The Safe

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MarkMueller
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The Safe

Post by MarkMueller »

The Safe
Copyright ©2016 by Mark Mueller

It was my day off and I was bored. It was one of those days where I had nothing better to do than to watch the walls melt and wait for something to happen. My name is Rhys Murdock. I’m a senior detective with the Blair County Sheriff’s department. Not a bad job, considering we’re out in the sticks. Excitement is often hard to come by in these parts.I was sitting in my Center Street apartment, which I share with my cat. My feet were up on the desk and I was smoking a Cuban cigar I had resurrected from the waste can. A ceiling fan swirled the smoke around the room. Cigars are definitely gamier the second time around.
I have two olive-green telephones on my desk, one at each of the power corners and both connected to the same phone line. When you’re sitting at the desk, they ring in unison on either side of your head. While this may upgrade the significance of any incoming wounded you’re likely to receive, it can also make you want to jump into your boots and slide down the pole.
So when the phones suddenly blasted off, my cat, which had been sleeping on the desk almost equidistant between the phones, yelped awake in a frenetic seizure and somersaulted to the floor. When it landed on all fours, it stalked from the room in a monstro snit.
I snorted in amusement as I picked up the phone on the right. “Start talkin’.”
“It’s Lance,” said a voice answered. “I got a call.”
I inhaled a lungful of smoke. Gideon Lance was my partner with the County Detective Bureau. He always called me on my day off when a new case came into the Bureau, to see if I was interested in jumping into the fray. I never said no.
“Where at?” I exhaled.
“Jugtown Mountain Convenience Store. Possible robbery. You want to come?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be ready when you get here.” I hung up the phone and changed into a jacket and tie. I had to look sharp.
Twenty minutes later Lance appeared at my apartment. Since it was my day off, he kept our shared county cruiser at his house.
I locked up and left the cat in charge.
A half hour after that we walked through the front door of the Jugtown Convenience store. Lance carried with him a CSI kit in case we needed it. A short, balding man of about fifty years old met us at the front door and introduced himself as John Lawton, the store manager. He guided us to his office in the rear of the building.
The office was a disorganized man’s utopia. Stacks of files were piled on the desk, as well as on a card table in the corner of the office, and on top of a large floor safe. A half-eaten ham, salami and cheese sandwich also graced the desk, along with an empty bottle of Pepsi.
“So, what’s the skinny?” I asked once the office door was closed.
“I got four hundred dollars missing from the safe, here,” Lawton hissed. “That boy out there took it.”
“What boy is that?” Lance asked.
“Klansek.”
“He got a first name?”
“Spencer.”
“Okay,” I said. “How did Spencer Klansek take the money from the safe?”
Lawton rolled his eyes and swung open the safe door, revealing a shelf full of cash. “Just like that.”
“Anyone else have access to this safe?”
“The door was unlocked all day. Anyone could have gotten to it.”
“You didn’t misplace it or anything, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And the money didn’t miraculously grow legs and climb its way into your pocket?”
“No, sir. I run a respectable business here.”
“Who’s the other kid out there?”
“That’s my boy.”
“Alright,” Lance said. “Ask your boy to come on back here.”
Lawton opened the office door. “Zack, come in here.”
As he went into the office, Zack Lawton’s shoulder struck the doorframe. A short burst of laughter erupted from the front of the store.
“Sit down,” I said, motioning to a metal folding chair next to the card table. The boy slumped down on it without making a sound.
I took an instant dislike to the greasy punk. His cocky, insolent, non-verbal demeanor cut zero ice with me. I don’t get intimidated.
I took a cigar from my jacket pocket and set it alight.
John Lawton glared at me, but said nothing.
“You’re Zack Lawton?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Mind if we ask you a few questions?”
“It’s your party.”
“Fine,” I said. “First I have to explain to you your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, the court at no cost will appoint one to you. Do you understand these rights?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you waive your right to remain silent and answer some questions now?”
“Like I said before, it’s your party.”
“Your old man here says that there’s four hundred dollars missing from the store safe. What do you know about it?”
