Under Abnormal Conditions (4 page)

It was a typical Monday evening. Plenty of
people spending money they didn’t have. At that rate, we would
definitely make our needed sales for the day.

“Michael pick up on line one please,” I heard
Mona yell.

I could feel my head start to ache as I
searched for the nearest telephone. If it was Ester I was going to,
. . . do nothing. I walked back to the office and closed the door.
If we were going to fight, I didn’t want anyone else to hear it. I
sat down took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.

“This is Michael. How may I help you?”

“You didn’t heed my first warning,” the grim
voice said. It was the same caller from before.

“Can I help you, sir?” I asked.

“Help me? Help me? Help yourself. I know you
don’t believe. No one else did either. Phil didn’t believe.”

“Sir, if this is about what happened earlier,
the young lady didn’t want to be bothered.

“Bothered? Bothered? Now you see me as a mere
bother but the day of reckoning is at hand. Everything he holds
dear will perish in flames. At ten o’clock the recompense of the
wicked will be justice. Do not suffer for the wicked one. Ten
o’clock is the time. In a flash of fire and flames, the evil will
be put away while the wicked one sleeps.” – click

In the bar business, you ran into crazies
everyday. Normally it’s just a drunken idiot, but that call was
different. There was disdain and hatred in his voice that flowed
right through the phone. He sounded like he might actually try
something.

I was responsible for everyone there and I
couldn’t take the chance if it was a real threat. I flipped through
the phone book and found the number for the police department.
After three rings, someone answered.

“Dunham Heights Police Department. How may I
direct your call?” a female voice asked.

“I’m calling from Club Cool Breeze. We just
received a bomb threat, and-”

“I’ll transfer you to Arson Division.” – beep
–

While I was on hold, I flipped through the
morning paper. A twelve year old was gunned down as he walked home
from school the day before. I was ready to forget the whole thing
when someone finally picked up.

“Detective Antonio here.”

“Yes, detective. My name is Michael Drake.
I’m calling from Club Cool Breeze over on the corner on Summer
Street. We just received a bomb threat.”

“Was the person in there or did they leave a
note?” he asked first.

“It was a phone call.”

“Tell me about it. What did the person
say?”

“He quoted the Bible and said the owner was
going to pay for what he had done.”

“Was the threat towards you or the club?”

“Both I guess. He said at ten o’clock it
would be over in a flash of fire and flames.”

“Can you tell me anything about the caller’s
voice?” he droned as if I was keeping him away from a hot batch of
freshly glazed donuts.

“It was a man’s voice, but it was sort of
muffled. That’s all I can really tell you.” I wished I had paid
better attention to it, but everything had happened so fast.

“Did you notice any accents or speech
impediments?” he asked.

“No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Did he sound calm, excited, or drunk
maybe?”

“He was calm at first, quoting from the
Bible. The second time”

“He’s called before?” he interrupted.

“Yes, earlier today . . . and I think it was
a guy I threw out earlier.” I answered.

“Was it the same guy?” he asked.

“I think so. He was harassing a young lady
and-”

“If he calls back, listen for background
noise, ask him the location of the bomb, just keep him on the line
as long as you can and try to record the conversation.”

“Is that it?” I asked.

“Yes. We will send out a unit right now, but
if you hear anything in the meantime, call me back.”

“Thank you,” I said as he hung up the phone.
He may not have taken the threat seriously, but I did. I had to
clear the club, but I couldn’t say it was because of a bomb. I had
to find a way to get everyone out without causing a panic.

Then there was a knock at the office door. I
got up from the desk and answered it.

“I’m Bill Johnson from Atom Electronics. I
just got finished installing those security cameras in the back
parking lot. I got my bill here.”

“OK, just go upstairs and to the door on the
left.” I said, directing him to Sherry’s office. “She’ll pay you
there.”

I sat back down at the desk and the thought
hit me. Bill Johnson gave me the perfect idea.

