Fatal Encounters
by Irv Pliskin
Chapter 34
Hallen had just pulled the police unit up alongside Frank’s car, when his cell phone rang.
He flipped it open, “Hallen.” He listened for a moment or two, and put out his hand to stop Frank from leaving the car. “What? This isn't a joke is it,Amos? You're not trying to rattle my chain for some perverse reason are you? Damn. That's a hell of development. Well, what do you think we should do? Do you want us to come over there now? I hate like hell to drive back tonight, we’re both bushed and could use a few hours sleep.”
He listened a little longer. “That sounds like a plan. If you need me, give a call, and thanks for understanding why we're not streaming there, lights flashing and siren screaming. Good. We'll see you at six so tomorrow. Do you want us to stop for coffee and doughnuts? Okay, thanks. See you then.”
He clicked the phone off and turned to Godowsky who looked at him with eyebrows raised in question.
“Hell of a thing.” Hallen said. “That was Sheriff Amos.”
“Yes, sir,” Frank said, “I gathered that. What's a hell of thing? They break out or something?”
“No, nothing like that. Something really bizarre. Your friend Frauder is dead.”
“Bastard's not my friend. What did you say? He's dead. Really?”
“Yep, That's what Perry told me.”
“No kidding? What the hell happened?”
“Well, according to the sheriff they lodged him and FIST together, and when Frauder realized that FIST had killed that woman and that the massage parlor was closed, he took off on him. Called him names, said his mother was a whore, or something like that. FIST couldn't take that. He attacked the bastard, and before anybody could respond had choked him to death. Took less than a minute or so, just like that.”
He snapped his fingers.
“Jesus, no shit?”
”That's what Amos told me.”
“Well, don't we have to get over there boss, and take charge of things?”
“Normally, we would. But according to Perry, the entire thing was on the hidden video camera. Word for word. We can't do anything now, anyway. The coroner will be there soon and record the details, and then they'll take Frauder off for autopsy. FIST is in shock and in a solitary cell. He won't go anywhere, and he can wait. Perry will keep him on ice for us. You and me, we need some sleep, so I decided we can get over there in the morning. I'll pick you up right here at five in the morning. Can you manage that?”
“Yes, sir, I sure can. Can I tell Regina that the bastard is dead?”
“I don't see why not. It may bring some joy into her life. Probably will, as much as you being there will.”
“Gee, thanks, boss.”
“See ya,” Hallen said. “Get the hell outta the car so I can go home.”
“Yes sir.” Frank got out, shut the door and watched Hallen burn rubber leaving the site.
Frank got into his car, pulled out his cell phone and dialed his home number. It rang twice when Regina answered.
“Hello,” she said. “I hope that's you, Frank.”
“Me. Right. I'm hungry. Can you whip up some eggs or something? I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Okay?”
“Sure. Is food all you're hungry for, lover? Will you want anything else?”
“You hussy! know the answer to that. But we may not have much time. I have to be out early.”
“What again?”
“Yeah, I'll tell you when I see you. Just get everything ready, the food and the rest of it. Okay?”
“Count on it. Count on it, darling.”
When Frank opened the door of his apartment all the living room lights were out. The room was romantically lit with candles. Regina, wearing a very light, diaphanous chemise was waiting for him, arms outstretched. He carefully locked the door behind him, and then scooped her into his arms.
“Lover,” she whispered into his ear. “Do you want to eat first or celebrate your promotion in the bedroom?”
“The celebration is what I really want,” he said, “but I think I have to postpone it and eat some food, because there are some really important things I have to tell you.”
“What kind of things?”
“Very important ones.”
“Do you want me to slip a robe on so you won't be distracted?”
“That might be a good idea. Don't be put off by this. These things are vital, and I shouldn't keep them waiting.”
She sensed the seriousness in his voice and walked into the bedroom and came out wearing his thick terry cloth robe. It didn't fit her well, but it would do.
He sat at the kitchen table as she poured coffee and started to scoop scrambled eggs and bacon onto his plate. She put bread in the toaster and jelly and butter on the table and then sat down.
“Well?”
“Where do I start? There's been a hell of a lot going on, really a hell of a lot. First of all, and I don't suppose this will bother you much, Jerry just told me that your mother's husband, your step father, is dead.”
