Excerpt for 9 Twin Brothers Bail Bond Mysteries by R.T. Lawton, available in its entirety at Smashwords








9 TWIN BROTHERS

BAIL BOND

MYSTERIES


by R.T. Lawton




Copyright 2011


Smashwords Edition



Smashwords Edition, License Notes


This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


“The Bond That Keeps” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, May 2002

“The Bond Market” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, December 2002

“The Big Bail Out” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, May 2003

“The Bond Servant” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, September 2003

“The Other Bondsman” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, July 2004

“In Bond” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, November 2004

“The Bond That Ties” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, July 2006

“The Bondstone” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, May 2007

“The Bondholder” previously published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, May 2008



Cover art and formatting services by Michael Kliewer @ KGraphics




TABLE OF CONTENTS


The Bond That Keeps



The Bond Market”



The Big Bail Out”



The Bond Servant”



The Other Bondsman”



In Bond”



The Bond That Ties”



The Bondstone”



The Bondholder”




About the Author



THE BOND THAT KEEPS


With pale stubby, almost webbed fingers, Theodore slid his business card across the grey metal table in the interview room of the San Mateo County Jail. The card read:


TWIN BROTHERS BAIL BONDS

Cletis Johnston, proprietor

“When no one else will go your bond,

we’ll do you.”

Bail Agent: Theodore Oscar Alan Dewey


Jack Niedekker flipped the card over, then turned it back to the front side.

“There’s no address nor phone number on this card.”

“We ain’t in the yellow pages either,” Theodore added.

“Never heard of you guys.”

Theodore mopped his balding head and bumpy face with a large white handkerchief. New, persistent beads of moisture popped out just above the well-manicured, pencil thin mustache on his upper lip, gathered at his chin and dripped down onto an oversized gold chain resting on his hairy, open shirt chest. Having to wear a sport coat in the jail when the air conditioning had crashed didn’t seem to help matters.

“That’s cuz we only handle special clients.”

“What makes me so special?”

As Theodore’s hand paused in midair, the white on white silk handkerchief dangled from his clutching fist while the left little finger on his hand pointed straight out as if it had once been broken and then improperly set. A glint of light sparkled on the errant finger from the lump of a two-carat yellow diamond set in a gold pinky ring.

“First off, Jack...”

“Hey, Bud, we don’t know each other that well. Maybe you best call me Mr. Niedekker.”

“Of course, Mr. Niedekker. In any case, you’ve been charged with the armed robbery of Feingold’s Jewelry Store. Whereas the police don’t like to mention the amount taken — it allegedly encourages others to commit similar crimes on jewelry stores —insiders have calculated the retail value at well over a million dollars. That alone, puts you in a class of your own, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hey, the cops didn’t catch me with any jewelry and I’m not admitting to nothing.”

Theodore’s two bulbous eyes stared directly into the face of their future client.

“We are not your father confessor; we are merely your bonding company. All that the two of us need to do is come together on a mutually satisfying arrangement. I have two sets of papers here for you to sign.”

“Not so fast, Slick. You gave a first reason. What’s the second reason for you to bond me out?”

Theodore’s heavy-lidded eyes blinked.

“Mr. Niedekker, I remind you of our company’s motto; ‘When no one else will go your bail, we’ll do you.’ And believe me, with your prior record, no other bondsman will put up the large amount necessary for your bail. Seems you’ve been a very bad boy. You skipped bond on your last two arrests. Not really conducive to trust, is it?”

“How do you know I won’t run on you guys?”

“That’s where our agreement comes in.”

Theodore placed the paperwork on the table so Niedekker could read both sets.

“The contract on your right is the official paperwork which will be filed with the court. It specifies a certain amount of money that you pay us to go your bond. Of course, in reality you do not pay us that amount of money. We do this simply as a sham to satisfy the court that all is on the up and up.”

“I’m not sure I understand the sham part, but I don’t have this kind of money on hand anyway.”

“That’s where the second contract, our gentlemen’s agreement under the table so to speak, comes in. Here, you agree to provide a named item in your possession as security to our company, plus...”

“What item is that?”

Theodore referred to a small black notebook, flipping the pages until he found the desired reference.

“Through various channels that we won’t go into, it has come to the attention of our company’s proprietor that you have two specific paintings. Place them in our keeping and they will serve as warranty for your future appearance in court.”

“Hey, I got lots of paintings hanging on my apartment walls, but none of them are worth more than a couple thousand dollars each. Which ones do you want?”

Theodore again referred to the black notebook.

“Not the ones on open display, Mr. Niedekker. We want the two you have hanging in the concealed room, the double locked vault where you hold the fruits of your nighttime endeavors. I believe they are named Hijo de la Revolucion and La Angustia de Guerra. Their combined value runs right at half a million dollars.”

“How would you possibly know about those?”

“According to our sources, you committed a theft for order from a Beverly Hills fine arts gallery on Rodeo Drive, leaving much more valuable paintings behind. The local newspapers called it a meticulously planned and well-executed theft. Rather a nice move for your underworld reputation, I take it.”

