The Bicycle Thief
[overvoice]
It’s my day off from the
precinct in Tutterton, New Jersey. A gloriously clear, sunny day, not a cloud
in the sky until I turn a corner and one abruptly appears overhead and rains on
my perfect afternoon. I know the voice before I see Benny Garfield standing in
front of Leonard Vlamos’s bicycle shop arguing loudly with the owner. Benny’s
got his hands on the handlebars of a blue Schwinn, jerking on the chain to
which it’s tethered to the rack. He’s on his tiptoes, all but sky borne, in
what appears to be an effort to lift the bike and throw it through the shop
window. The chain is long and the bike’s reaching the shop window is a real
possibility. I’m amazed at the little guy’s strength, but hasten my steps to
get there before he does some damage to the bike, the man or himself.
“What’s
going on?”
[overvoice]
I place my hand on
Benny’s shoulder. He turns, squints up at me and lowers the bike, letting it
fall diagonally against the bike next to it, but he doesn’t take his hands off
the handlebars. He’s not a day over twelve, but every inch is scrappy muscle
pulled tight for action.
“Crazy
old coot. He stole my bike’s what he’s done, and now he’s gettin’ ready ta sell
it ta somebody. I’m not allowing it, ya hear? I’m not.”
“Step away from there,
ya little punk ‘fore I knock some sense into your head.”
[overvoice]
Lenny Vlamos lifts the
broom in his hands and swings it just past the kid’s head, as I step between
them. Vlamos’s broom hits my shoulder and almost throws me off balance. I grab
it by its bristles and pull it out of Lenny’s hands before he can resist,
slinging it to the sidewalk.
“You
better tell me what this is about.”
“He’s
stole my bike, I tell ya, Officer Weir. He took it and now he’s…”
“I
haven’t stole nothing, ya dumb little brat. I paid for the bike like all the
others I get for sale, and I got the billasale to prove it.”
[overvoice]
He turns to go into his
shop, I’m guessing to get the invoice when I stop him.
“Just
hold up a minute, will ya, Mr. Vlamos. Let’s try to settle this without
entreaties to proofs and such.”
[overvoice]
Vlamos faces me, his
greasy apron still on as though he’s running a diner. But it’s easy enough to
see the grease isn’t from a grill. It’s dark and muddy from bicycle repairs.
“The boy seems to be
pretty certain about this being his bike. Why are you so sure, Benny?”
“’Cause
it’s got a dent in the back fender, right here, from when I fell against the
curb at Freddie Pruitt’s a snow day from school last winter. You can…”
“See
here. He’s the bicycle thief, Crandall Weir, and you and the department and the
whole town knows about how he steals. It’s one of them cases of propulsion,
when you accuse the one who doesn’t do it to throw suspicion off yourself who
does. You know how it works. You’ve had him at the station, more’n once I
suspect.”
[overvoice]
The
thing I’ve noticed in altercations of this kind is that both sides take extreme
positions which make negotiations very unlikely. It’s the point, I suppose, but
it makes it difficult for the negotiator, which was the position I now found
myself in. I first turned to Leonard Vlamos.
“It’s Officer Weir,
despite the fact that we occasionally sit together by chance in the Main Street
Diner and share a chat over a cuppa joe, okay? And it’s projection, not
propulsion, Mr. Vlamos. But putting aside the grammar lesson, you need to turn
the heat down on the discussion.”
“I’s
telling you, Officer Weir, Lenny’s known for being more’n a sour puss, he’s a
gouger is what he is. He sets his prices so as guys like me can’t…”
“And
as for you, Benny, Mr. Vlamos—and it’s Mr. Vlamos to you too—he is
correct in his reminder that you’ve had your bump-ins with the law, have you
not?”
“Yes,
but I…”
“Have
you not?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“There,
that’s better. Now, Benny, many bicycles have dents of this kind.”
“Exactly
what I tried to tell him, Officer Weir.”
“I’m
going to ignore your sarcasm for the time being, Leonard Vlamos, as I would
like to ascertain as quickly and accurately as possible why you two lugheads
are at loggerheads over this bike.”
“Officer
Weir, I knows it’s my bike. It’s been missing from my yard since
Wednesday afternoon. I looked ever’where for it, not seeing it around, and
today walking ‘cross central park, I sees it through the trees. I knows it
right away ‘cause of its color, its bright blue with white on the gas tank,
see’s, right here, and it’s got this same bell. It’s had the spinner knob on
the handle what’s been taken off, you can see the scrape where it was so long.