She sucked in her breath and stared at him. “No! Really? Are you sure?”
“So far as I know. I haven't seen his corpse, but according to a call we got just a short time ago, yes, he's dead. How will that affect your mom?”
“I don't know.”
“How is she, by the way?”
“Better. Resting comfortably. I'll have to get over to the hospital as soon as possible and tell her. What happened, auto accident, something like that?”
“No. Not an auto accident. Let me tell you in sequence it may be easier to follow that way. Well, after I was sure that Frauder had manipulated your inheritance and had you listed as dead so he could get your money, Jerry and I went to see him. We walked into his office without warning, and found him playing sex games with a teenager who worked for him part time. She said he had intimidated her, demanded sex or no job. She needed the job so she submitted. We caught him in the act, but he would probably have insisted that she was at fault, demanded sex from him because he was so virile and good looking and she had the hots for older men. ”
“Oh, my God,” Regina said. “That son of a bitch, that's terrible.”
“Yes it was terrible. We already had cause to arrest him, so we did and decided we needed to get him where he couldn't pull strings and get out on bail and scamper. So, we took him to the lockup in Lenhartsville. Jerry and the sheriff there are good friends, so we were able to stash him in a secure cell out of the way where no one would know him, or know what was going on. We had an excuse. The girl's father had found out about what he had demanded of his daughter, and was intending to kill him if he could find him. He even had a vigilante mob with him, so we thought we did the right thing. We were about to question him when we got a call that there had been a problem at your apartment. Do you know a woman named Evelyn Jugman?”
Regina shook here head yes. “Sure, she's a neighbor. What about her?”
“Well, a guy named FIST, do you know him?”
“No, I know of him, He worked for the Dream Gals as sort of a bouncer and manager. He was out of town when I was there. What about him? What has he got to do with Evelyn?”
“Well, he was ordered to get you back to work there at Dream Gals.”
“Ordered? Ordered? By whom?”
“By the guy who owned the place. Your mother's husband.“
Regina responded with shock and surprise.
“Well,” Frank went on, “when you didn't respond to his phone calls, or answer his messages, Fist went out to get you and bring you back to work. He ran into Evelyn on the property and thought she was you: she was your size, blond, and so forth. She kept saying she wasn't you, but he didn't believe her, and dragged her into the apartment and worked her over pretty good.”
“The poor thing. Is she all right?”
“No. FIST killed her. He beat her, cut her and hung her up on the closet rod with duct tape. He denied it of course, but that seems to be the case. We went to Dream Gals and arrested him, shut the place down, too. We took him to the same jail Frauder was in, to have him held. They put the two of them together, and somehow Frauder managed to piss FIST off so badly that he choked him to death. I have to be out there early tomorrow to work on the investigation. Jerry thought that since we were so bushed and close to home when we got the call, it could wait until early morning. They have the entire thing on video tape, so it should be an open and shut case.”
Frank had finished he eggs and bacon as he talked. He put jam on the last slice of toast, took a bit of that, and finished it too.
“Jesus I was hungry. Thanks. That was very good.”
He stood up from the table and began to unbutton his shirt. “Now I've got about five hours to sleep, so I better get to it.”
“Have you got a few minutes for a small celebration of your promotion?” Regina asked in a sultry voice.
“Darling, you are the most exciting and wonderful woman I have ever known, and I would love to. But I don't even think I have the energy for that. Unfortunately. Please don't be offended.”
“I'm not.” She stood in front of him, kissed him on the chin and said,
“You're as tight as a drum. Let’s take a moment to do something that won't need a lot of your energy, but might help you relax. You can reciprocate later when you come home tonight and we really celebrate.”
She unbuttoned his pants, pushed them down pulled down his undershorts and then knelt before him.
When the alarm went off at 4 AM , Regina was already up. She had made coffee and had muffins warming in the oven.
Frank shaved and showered quickly, and was dressed in minutes. He was wearing civilian clothes. Now that he was a detective he did not have to work in uniform.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked.
“Not much. I can sleep when you've left. i wanted to be sure you got up on time, and I had a lot to think about. So, I tossed for a while, and while you were out, really out, I got out of bed and made the muffins and sat and thought about what you told me. I've been wondering about what that bastard's death will do to my life. How will it affect it? I can't get over the fact that he ran that place and it seems he recruited me for it. Why? Why did he want to do that to me? The whole thing is so, so devastating. I'm having trouble accepting it. You know Frank darling, I shouldn't say this, but I think I'm happy, very happy that he is dead. If he really is.”