The room grew in silence. Loud ticking came from the clock above the door. Water knocked and gurgled in the pipes inside the walls. Somewhere down the hall, a telephone rang. Finally, Theodore cleared his throat.

“Mr. Niedekker, I realize that this revelation of your secrets, supposedly known only to you, comes as somewhat of a shock, but I need remind you that time is of the essence here.”

Theodore began ticking off selling points on the tips of his fat little fingers, starting with the thumb.

“One, you were paid twenty-five percent up front to steal the paintings. Two, you stole the paintings. Three, you have not yet delivered the paintings to your client and won’t until next month as agreed upon by both parties. Four, if our company holds the paintings temporarily as collateral, it will guarantee your court appearance, because we both know that your client is the head of a large criminal organization that as a matter of honor would have to make a messy example of you if you failed to deliver said paintings as required.”

Now Theodore came to the tip of his errant little finger with the diamond pinky ring.

“Lastly, and very important to you, if you don’t get bonded out, you run the risk of someone else accidentally finding where you stashed the jewels from the Feingold robbery.”

With a certain wariness showing in his eyes, Niedekker folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to one side.

“I know you won’t tell me where you got your other information from, but who said I had the jewels?”

Theodore came as close as he ever did to smiling these days.

“Your partner in crime, Mr. Harvey Lightfoot, is also about to become one of our clients. Harvey, -- he allows me to call him by his first name – is a man of fire and ice, two rather interesting contrasts. I would say, a very volatile man for his line of work. He has the ability to invoke both the emotions of paranoia and hot passion to work himself up to violent acts, and then is able to use the coldness of his mind to see the action through no matter what. Which explains his priors for homicide, which somehow always seem to get bargained down to manslaughter.”

“Harvey ratted me out?”

“No, no, but he did pass our polygraph exam about not leaving the store with the jewels in his possession. And since there were only two of you, that means you carried off the jewels.”

“What difference does that make?”

“According to the terms of our unofficial contract, you give the paintings into our custody, plus ten percent of the jewels. Consider it a tithe. I will accompany you after your release from this institution to ensure that our company gets their fair share of the merchandise. So, if you’ll just sign here and here...”

Theodore handed over a 14K gold ballpoint pen.

“...then we can get the ball rolling.”

Pen in hand, Niedekker paused as if contemplating his options.

“Let’s say I make arrangements for my girlfriend to turn over the paintings to your custody.”

“Okay.”

“It’s only temporary, right? I get the paintings back after my court appearance?”

“Of course, or you may choose to repay the twenty-five percent up front commission to your patron of the stolen arts – assuming that he will accept those conditions – and go about your merry way to parts unknown.”

“I see. But regardless of those circumstances, you go with me to recover the jewels so you can get your blood-out-of-the-turnip money.”

“Our company doesn’t like to use such terms as blood money, but essentially you are correct.”

Niedekker poised with the pen over the official contract for a couple more minutes, then appeared to make up his mind. He signed at the bottom and pushed the papers across the table. He hesitated again over the signature line of the unofficial document.

Theodore turned his wrist to consult his gaudy Rolex watch, spelled with two L’s, and tapped the face of the dial to signify to Niedekker that time was short.

With apparent reluctance, Niedekker signed.

Both contracts safely tucked away, Theodore continued.

“Well, Jack, now that we know each other better, you can show me on a map, the route you took from the jewelry store so my boss, who has excellent high level contacts within the police department, can ensure that the law will not stumble over us during the recovery process.”

“Wait a minute. How do I know your guys won’t gang up on me when I point out the jewels?”

“Your partner, Harvey, will come with you and I, and he will be armed with a handgun to his satisfaction. Fair enough, Jack?”

Niedekker thought about it, then nodded. Using his forefinger, he traced his escape route on the map. Finished, he leaned back, relaxing now that the deal had been struck. Idly, he studied the business card again.

In the background came the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened and a uniformed guard filled the door frame.

“Times up, Gentlemen.”

Niedekker stood up from the grey metal stool bolted to the floor, then stopped.

“There is one more thing I’m slightly curious about here. Your company is Twin Brothers Bail Bonds, but the card only lists one person as the proprietor. What’s the story on that?”

Theodore carefully scratched his double chin.

“Cletis and Daryl Johnston were twins. Daryl was born first, so they nicknamed him ‘Twin’; Cletis was second and therefore named ‘Twin Brother’. Them two were so alike that close relatives had trouble telling them apart. Very competitive boys, even against each other, especially Cletis since he was second, but then they also did everything together, to include starting up the bail bond company."

“So why only one name on the card?”

Theodore mopped his brow again.

“The brothers supposedly had a falling out over how business should be conducted. According to Cletis, Daryl was so mad over the argument that he left town in the middle of the night to start his own bail bond company in another state. After that, Cletis just never bothered to change the company’s name.”

“Oh, so no big thing then?”

Theodore rubbed his left hand over his bald crown, his pinky finger standing straight up.

“No, no, I’m sure not. Allegedly, Daryl was just too angry to bother taking his clothes with him and no one’s heard from him since, but these are subjects I’ve been told not to discuss in the office and I suggest you don’t bring them up in front of Mr. Johnston if you get to meet him. You’ll find he can be a very persuasive man about having his own way.”

