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Authors: Bill WENHAM

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BOOK: HIGHWAY HOMICIDE
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Chapter Twenty Eight

 

Once, while a student at UVM, his Scottish professor had referred to him as the ‘Calendar Guy’.

“You think I’m good looking enough for a Playgirl calendar then, do you, sir?” he had laughed.

“Not at all laddie, so don’t you go kidding yourself. If they ever have a category for mongrels, then the Westminster Kennel Club might be interested in you maybe. But, no, I was just referring to your name.”

“My name?” he echoed. “What’s my name got to do with a calendar, or vice versa?”

The professor explained what his reference had meant,

“Oh, right,” the student said, “The Holy Grail and all that kind of old stuff.”

The professor laughed.

“Right part of the world, lad. Wrong band of ruffians and it’s just as well for you that I’m attempting to drum Physics into you. If I’d been teaching History or Mythology, I’d have failed you on the spot for that comment.”

Because the professor’s remarks about his name had been made in class, the ‘Calendar Guy’ took a lot of playful ribbing about it. Especially about his own dumb comment.

Until the professor had pointed it out though, he’d never thought of it like that before. It probably had no bearing on the origin of his name either. It was probably just coincidence the letters were arranged like that.

Up until that day many of his fellow students called him by his full name, some shortened it and others now started to call him ‘Cal’, short for ‘Calendar Guy’. Some of the better looking girls, particularly Maria Caspar, didn’t call him at all, which made him fairly seethe with anger.

 

It was now several years later as ‘
Cal’ sat in a jeep and watched Ellis Perrin park his battered pickup outside O’Shaunessy’s Pub. This was now the third day in a row he’d observed Perrin’s actions. Each day he did the same thing at pretty much the same time. Very much a creature of habit was Mr. Perrin.

Each time he’d parked, he’
d just slammed the door beside him and walked on into the Pub. But so far he’d never bothered to lock it! And once he was inside the Pub, he stayed in there for several hours.

The man known by some as
Cal looked over at the pair of rifles sitting clearly in view on a rack in the pickup’s rear window.

He started up his Jeep, moved up the road and swung it into the vacant spot behind the pickup. Then he got out, walked around to the front of the Jeep and on to the sidewalk in front of the Pub. He paused for a moment, leaning casually on the hood of the Jeep.

He waited for a moment until two people, a man and a woman who were on the same side of the street, went into a store. As they disappeared from view, he went forward and as unobtrusively as he could, he tried the handle of the pickup’s rear passenger side door. He breathed a sigh of relief as it cracked open.

He looked around to make sur
e no one else was in sight and then quickly opened the door wide enough to reach inside. Breathing heavily, he reached up and grabbed a rifle, the bottom one, off the rack and then he backed out of the truck again. As he was leaving, he glanced down and saw two boxes of ammunition on the floor.

He took the rifle and carrying it as hidden as he could beside his leg, he walked quickly back to his Jeep. He opened the rear passenger door and laid the rifle carefully on the back seat.

But a rifle was just a useless piece of junk metal without the bullets to go with it. He’d only completed half of his task and he needed to go back again. His heart was pounding crazily as he closed the Jeep’s door. After a moment or two to settle his nerves, he repeated the maneuver, but this time he returned with one of the ammunition boxes.

Just as he’
d gotten back into the Jeep and had slid over into the driver’s seat, a man came out of O’Shaunessy’s. The Jeep’s driver thought he was going to have a heart attack as he turned his head away, pretending to be looking across the street. But it hadn’t been the pickup’s driver. The man turned right and went away from him, to where his car was parked further down the street.

As soon as he was gone, ‘
Cal’ checked the street again quickly, and seeing no one else, he started up his vehicle and drove away.

However, in the appliance store across the street, David Gates was rather intrigued by what he thought was the rather odd behavior of the Jeep’s driver. David could h
ave sworn the man was stealing something from the pickup parked in front of his vehicle, or perhaps he was just merely putting something into it. David thought it was even odder when the man did it again.

Also, when another man had come out of the Pub in front of him, the driver had turned his head away, as though he didn’t want to be recognized. By doing so, he had looked directly at David.