It comes loose since I use it so much, and the scrape’s left where I’ve
tightened it agin. I know me Schwinn, sir.”
“Okay,
okay, Benny. Well, Mr. Vlamos, Benny’s had his say. Now it’s your turn. How did
you come by this particular bike?”
“I
purchased it fair and square as I tried to tell ya. I’ve proof of purchase.”
“Just
tell me from whom you acquired it.”
“My
supplier’s who. He gets them from Roundup Wheels in Wellington and brings me a
half a dozen at a time when my rack gets low. The kids like ‘em used, if you
can believe that.”
“Okay,
I’ll take a look at that bill of sale, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure ‘nough. Got it right here.”
[footsteps
leaving]
“But
Officer Weir, that don’t tell ya nothin’. He could make this billasale up or
his wife’s more like it, so it’s not in his hand. One a them at-home
secretaries.”
“Now,
Benny…”
“And
anyway, who’s to say that he don’t keep stolen bikes stashed away in the back
somewhere, hidden, you see, and then brings ‘em out as soon as he’s got the
bills made out like real?”
“Don’t you think that’s stretching
it a bit, even for you, Benny? It would take some time and ingenuity to drive
around at night, grab the bikes from yards or sheds all over town and lock them
up in back while he manufactures the invoice.”
“His
wife could do it, and nobody’d know.”
“His
wife?” [laughs] “I think you might be listening to The Whistler and Boston
Blackie too much, lad.”
“Oh
no, sir. It’s Richard Diamond for me.”
“Sunday
nights I’ll know where to find you, then?”
“Ah,
you know how good they is then, right?”
“Hmmm…”
[footsteps coming back]
“Here
you are, sir.”
[overvoice]
He
hands me the invoice, and I catch the sarcasm in his eyes when he gives me the
‘sir’ address. I read the invoice carefully and notice that down the list of
bicycle merchandise he has listed a “blue Schwinn with bubble tires, bell and
knob.” A big red “Paid in Full” is rubber stamped at the bottom with some
signature it would take a cryptographer from the military to make out. I hand
it back and shake my head at Benny.
“Looks like everything’s in order, Benny. He’s purchased
the bicycle all right.”
“But,
sir, it can’t be right. This bike is mine, and I don’t know how he done it, but
he stole it from me one way or another. It may not look like it ‘cause the
knob’s…”
“I
think what Mr. Vlamos is most concerned about is that you attempted, without
consulting him, to take the bike from the rack, isn’t that right, Mr. Vlamos?”
“Yes,
it is true.”
“But…”
“I tell you what, Benny,
why don’t we let Mr.Vlamos get back to his work while you and me go over to the
Main Street Diner and grab a soda. It’ll give me time to explain how this works
within the jurisdiction of the law. Thank you, Mr. Vlamos and good day to you, sir.”
[overvoice]
I put emphasis on the
"sir" business, took the boy by the shoulders and began walking him
toward the drugstore.
[soft footsteps as they
talk]
“He’s getting away
scot-free, I tell ya, Officer Weir. It ain’t right and law or no law I ain’t happy about it, not t‘all.”
“You can’t let your
impatience get the better of you, young man. Sometimes the law simply doesn’t
give you results as soon as you like, but usually, though not always, it comes
out on your side in the end.”
“Are you telling me ya
believe me, sir?”
“I’m telling you to have
patience long enough for me to see.”
“Ah, that’s no good.
That’s what I heard from Pa, over and over, and in the end he left us over not
finding the job Ma and me was supposed to have patience enough for him to find.
Patience be hanged.”
[opening and closing of
door]
[overvoice]
Inside it was cool as a
fan whipped a light breeze across our sweating faces. I took off my straw hat
and set it on the table as we slid into a booth. Benny’s eyes immediately
darted around the room, finally settling on a waitress who brought us two
menus.
“Hungry, Benny?”
“Sure. Could I have a
malt, I’d like a chocolate malt if I could.”
“You can have that and a
burger and fries, if you’d like. It’s lunchtime.”
“I can? Oh boy, oh boy.
Thanks for sure. I would indeed!”
[waitress laughs]
“Give me what the boy’s
having and make the malts thick with extra ice cream. I’m having my burger
medium well. How about you, Benny?”
“I’ll have the same,
sure ‘nough.”
[waitress laughs lightly
again]
“You want your malteds
with spoons, I take it? Before or with your lunch?”
“Bring it all at the
same time. The guy over there will down his before his burger arrives and then
I might have to order him two!”