A thin trickle of salty drops made their way down Theodore’s back as the guard took Jack Niedekker from the room.


#


Dressed in a tan Shantung silk suit with a shirt in a subtle shade of burnt orange and a black silk tie, Cletis Johnston stood up from behind his mahogany desk as Theodore knocked before entering the proprietor’s private rooms. A green shaded lawyer’s lamp on the desk and strategically placed baby spotlights in the ceiling provided the only light in the richly decorated office.

“I see you have the paintings. He agreed to all our terms?”

Theodore unwrapped a 16”x14” canvas and laid it on the desk, then produced a second similar canvas.

“These don’t look like much to me, Mr. Johnston. Just shows a couple of kids, a boy and a girl. Both of them got that thousand yard stare in their eyes.”

Cletis opened his desk drawer and removed a pair of white cotton gloves, which he then drew over the midnight skin of each of his hands. Upon first meeting Cletis, people remarked that his skin had the look of wet asphalt shining in the headlights of a dark night. They didn’t mind his shaved bald head and long, drooping, silky black mustache. These provided a nice look for an eccentric young businessman in this day and age. But, what did make people immediately uneasy about Cletis were the unexpected oriental features of his long narrow face and his cold black eyes with no surrounding white.

Cletis picked up the matched paintings.

“Theodore, you’re a fraud. For all the airs of sophistication that you try to put on, you will never learn the appreciation of fine art. Here I hold a set of exquisite Pablo Rivera paintings, of which the translation reads, Son of the Revolution and The Anguish of War, yet all you see is a couple of kids with unfocused eyes. I for one can understand the desires of the clandestine collector to place this treasure away from the public. Away, where only an avid collector can gaze on them with the secret pride of ownership.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Theodore extracted the signed contracts from his briefcase and handed them over.

“I also picked up copies of the police reports like you told me and have a map of Niedekker’s escape route. Which do you want first?”

Cletis carefully placed the two paintings on the credenza behind his desk, then the gloves came off.

“Start with the map.”

Theodore spread the city map out on the desk and pointed out the escape route as he related the story.

“Feingold’s is on the corner here. Jack and Harvey came out the front door. Harvey went right and continued until out of sight while Jack ran left down the block and around the corner. He crossed the street in the middle of that block and went down the alley for two more blocks. Then left on this street for a block and a half. That’s where the cops nabbed him.”

Cletis studied the map.

“Roughly about five blocks to be covered. What do the police reports say? Start at the beginning and see if you can just give me the highlights.”

Theodore shuffled through the paperwork until he found the one he wanted.

“The Sergeant that responded to the alarm interviewed the store manager who claimed there were two holdup men wearing red bandanas over the lower part of their face. The two split up when they went out the front door. The manager further related that he ran after the robber that turned to the left from the door, but lost him at the first corner. Allegedly, he did not see the robber throw anything away nor toss any packages of any kind.”

Cletis ran his thumb and forefinger down one side of his mustache.

“That eliminates the first block. Now we’re down to four. Read me the arresting officer’s report.”

“The Corporal that snagged Mr. Niedekker, said he saw Jack coming at a run for about a block. Since the running man matched the description of one of the robbers, the Corporal promptly drove his squad car over the curb and effectively blocked the sidewalk. He then placed Jack against the wall and searched him. Allegedly, there were no jewels, weapons nor bandana upon the suspect’s person. The good Corporal goes on to describe Jack’s clothing as a black baseball cap, J. L. Bean shirt, khaki slacks, white socks, a pair of broken down brown shoes with worn out leather soles and no identification nor valuables in his pockets. He also did not observe Jack to discard anything during his flight.”

“Good. We’ve eliminated another block. Down to three; two in the alley and a half block on either side. Are you certain that our Mr. Lightfoot did not take the jewels away from the store?”

“I got to tell you, Mr. Johnston, Harvey passed the polygraph without any doubt, plus he’s willing to work with us and he had no jewels on him at time of arrest. I for one believe him.”

Cletis stared at Theodore for several heartbeats. Finally, Theodore ducked his head and shuffled the reports, waiting for the next round of questions.

“Since our Mr. Niedekker wisely divested himself of all incriminating evidence, I’m sure the police conducted a thorough search of the area. Read me the follow-up reports. What did they find?”

Theodore cleared his wet throat.

“We have four reports from searchers that covered Jack’s route and one from the jail log. The first patrolman searched the block from the store to the corner just in case the store manager missed something. He also did the block around the corner. He looked in and under parked cars, in doorways and on the roof of each business. Nothing.”

“Continue.”

“Two patrolmen covered the next two blocks to include the alleyways, trashcans, roof and rear doors. They found a 9mm automatic on the rear of a roof in the first block of the alley. It’s currently being checked for fingerprints. In the near vicinity, they attempted to wake up and interview a barefoot wino sleeping in a cardboard box. The wino was barely coherent, but claimed to have seen and heard nothing. However, he objected so strongly to having his cardboard domicile searched that they called the paddy wagon to haul him away.”