“I'm sure my information is correct. He is. Listen, I have to go. I'll call as soon as I have a schedule, and we can talk about this tonight. Okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
“Listen, there is something else I want you to think about.”
“What?”
“Maybe we ought to get you some one to talk to about this, a professional who can help you sort it all out. Don't bristle. You're not nuts and I don't think you're nuts. But think about getting some help, I think it would help us both.”
She was about to object, but she saw the determination in his face, and in his voice and said she would consider it.
“Please,” he said. “There are going to be a hell of a lot of strange details to worry about, I'm pretty sure. A professional uninvolved expert may help us both a lot.”
He kissed her and left.
Carl Rogers had spent the last few days in a Marriott off the highway. He never left the room. He ordered his food from room service and spent his time watching television and thinking about his situation. He was beginning to feel insecure about the car and his safety. He didn't think that they knew about the car, but if they did then he could be in real trouble. He thought about it, feeling he would need it eventually, and yet it had to be less in the open than it was. The hotel parking lot was safe, no doubt, but he worried about it. He decided that he had to find a private garage, one that a homeowner would rent him for a while for the car, and find some other way to hide himself.
The local paper had some garages to rent, and he noted addresses and phone numbers. He would check them out in the afternoon, he decided.
But, he needed more than that. He looked out of his window at the busy highway, and watched the cars and trucks moving along. Cars and trucks, he thought. Cars and trucks. And then he got an idea. He went through his counterfeit papers and found a CDL--a Certified Driver's License---one that would allow him to rent an l8-wheeler tractor trailer and drive that. He knew how to drive one, having learned years ago in the Navy. A tractor trailer. That seemed like a great way to hide, and really effective solution to hiding himself.
The telephone book revealed lots of opportunities to rent rigs. Carl picked out a couple of likely sources and decided he would go there after he had stashed the car. He thought about how to do all of this, with just the car and no viable address. He first searched for a garage, and was lucky. He found one, not far from the hotel. The garage was located in an industrial area, in a long row of rental garages.
The building was cinder block. Each unit was completely separate from the other. There was an overhead, steel garage door, which could be locked securely, a bare light bulb in a light fixture in the center of the building and a sturdy steel door, that opened inward at the back of the garage. The door opened into an alley. Carl decided this was a great set up. The garage was deep enough to hold the big car comfortably, and there was enough side room to open all of the doors easily. A great set up.
He rented it, paid cash for six months, and went looking for a locksmith to buy strong, serviceable locks. He got them, and knew that he could put the car there with no trouble and feel reasonably certain that it would be secure.
Problem one, what to do with the car, was solved.
Problem two, what to do with all the money, also solved. If the garage was secure enough, he could lock it in the car trunk and just leave it until he needed it.
There was a small strip mall about half a mile away from the row of garages. Carl garaged the car, leaving most of his personal clothing and money in the trunk. He locked the back door using the secure system that was provided. He dropped two heavy steel girders across it into the racks that were bolted into the cinder block. Then he took a 6x6 piece of wood and braced it under the heavy door knob. It would take a battering ram or a dynamite blast , he thought, to get in that way. From the outside, the door was very secure.
He then put on work clothes, took his fake identification with the false CDL, and changed his identification. He was now S. Gingerman. He had been S. Gingerman when he had stayed in the Day's Inn in New Jersey, but he felt sure there would be no way to connect the two.
He left the garage, secured the door with the special, heavy duty industrial locks he had bought and walked to the nearby strip mall. He found a phone, called a cab and waited in a small coffee shop.
When the cab arrived, he had it take him to the Apex Truck Rental Company, and there he rented an 18-wheeler, with a KenWorth tractor with the largest sleeping unit he could find. He could, they said, get one with a pot and shower, but that would take a couple of days. He took the one with just the sleeping and sitting area, and the rest of the amenities, good sized color TV, Compact hi-fi with CD and tape deck, video and DVD player as well.