[laughter and footsteps
leaving]
“Okay, Benny. I’ll be
honest with you, if you’re honest with me, deal?”
“Absolutely, sir. I
ain’t in the habit of lying to the law. Okay, I did that once, but it was
because of Richie Hopkins, it was, just like I told ya then. I got snookered
into it, and I ain’t never again. I promised, and I kept it clean since. ”
“Well, that’s good to
hear, Benny. Richie’s a bad influence, and you’re right to stay clear from the
likes of him and his crowd. What I want to talk to you about is that I believe
the bicycle on the rack is yours.”
“You do? You believe
me?”
“I do. And I’m pretty
sure I can have proof of it. But I’m not at liberty to tell you what at this
time. That’s what I mean by patience. There’s a difference between proof and
evidence. Sometimes we use those words interchangeably, but according to the
law, they are very different in this way. Evidence is the gathering of
information, sometimes by obtaining actually material…”
“Like fingerprints and
bullets!”
“Exactly like that. But
also simple things that are part of the crime scene, such as a vase with blood
on it or even finding the right object that’s been removed from the crime scene
though not actually involved in it. It gets complicated, you see?”
“Okay. And what’s proof,
then? You said there’s proof what’s different from the evidence.”
“Proof is the evidence
when it is shown to be valid, that is, when it’s the right material evidence,
uh…the right objects. You can gather evidence, but you have to prove it’s the
absolutely true information or objects for the crime.”
“There’s lots a
fingerprints on the scene, you’re saying, but they ain’t all the right ones,
the ones of the killer.”
“That’s the idea, Benny.
Yes, exactly like that. So I have to prove the information I gathered today is
right, beyond doubt, for this situation.”
“So he took it, didn’t
he?”
“That’s the part of my
not being at liberty to tell you yet. But in order for police work to work, you
have to keep your mouth shut and go about your business as though this thing
has been settled, do you understand.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not going to be
easy, especially you’re being the firebrand you are. But I’m the law, not you,
and your accusations won’t stand up in court. I’m serious about this, Benny.
It’s not a game. It’s the law.”
“I get it.”
“Good.”
[footsteps]
“Here you are, boys.
Can’t get this order mixed up, now can I? Same on both sides of the table.”
“Thanks, Miss.”
“Well, aren’t you the
polite one. Did I hear your name was Benny?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well, Benny, I
appreciate your politeness. Enjoy your lunch.”
“Thank you, Charmaine.”
“Anytime, Officer Weir.”
[footsteps leaving]
“She’s nice. She likes
you.”
“Oh? I thought it was
you she was giving all the attention to.”
“Not by a long shot.”
“Okay, hot shot. I’ll
have to keep an eye on you and your skills of observation.”
[light sounds of eating,
utensils clicking and such]
“So you’ll have to trust
me on this one, Benny. I think I know a way to get your bicycle back, but
you’ll have to give it some time.”
“But what if he sells my
bike in the meantime?”
“Well, there is that
possibility, and I can’t ask him to put it away until I have enough information
to do that. He presented me with an invoice that has the bike clearly listed
and a stamp, date and signature that indicates he paid for it. Now where he got
your bike from and whether the invoice is valid, we will just have to see.”
“So you’re working my
case?”
“I’m working your case,
but it’s not within the perimeters of my job—the other cases I’m working at the
precinct—so I’m gonna have to squeeze it in, but I’ll keep you updated as best
I can. Now, what’s the magic word, and for criminy’s sakes, don’t say it’s
‘please.’”
“Oh, no, sir. It’s patience. I knowed that
from the start.”
[overvoice]
When we got to the door
to leave, after I’d paid the check, left the tip, and thanked Charmaine again,
I decided Benny needed a clear reminder about staying away from Vlamos’s shop,
so I gave it to him.
“I’ll
do it because you’re asking me to, but it ain’t gonna be easy.”
“No,
it won’t be, Benny, but it is necessary. If the policeman on the beat sees you
there, it’s gonna be trouble for you, and you don’t want that again with the
police, do you?”
“No,
sir. That’s for sure.”
“Good
lad. So squelch your desire to needle Vlamos and let me do my job.”
[footsteps leaving, then
heavier footsteps rhythmically, softly, slowly with the overvoice]
The boy almost makes me
want to have kids, well, almost because kids in my life would be a horribly
wrong direction for me to take, more like a detour. I shudder to picture Benny on the bike using
the knob on the handlebars like he’s at the steering wheel of a car. It’s those
kinds of tricks with kids that make them so dangerous in your life. No, I’ll
not have kids, at least not for now, but…[sighs] if not now, when? Aw, it’s a
question greatly weighing on the heat-oppressed brain.
