Authors: Dennis Larsen
classes," she assured him.
He spun the dial on the lock, like
he'd done a hundred times before, but the
mechanism did not open. Seymour laughed
nervously, looking back at the officers, as
he tried the combination again, this time it
opened easily, and he pulled the lock from
the locker and stepped aside, "Take a look
for yourself, just my sweaty gym stuff."
Natalie deferred to the city
patrolman, as she was actually outside her
jurisdiction. The city officer opened the
locker and noted, just as Seymour had
indicated, that it appeared to be gym
accessories. He looked through the items
at the bottom and acknowledged, along
with Officer Guest, that the shoes were
Nike's. Changing his attention to the upper
shelf, nothing seemed out of place. He
withdrew a pen from his shirt pocket and
lifted the clothing behind the deodorant so
he could see underneath. Seymour stood at
such an angle that he could not see into the
locker, but was not worried, knowing
there was nothing there.
"Seymour Wood, I'm placing you
under arrest for bringing a firearm onto a
state-run university. Other charges are
likely to follow, but please turn around
and place your hands behind your back."
Natalie was just as shocked as
Seymour, "What you got officer?" she
asked, as he cuffed Seymour.
He pushed Seymour over to the
campus cop, as if he were to watch him
then returned to the locker, and lifted the
clean clothing, again with the pen,
revealing to Guest the silver revolver
underneath. She took a pair of white
gloves from her rear pocket, put them on,
and removed the gun from the hiding
place, a Smith & Wesson .38 Special.
Natalie lifted the barrel to her nose, a faint
smell of gunpowder indicated the gun had
been fired sometime recently. Looking
into the cylinder, she could see the
weapon was loaded.
"Seymour, where did you get this
gun and have you fired it recently?" she
asked.
"I swear, I've never seen that gun
before. How could it have gotten there? I
don't even know...." he said, not believing
what was happening. "Isn't it obvious that
somebody put that there for you to find?"
"Seymour, it's going to go way
better for you if you cooperate with us
now, and tell us everything you know," the
patrolman said.
"But I am cooperating! I have no
idea how that got there! I've never seen it
before!"
Natalie suddenly got a sickening
feeling in the pit of her stomach, "Hold on
a minute, give me a sec to call in to the
Sheriff, okay?" she asked the arresting
officer.
"Sure, knock yourself out," he
replied.
She keyed the microphone at her
shoulder and reached dispatch, "This is
Deputy Guest, can you get 'The Wolf' on
the horn." A moment later the Sheriff was
at the other end.
She explained the situation, the
finding of the gun and the arrest of
Seymour Wood, and then asked, "Do you
remember the make and model of that
pistol that was taken from the third of our
break-ins?"
"Yup, Smith & Wesson .38
Special, why? What you got there?" he
asked, excitement unmistakable in his
voice.
"The same. I'll go with the officers
to booking, then call to get the serial, see
if this is really our guy," Natalie said.
"What do you mean, ‘really your
guy’? What the hell are you talking about?
That is not my gun!" Seymour blurted out,
almost in tears.
"Good work Guest, call me when
you get there," the Sheriff concluded.
Seymour was read his rights, and
the trio again moved together, Seymour in
cuffs and the gun being carried by Natalie
in a gloved hand. Forensics had been
phoned to process the locker, and the
campus security individual had been left
to secure the site, until they arrived. Lester
was absolutely overcome with emotion
when he saw the three depart from the
gymnasium, click, click, the shutter
working quickly. With Seymour, his
competition out of the way, almost
certainly for an extended period of time,
there was nothing more for Lester to do
but go home and make the final
preparations for his departure with
Blanche.
Seymour sat in the back of the
squad car, a tear running down his cheek,
not understanding what had just happened,
but desperately needing someone that
would just believe him. He needed to
speak with Blanche.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Jeremy broke his own rule and
phoned Iggy’s cell from a payphone half
way between his office and home. The
communication
through
the
online
apparatus made it sound like the
culmination of their years of planning was
to take place this week. He wanted to hear
it from his mouth that everything was a go.
There could be no screw-ups; they would
not get a second chance.
Iggy answered the phone on the
third ring, “Hello, Director Savard.”
“Iggy, it’s me, I will keep this
brief. Your last message said you were
prepared for this week. Do you have
everything our man will need?”
He immediately recognized the
voice as Jeremy’s but was disappointed
that there was no exchange of niceties
before getting to the gist of the call.
“Yeah, Felix coded a message to me
yesterday saying, he’s ‘in like Flynn’ with
your step mom and thinks either
Wednesday or Thursday would work for
our guy.”
“Great, but do you have everything
he will need? It must appear to him that
it’s the same as the others, however, we
will want him to be there at a specific
time.” Jeremy paused and thought for a
moment. The line was silent but for the
sound of the two men breathing. “Do this.