“I don’t know nothin’. I was busy all day. Besides, my pops can vouch for me here.”
“Can he?” Lance asked.
“Yes I can,” Lawton answered. “Zack didn’t make any cash deposits to the safe all day. Only Klansek did.”
“You sure?” I asked, noticing a stack of bank deposits on the desk. “Seems like you’ve got a bundle of cash pouring into this gig.”
“Whatever,” Lawton dismissed. “If Zack says he didn’t go to the safe, than he wasn’t near it. Lay off.”
“Fine,” I said, wanting to move forward. I looked at Lance and then at Zack. “I think we’re done here. You can go, son. Tell that other boy out there to come back here for a moment.”
The punk mumbled something indecipherable and left the room.
“Okay,” I said moments later when Spencer Klansek came into the office. “You’re Spencer Klansek?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you, son?”
“I’m nineteen.”
“Okay, good. We’d like to ask you some questions, but first I must explain your rights to you. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, the court can appoint one to you. Do you understand these rights?”
“Yes I do.”
“Will you waive your right to remain silent to answer some questions now?”
“Sure, why not?”
With Lance and Lawton observing, I questioned Spencer Klansek about what happened that day and what had happened to the four hundred dollars. I also asked him who had come into the store and who had access to the safe. The boy explained that the during the day, the store was busier than an air traffic control tower and that he deposited cash register money at least three times into the office safe’s drop slot, but denied he had access to the safe’s access door.
When we were out of questions, Lance and I went outside to the parking lot talk in private.
“What do you think?” he asked.
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I relit my cigar and inhaled deeply. “Put a tent over it and sell tickets,” I exhaled.
“Huh?”
“This is a circus,” I said. “It could have been any one of them. I don’t like that Lawton character or his half-wit son, but their stories corroborate. With two stories against one, we’re going to have to believe them.”
“I agree,” Lance said. “That Spencer Klansek kid’s story is kind of shaky as it is, and it contradicts the other two.”
“So, what do you think? Do we bring him to the sheriff’s office? Maybe he’ll give up the real story there.”
“Yeah. Best thing to do is to take him for a ride. I don’t like it, but it’s our only option.”
We went back into the store. Zack was at the register, ogling at a magazine wrapped in brown paper. Spencer was organizing the deli case.
“Come with us,” I said to Spencer as we walked toward the store office.
“Spencer,” Lance said once we were all in the office. “There’s a problem with your story.”
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked in an anxious tone.
“Your manager here says that the safe’s access door had been unlocked all day,” I said. “You came back here three times when it was open.”
“How was I supposed to know that it was unlocked? The access door was closed every time I came in here.” His voice rose in panic.
“Spencer,” Lance said. “We’d like you to come down to the sheriff’s office with us. “It’s common practice. We need to get to the bottom of this.”
Spencer looked at Lance and then me with fear in his eyes. “Did either of you check the safe to see if the money was missing? I mean, maybe when Mr. Lawton was looking for the money, it was right in front of his nose and he didn’t see it.”
“Well,” Lance said as he nodded at me. “We took a cursory look through the safe once already. It wouldn’t hurt to and have a more thorough look.” He put on a set of medical gloves from the CSI kit, reached into the safe and removed a few hundred dollars of cash and several business-related documents.
While I itemized what was removed from the safe, Lance grabbed a flashlight off of Lawton’s desk. He turned it on and slowly shined the light across the safe’s shelf. As he illuminated the far right corner, he noticed something that reflected the light of the flashlight. He stopped for a moment, and with plastic tweezers he gently picked up what appeared to be a small, round, indented piece of plastic about a quarter of an inch in diameter. He pulled it out of the safe to examine it in better light.
“Did anyone lose a contact lens?”
I looked up, along with Lawton and Spencer.
“Zack got some new contact lenses the other day,” Spencer blurted. “Ask him.”
Lance directed Zack to come into the office. When the boy arrived, he held out the contact lens. “Is this yours?”
“So that’s where it—” Zack began. “I mean, no, it couldn’t be. Both of mine are in my eyes.”
“Is that why you hit your shoulder on the door frame a little while ago?” Spencer asked. “I’ll bet you’re only wearing one contact lens.”