“Skip the humor. What else did they find?”

“A rear store window was busted, so they called the owner to come down. Nothing of interest inside. In the next block of the alley, they found several dumpsters that had not yet been emptied by the city sanitation department, therefore they spent several hours dumpster diving. While there were many objects of interest found, none of them appear related to our project.”

“Keep going.”

“Nothing was found on the roof of this block and no broken windows or unlocked doors. The one patrolman does report three pairs of kid’s tennis shoes with the laces tied together and thrown over the high wires in the alley so the shoes just hang there. The type of stuff bigger teenage kids do to weaker ones on the way home from high school.”

“You would know about school bullies, wouldn’t you Theodore?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Never mind. What about the next report?”

“The fourth patrolman searched the block and a half down to where the Corporal had arrested Jack. He found nothing of interest except for an empty parking space with two hours still left on the meter, therefore he theorized that Jack had an accomplice waiting nearby to spirit away the stolen jewels.”

“I see, and what does the jail log tell us?”

“According to the log, Jack received no visitors nor phone calls and placed no outgoing calls until shortly after I talked to him whereupon he asked permission to use the phone. That one particular call went to his girlfriend’s apartment, which I speculate was Jack telling her it was okay to give me the paintings from the vault. Harvey also had neither visitors nor phone call activity. Now what?”

Cletis stroked the other side of his silky mustache and contemplated the dark recesses far up in the ceiling of the executive office. After five minutes of absolute silence with Theodore being afraid to make even the slightest noise, Cletis spoke.

“Now you do nothing for two hours. Then you bond out our Mr. Lightfoot. Be sure that he has a weapon of his choice, one that he feels comfortable with. You and Mr. Lightfoot will then proceed to bond out our Mr. Niedekker, whereupon the three of you go off to recover the jewels. Our usual basic type plan. You know what to do. Any questions?”

“I really hate this part. Do I have to go?”

Cletis turned his unblinking eyes on Theodore.

“We have an arrangement. You do your part and I don’t... Well, let’s just leave that to your imagination, shall we?”


#


Five hours later, Theodore once again knocked on the proprietor’s office door.

“Come in, come in. Sit down. You must tell me every detail. How did it go? Since you are here in one piece, I assume our plan went well.”

Theodore glanced around for a chair. They were all against the distant side walls. Not having ever received the offer to sit in this office before, he was unsure about travelling all the way to the nearest wall and wrestling a heavy upholstered chair across the expensive carpet back to the front of Mr. Johnston’s desk. The legs of the chair would surely leave drag marks against the carpet nap. A trail pointing straight to the guilty party. Theodore elected to stand.

“Well, sir, I waited the two hours like you told me, then I bonded out Harvey Lightfoot. He knew where he could get a handgun, so I drove him to his friend’s house and waited outside. When he came back to the car he had a .357 Magnum, a rather loud weapon as it turns out. The two of us then returned to the jail and I bonded out Jack Niedekker.”

“And was our Mr. Niedekker glad to see you?”

Theodore frowned in recollection.

“Since I was driving, I had Jack sit up front with me. Harvey sat in the back. That way they didn’t have time to plot amongst themselves. Jack was extremely quiet as if he had something on his mind. I actually think that at one point he was considering how to double cross us.”

A low chuckle escaped from the proprietor’s throat.

Theodore was astonished. He’d never heard Mr. Johnston laugh in the ten years that he’d known him. Mr. Johnston was not a man that took pleasure in normal humor.

“That’s rich. Go on, go on.”

“Jack directed me to stop at a hardware store where we obtained an extension ladder and one of those long poles that fruit growers use to trim tree branches. The kind of gardening tool that you pull on a rope and it manipulates pruning shears on the other end of the pole.”

“Very good. I wondered how he would do that.”

“We parked at the entrance to the alley and got out. Jack led the way, I carried the pole and Harvey got stuck with the ladder. By the time we got to the second block of the alley, Harvey had worked up a sweat and wasn’t very happy about the long walk with him carrying all the weight. Jack claimed that he was just making sure we weren’t being followed.”

Cletis interrupted.

“The jewels were in the second block of the alley.”

“That’s what Jack said,” continued Theodore. “Anyway, Jack put the ladder against the wall of one building and had Harvey climb up on the roof. I handed up the pole and Jack told Harvey to cut the tied laces on the first pair of tennis shoes hanging from the power lines. Harvey was afraid that he’d get shocked if the pole touched one of the hot lines, but Jack said he was just being a pansy and called him other names until he made Harvey mad enough to go ahead and cut the pair of shoes down.”

“Tell me about the look on Jack’s face when he got the shoes.”

“Well, Jack caught both shoes when they fell and opened them up, but all that came out was a pair of brand-new, rolled-up gym socks. Jack looked like he’d been smacked in the stomach with a baseball bat.”

“A true Kodak Moment. I should’ve had you take a camera. Continue.”

