway fishing rights with Chairman Mad Bull, Mad Bull lecturing on the ancient battles between the Ojibway and the Ba-wahn over wild rice, sugar bushes, deer, fish, and medicines. Anishinabe blood had been spilled to win the land. According to some, the Ojibway had never meant to sell it. "An 1864 document states, ‘Very well, I will sell him the Pine Timber as he requests me to. From the usual height of cutting a tree down and upwards to top is what I sell you, I reserve the root of the tree.'"
Will and Sonny exchanged surprised expressions.
"Hadn't heard that one before," Sonny said.
"Me neither," Will said.
Will sipped at his coffee, awfully weak today for some reason and the creamer packets Mrs. Fasbender was experimenting with didn't help either.
"You look like you're in a bad mood," Sonny said.
"I may have to arrest your brother." Sonny sank lower in the booth. "It's not his drinking," Will said. "I think he stole that Caterpillar out there at the Robideaux construction site."
The sun reflected off Sonny Tuttle's glasses and Will couldn't see his eyes. "You haven't started drinking again, have you?" Sonny said.
"Really. He bought some Caterpillar paint at Hardware Hank's. Doc Benson says he's got a dog bite."
"That doesn't mean–-"
Will was pretty sure Sonny already knew about Ned's involvement in the theft. He was an even worse liar than Ned. "It was Ned's Cat that was stolen, the one he used to jockey," Will added.
"What if he returns the damn thing?"
"Not much chance of that happening. I found out where they had it hid, and there were semi tracks out there."
Sonny rolled up the sleeves on his blue button-down-style shirt and loosened his tie. "So, you think he's found a buyer?"
"You wouldn't know of anybody who'd loan him a semi, would you?"
Sonny bit his lower lip, then slowly shook his head. He knew somebody all right, but instead of furnishing the name, he said, "My brother and I don't move in the same social circles."
"Be that way. I'll find out."
They were both silent for the moment. Mrs. Fasbender watched them out of the corner of her eye, stirring her famous beef noodle soup.
Sonny took a drink of water. "Might not hurt Ned to do a little time. Maybe he could dry out once and for all."
Will's stitches itched and his eyes felt bloodshot. "There'd still be the Loretta matter to overcome."
"You'd think he'd get over her sooner or later."
"Speaking of women, how's your love life going?"
"I had a tete-a-tete with the superintendent. Told him the wife and I were separating and that I planned to marry Pete."
"What did he say to that?"
"Said the school board wouldn't like it much. That I should remember I was only an acting principal. I pretty much told him where he could put the job."
"You and Ned really are brothers, aren't you?"
"It's a thankless job. If you're not getting an earful from the parents, it's the faculty, and if it's not the teachers, it's the kids running off their mouths about the lame dress code, and if through some miracle they're all quiet, the goddamn school board chairman goes off on a rant. I want to go back to teaching."
"So then you've decided not to campaign for mayor?"
"Didn't say that. My point in running for mayor is to get the issues out there. This has been a one-man town long enough, whether Voigt is selling drugs or not."
"He may have lost his number one ally. Sheriff Tibbetts hasn't been in the office since the day I went off on him. Pretty sure he's still in town, though. Drove by his house a couple of times, and his cruiser is still there."
"What did you say to him?"
"Said I had some evidence that implicated him in that attempt on my life."
"That true?"
"Got what I think are his fingerprints on the payoff money, but I haven't heard back yet from the BCA forensics people."
"That would be pretty tough to explain away. So then, you're temporary sheriff?"
"Until somebody tells me different."
"Went to see Fred Merkle with what we had so far. He didn't think there was a story there yet, but that fingerprint might change his mind."
"I'd like to get something on Voigt, maybe goad him into doing something stupid."
Neither had any ideas about how they might go about doing that. They listened as Mad Bull explained that ninety-two percent of the fish caught on reservation lakes were taken by non-Indians who paid license fees to the state. "Never heard that one before either," Sonny said. "What's Voigt doing with Mad Bull on his show so much lately?"
"Trying to show he's open-minded. That's why he's going to be such a tough nut to crack. Practically no one in town will listen to Indians, except for good old Uncle Art."
Sonny slapped some change down on the table. "I'm off to see the printer about campaign posters. If I get elected, we'll at least be able to stop Voigt's sweetheart deals on his construction projects."
By the time Sonny left, the interview with Mad Bull had concluded and a cooking show had taken its place. Lila hung her coat on a peg and slid into the seat opposite Will. She was wearing the rose print dress with flutter sleeves he'd bought her for Christmas . . . with help from her mother. She threw her braid over her shoulder and reached for the menu. "What's the special today?"
"Walleye dinner for $3.95. Cost you three times that much in the Cities."
She closed the menu, caught hold of his hands. "When is Doc taking out the stitches?" she said.
"Day after tomorrow, if I don't rip them out myself before then."
"I've been working myself up to come talk to you," she said, smelling like a wild strawberry patch in the spring. "I was over at Doc's, asking about how you were, since you'd never tell me if it was really serious and I'd been feeling kind of queasy in the mornings, so he did a pregnancy test." She smiled.
"That's fantastic, Lila."
"You don't look that thrilled, Honey."
"Bad news; I'm going to have to arrest Ned."
They were interrupted by Mrs. Fasbender with pencil poised above her little green pad. The woman's overbite gave her a permanent smile. They both ordered the walleye. Mrs. Fasbender stuck the yellow stub of a pencil in her hair and left to fill the order.
"He stole the Caterpillar?"
"How'd you know that was it?"
