HIGHWAY HOMICIDE (20 page)

Judy looked from one to the other of them.

“Who the hell is
this
?” she said.

“And you tell me about
my
manners. You could at least be a little polite, dammit. This is someone I’ve brought in to help us all with this thing,” Carl said, smothering a grin.

“Oh, well, sorry. Hi,” she said, “and welcome to Cooper’s Corn… God Lord, its
David
!”

“Right in one, Jude. With one of Almost’s old uniforms, a hat and a pair of shades, you can hardly tell ‘em apart, can you? Alvin Ryan has agreed to let young Tommy Burns work in his shop until this is over. But he needs to be only just visible, way back inside. He’ll dress in jeans and a denim shirt just
like Dave does. We hope he’ll look enough like him to fool our man, at least from a distance.”

“Won’t that be putting Tommy at risk, though, Carl?” Judy asked
dubiously.

“We don’t think so, Jude, if that guy g
ets out of his Jeep for a second, we’ll be all over him like a rash. He’ll be safe enough.”

“Anything else, in this plan of yours?” Judy asked, her annoyance evaporating a little bit by now.
Now she was fully included, Judy’s ruffled feathers had been smoothed down nicely.

“We plan to recruit the help a good few of the guys in town, girls too, Jude,” Carl said.

“And what exactly will they all be doing?” Judy asked.

“Well, that’s where you come in, Jude. We expect you to be busier than a one armed paper hanger in this thing.”

“Oh,
we
do, do w
e
?” Judy said, but smiling this time. “And what exactly do
we
expect
me
to be doing, Sheriff?”

“Running the CCC for us,” Carl said.

“The
what
?”

“Our
Command Communications Center. We’ll ask all these people to act as kind of lookouts, all reporting in to you, Jude,” Carl told her. “Once we’ve located this guy, we don’t want to lose him again. So each lookout will report in to you, telling us where he is at any given moment. No one will be following him to give the game away either.”

“Game, Carl?” Jude said dry
ly.

“Christ, Jude, you know very
well what I mean. Anyway, he’ll be under constant surveillance all over town. The whole town will be behind us on this, Jude, I guarantee it. I plan to talk to as many of them as I can tonight. I don’t think this bastard will expect the whole town to be on the lookout for him tomorrow, will he?” Carl said. “And he sure as hell won’t be expecting Dave there as a goddamned deputy, either,” he added.

Chapter Thirty One

Carl opened the door and went inside. A few of the people at the tables looked up and waved. Some of those who were closer to him called out, “Hi, Carl,” or “Hi, Sheriff,”

“Evening, Carl,” Bert Ritchie said, coming over to join him. “What brings you out here? Business or pleasure? Deal you in?”

Carl shook his head. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Bert,” he said, smiling.

“Right and I’m supposed to believe that, am I? You’re still as full of crap as ever, Sheriff,” Bert laughed. “Since you’re all done up in your monkey suit, I guess its business then, is it?”

Carl nodded.

“’Fraid so, my friend. As you know, we’ve got some really bad stuff going down around here these days.”

“So, that’s why you’re here then? Looking for some help, are you?”

Carl nodded again as he watched the players.

Friday night had been penny ante poker night in the Parrish Hall for as long as Carl could remember. On Friday nights, the ladies, and a few of the guys who couldn’t wriggle out of it and were dragged there by their spouses, played Bingo at the church. The other guys and some of the ladies who preferred poker’s better odds, played cards at the ‘The Hall’.

The Parrish Hall was one of the oldest buildings in Cooper’s Corners. It had been the main meeting place for the town and surrounding area for years. When Ephrem Cooper had built the feed mill for the area’s farms, the Parrish Hall had also been built as a focal point as the small village community that bore his name grew.

In those days, dances, political rallies and even Gospel meetings had been held there.
Nowadays though, with other buildings as options, it was mainly used for wedding receptions, town meetings, Christmas parties, Harvest Festivals and of course, poker night.

“I guess you’ll want to be talking to everyone, then, Carl?” Bert said. “We’ll be taking ourselves a break in a few minutes. Wanna beer?’

Carl thought about that for a moment.

“Okay, Bert, thanks. Just as long as no one here reports me to the Sheriff for drinking on duty,” he said, smiling.

The old man cackled at Carl’s joke. He’d heard Carl say the same thing a hundred times before but he was still amused by it.

Bert was a spry and active ninety two year old and he was a crackerjack at poker. He would tell anyone that would listen, that
he’d been playing poker when they were all still playing with wooden blocks in kindergarten. He was probably right too.

Carl snap
ped open the bottle of beer Bert handed to him as he looked around the room. In this room he could already see a least a couple of dozen people who would be glad to help him.

Unlike many policemen, Carl was elected to his job as Sheriff by these people and others in the surrounding communities. Over the years of serving the
m faithfully and honestly, he’d earned their trust and friendship.

If there was any way at all to avoid actually laying down the law, Carl would usually find it. Unless it was blatant, like Errol Cook’s drunkenness, and even then the law was adjusted by Carl to fit the individual. He
wasn’t just a cop who filled in his time by handing out citations for petty law infractions. He had no use for quotas either.

He and Almost were there to protect the community’s residents to the best of their ability and the townsfolk knew it. If Carl or Almost needed their help, everyone would want to be first in line to offer their assistance.

As old Bert got up on to the stage, the room gradually fell silent. They could guess what he was about to say.

“Sorry to interrupt your games, folks, but
I just wanted to tell you Carl here wants a word or two with you all, come break time, okay?”