“Jack hollered for Harvey to cut down the next pair of tennis shoes. Harvey wasn’t happy. He stared at Jack for a long while, then cut down the next pair. Nothing. Nothing in the third pair either. In desperation, Jack looked up to Harvey on the rooftop and swore on his mother’s grave that the jewels had been in the first pair of tennis shoes. That’s when Harvey drew out his .357 Magnum and shot Jack three times in the chest.”

Cletis held out the palm of his hand to stop Theodore’s recitation.

“An untimely end to a brilliant thieving career.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Now finish the story.”

“At that point, cops flooded the area. They came from everywhere. I swear ...”

“And our Mr. Lightfoot?”

“Harvey was trapped on the roof. He tried to make a stand, but only had three bullets left and didn’t have a chance. I swear the cops were everywhere, even hiding in the dumpsters waiting for us.”

“So you see, Theodore, all that time you were covered by police all the way. There was nothing to worry about. I had instructed my friend, the precinct captain, to keep you well protected. For as long as we do a profitable business together, I have no intention of putting you at risk.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. But I do have a question?”

Cletis nodded.

“How did you know where the jewels were?”

“Think about it, Theodore. When one needs to make a quick escape on foot, one does not wear broken down shoes with worn out leather soles. And then there was the barefoot wino in the alley that Jack traveled through.”

“How’d you get the jewels down without cutting the laces?”

“Theodore, you said a question. You try my patience. Perhaps you would like for your right little finger to match your left pinky?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, sir.”

“Very well. Remember to drop by the courthouse tomorrow morning and retrieve the bonds we placed on our last two clients. They won’t be needing them anymore. You may have to show death certificates. And on your way home tonight, take the key ring lying on the secretary’s desk in the outer office and return it to the field supervisor of the Bay Gas and Electric Company. He’ll know where to find his utility truck with the ‘cherry-picker’ as they call it on the back.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Johnston.”

Theodore headed for the door.

“Oh, and Theodore, don’t be late for work tomorrow. There’s a Mr. McGregor that’s been arrested for defrauding hospitalized senior citizens in a multi-million dollar scam. McGregor appears to be the silent owner of a prime piece of land where I hear some Eastern developers are thinking about putting up a shopping mall. I’ve contemplated for some time that I should go into the real estate business. And since I hear that no one else wants to go Mr. McGregor’s bond, I think we should do him. Don’t you?”



THE BOND MARKET


“What we have here is a personal recession!”

Cletis Johnston, proprietor of the Twin Brothers Bail Bonds, slammed the newspaper down on top of the rich mahogany desk in his private office. Without pause, he continued his monologue.

“We need to do something immediately, even if it means taking matters into our own hands.”

Theodore Oscar Alan Dewey, Bail Agent for the company, having no idea why he had been summoned into Cletis’ inner sanctum, flinched as the newspaper smacked on the highly polished wood surface. In all his ten years at the company, Theodore had learned that when the proprietor got this angry, someone was going to pay and pay dearly. Theodore instinctively protected his now permanently rigid left little finger, glistening with the two-carat yellow diamond pinky ring, and hoped it wouldn’t be him again. Therefore, he listened quite carefully to Cletis’ next words.

“We haven’t had a special client in four months now and there’s the reason why.”

Theodore turned the newspaper around so he could read the front page. The headlines blared:

FBI CLAIMS CRIME RATE DOWN


“How can we expect to continue in business if there are fewer high caliber criminals being caught at work. It’s time for us to go proactive. We need to start aggressively recruiting our own clients.”

Theodore felt a mild rash of perspiration breaking out on his pale, balding head. When the proprietor came up with these types of projects, it meant that Theodore’s stomach was always put on alert. At this rate, he’d have to acquire another bottle of anti-acid tablets before lunch. Therefore, it was with some trepidation that he made his inquiry.

“What exactly did you have in mind, sir?”

Cletis smoothed the lapels on his sophisticated charcoal- grey Shantung silk suit, a color several shades lighter than his midnight skin. He then proceeded to brush a stray mote of lint from his shirt in hues of dusky rose, subtly accented by his tie in mother-of-pearl tones, before continuing with the conversation.

“It has come to my attention that a courier of Bearer Bonds for a particular shelf company will be spending the night in our city. I happen to have the name of the hotel and the room number that he will be staying in.”

“Pardon my ignorance, sir, but I’m not familiar with Bearer Bonds.”

Cletis steepled his fingertips in front of his chest in the manner of a lecturing college professor.

“A Bearer Bond is a bond which does not have the owner’s name registered on the books of the issuing company, but which is payable to the holder of the bond.”

Theodore’s bulbous eyes brightened.

“So it operates the same as cash.”

“I wouldn’t recommend using one to purchase a hamburger at your local restaurant, but you do have the basic concept. Now that we’re at it, can you tell me what a shelf company is?”

Theodore’s short stocky body turned fidgety on him. Unsure if there were a penalty for having the wrong answer to the proprietor’s question, he mopped his balding head with a white on white silk handkerchief.

“No sir, but I’d be glad to learn.”

Cletis paused as if considering a matter of great importance to the future. Then, apparently having made up his mind, he proceeded with the necessary information.