[chuckling to
self][pause]
But I’ve gotta follow
through on this bike business. Something’s rotten in the state of Leonard
Vlamos, and my gut tells me I better strike while the iron is hot.
[door bell jingling, door
opening and closing, few footsteps]
“Hello, Vlamos.”
“You again?”
“’fraid so.”
“What can I do for you
now? Where’s your sidekick?”
“Where’s the bike?”
“What bike?”
“You know what bike. I
don’t have time for this, Vlamos. Where’s the kid’s bike.”
“Sold it.”
“Oh, you did, did you? I
suggest you rethink that sale, because I can cause you a good deal of
difficulty if you don’t cooperate. I’m talking about within the next couple of
minutes.”
“You can’t come in here
and threaten me just because you have a badge. I tell ya, it isn’t here. I sold
it, Crandall.”
“Uh-huh. On a Saturday
when the temperature is close to a hundred on a square where not even a bird is
singing? We both know you didn’t sell it, but you could, you know?”
“I what?” [pause]
And how’s that?”
“I’ll buy it.”
“[sarcastic laughter]
Oh, I see. For the kid. Well, I can’t sell it to ya, because I don’t have it
anymore.”
“Okay, I really don’t
want to go to the back and look around for it myself, Lenny, but I will if I
have to, since we’re on a first name basis and all.”
[footsteps]
“You can’t just come in
here and search without probable cause.”
“Oh, I’ve got cause all
right.”
“Stop. Okay, okay, I’ll
sell it to you. I took it off the rack, because I knew it’d give the kid prov-o-cation.
He’s quick-tempered, that kid, and he’s un-American besides.”
“What’re you talking
about? He’s English. They saw as much of the war as we did, more actually, with
the bombing of their country. The Garfields came here to be near her ailing
sister and to try and start a better life, since they lost everything in
London. You need to practice a little respect where Benny’s concerned, Vlamos.”
“Well, that’s a two-way
street far as I’m concerned, and you saw how he acted. I don’t see much respect
coming from his direction. And I don’t need the trouble, Weir. So I did take
the bike to the back, like you said. But I wasn’t hiding it, nothing of the
sort. I was just keeping it outta the kid’s sight until I could…”
“Unload it on your
supplier so he could sell it somewhere else? I was surprised you put it on the
rack, seeing how it came from the town.”
“It was like I said. It
came to me, from where I can’t tell you. And who the hell knows if it’s the
kid’s bike, like he claims? He’s such a…”
“Who’s your supplier?”
“I don’t have to tell
you that. He’s my supplier’s all you need to know and has been for years,
totally on the up and up, nothing to get yourself in a snit about. He brings me
used bikes, I pay him a reasonable price for them, and he’s on his way.”
“The invoice didn’t have
a name on it. That made me a bit suspicious, if you get what I mean.”
“He’s an independent
supplier, keeps his taxes down.”
“Yeah, keeps his taxes
so low they’re off the books, that it?”
“C’mon, Weir. I’ve a
small business here. I make it because I keep things simple, otherwise I owe
the IRS an arm and a leg…look, I pay my taxes legit. I got shop space, a
telephone number, and a little square ad in the shopper part of the paper. It
pays the bills.”
“Okay, here’s the deal,
Vlamos. I’m going to take a walk to the front of this simple little shop of
yours and look around at the other bikes you have here, like a potential
customer would. And you’re going to ponder seriously about a potential sale
that you’ve got stashed in the back of the store for just such a customer as me
who might walk in here at any time. In other words, you’re thinking this is the
bike of my dreams for my kid back home, because I’ve already expressed the
opinion that I want a bike for my kid, but don’t wanna pay the price for a
brand new one, you following me so far?”
“I think so.”
“Good. So let’s commence
with this purchase then.”
“It’ll be a minute.”
“Thank you, Leonard.”
[footsteps, and the
opening and closing of a door in the distance]
[overvoice in a whisper,
during which are footsteps]
“Okay, he’s outta here,
down the basement where I’m thinking he’s taken his latest load. I’ll just take
a little walk to the back and see what might be...hmmm, a locked room. Uh-huh,
just as I thought. Not a prayer he’s got the key off the ring he’s carrying.
Wait. What’s this? Two towels hung on hooks high up, nearly outta sight. What
would towels be doing up so high over a work bench?” [sounds of scraping,
little groans] Higher reach than I thought, step ladder should do it. Aha. A
coupla keys on hooks behind the towels,
just in case other members of the operation need them when Lenny isn’t around
‘s my guess.”
