Dear Ted and Jody:
I had one of those days yesterday where things that shouldn’t be able to go wrong went wrong—all day. I did take one photo of a church being cleaned and a close up of the men up high with a pressure washer. Today we are off to Vancouver to get the Ridgeline worked on and then to Jansen Beach to get my cell phone worked on. With luck, the day will be much better than yesterday.
I trust this finds you in good health, spirits and not being beset with stuff coming at you for nowhere.
Warmest regards, Ed
008 Frank Millard is Everywhere
Fiction in 906 Words by T Edward Westen, 2017
Special Agent Fleishman materialized in the police headquarters stairwell. A second later the door burst open and a middle-aged man dressed in business attire burst through the doors taking the steps two at a time. The Special Agent listened as the man burst through the squad room door. ‘He must be going to report something.’ Taking the stairs one at a time and entering the detective squad he was surprised to see the man sitting quietly intensely watching the activity in the squad room.
Detective Philipson wavered him over. As Special Agent Fleishman went through the turnstile the man looked up and a questioning expression crossed his face. ‘Probably wonders why I don’t have a badge hanging from a chain around my neck,’ thought Special Agent Fleishman. Addressing Detective Philipson, Special Agent Fleishman said, “We have no idea who your victims are. Our lab finds cryogenic evidence. So, we are having those establishments canvassed. A lot of them never made it so it will not be easy to even find where their clients ended up, much less finding those that actually survived.”
“Actually survived? I thought they were legitimate, ” said Detective Philipson.
“They were if you read the fine print in their contracts. In addition to parties of various parts, the undersigned understands the science is not yet able to make any guarantees and indemnify the party of the other part from any responsibility for any outcome. You know standard legalese to say, ‘good luck.'”
“Got it. Let the buyer beware,” replied Detective Philipson.
“I think one has to say that in Latin to make it truly legal,” replied Special Agent Fleishman. “Anyway, there were a lot of cryogenics centers popping up over the years and the bodies most likely come from one or more of them.”
Captain Batan stepped out of his office headed toward the current incident board and beckoned for the Special Agent and Detective to join him. The man dressed in business attire who had bound up the stairs stood and called out, “Captain Batan, Captain Batan, I understood the mad magician has struck again.”
Captain Batan stopped, took a few steps in the direction of the man hailing him and asked, “Why do you think there is a mad magician, Mr. Millard?”
Frank Millard answered without a pause “You got a better answer for where naked bodies appearing out of thin air come from?”
Captain Batan said, “I don’t know about magic, but yes we have another body fitting the same MO.”
Special Agent Fleishman nudged Detective Philipson, “Who is this Mr. Millard, press?”
“A reporter for the Enquirer,” replied Detective Philipson. “He was in Andy Kellog’s cab when the first body appeared out of thin air. HE has been hot on the scene for the three after. I think he has journalistic property rights. Some we have no identifications he is unable to ask survivors what the think about their loved ones appearing dead out if the blue.”
“He would ask THAT? ” asked Special Agent Fleishman.
Captain Batan said, “Only if he couldn’t think of something worse?”
“I heard that,” said Frank Millard. “I am only doing my job. The people have a right to know, you know.”
“Know what?” Asked Detective Philipson
“About the murderous magician stalking our streets,” replied Frank Millard.
“Only 38th and Mulberry,” said Captain Batan.
Whereupon Frank Millard opened his device and started making notes.
Captain Batan lowered his voice and said “Now I have given him a headline for tomorrow, ‘POLICE CONFIRM MURDEROUS MAGICIAN AT 38TH AND MULBERRY.'”
Special Agent Fleishman shook his head. “I guess things never change. But to change the subject, Outreach Agent Jonathan Simons thinks a beacon is the answer. You wouldn’t believe how complicated it is to make something for all the time periods in which we may need to place them. But, he is optimistic.”
“Where do our bodies come from?” Asked Captain Batan?”
“Probably cryogenics’ clients, “replied Special Agent Fleishman.
“Are the 2×2 inch square holes a product of cryogenics?” asked Detective Philipson.
“The post-mortem wounds are all identical,” said Special Agent Fleishman, “and we can’t figure out what makes them. Our coroner is sure they didn’t result in death. He concurs with your coroner.” Looking at the waiting area, he asked with a puzzled look on his face, “What is that Mr. Millard is holding?”
Captain Batan looked up and said, “The SOB has a parabolic microphone. He is listening to us.”
Captain Batan waved and hollered at the desk sergeant “Get that man,” pointing to Frank Millard, “out of here or arrest him for window peeking or impersonating a human being.”
“I’ll leave, don’t touch the equipment, but you’ll see me with a Freedom of Information Warrant, you’ll see. With those words, Frank Mallard bolted for the door and didn’t stop there.
The desk sergeant came over handing the Captain slip of paper. “another body on Mulberry and 38th. This one is in a City Bus.”
When the desk sergeant turned his back, Special Agent Fleishman said, do you want me to drive?”
Captain Batan nodded yes and he, the Special Agent and Detective Philipson vanished into thin air.
The desk sergeant said, “Do you want me to call down to have them get a car ready?” Getting no answer, she turned and looked and said, “I guess not.” She returned to her duty station, nervously glancing about as she did her work.