I walked out front and instead of being on
the stage playing, Dexter was at the bar talking to Carmen. That
stung a little, but it gave me the opportunity to take stage
without causing too much of a fuss.

I tapped the mic a few times to test it and
then I said, “Attention employees and customers. We are
experiencing a minor electrical problem. It’s nothing to worry
about, but we need to clear the building. We will open at our
regular time tomorrow and we are sorry for the inconvenience.”

I gave everyone a few minutes to get outside.
I made a run-through of the entire club to make sure it was empty.
I only ran into a few stragglers. Once I explained the situation
again, they politely made their way to the exits. When we finally
got all of the customers out, I addressed the employees.

They were less than enthused.

“I’m leaving!” Joey shouted.

“Why we still here, man. Let us go home.”
Dexter said as he began packing up his saxophone.

“I’ve got a family!” Mona chimed in from
behind.

“I’m not asking anyone to stay,” I assured
them. “I’m just letting you know the situation. You are all free to
go. I don’t think there is anything to worry about.” I blatantly
lied. “But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

I excused everyone to get his or her
belongings and to meet at the front of the club in five minutes.
The bomb was scheduled to go off at ten o’clock, thus we had just
under an hour to evacuate. I couldn’t take a chance on a maniac
having a cheap watch, so I hurried them along as fast as I
could.

Within about ten minutes, I was alone. I
closed down the cash register and headed for my office. I made sure
the back doors were locked.

The cash office was upstairs right next to
Phil’s office, so I would grab my coat and lock the door before I
left. I went to pick up the package that was left for me, but it
was gone. Before that could alarm me, something else caught my
attention.

I could smell smoke. I turned around and I
could see smoke coming from upstairs. Smoke was coming from
everywhere and in a matter of seconds, all I could see was smoke.
My eyes began to well with tears. I was totally disoriented. Trying
to find something to hold on to was practically impossible. I had
to get out. I was blind from the smoke. My lungs started to fill
and I began to cough. Through my watery eyes, all I could see was
the gray smoke engulfing me.

That was the last thing I remembered.

Chapter 5

When I woke up, there were two paramedics
standing over me. They sat me up and began asking me questions. I
wanted to know what was going on, and they were asking me
questions.

“Do you know what day it is?” one of them
asked.

“Do you know where you are?” asked the
other.

“Yes, I’m fine. Can somebody tell me what’s
going on?” I asked as I tried to stand. I easily made it to my
feet, but when I tried to walk, I almost fell on my face. Luckily,
the paramedics were right there to catch me.

“Just have a seat right here. Don’t try to
move. You’ve got a pretty nasty bump on your head,” said the
slightly balding pudgy paramedic with a stethoscope around his
neck.

My head was throbbing. I placed my left hand
behind me to hold myself up and with my right I felt the huge bump
on the back of my head.

What had happened, and why wasn’t anybody
telling me anything?

A third paramedic walked into the office and
whispered something to the tall blond paramedic who was helping me
keep my balance. Through the open door, I could see scores of
policemen. I could hear cries coming from the lounge. The third man
left after a few nods and whispers. I couldn’t have imagined what
had happened.

“What’s going on, guys?” I asked again.

They exchanged blank stares silently
questioning who had the responsibility of explaining the situation
to me. Finally one of them answered, “I think the police should
tell you.”

My head throbbed even more as I tried to
figure out what was going on and why wasn’t anyone telling me
anything. They hastily gathered their equipment, helped me up and
into Phil’s chair, and left me alone in the office.

Through the office door window, I saw the two
paramedics that had been helping me, talking to an officer. The
short pudgy-faced officer broke from them and walked towards the
office.

“You Michael Drake?” he asked as he walked
in.

“Yes, officer. What’s going on here?”

He looked me up and down for a second and
answered, “I’m Officer Green. Can you tell me anything about what
happened tonight?”

