Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

73 - THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Four bodies, two nudes and two in uniform, was laying out cheek-to-cheek in the dusty driveway when a familiar red pickup truck tore into Broken Heart Park.  Christos Kartone sprang from the front seat like an enraged silverback ape.

“One day on da job and already da people dropping dead like flies!”  The Boss pulled at his hair in anguish.  He stormed past me toward the policeman, but Maggie stepped between Christos and the cop.

“Joe Plato was just about to tell us what happened,” she confronted The Boss.  “Do you mind?”

Christos was speechless, his head bobbed side to side like he couldn’t believe my Maggie actually dared challenge him.

Now with everyone silent, Joe Plato commenced to tell it like it was.

“I was laying awake in bed.  It was ‘round 12 o’clock.  I thought I’d go outside for a walk and check on the grounds.  I came around Miss Dorothy’s trailer, and there they were!  The two white boys I been telling you about.  They were digging up the flowers again.  I was just about to yell at them when the Sheriff’s car drove up real slow with its lights out.  All of a sudden the Sheriff flipped on his spotlight and yelled, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’  The big dude yelled back, ‘Planting marigolds.’

“The Sheriff and the Deputy got out and demanded identification.  But before the officers had a chance to read them their Miranda rights, the big one swung his shovel upside the Sheriff’s head.  The Sheriff stiffened like a board, and dropped in the dead lady’s flower patch.  Meanwhile, the Deputy was going after the little whatnot who was wearing dress and heels.  They tussled and struggled, and I could see the intensity of them trying to rip each other’s clothes off.  Then big dude walked over and whacked the Deputy upside his head.  That’s when I knew I needed to get some protection, fast.

“So I ran back to my coach and pulled out my service revolver.  I’ve owned a gun for over thirty years.  I’ve never used it, well, except for that one time.  Still, I keep a weapon loaded and ready for situations just like this.  Then I ran back to the scene of the altercation, not just as a security guard from Second Shield but as a Brother of the Mystical Knights.”

While Joe was busy recounting his tale, a woman in a white uniform came strolling around the corner holding a tray of cupcakes and a pot of coffee.  It was the Night Nurse herself who tended me through my two unpaid stays at St. Ides Infirmary, Miss Dorothy Gotti.

“I was on duty when I heard over the police scanner that there was some trouble out here at Broken Heart Park, so I rushed right out.”  She held out a tray of snacks.  “Anyone need a nice cup of coffee or a little something to nibble on?”

“Remember me?” I asked Miss Dorothy.

Her eyes lit up.  “Oh, yes, of course.  And you’re actually standing up this time.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you standing up all by yourself.  Well, aside from your escapes.  But, besides that, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on your two feet before.  How are you doing?”

“Okay, how’s about you?”

Before I could tell Miss Dorothy I knew about her moving on out to Broken Heart Park to look after Little Billy, Maggie interrupted.  “People!  People!  Excuse me!  We are attempting to solve a crime involving four dead persons before we have a fifth body on our hands.”

All heads turned toward Joe Plato’s blood-soaked head.  Joe picked up the thread of his narrative while the rest of us reached for coffee and snacks.

“Like I was saying,” Joe continued, “when I got back here, there was just the two white boys who had been digging up the flowers, only now they were dressed up in the officers’ uniforms.  I wondered how this could be.

“Then I saw they were getting ready to make a getaway in the Sheriff’s car.  I thought I’d better do something fast.  I decided to make a citizen’s arrest.  I shouted, ‘Hey, you!  That’s right, you!  You over there!  Stop in the name of the law!’

“The big guy in the Sheriff’s uniform was getting into the driver’s side of the car when I hollered at him.  He turned back to me and whipped out his own weapon and fired.  The bullet grazed me in the head.  I fired and fell over backwards.  I must have hit my head on Miss Tonya’s hubcap walkway, because I don’t remember much after that.”

The policeman stood up, “Yeah, but the fact is you killed two people carrying on like that.”

“Don’t be so rash, officer,” Maggie corrected.  “First, check the fingerprints on the shovel used to bludgeon the real Sheriff and his Deputy.  I think you’ll find that Joe Plato here really shot a cold-blooded murderer and wanted man by the name of Jack Philpot.  And Mr. Plato really shot Jack Philpot in justified self-defense.  Mr. Plato only fired his weapon once, and, if you carefully examine the bullet in the other body, you will see that the bullet could not have been fired by Mr. Plato’s gun.”

I had to hand it to her, Maggie sure is smart.  Funny, though, how she was talking to a policeman at the scene of the crime but looking right at Christos Kartone the whole time.

Popular posts from this blog

Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

  7 - THE CHASE IS OFF There I was, briefly enjoying a spell of peace and quiet while Little Billy laid out in that ditch with his one eye open for passing buzzards when, off the highway, there comes this beat-up Chevy kicking up a big ol’ cloud of dust.   The car circled around once and then skidded to a stop in front of my personal mobile home. Unlike Little Billy, both of my eyes was now wide open, which was not an easy accomplishment considering all the dust floating through the air.   I watched with curious interest as this sweaty feller all duded up in a pink shirt and pale blue pants and white shoes with matching white belt stepped out of his vehicle.   This stranger had the air of a man who’d found a fashion statement and was determined to keep it. “Howdy, sir,” he glad-handed me.   “The name’s Chase, Abel Chase, attorney-at-law, here to service your every legalistic need.”   He shoved his business card in my hand. Abel P. Chase, Esq. (Jr...
Read more

Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

  59 - TO BOLDLY GO WHERE MANY MEN HAVE GONE BEFORE   It was the coldness that brought her around, forcing lids to open despite the heavily mashed mascara mixed with a tequila and cheese crust.   Within seconds she realized her eyes were the only part of her body she was able to move, and she was also aware of her nakedness against an icy metal table. Shadows moved in front of bright lights.   Dark shapes surrounded her.   Then a face leaned in close.   Large, black, football-shaped eyes stared down at her.   She stared back, unable to scream.   The truth was she really didn’t feel like screaming; nothing about this felt unnatural to her; she’d been raised on this stuff. Then a more familiar face leaned in, a familiar face from her past. It was Flouncing-Walk.   And there was Fuchsia-Feather and Butter-Fist.   They were all here, all The Mary Men who’d disappeared on that night so long ago.   And they hadn’t changed a bit. ...
Read more

Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

  65 - MY FIRST STAFF MEETIN’ My cab pulled up in front of an old pool hall.   “Hey, what’s this?” I shouted at the back of the cab driver’s turban.   “I said I wanna go to Broken Heart Park, Inc.” “You are most definitely here, sir,” the cabbie pointed to the building.   “You will notice over there by the little door between the pool hall establishment and the Kit Kat Klub?   That’s the entrance that leads to the offices you desire.   That will be $7.50 before tip, please sir, thank you very much.” I handed him a ten.   As I waited for my change I checked around.   This was not what I expected.   Broken Heart Park may not be much to look at, but it sure beat the hell outta this dump.   I pocketed my change and headed toward my destiny. The building’s door stuck a little, so I pushed it open with a hard nudge from my shoulder.   As the door dragged across the floor I got dust all over Dookie’s pretty orange shirt, and I ho...
Read more