“No,” Zack said. “I’m wearing both lenses.”
“Take your contact lenses out of your eyes, son,” Lance said. “Show them to us.”
Zack removed the contact lens from his left eye. When he reached for his right eye, he began to struggle. “I can’t get it out.”
“Fine. We’ll bring in an ophthalmologist to remove it for you.”
“Okay, okay,” Zack conceded. “So that was my contact you found. But that don’t prove nothing.”
“I think it does,” I said. “What was your contact lens doing in the safe? How did it get there?”
“It must have fallen into the safe when I put some cash register money in it.”
“Nice try,” Lance countered as he placed the contact lens he took from the safe into an evidence collection bag. “You said earlier that you were busy all day. And your old man said you didn’t put any money in the safe. If that were true, how the hell did your contact lens wind up in the safe?”
“I can explain,” Zack scoffed.
“No need to explain,” I said. “Empty your pockets. All of them.”
“No friggin’ way.”
“We want to see what you’ve got,” Lance said. “There’s an awful large bulge in your front, right-side khaki pocket. We want to see what it is.”
“Get a search warrant.”
“Don’t need one,” I retorted. “We can do this the hard way.” I seized my handcuffs from my belt. “Turn around and face the wall.”
“Up yours, mouth breather,” the punk taunted.
Lance and I briefly locked eyes, and in the next moment we had Zack Lawton lying face down on the floor. I secured the handcuffs around his wrists behind his back.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Lawton said. “Is that necessary? The boy isn’t dangerous.”
I glared at Lawton. “All he had to do was empty his pockets. This is what happens when someone doesn’t cooperate. The handcuffs are for our protection. His, too.”
“This is crap,” Zack complained. “I want a lawyer!”
“Then I strongly urge you to shut your pie hole and follow directions,” Lance ordered. “Now, relax. We’re going to stand you up and check your pockets for evidence. You’ll get your lawyer at the sheriff’s office.”
“This is crap,” Zack repeated.
Lance and I ignored the comment and eased him to his feet. I nodded to Lance, who put on a fresh pair of medical gloves and emptied Zack’s pockets. In addition to a wallet, he removed a thick wad of small bills and handed to me.
I put on a set of medical gloved and counted it. “Four hundred and eight dollars,” I reported.
“We’re taking you for a ride down to the sheriff’s office,” Lance said. “Zack Lawton, you are under arrest for theft.”
As Lance read Zack Lawton his rights, I turned to Spencer Klansek. “You’re free to go, son. Sorry you had to go through this. Just doing our jobs.”
“Sure, okay.” The boy shook his head and frowned. He didn’t look convinced. I felt bad for him.
I turned to John Lawton. “You made a false accusation to my partner and me concerning Spencer Klansek. It’s a good thing you weren’t under oath. Otherwise we’d charge you with perjury. You’re lucky this time.” I turned away, but then thought of something else and turned back. “Of course, Spencer Klansek may have a civil case against you. It’s up to him if he wants to pursue legal action.”
I winked at Spencer Klansek with a small smile, and then rejoined Lance. We walked Zack Lawton out of the convenience store to the cruiser. I secured Zack into the back seat as Lance got into the driver’s seat. A moment later I sat next to him in the passenger seat.
Two hours after leaving Crane’s Convenience Store, Lance dropped me off at my apartment.
“Honey, I’m home!” I called out as I stepped over the threshold.
The cat, which was sprawled once again on my desk, eyeballed me with brief bemusement and then closed its eyes.
“Ingrate,” I growled. I went around the desk, sat on the chair, and fired up the cigar I had left in the ashtray earlier. It wasn’t too bad. Just a little gamy.
“Well,” I said. “We cleared another case today. How should we celebrate?”
The cat, of course, said nothing.
“I’ve got an idea,” I called out. “Let’s go to Disney World!”
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DATo
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Post by DATo »

Very nice Mark. I think you posted this once before as The Case Of The Safe forums.onlinebookclub.org/accusation.ph ... mp;t=31790 but it was a pleasure to read it once again.

I like the humor involving the cat and the central story was entirely believable. I'm sure such cases as wrongful accusation happen more often than we suspect.

Thanks for sharing.
“I just got out of the hospital. I was in a speed reading accident. I hit a book mark and flew across the room.”
― Steven Wright
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Debby
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Post by Debby »

This is a great story!
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