Tell him that we know the target will be
out of the house at 8:00 p.m., doing a
showing that we have arranged, and he’ll
be free and clear for at least two hours.
Tell him we want the place ransacked,
needs to be more bizarre than anything
he’s done. We want him to carry on the
premise that the perpetrator is escalating
his theme.”
“Okay, that sounds good. I’ve got
the same stuff as before, key, picture,
layout and general information. Can you
think of anything else?”
“Yeah, throw in an extra thousand
bucks cash, tell him it’s a bonus for doing
such a good job and that the rest of his
money will be sent when the job is done.
You think Felix is up to this?”
“I guess we’ll find out. I think he’s
actually enjoying himself, in a strange kind
of way,” Ignatius said.
“Okay Iggy, make this happen.
Coordinate everything for Thursday night,
that’s four nights from now, at 8:00 p.m.,
do you have any questions?”
“No, other than, when do we hear
from you again?”
“Could be months, just stick to the
plan. Don’t you two screw this up!”
There was no goodbye, just the
click of the receiver as the line was
disconnected.
Iggy sat in his car mulling over the
discussion he’d just had with his ‘friend’.
They had thought of everything, he was
sure they had. He was anxious to have it
all over with. The sneaking around, the
plotting, and the stress of it all were taking
its toll. He didn’t know how much more
he could put up with. At least it appeared
as if there was light at the end of the
tunnel. He pulled up his laptop and logged
onto the forum, formatted the message in
such a way that Felix would understand,
and hit ‘finish’.
He would get the message,
‘Thursday night it’s a go, 8:00 p.m., final
performance, speak with a friend.’
Felix had done his homework,
looked over all the information and
statistics, land surveys and everything else
Beverly had provided him. He spent an
hour Monday morning on the phone with
the Developers discussing the pros and
cons of the property. He was relieved to
hear that they weren’t ready to commit but
wanted some more work done before
making a final decision. This was not
Felix’s first time around the block with
real estate deals. He’d worked in Chicago
behind the scenes, to secure and flip
properties identified by the corrupt
mayor’s organization, with a little
something always kicked back their way.
He could make anything look legitimate,
which was his specialty.
He worked on the dining room
table at Caroline’s, typing and drafting the
documents that he would normally want
approved and looked over, by both a
buyer and seller, before he brokered a
final deal. He made sure that Mrs. Muir
and Caroline knew exactly what he was
doing, the more witnesses the better at this
point. “Don’t appear to hide anything,”
Jeremy had said. When he completed a list
of questions that the CEO wanted
answered, he called Beverly Davis.
“Beverly, how are you? Felix
Unger here.” He waited for a response.
“Felix, I was hoping I’d hear from
you today. Did you get the documents I
scanned and emailed you?” she said,
while looking into the rear view mirror of
her BMW, smoothing her hair and
checking her makeup.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m
calling. I’ve been on the phone a good part
of the day with the CEO, and they are still
very interested, even more so now that
I’ve filled them in, but they have a few
questions and concerns they would like
me to address with you,” the smooth Felix
said.
“Oh, well that sounds really good.
I’m sure I can clear up any concerns or
question ya’ll may have, and the other
reason you phoned?” she asked, already
knowing the answer.
“I don’t know how much longer
I’ll be in town but I just can’t get you off
my mind. Was wondering if you’d like to
have a drink or two with me tomorrow
night. I’m kind of tied up till then, we
could go over the list of concerns I’ve got
and spend some time together, kill two
birds with one stone,” he said, almost
dropping the phone when he realized what
he’d said.
“That sounds lovely. Should we
meet or do you want to pick me up?” she
asked.
They
finalized
their
meeting
arrangements, agreeing to meet at a local
bar for some ribs and drinks and
'whatever', the following night.
Felix needed to make one thing
clear to Bev and wanted to get the
phrasing just right, “Bev, I hate to even
say anything, but I just want to be clear
about one thing. I have a reputation to
uphold, if the company I’m representing
were to get word that I was having
anything but a professional relationship
with a business associate, especially with
one as attractive as yourself, it could be
devastating for my personal business. Do
you see where I’m going with this?”
“Certainly, I understand perfectly.
I will keep our meetings and dealings
strictly to myself until such time that we
need to involve other parties. How does
that sound?”
“I would really appreciate it, can’t
wait to see you tomorrow.”
Once off the phone with Felix, Bev
hit another number from her cell and
dialed the Valdosta Library. Blanche
answered the phone, as she always did,
pleasant and professional.
“Is this the beautiful and busty
bombshell that runs the library?” Bev
said, in a loud obnoxious voice.
“If this is Bev Davis it is, but if
it’s Ester Anderson, then no, you must
have me mistaken with someone else,”