There were nods of agreement all round as they resumed their play. Finally, as each of the current hands came to a close, the players made their way over to the refreshment tables. When they were all back in their seats with a drink, a sandwich, a piece of cake or some cookies, Carl stepped up on to the stage.

“Good evening, folks,” he began. “As you all know, we’re currently having the worst spot of bother I believe Cooper’s Corners has ever seen. The worst in my memory anyway. The two recent murders, Forrest Appleyard and a young girl from Rutland, have both been killed right here in our community this week. As I’m sure you all know by now, Jack Finlay didn’t go anyplace with Dolly Cook either. No, folks, he stayed and got himself murdered right here in town too. As of now, we believe Dolly is dead also, although we can’t prove it at the moment. But if she’s dead, then it would have occurred over five years ago now,”

Carl paused for a moment to take a swig from his beer bottle.

“Right now though, and I’m sure you’ll all agree, we are mostly concerned about the recent killings, the murders of Forrest and the girl. Once these are attended to satisfactorily, we’ll investigate the older deaths.”

He paused again, gazing arou
nd the room and making sure he had everyone’s attention.

“We also know
the killer has been seen again in Cooper’s Corners as recently as,” He paused again for a moment for effect and then added, “yesterday!”

There were gasps of disbelief from his audience as he said this.

“Has he killed someone else then, Sheriff?” someone called out.

“Not as far as we know,” Car
l answered. “But we believe he’s certainly planning to.”

This comment generated a few more gasps from his audience.

“Who’s he after then?” another voice called, “Do you know who?”

Carl didn’t answer for a moment, and then said. “Let’s just put it this way. I know who he isn’t after rather than who he is. And I can tell you right now, he doesn’t have anyone in this room in his sights. That much I am certain of, okay?”

“How can we help, Sheriff?” a woman said.

“Ah, that’s what I was just coming to,” Carl said. “Thank you, Kitty, for reminding me. I just wanted to ask if any of you have noticed a stranger around town, driving a grayish brown Jeep, a new one. Jude says the color is taupe, ladies, if that helps.”

Carl took another swig of his beer as the assembled poker players talked amongst themselves. Then, at a back table, one of the male players spoke up. “You don’t mean the Triple A guy, do you, Carl?”

“Triple A?” Carl questioned.

“Yeah, you know AAA, the travel and road service people.”

“There’s a Triple A guy in town driving a Jeep like that, Russ, is that what you’re telling me?” Carl said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Sure,” Russ said, “I was talking to him. Not yesterday, though. The day before that, it was. He told me he was in town checking out stuff to update their New England Tour Book. Points of interest, good food places, accommodations, stuff like that.”

“Do you know where he’
s staying?” Carl asked eagerly.

“No, Carl,
‘fraid not, but he did say he was looking for something in particular. Didn’t say what it was though, but he did ask about you guys.”

“We guys? Do you mean the Sheriff’s Department? What did he want to know about us?” Carl said in a puzzled voice.

“Where your office was, how many there were of you, that kind of thing,” Russ said.

The room had gone completely silent except for the exchange between Russ and Carl. For the moment both their refreshments and their poker games were complete
ly forgotten. Carl suddenly realized he’d been both hasty and over confident in one of his previous comments.

There
was
someone in the room who could be a target! Russ Harris had seen and had actually spoken to the guy!

“Could you describe him for me then, Russ?’ Carl asked.

“Gee, Sheriff, I’m not much good at that stuff.” Russ replied.

“Try, Russ,” Carl said patiently.

“Well, let’s see now. He was tallish and youngish, I guess. Brown hair, I think. Didn’t see his eyes, ‘cos he was wearing shades.”

“Great going, Russ,” someone called out. “You just described half the young guys in town.”

“Okay, Glen, give him a break,” Carl said. “At least I know now I’m not looking for a little, old and bald midget, don’t I?”

“Sorry, Sheriff,” Russ mumbled.

“Thanks, Russ, and listen, guy, I’d like a word with you in private before I leave, alright?”

“Sure, Carl,” Russ said, a little uncertainly and feeling very embarrassed now.

“You reckon this Triple A guy to be the killer then, Sheriff,” someone called out.

“No, and let’s not get ourselves carried away here
, but I’d sure bet a bundle he’s got nothing to do with the Triple A either. He’s just someone I’d very much like to talk to that’s all.”

“Hey, Sheriff, if you’re prepared to bet a bundle, come on down here and we’ll deal you in,” a woman at one of
the nearest tables called out.

Carl smiled and then said. “One other thing. I’m trying to put a plan together to catch this killer, so how many of you can I count on if I need you?”

Every hand in the room went up, men and women; even though they had no idea what it was he wanted them to do. Even old Bert had his hand up.

Carl smiled again and nodded. “Thank you, all of you, I appreciate that. And, oh, yes, if any of you see this guy, and especially you Russ, since you’ve already spoken to him, call Judy, please, day or night. She’ll get in touch with me. And will all of you who want to help, please call in to Jude with your names, and thanks again, folks, enjoy your evening.”
              Then he paused, as they waited expectantly, and said, “I’m not really absolutely sure about this, but I do believe in any poker game where more than four aces turn up in any one hand, that would be considered to be a very serious contravention of the Vermont Gaming Regulations.” Carl watched the puzzled looks on some of the faces and grins on some of the others. “So, Florence - just put that extra one back in your handbag, there’s a good girl!”

A ripple of laughter went around the room and they all applauded as he left the stage, beckoning for Russ to jo
in him. He had to warn Russ he was in possible danger without panicking the rest of them.

As he got back i
nto his cruiser, Carl hoped he’d have the same kind of success with the Bingo players. If he was lucky he’d be able to catch them during their intermission as well.