[sounds of jangling keys
and footsteps, turning of a key and the opening of a door]
“Well, whatyaknow.
Bingo.”
“Turn around quiet. I want
no trouble, Weir.”
“Gun always at the
ready, Lenny? Nice little small-town shop owner like you? I’d say it’s more
like a nice little fence you got going for yourself, Vlamos. And here I thought
it might be bicycles, how small-minded of me. Stripping cars for cash, are you?
Quite the side business, Vlamos. Bet there’s more of these all over the
place—like in Wellington, Jefferson, Bitonville, Granger, on and on it goes, am
I right?”
“Maybe. Don’t matter to
you where you’re going.”
“And where’s that, Lenny?
You gonna shoot me? How’s that gonna work?”
“Don’t turn around. I said don’t turn
around. Now, you’re gonna walk outta here with me, to my car in back, and we’re
taking a little ride to the country. You don’t wanna ride, it’s a bullet in the
head right here. In case you’re wonderin’, it’s got a silencer.”
“I did notice that,
Lenny. One thing a detective knows is his guns. But, tell me, how’re you gonna
explain a body twenty feet from locked rooms filled with stolen car parts?”
“I won’t have to,
because tonight we’ll haul your corpse out to the dump where your buddies can
play around with why it’s there.”
“Oh, Lenny, I thought
you were smarter than this. They’re gonna talk to the kid. He’ll tell them the
whole bike story. Maybe they’ll listen this time, because he’s been seen with
me at the diner where the waitress overheard part of our conversation. You see,
that’s the problem with crime like you’re in right now. The evidence just seems
to mushroom—it’s the kid’s story, it’s the waitress’s story, it’s the bike’s
that’s absent because it can’t be found associated with you, then it’s the
blood pooling around on the floor where I fall, and the desperate over-bleached
clean-up…”
“Just cut it out. Just
stop. No, no, don’t you move. I gotta think…”
“Yes, I bet you do.”
[slow footsteps]
[sounds of chair
scraping and Weir’s sitting]
“I told ya not to move.
I mean it. I’ll kill you right here, I will, Weir.”
“Just wantin’ to sit
down, if that’s all right. Chair by the desk, right here, if that okay? I’ll
swivel around to face you, see. There. How’s this?”
“Get up, get up right
now. You can’t sit down. We’re leaving.”
“How you gonna do that,
Lenny? You have to close shop, lower the blind on the door, turn the lock, take
off your apron, lots of maneuvering to do, not to mention the walk to your car
and my willingness to cooperate.”
[bell jingling, door
opening and closing] [pause]
“Hello. Anybody here?”
“A customer, Lenny. Now
what’re you gonna do? You should’ve tied me up while you had the chance, you
think?”
“I can knock you out, I
can.” [scuffling noises, groans, and finally a heavy thud]
“Yeah, yeah, if you can.
If you’re gonna be a criminal that stays outta jail, Lenny, you gotta be one
that schemes past the crime to the all-pervasive cover-up.”
[overvoice]
It would take a good
part of the evening and into the night for the crew to gather all the evidence
on the scene, but after a couple of hours of processing everybody’s story down
at the station, and Lenny’s confinement in a cell, Benny and I were able to leave.
I insisted the boy call his mother, and with the sun sinking in the west, we
made our way across the central park. Benny was spitting out questions faster
than I could answer them, but I felt like he had a right to know. I urged him
to walk with his bike between us to keep it from wandering away from him again.
He thought that idea was funny and accepted my invitation to have our evening
meal at the Main Street Diner.
Charmaine was her usual
upbeat self, and I noticed she was as fine looking at the end of her shift as
the beginning. After we ordered hot roast beef over biscuits with potatoes,
carrots and peas on the side and were waiting for our food, Benny asked,
“So’s what tipped you
off? You said you couldn’t tell me before. Can you tell me now?”
“Yes, yes. Well, I don’t
see that it would hurt. It was a coupla things. The invoice was written in a
feminine hand and on plain ledger paper without letterhead. You can buy a 'Paid
in Full' stamp with the date at any office supply store. I’ve never seen a secretary
at the shop. I’m guessing his was at home, just like you suspected.”
“His wife? So I helped
solve the crime?”
“That you did, Benny.