For a moment, as their eyes met, David thought the man looked familiar to him but he couldn’t place him. The man appeared to look shocked but the next minute he and his vehicle had driven off. David wasn’t being paid to gaze out of the windows and he thought no more about it until later that evening.

About a half an hour after the vehicle had driven away, Judy got a very angry call from Ellis Perrin. Ellis told her that some lousy bastard had just stolen one of his rifles. The insurance adjuster hadn’t even been out to look at them yet either, Ellis complained bitterly. First, that stupid old woman had plowed into the back of him. And now someone had stolen one of his goddamned rifles before he could even get the insurance company to pay out on it. Ellis Perrin was not a happy man!

Chapter Twenty Nine

 

“Hi, Jude, Erica, David,” Carl said. “How are things going with you guys today?”

“We’re fine and your timing is perfect as usual. Pull up a chair. I’m just dishing up dinner, as if you didn’t know.” Judy said.

Dinner today was a huge steak and mushroom pie, with potatoes and mixed vegetables. Erica brought in the pie and set it down as Judy followed her in and fussed around the table with rest of the meal.

Carl noted, with a grin, that a place had already been set for him at the table. He really must do something special for Jude one of these days, he thought, for all of her hospitality. In
the beginning he’d insulted her badly by offering to pay for the meals.

“If I had wanted my guests to
pay me, Carl Berger, I would’ve put a bloody great big sign over my front door saying ‘Restaurant’,” she’d told him huffily, “and another one right underneath it saying ‘No goddamned cops allowed inside.”

Carl had never offered to pay
again, but now and then he’d buy her a little gift, flowers for her desk or take her out to Lisa’s for dinner. Fortunately both ladies appreciated each other’s cooking.

“How are you getting along with my list, Carl?” David asked him.

“I was able to cross Hugh Larkin off it today. Apparently he’s in Germany, has been for several years now. He’s with the Mercedes-Benz Group over there. He comes back here from time to time but he hasn’t been back to the U.S. this year at all. Another one, Rick Shelbourne, is in a wheelchair as a result of a motorcycle accident and is unlikely to have been our perp. More than unlikely, Dave, bloody near impossible, I’d say.”

“You know
something, Carl; I thought I saw someone familiar today, someone from the old days. It wasn’t his face that made me notice him, though, so much as what he was doing.”

“And what was that?” Erica asked.

“Well, I’m not sure really, Erica. He could have either been putting something into someone’s pickup or taking something out of it. I couldn’t see which it was from across the street but he was sure as hell furtive about it.”

“Where was this pickup then, Dave?” Carl asked him.

“Outside O’Shaunessy’s Pub, the place where we went the other night,” David answered.


O’Shaunessy’s!”
Judy exclaimed. “That’s where someone stole something out of Ellis Perrin’s truck today.”

“What was stolen, J
ude?” Carl asked, although he’d already guessed what her answer would be.

“Ellis said
someone stole one of his rifles. Everyone knows he keeps a pair of them in plain sight on a rack in the back of his truck. To use Ellis’s exact words, he said ‘the lousy bastard stole my ammo as well.”

Carl, David and Erica all turned to look at her.

“Christ, Jude, it sounds like we’re about to get even more trouble in town. I’ll get over to see Ellis in the morning. I’ll probably catch him at the Pub.” Carl said. “I hope he’ll start to lock his truck up now before he loses the other one. God knows, I’ve told him often enough about it.”

“You think
it’s the same guy then, Carl, the same one that killed…” Erica choked up and couldn’t continue,

Carl nodded.

“I’m afraid so, Erica. I think he’s got some more unfinished business of some kind in our town. Something he needs a gun to attend to. And, let’s face it, guys; nobody steals a rifle unless he intends to use it, does he? I’m just wondering who he plans to use it on.”

“We don’t know why he killed Forrest Appleyard either, do we?” Judy said.

Carl shook his head.

“And the two murders don’t appear to have any connection at all to each other, apart from those thumb prints. One victim from
Rutland,” he said, looking apologetically at Erica, “and one from right here. I just can’t help wondering who his next target is.”