"He loved that machine almost as much as Loretta. It was a crime when they fired him. They might as well have shot the poor man."
"You like him, don't you?"
"When I was a little girl, Ned would come over practically every day to see Loretta. He made a special point of asking me how I liked school and if I had any boyfriends yet. I was only eight years old. I was in love with him."
"You and Ned went out together a few times after the divorce."
"You're not jealous? I worshipped that man. When Loretta divorced him, I wouldn't speak to her for months."
"You two ever...?"
"You didn't really think I was a virgin when we got married; I was thirty years old. I would have married Ned if he hadn't made it so patently obvious that he . . . that he . . ."
"It doesn't matter, Lila. Ned hurt that old man out at the Robideaux Construction site. He may die."
"But you'll do everything you can to–-"
"I'll give him a chance to make it good. As good as he can possibly make it, that is."
"This should be the happiest time of our lives and yet..."
"Sonny thinks jail time may do Ned some good."
"Sonny would think that. He has this ‘I should've been the big brother' complex. When are you going to arrest Ned?"
"As soon as I can find the little monkey. He hasn't been around for a couple of days. If he hasn't got an awfully good alibi . . . He may even have the money on him."
#
The five-thirty whistle was sounding at the Pizza Supply when Will left the diner. It was raining again. It's been raining forever, Will thought. Everything smelled mildewy and there were holes in the Nikes he wore instead of official issue black oxfords.
As he drove around keeping an eye out for Ned's old pickup, he went through his list of boy names. So far Buck was his favorite, although he doubted Lila would go for that. When he'd first mentioned it, during one of her false pregnancies, she'd crinkled her nose.
Will knew that Ned had been evicted from the Mobil station and that unless he already had the money from the sale of the Cat, he'd be hard up. He also knew that the water didn't drain very well off the roof at Yeager's Super Mart.
He found him pumping water off of the flat part of the building, a stream arcing through the air, like Paul Bunyan taking a leak.
"Where you been?" he shouted. "Been looking for you for a couple of days."
Ned shut the machine off. "This is gonna take me another half hour or so. Is it important?"
"Yeah . . . I'd say so." The son of a bitch hadn't even thought about how embarrassing it would be for a deputy sheriff to have to arrest a buddy who'd committed grand theft. "Come on down, huh?"
Ned disappeared for what seemed like a good five minutes, and just as Will had begun to think he'd made a run for it, he popped around the corner with a big shit-eating grin on his face. "Congratulations," he said.
"About what?"
"Your new baby. Lila told me."
"But . . . she just told me about it."
The smile disappeared. "Oh . . . I didn't know. I ran into her at the Laundromat doing my monthly wash."
"Let's get a cup of coffee, huh?"
"I gotta get back. Old Man Yeager was pretty adamant he wanted the job done post haste."
"Police business, sport."
"I'm not gonna be able to finish the job, am I?"
They sat in the Bronco. "So whatcha got?" Ned said.
"You left a receipt for Caterpillar paint at the Gohl farm, and the hardware man says he kept a couple of gallons for you from the time you worked construction."
Ned rubbed his chin, a two-day growth of beard at least. "That's not much; what else you got?"
"You were bitten by a dog. Doc Benson told me, although it was like pulling teeth to get him to do it. The Cat you called Baby disappears. I got tire tracks. I'm sure if I go down the list of your old construction buddies I can match them up. Who was the woman who was with you?"
Ned lit a cigarette. "Don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
Will waved away the smoke. "Haven't you heard what they've been saying about second-hand smoke? It wasn't Peggy June Shippe, was it?" No wonder Ned was such a crumby poker player. It was written all over his face. "She hasn't been around lately and you two have been sleeping together. It wasn't that hard to guess."
The ash on Ned's cigarette flared as he took another drag. "Why aren't you chasing real criminals?"
"Actually I'm doing pretty well in that regard. Tibbetts hasn't been to work in a couple of days."
"What about Voigt?"
"I figure once we nail Tibbetts, he'll fall all over himself trying to cop to a lesser plea."
"One of them is a murderer."
"Tibbetts is an attempted murderer. I'm pretty sure his fingerprints are on some money I got from the Zwald kid's mother.
Judges don't like cop killers, especially if they're cops themselves."
"You're forgetting about the headless kid in the woods. Whoever did that isn't gonna go away easy."
"Let me worry about that. You gonna confess, or are you gonna make me look for your friend with the semi?"
"Lila told me she was gonna tell you about us. Is that what this is about?"
"This is about your stealing a bulldozer worth a quarter million."
"But . . . the damn thing . . . belongs . . . to Voigt. He deals dope to bubblegummers."
"So then you're admitting you took it."
"I'm not admitting nothing."
"So where's Peggy June?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"What's your best guess?"
"Dinkytown. She loves the place."
"You better hope I don't catch her with the money on her."
"There's no money. Would I be pumping muddy water off of Yeager's if I had that kind of dough?"
"Where you staying these days? I want to search the place."
"I assume you got a warrant. Let me go in and tell Yeager he's got to find himself another boy to pump the roof."
"We'll both go. I don't want you tipping Peggy June I'm looking for her."
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Web Site:
Mystery Writer
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Love ya!
Jane
I'm not much for whodunits, but your small-town story strikes home since I'm from a small town in Wisconsin and know how these intrigues develop. In my hometown, one of my childhood neighbors became an investigative lieutenant on the police force. He uncovered a scheme involving the chief and most of the police force stealing from most of the merchants on Main Street with keys they had supposedly to protect them from burglaries. They committed the burglaries and then investigated them without finding the culprits. This went on for years.
Ned didn't do it?
Ron