He decided he could, as the rest of the truck driving universe did, use truck stops for bathroom essentials, and cleaning up in showers. The $5 charge most of the truck stops levied was cheap enough for a shower, clean towels and soap. The water was hot and strong, usually, and it was a good place to wash off a lot of life's troubles while a guy remained anonymous. If he drove to various truck stops, he could remain almost completely unknown. The truck was unmarked except for the essential registration numbers, and the trailer had no markings at all. He stopped at the first truck stop he came to and parked with the other trucks, locked up and slept. No registration, no checking, nothing to draw attention to him. He could fuel up with the credit card, use cash in the trucker's restaurants and hide pretty successfully.
It was worth a try, he was certain. When he went into the restaurant for food, He picked up a copy of the Truck Stop guidebook. All of the stops were listed there, along with their facilities. If he liked the way it felt in the sleeping cab, and how it suited him, he might just go across the country to California and have some fun.
But he stopped in mid speculation. If he drove across the country he would not want to do it empty. He could of course pick up the car, load it in the trailer and have a reasonable amount of weight. But, if he got stopped at a weigh station, he would need papers, bills of lading, that sort of thing. It was easier just to make a circle in the area he was in, go from stop to stop in a hundred mile area and let it go at that.
The tractor trailer might be a good way to hide, but he needed lots of paper work if he was going to go real distances in it. When he left the Truck Rental agency he decided to see what was going on in the truck driving world. He picked up the routinely supplied CB radio and said, in a husky voice:
“Breaker, Breaker, this is Nomad. What's going on out there?”
A voice came back. “Not much, Nomad. Whatcha looking for?”
“Looking for a good stop for a rest...you know, a place with food and action maybe.”
“What's your twenty?”
He told him where he was.
“Just down the road about l0 miles on the right there's a small stop. Plenty of room to park, and after six you might find some lot lizards crawling around. That whatcha mean by action?”
“Might be if you don't tell my wife.”
There was a chuckle and the voice signed off.
Hallen and Godowsky pulled up before the jail at about 6 AM. They had stopped and bought one of those gallon containers of coffee and a couple of dozen donuts at a Dunkin’ Donuts just outside of town.
They carried the goodies into the building, and put them in the Sheriff's office, and then following the instructions of the desk officer, went into the jail block.
There was a lot of activity in the isolated cell where the Frauder body lay. The coroner was there. There was a photographer and the other personnel needed to handle the scene.
Sheriff Amos saw them and walked over.
“Sorry about this. But how in the world we we know that this could happen?”
“Don't worry about it, Perry. I don't care at all. As a matter of fact it will save me a lot of work.” Hallen said. “I would have had to build a case against the guy, and that would take time and effort. The unfortunate part is that Frank here is all broken up about it. He is really undone, you know?”
Amos turned to look at him. “Sorry Frank. Really Sorry. What was this guy to you?”
Before he could answer, Hallen said. “Frank's dating Frauder's wife's daughter. He's going to have to tell her, and that upsets him a lot.”
Amos looked stricken. “Jesus, Frank, I am sorry. Want me to go with you when you tell her? It may help ease the pain and make it easier for you.”
Frank looked at him seriously. “Sheriff, don't you like me? If I tell her alone, I am apt to get screwed right there on the carpet, she'd be so happy. If you come along, it might have to wait. How come you don't like me?”
The details and the work of getting all of the information straight on Frauder's killing took most of the morning. Although it was technically a homicide, Hallen decided that he would like to handle it differently.
In his mind, FIST had done a service to all of mankind. Frauder was a shit, a shit who need to be killed. There was a price that had to be paid, Hallen knew. The pity was that FIST was too simple minded to understand that he had done the world a favor, so he could not turn what he had done into a personal bargaining chip, an advantage.
A tough prosecutor could put him away for life, but Hallen thought that that would not be equitable. So far, FIST had been very helpful. He had not withheld information, and although it was inadvertent he had saved everyone the cost and pain of a trial. It was likely that well handled, and carefully interrogated, FIST could be even more helpful. Hallen decided that it was worth taking the time to check with the senior state prosecutor and see if some sort of deal could be made for the man.
That took a long time and some very persuasive rhetoric, but finally he got an agreement that if FIST continued to cooperate and gave him significant information about Frauder's activities, and those of Arnie Hudson, that he might be put into the witness protection system. He might have to be punished for what he did to Evelyn Jugman, but the information he had about Frauder and Hudson might be enough to even help him avoid prosecution for that crazy killing.