That part of it, at least. At questioning, Vlamos pleaded that we not drag her
into it, that she didn’t know anything, she just did what he told her to do,
and she had no idea about anything being stolen. She’ll be brought in for
questioning. The story he claims he told her was that he had a legitimate
business in bicycles and car parts that he gleaned from salvage yards when he
wasn’t at the shop.”
“So is she innocent like
he says or part of the crime?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, I ain’t never
seen her, so it’s hard to tell.”
“You think you can tell
if somebody is engaged in criminal activity just by looking at them?”
“Well, not always,
maybe. But you can see quite a bit by looking, yeah. You ever see those
pictures of gangsters in detective magazines and mugshots they show in the
newspapers when they’re caught. Ever’day people don’t look like that, not by a
long shot. Anyway, you can tell a lot about a person by how they look, carry
themselves.”
“Carry themselves?”
[light laugh] “Maybe you have something there.”
“It’s what the comic
books say, and I believe them.”
“Dubious source, my
friend, but I hear you.”
“Don’t know that one, but I don’t care as
long as you catch my drift.”
“Where in the world did
you learn such language?”
“Likes what?”
“The likes of ‘carry
themselves’ and ‘catch my drift’ for starters. Never mind. It’s in the comics.”
[laughing] “Your
evidence’s more than just the invoice though, right?”
“Well, yes. I saw the
scrape on the handlebars and knew you were telling the truth about the spinner
knob. I was certain the bike was yours—I mean a man knows his vehicle—but I
became curious about how Vlamos actually got it.”
“He took it. Bet he
drives around looking for kid’s unlocked up bikes, is how. Then he puts them in
his shop van, and when it’s dark, he brings them into his shop. He ever gets
stopped by the cops…uh, the police, well, if they’s ta look and see what’s in
his van, it makes sense ‘cause he owns a bike shop.”
“But kids can spot their
bikes on his rack, Benny, the way you did. It doesn’t make sense. I think it’s
more likely that somebody does the fetching and Mr. Vlamos is the fence. Maybe
the fellah that does the stealing, drive around all over the county, state
even, and picks up the goods, takes them to one holding place, and then they’re
distributed from there, just like the cars, which are then stripped for their
parts. Usually fences are very careful about where their goods are coming from
for exactly the reason we’re talking about. They don’t want to get caught with
recognizable property. Maybe somebody slipped up and inadvertently gave Vlamos
your bike outta the stolen bunch they were distributing.” [pause] “The thing to
keep in mind about criminals, Benny, is that they don’t usual operate in a
direct line scheme—steal something and sell it where they steal it.”
“Good crime-busting tip,
sir. I’ll remember it.”
“My biggest question is
why would Vlamos try to sell stolen bicycles in the first place? He isn’t the brightest bulb on the
Christmas tree, but why put their whole operation in jeopardy like that? The
bike shop was a cover, that’s obvious. But why steal bikes and draw possible
suspicion on yourself? It’s a conundrum.”
“Don’t know what that is, sir, but he done
it ‘cause of greed. Pure and simple. Greed’s the thing that catches criminals
up every time.”
“But he had a great
operation going for years, Benny. He was a big hub for distribution in the
whole Tri-State area. Being in a little town, we didn’t suspect anything this
big could be going on right under our noses. His basement ran underground for
half a block. How did he not ever become suspect with all the coming and
goings? I suppose it was done late at night and in small enough truck loads,
but… well, Tutterton doesn’t have but half-dozen policeman patrolling at night.
I’m sure that’s part of it as well.”
“You
never think little guys commit big crimes, sir.”
“Well,
about that, I’ll be having a change of mind. And I suppose you’re right.
Everybody knows everybody in Tutterton. We just don’t think somebody like
Leonard Vlamos is making a killing and still acting and looking like he does.
You’ve taught me something, Benny. Maybe I should take a closer look at those
comic books you’re reading these days. What ones are you into now?”
“Dick
Tracy and Captain Marvel.”
“I
should have known from your Tracy spinner knob. Glad we found it among the auto
parts. Got it fastened on securely?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“Dick
Tracy and Captain Marvel, huh? Guess I’ll have to get a talking watch and a
lightning bolt tattooed across my chest, you think?”
[Benny
laughing maniacally]
[footsteps
approaching and plates setting down on the table]
“Here
you are boys. You’re getting to be regulars. I like that. [pause] So what
crimes are you pursuing this fine night in Tutterton? Any madmen running around
in the dark streets we should know about?”
“All
locked up, Charmaine. You’re safe and sound.”
“For
the time being, Miss. But you never know what evil lurks in the hearts of men.”
[laughter
from all three][fade out]
***