“The last thing I remember I was walking in
here to get my coat. After that, everything is a blur until a few
minutes ago.”

“There was a robbery.”

“A robbery?” I asked.

“Yes sir, a robbery. I need to ask you a few
questions. Are you up to it?”

I knew I couldn’t say no even though I felt
like my head was about to explode. I felt like I had been run over
by a three hundred pound linebacker. “Yeah, go ahead,” I
answered.

“You received a bomb threat earlier this
evening. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“What time was that?”

“I think it was around seven or eight
o’clock.” Just as I answered Phil quietly walked into the
office.

“How soon afterwards did you call the
police?”

“Immediately, I -”

“He should have called me,” Phil
interrupted.

“Look, I did what I thought was right!” I
shouted.

“No! You didn’t think. You never do. You make
guesses. If you had followed procedure, none of this would have
happened!” he yelled back. He seemed to be overly emotional over
the loss of a little cash.

Typical.

“Mr. Reighton, can I have a word with you
outside?” the officer asked. “Mr. Drake, just wait right here and
I’ll be back directly,” he said as he escorted Phil out of the
office.

I watched them from the small office window.
I had never seen Phil so irate. I had seen him lose his temper, but
that was different. He was visibly shaken, crying, yelling and
almost inconsolable. The officer grabbed his arm and tried to
finish talking to him, but Phil jerked away and continued to yell
as he pointed in my general direction.

The door to the cash office opened and out
came a slender white man with a pencil thin mustache and glasses.
He was taking off what looked like doctor’s gloves. I assumed he
was looking for fingerprints. I wouldn’t have even noticed him
except that he walked over and started talking to Officer
Green.

The officer said something else to Phil and
walked into the office with the slender man. Phil glanced my way
and walked into the break room. They probably thought I had
something to do with it, and with my financial situation I couldn’t
have blamed them.

After a few minutes, a tall black man in a
suit came out of the cash office with Green and the other officer
behind. My attention quickly shifted to what followed them. There
were two paramedics carrying a stretcher from upstairs. I couldn’t
see the identity of the covered body, and I couldn’t imagine who it
was. I was sure I had been the only one in the club. Maybe they had
caught the guy who tried to rob us. Relieved, I sat back down into
Phil’s chair.

Not more than a few minutes had passed when
the large man walked into the office.

“Mr. Drake, I’m Detective Williams. Can I ask
you a few questions?” Williams was the same gentleman I had seen a
few minutes ago. He was a powerfully built black man who looked
like he should have been sacking a quarterback instead of
questioning me.

“Yes, go ahead.”

“How well did you know Sherry Allen,” he
asked.

“I know her pretty well . . .is this about
the robbery?”

“Not exactly-”

“Not exactly? Wasn’t that the robber being
carried out on the stretcher?” I interrupted.

“Sherry Allen was found dead in her
office.”

Chapter 6

“Dead . . . She was the one being carried
out?” Stunned, I didn’t know what else to say. The room fell so
silent I could hear my own heartbeat.

At first I wanted to call him a liar, but
thought better of that impulse. She couldn’t have been dead. It
seemed like I had just seen her.

“What time did you see her last?” he
quizzed.

“It must have been around six thirty or seven
o’clock when I called all the employees to the front of the
club.”

“And you saw her at that time?”

“Yes,” I paused replaying the events I could
remember, despite the pain in my head. “But I don’t remember seeing
her leave.”

“Didn’t you find it strange she didn’t
leave?” he asked as if I had something to hide.

“I would have, but with so much going on, I
just didn’t notice.” The fact was, I just didn’t care. I spend most
of my time at the club trying to avoid her. Getting everyone out to
safety was my only concern. “Why are you asking me these
questions?”

“We’re trying to establish a timetable for
when the murder occurred.”

“That’s why you asked me how well I knew
her?”

“I needed a little background information on
the victim,” he said. “What can you tell me about her?”