Hallen figured that one good deed, like doing Frauder in, even if it was unintentional, deserves another from the authorities.
By noon it was pretty much resolved. FIST was to be kept incommunicado there at the jail, pending Hallen's ability to get to him and discuss things in the next few days. Under the circumstances, even though it was not correct procedure, he would just be held, not charged at all. Frauder's death was to be kept quiet, too. No one was asking for him, so that would not be a problem.
Hallen having made all the arrangements, went down to the cell block, and into FIST'S cell. The man was still muttering about the things Frauder had said about his mother. He certainly was unable to focus on the consequences of his impulsiveness.
Hallen decided he would not be able to even reach him, intellectually for a while. Accordingly, he told him that he would be back in a day or two, and that he was not to cause any problems. Did he understand that?
“Look,” Hallen said. “We're just holding you here to decide what to do with you. Don't go asking for a lawyer or anything like that, and things may go well for you. If you get a lawyer involved here, before we spell it all out, then I can't do anything for you. If you wait patiently, then i think I can help you a lot. Will you do that for me? Just wait until I can get back in a day or so? Do you understand me?”
FIST said that he did, and that he would do nothing and talk to no one until the detective came back to see him. They shook hands and Hallen left.
He and Frank and Sheriff Amos went to lunch and then Hallen and Godowsky left to go back to their homes.
“We've put in a lot of time here over the past few days, ” Hallen said. “Let's take the rest of the day off. I'll clear it with Lieutenant Starkie.”
“Fine,” Frank said. “I'd like to spend some time with Regina and bring her up to speed. We'll have to tell her mom, and she may want to do some thing about a funeral, and the rest. There's going to be a lot of details.”
“You don't know the half of it,” Hallen said. “The son of a bitch must have had a lot of stuff that will have to be dealt with. Money, property, a will and all of that. And we are going to have a bitch of a time getting that business of Regina's annuity straightened out. Be prepared to fight like hell with lawyers, especially if his will didn't spell out what happens to things.It is apt to be a real pain in the ass.”
“Jesus, Frank said. I hadn't thought about that. Well, we'll have to take care of things, no matter what. But one thing, she's not going to shed tears over the son of a bitch. Her mom might, but she won't.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, when I told her last night he was dead, she almost cheered. So she won't give a shit about him, except how it may impact on her mother. I get the idea that although her mother is loving and all, she is blessed with a mid-summer day IQ. Not stupid, you understand, but nothing that would trouble a brain surgeon. Know what I mean?”
Hallen laughed, “Sure, the world is full of people like that.”
It was mid afternoon when Hallen dropped Godowsky at his car, and drove off to go home to be with his family. Frank got into the car, slipped his cell out of his pocket and dialed his home number.
Regina answered immediately after the first ring.
“What have you been doing? Sitting there waiting for my call?”
“Absolutely. When are you coming home?”
“I'm on my way now. I'll be there in twenty minutes, or so.”
“Wonderful,” she said. And he could hear the pleasure in her voice.
When he pulled the car up before he apartment, he looked up and could see the drapery in the living room move slightly. She had apparently been watching for him, waiting for him. That give him a thrill of pleasure. It was, he felt, great having someone care that much.
He was suffused with feelings of well being, and a feelings of sexual tension as well. He was sure he knew what the ultimate resolution would be, but he wondered how she would set it up to make it most exciting for him.
He put his key into the door, but before he could turn it, the door opened and she said, “Quick, come inside. I don't want anyone to see me like this, except you. Hurry.”
He stepped inside the foyer, the door slammed shut behind him and he heard the locks click into place. He turned to look at her.
She was dressed in a flimsy, diaphanous gown, and under it she wore nothing but a garter belt and stockings. Before he could comment she threw her arms around him, and kissed him vigorously, devotedly, as if there were no tomorrows.
She grabbed him by the hand, led him into the bedroom saying only.
“It's time for us to celebrate your promotion.”
An hour later, as he showered he speculated on her and her attitudes. There was something comforting, reassuring to have someone care that much, and sound so concerned about him. He hoped that the joy and the excitement could last...forever would be nice.
