I went to my bedroom and got dressed. I put on some warm, comfortable clothing. It was mid- morning by this time. It was a pretty long drive to Terry’s house in Finneytown. I knew a pretty good restaurant that was on the way where I could grab some lunch. I had the salad and soup bar. The warm soup felt good in my stomach. I managed to arrive at Terry’s house a little after 1:00 PM. I said: “Okay, where’s the dummy?” Terry said: “She went out to lunch with some friends.” He started to laugh. Then he said, “Oh, Elvis. He’s over here in the den.” Terry led me to the den. No wonder this thing was freaking his wife out. It was sitting in a chair, and it looked a lot like a human being at first glance. Somebody had fitted the crash- test dummy with a pretty realistic looking Elvis wig, replete with fuzzy sideburns. It was also wearing a cheesy looking sequined jumpsuit. You could barely see the impact targets on the sides of his head peering out from beneath the fuzzy sideburns. “That is kinda creepy, Terry. I don’t blame Trish for not wanting it around.” I said. “I know, Hitch” responded Terry. “Thanks for taking it off my hands. Let me help you get it into the car.” We wrestled crash- test dummy Elvis into the passenger seat of my car. I was hoping I wouldn’t get into an actual crash to test him out. I was going to deposit this twisted representation of the former rock star into the first available dumpster. I had a few details to take care of first. I drove back to my house. I left crash- test dummy Elvis in the passenger seat for the time being. I just didn’t have time to deal with him right now. I grabbed the towels from the back seat I had used on the stake out last night. I left the comforter there in case I might need it tonight. I headed into my apartment and put on a pot of coffee. I had a hunch that it was going to be a long night. While the coffee brewed, I went to my closet and grabbed the high- powered binoculars in the nylon bag. I dropped those on the bed and went back to digging through my closet. I had purchased a Glock 21 when I first became a private investigator. I had a permit to carry a gun, and I had on the first couple of cases. I buried it in the closet when I realized that I didn’t really need it. It wasn’t helping me anyway. Nothing makes a person clam up like some guy wearing a gun walking up and asking questions. I had to remove about a dozen boxes of useless spy stuff from my closet before I found it. It was in a box along with the leather holster and a nylon belt. I removed the gun from the holster and pulled the clip. It was fully loaded and ready to go. I dropped it on the bed next to the binoculars. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at my desk. After staring at the blank screen on my computer screen and sipping coffee for a couple of minutes, I picked up the phone and dialed Grildpork’s mobile phone. He picked up after a couple of rings and said: “What is it now, Brown?” “Hi, Grild. It’s nice to talk to you, too” I said. “I’m guessing you’ve heard from Corsican by now.” “I have” he replied. “Thanks for having him provide an agent at the museum. I still have to provide transportation for your guy. My staff is already stretched pretty thin. I had to enlist a young file clerk to go collect Corsican. The guys in the motor pool had him produce his driver’s license to verify that he was even old enough to drive.” I started laughing. Grildpork said: “I’m glad you find this amusing, Brown. I’m pretty sure Klingswander is gonna show up tonight with some serious heat. I’ve enlisted every available officer to be on hand tonight and I plan on sending them home in one piece.”
Posted on: Sat, 05 Oct 2013 02:57:07 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015