“On certain Caribbean islands there are offshore banks, some no larger than a closet, that will, for the right price, sell anyone a complete start-up corporation. Said bank provides the purchaser with a set of incorporation papers, one out of many sets that the bank keeps on a shelf in their closet. Hence the term ‘shelf company’. The purchaser maintains silent ownership of this instant company and since the Board of Directors is made up from relatives of the Caribbean banker, law enforcement agencies back in the States are rarely able to obtain any corporation records. Money flows to the island bank and is laundered back into the U.S. through a series of corporate entities to someone that appears on the surface to be a regular, law-abiding citizen.”

“I see,” said Theodore, not really sure he understood the intricacies of any money laundering scheme. “How does this affect our problem?”

Cletis unsteepled his fingers.

“This particular company, to remain unnamed, currently finds it convenient and necessary for their operation to periodically transfer large monetary assets from one part of the country to another without leaving a paper trail for the IRS to follow. Thus the company sends a courier with the Bearer Bonds from one city to another, as business requires. Only four people are aware of the route and schedule; the sending financial officer, the courier, the bodyguard and the receiving financial officer.”

“Pardon me for saying so, sir, but obviously a fifth person is also aware of this situation.”

“Quite right, Theodore, but he’s dead now.”

“No sir, I was referring to yourself. Who’s the dead guy?”

“The deceased was the former courier for said corporation up until his unexpected demise. It seems that after one of his runs was completed; he had the misfortune to drunkenly accost the young trophy wife of our long-time mayor while dining in one of our better restaurants. He was subsequently arrested for disturbing the peace. Fortunately for us, I had overheard some of his prior conversation about current business with his associate and was intrigued enough to go his bail. In his inebriated state, he gratefully related the full nature of his profession. Tragically, within the hour of getting out on bond, his body collided with a speeding taxicab outside the white lines of a crosswalk.”

“Taxis are a dangerous weapon in this city,” commiserated Theodore.

“One should always stay within the lines,” added Cletis.

“So what do we do now?” asked Theodore.

“I believe we require a thief with the special talents of operating within a hotel environment. Get our burglar files from the outer office. Choose men that you know personally, especially those that have not been apprehended more than once. A repeat offender on the police records tends to be an indication of sloppy work. Something I will not tolerate, as you well know.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Johnston.

Theodore hustled out of the inner sanctum as fast as his short, stocky body would take him. Ten minutes later, he returned with three files in hand and presented them to his boss.

“These are three of the best, sir, Rupert McMurdock, Mario Asario and Sergi Kulanov. I’ve had dealings with all of them.”

Cletis took time to peruse the files while Theodore remained standing. Apparently satisfied with what he read, Cletis closed the file folders and stroked his long black silky mustache as he appeared to consider his options.

“Theodore, I want you to approach these men and find one that is interested in doing this job.”

“What do you want me to tell them?”

“Explain that how they do the job is up to them. They know what methods work best for their abilities.”

“What details can I provide?”

“Tell them that a courier and his bodyguard will arrive at the Monteleon Hotel tonight at eight o’clock. The Monteleon, for your edification, Theodore, is one of the few grand, old-time hotels still remaining in our Bay City area. Fortunately for our purposes, the hotel owner’s Old World concept of management has resisted the technological changeover from key locks to electronic card locks on their doors. Here’s the number for the hotel suite that the corporation reserves for their courier. It’s the same suite of rooms every Thursday for every trip.”

Cletis shoved a typed note across the desk before continuing.

“The target corporation operates under the policy that one man by himself should not attract undue attention, therefore the armed bodyguard stays several steps behind the courier during travel and will be lodged for the night in the hotel room directly across the hall from the courier. Normally, the courier leaves the briefcase containing the Bearer Bonds in his room while he goes down to the restaurant for supper. During this time, the bodyguard keeps an eye on the front door of the suite. When the courier comes back, the bodyguard goes to eat. The next morning, the bonds are delivered to the receiving corporation. Our burglar can choose his own time and place for the theft. Any questions?”

“Yes, sir. What does our man do with the bonds after he obtains the briefcase?”

“Make arrangements for our pet thief to meet with you the very same night and hand over the bonds.”

“And what shall I say he stands to receive as remuneration for his labors?”

Cletis cocked one eyebrow and stared straight into Theodore’s lumpy face.

“Remuneration is rather a large word for you, Theodore. You must be practicing your word of the week again.”

Theodore opened his mouth to reply, closed it, then opened it again before finally opting for the wiser decision of silence. He ducked his head.

After a couple of minutes, Cletis continued the conversation.

“Back to business. Face value for the bonds should be in the neighborhood of eight hundred thousand dollars. I shall assume the thief is intelligent enough to do simple math, so imply that we will pay him fifty percent of whatever we sell the bonds for. Subsequent circumstances will not require that we pay him anything, but he doesn’t need to know that, therefore you may negotiate any deal he wants. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Theodore lowered his head even further and nodded before leaving the room.


#


Early the next morning, Theodore was once again summoned into the private executive office of the proprietor. Cletis left Theodore standing uncomfortably on the expensive oriental carpet for several silent minutes before condescending to notice his presence. Finally, he slid the morning newspaper across the desk.