Erica said. “You don’t need to pussyfoot around and watch what you say around me, Carl, although I appreciate your concern. My sister was murdered. I know that and I’ve accepted it. I may bawl my eyes out from time to tim
e but you don’t need to baby me. I’ll survive. Unless I’m the next target for some reason, that is.”

Her words shocked them into silence as Judy served up the dinner, but the recent conversation had taken the edge off their appetites.

To break the tension, Carl suddenly asked. “Did you get the license number of the Jeep the guy was driving, Dave?”

“No
, I’m sorry. I just thought it was unusual behavior, enough to make me look. But not enough for me to take down any details. I’m sorry, but I just didn’t realize at the time it might be important. I’m really sorry, Carl.”

“No matter. But how about a description of it. Was it old, new, clean, dirty and how about the color of it? Did you notice any damage on it that could help us to identify it?”

“The only thing I can help you there with, Carl, was that it looked fairly new and it was, um, like a brownish, grayish color, I think. Not really brown, but not gray either.”

“Would you know it again if you saw it, do you think?”

David shrugged.

“Maybe, but remember, I was looking at the guy and what he was doing, more than at the Jeep.”

“Would you recognize him again then?” Carl asked.

“Again, Carl, may
be. I’m sorry I’m not being much help to you here, but most of the time he had either his back to me or he was sideways on. I only got one very quick glimpse of his face.”

“And you said
you recognized him?”

“No. I just said
his face looked familiar, I thought, that’s all”

Carl looked glum and lapsed into silence again.

“I sure as hell hope you catch this guy soon. He’s completely ruining my dinners, for Christ’s sake. I’ll kill him myself if I catch him.” Judy complained. “Anyway, eat up, you guys. There’s still desert to come yet.”

She thought
the mere mention of desert, Carl’s favorite part of a meal, would brighten him up a bit, but today he was deeply preoccupied with his own thoughts.

A few moments ago he’
d wondered aloud who he thought the next victim would be. Now he no longer had to wonder. He was absolutely certain who it would be.

 

As ‘Cal’ drove away in the Jeep, his mind was in a whirl of mixed thoughts and feelings, with adrenaline pumping through him.

He’
d achieved his initial goal and fairly easily too. On the back seat of the Jeep he had a rifle, and on the seat beside it, he also had the ammunition for it. But the main cause for his excitement was he’d found his target just as easily. He was possibly just hours away now from his payoff.

He was astounded when he’
d turned his head away as the guy had left the pub. Directly across the street and looking right at him was the man he was seeking.

David Gates!

But, as he drove away he was puzzled.

Gates didn’t appear to be
shopping
in the store. He wasn’t wearing a heavy winter coat, as he would have been if he’d just walked into the store from outside. He was in shirt sleeves, for God’s sake. Was it possible he was
working
there? It was highly unlikely but why else would he be dressed like that?

At least he knew now that Gates was in Cooper’s Corners. Even if he
wasn’t working in the store, it would be easy enough to track him down. But if he’d recognized Gates that easily, it was possible Gates had also recognized him. The main difference was he, Cal, was actively looking for Gates, not the other way around.

Well, he thought with satisfaction, I know where he is and I have the means to kill him. All I need now i
s the right opportunity and it’ll be all over!

He thought briefly of going back on foot to verify, if he could, that Gates was indeed working there. If he
was, it would make his task much easier. If he wasn’t, there’d be the chance, a very strong chance, he might lose him.

After careful
consideration, he decided the safest way would be to do a drive by of the store on the following day. If Gates was in there then, he knew he had him nailed. He was sweating badly now and he’d started to tremble. He had to get this job done and it had to be done soon. He wasn’t sure he could last until tomorrow like this.

He shook his a
ching head and told himself he had to last. He still had enough to keep him going but he knew it wouldn’t last much longer. The longer Gates remained alive, the worse it was going to be for himself. Stay calm, stay cool, he told himself. He was sweating like a pig now and he was telling himself to stay cool. That was a laugh. Who was he kidding?

He made a decision, come hell or high water, David Gates would die tomorrow. He had to.

BOOK: HIGHWAY HOMICIDE
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