“I see there was a small problem.”

Theodore glanced at the headlines:


MAN MURDERED IN HOTEL ROOM


“I assume, Theodore, that you received the bonds from the burglar that you personally picked out to do the job?”

“Whoa, no sir. I mean, I waited in the hotel bar for him to make delivery, but he never showed.”

“I expect not, but weren’t you maybe a little bit curious enough to have checked on the location of his presence? Perhaps even given me a call about the situation?”

“It’s like this, Mr. Johnston, when the police showed up in force, I didn’t think it would be conducive for a member of our bonding company to be on the scene of whatever police action was going on. So, I gave him a few more minutes, then left by the side door. We’ve had no contact since. Sorry I didn’t call you at the time. I had no wish to disturb you that late at night and thought it would wait until this morning.”

Cletis contemplated the situation.

“Very well then, since it turns out that the police did make arrests in the hotel, give me our burglar’s name and we’ll see about bonding him out. With special conditions, of course.”

Theodore ducked his head, wishing he were a million miles away.

“I don’t know his name, sir.”

The oriental features of Cletis’ eyes narrowed even more than normal.

“What do you mean you don’t know his name? You picked him.”

“Yes sir, but I knew you wanted the deal to go, so I made the offer to all three men individually. That way, I figured one of them would take the job and whoever did would bring the bonds back to me. Under the present circumstances, I would hazard a guess that whichever of the three got arrested is the one we need to deal with.”

In the ensuing silence, Theodore could hear the soft chugging of the coffeepot in the outer office. His heartbeat, pounding in his ears, raced through his temples in a rapid crescendo until Cletis broke the morgue room stillness. Theodore strained to hear the low spoken words.

“According to the newspaper, the police arrested three men in white room service jackets as the possible murder suspects. I believe you’ll find all three of your burglar’s names listed in the right hand column as being apprehended in the hotel.”

“Sorry, Mr. Johnston, I didn’t know that. What can I do to make it right?”

“I am very aware of your ignorance, Theodore. Fortunately, I had my friend, the precinct captain, send over copies of the investigative reports early this morning in hopes that maybe we could make some sense out of this mess. Get the large manila envelope off the secretary’s desk, bring it here and extract the necessary paperwork.”

When Theodore had returned, Cletis gave him his next orders.

“Paraphrase the reports for me. All I want is the important details. Start with the bodyguard’s statement.”

Theodore shuffled the papers until he found the one he wanted.

“Sir, the bodyguard stated that their airplane was delayed due to air conditioning problems before and during the flight, thus they arrived at the hotel a sweaty half hour later than usual last night. The courier decided to take a shower before supper, so the bodyguard waited across the hall. At one point, the bodyguard thought he heard the telephone ringing in the courier’s room, but the guy must’ve already been in the shower and ignored it. Five minutes later, the guard heard a noise and went to look out the security peephole in his door. Room service was standing in front of the courier’s door. The guard, who was hungry, thought great, that meant he could go to supper sooner.”

“What did he say about the actions of the room service waiter?”

“The guard said the courier’s door came open, then stopped as if the security chain was in place. The door partly closed for several seconds then came all the way open like the chain had been removed, so the waiter rolled the service cart into the room and the door shut. Less than ten minutes later, the door opened, the waiter came out and stood in front of the now almost closed door as if talking to someone inside the room, then the door closed and the waiter rolled away the service cart.”

“Did the guard see the waiter’s face?”

“No, the waiter had his head down as he rolled the cart out of the room.”

“What happened next?”

“The guard’s stomach was rumbling, so he decided to telephone the courier and see how long it would take him to finish eating. When the call wasn’t answered, the guard became worried, crossed the hall and knocked on the door. Nothing. He tried the door and found it was locked, so he telephoned for hotel security.”

“What did hotel security say about the situation?”

Theodore searched for the correct report and placed it on top of the other paperwork.

“The courier’s room is on the nineteenth floor, which is the top floor of the Monteleon Hotel. One security officer just happened to be checking out the stairwell of the floor below, so he ran up the stairs and into the hallway. Since the courier’s room is nearest the stairwell, the officer didn’t have far to go. Unlocking the door with a master key, the security officer saw the chain was in place. He and the bodyguard then forced the door, breaking the chain mechanism and entered the room. They found the courier lying on the floor with his head bashed in. A loaded pistol was on the bed and an empty briefcase was on the nightstand. When the bodyguard happened to mention the room service waiter, the security officer radioed his men to detain everyone in a white room service jacket. They also telephoned the police who responded immediately.”

“I think I see where this is going. Now read the report of the Sergeant taking charge of the crime scene.”

Theodore rustled through the paper.

“It appears that the courier had just come out of the shower. His hair was wet and he was wearing a bathrobe. Someone had evidently crushed his skull with a brass lamp stand as best they could tell. The Sergeant was puzzled by several facts. One, the hotel windows are not the kind that open, which is a moot point since there is no fire escape outside the window. Two, there are no adjoining doors to this room. And, three, the only door into the hall was locked and still had the security chain in place when the door had to be forced from the outside. Yet, somehow the man had been mysteriously killed while alone inside the locked room.”

Cletis nodded his dark, shaved-bald head in appreciation.

“I have no doubt the Homicide dicks will soon figure that one out, but they may need some help from the Vice Squad.”

“How do you mean?”

“Not yet, Theodore, I’m concentrating. Now tell me about the arrest of your three pet burglars.”

Theodore mentally shrugged, then sought out the necessary facts.

“Hotel security quickly determined that it had three extra men dressed in white, room-service uniforms, but none of these three were employed by the hotel. Each of the extras was wearing white cotton gloves. The first one, Rupert, was detained in the kitchen where he was in possession of one of their room service carts. Later, Mario was found with a cart in the elevator used by the hotel guests. And Sergi was located in the service elevator, also with a cart. Hotel security had thrown the circuit breakers for power to all elevators, which froze them in place until they could be searched. That’s how they got Mario and Sergi.”

“Were the elevators going up or down? That would tell us something about those two.”

“Sorry, sir, when the power was turned off, it became impossible to tell which direction the elevators were headed.”

“I see. Well then, what objects were on the men when they were searched?”

“None of them carried any identification and none of them had the bonds in their possession. Mario had only a twenty-dollar bill and some coins in his pockets. Rupert and Sergi each had a small amount of money, a set of master keys that fit the doors of several local hotels, plus a wide strip of metal about two foot in length.”

“Describe this metal strip.”

“Well, sir, each strip had tape on one end for a handle, had a couple of bends in the middle and a series of cutouts in the other end. Rupert and Sergi said the metal strips were kitchen tools the chef uses for removing lids from hot pans, so the cops left the strips laying on the kitchen counter.”

Showing no outward emotion, Cletis nodded his head again.

“I assume all the carts were searched?”

“Right.”

“And the entire kitchen area where Rupert was apprehended?”

“Nothing there.”

“The elevators?”

“Clean. They even checked out the trap door in the ceiling and the top of the elevator. There were no other passengers with these two men when they were arrested.”

“Okay, take me back up to the corridor on the nineteenth floor. Give me the facts on that search.”

More paperwork was shuffled. Theodore’s throat was dry and he wished he had a drink. Nothing so simple as coffee or water, he wanted something with lots of alcohol and ice in it. His voice got drier.

“The dead man’s room was gone over in great detail by the lab technicians. Nothing new there.”

“I suspect not. Go on.”

“Four cops, working in pairs, searched the rest of the nineteenth floor. It’d been a slow night at the front desk, so none of the other rooms had been rented out on the nineteenth floor, but each room was opened anyway and thoroughly looked through. Zero.”

Cletis pondered the possibilities of this information.

“Still, you must admit that was a good move on the part of the police, since our killer was obviously a magician, a lock pick or had a set of master keys to all the rooms. Now tell me about the layout of the hallway.”

“There’s not much left to tell here, sir.”

“Details, Theodore, details. I don’t think we’ve missed anything important so far, but the answers to some of our questions may well be in the insignificant parts of those reports.”

“Yes, Mr. Johnston. Well, the corridor has the stairwell and death room at one end, with the guest and service elevators being located in the middle of the hall. There’s a combination trash and cigarette ash container toward each end of the hall, plus three large potted plants spread out along the carpet, no artwork on the walls and a solid ceiling high enough up that it would require a tall ladder to reach the light fixtures.”

“Go with the ashtray stand in the direction of the stairway.”

Theodore used his hands to physically describe the appearance of the stands as he spoke.

“They’re circular and about three feet high. The top is a chromed pan that holds sand and cigarette butts. There’s a twelve-inch opening in the upper side of the stand through which people can dispose of their trash. Lift off the chrome top and there’s a plastic liner inside the container to make it easier and more sanitary to empty the contents. At the first stand, which is located closest to the courier’s room, there were only two pieces of crumpled paper inside the liner, so that team of cops fished them out and read them. Nothing related to our situation.”

“Okay, I assume the potted plants are next in line?”

Theodore shrugged his shoulders.

“Two of the potted plants were some kind of bushy green fern, while the third had large broad leaves like green elephant ears. One of the cops noticed a small pile of dirt next to one of the pots, so the searchers pulled all the plants out and looked inside and under the pots. Made a real mess on the carpet. The maid had evidently left a vacuum cleaner in the hall near one of the pots, probably to clean up the small pile of dirt they saw in the beginning. She’ll really need the vacuum now.”

“Did they search the vacuum cleaner?”

“Yeah, one of the teams finally thought of that. All it did was make the mess worse. They didn’t find anything.”

“And the ashtray stand toward the other end of the hall?”

“The inside of the second stand was full of paper, plastic bottles, pop cans and discarded chewing gum, so that team of searchers pulled out the plastic liner and dumped the contents on the carpet. It was just plain old garbage. Also, just so you know, one team of cops looked under the first stand, while the second team checked underneath the other stand, in case there was a hollow spot on the bottom side of the cylinder. Nothing. We still don’t know where the bonds are nor who killed the courier.”


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