《The Mystery of the Real Live Dead Person》04b. Den Of Seethe
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Once inside the building, Richard learned quickly that the church occupied the entire left side of the building; the right side contained the offices of all other tenants. He also saw the dimmed coffee stand, on the church’s side. Richard shrugged to himself and found the building’s directory, quickly locating Harmony’s office. Evidently, their full name was “Cadres Of Harmony”. He trudged up the nearby stairwell, walked about halfway down the hall, and arrived at their door. He found it ajar, voices drifting from inside.
Richard knocked and poked his head in. “Hello?”
“Detective Schmutz!” chimed a familiar voice. He turned to see Kelly smile and wave him in.
“Schmutz?!” one of the men snarked. “Really? That’s your name?”
“Behave yourself, Darian,” Kelly snapped. “None of your attitude tonight, OK? He’s here to help us.”
She turned back to Richard. “Welcome to Tranquility Base!” Kelly gushed. She motioned around the room, introducing everyone. “This is George,” pointing to an aged hippie with bemused eyes, “Red Sonja,” referring to a bald lady with an intense glare, and “Fabian,” indicating a clean-cut young man with a neatly trimmed beard. “How’s it goin’, eh?” he chimed, waving. “J.R.,” Kelly continued, introducing a hirsute, thickly built young man, “Darian, who you’ve met,” a callow, bony-thin young man who continued to smirk, “Alexandra—” Richard’s heart skipped a beat as he beheld a stunningly beautiful young woman with classical curves, suitable for a Greek goddess. Their eyes locked for an instant, and she smiled at him warmly. “I’m Kelly, as you know, and this—” She referred to the last member, who wore a ski mask. “He likes to be called ‘Racer X’.” Racer X made a friendly dual-finger-pistol gesture toward Richard.
“Everyone, this is Detective Richard Schmutz!”
Darian guffawed immediately. “Richard Schmutz?” As in Dick Schmutz?” He laughed to himself as the others glared at him.
“Darian, that’s enough!” Kelly scolded. “I told you to behave.”
Darian continued chuckling. “I’m sorry, but his name is literally…smegma!”
“Darian!” Kelly screeched. “If you don’t behave, you can wait outside until we’re done! Got it?”
“I—” Darian began. A sullen glare washed over his face. “But you can’t make me—” he started. Then his face fell. “Yes, ma’am.” He continued to glower.
Richard had tried to make eye contact during the introductions. He realized now that Eustace had been right about most of them. But Kelly still had a bovine look, J.R. seemed to have an impish glint, Racer X’s eyes were hidden behind his mask…and just the thought of Alexandra took his breath away. He fought to remain professional, which he decided meant not looking at her again, for fear of his heart completely melting, and a different body part doing the opposite.
“So, this is Tranquility Base,” Richard opened. “How’d you pick that name?”
“It’s a reflection of our core values and deepest wishes,” Kelly smarmed. “We only want peace among all the people of the world.”
“And that leads naturally to violent confrontations with the police?” Richard prodded.
“We want peace, but we’re prepared to fight,” George clarified. “Sometimes, you have to start a war for peace. That’s how it worked back in the sixties.”
“I…see,” Richard stammered. “Seems pretty risky to me. After all, Jaden Donnelly didn’t die from an act of peace.”
Alexandra teared up as she suddenly sat down. “Why did it have to be Saint? He wouldn’t hurt a fly! Who on Earth would have wanted to kill him?” She began to cry softly. Darian rushed to comfort her, but she swatted him away. He backed off uneasily.
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“Can any of you think of anyone that might have wanted to kill him?” Richard asked.
“No, no one. He earned his nickname legitimately,” J.R. filled in. “Jaden was a truly good person inside. Always ready to help. He’d give you the shirt off his back, you know?”
“Of all the people to meet his end,” Kelly sniffled, “he really seemed like the least likely one. That’s why this hurts so much.” She hung her head. “It just took the steam out of us.”
“Well, I need something, anything, to go on,” Richard explained. “I want to find his killer too, but I need your help. Anything at all, no matter how small.”
“Why not start with the obvious?” Sonja snarled. “We know the police hate us! They hate all anarchists! We make them look bad when they can’t keep order in their city. And not only do they have guns, but ready access to poisons, from their own evidence vault. You can’t tell me they’d be above doing something like this!”
“Oh, come on,” Darian sputtered, pointing to Richard. “He’ll never confront the police. He’s practically one of them!” He turned to Kelly. “I can’t believe you actually brought this guy into our headquarters. He’s gonna leave here, go straight to the cops, and spill his guts!”
“Yeah, man,” George concurred. “He’s part of the fuzz! He’s like the peach fuzz!”
The cell members began arguing loudly with each other, hurling accusations and trigger warnings. Richard watched this for a few moments, his eyes growing darker, then finally yelled “Knock it off!”
In an instant, the room became quiet, and they all stared at him with sullen eyes. Richard blinked; that was a lot easier than he thought it would be.
“Look…private detectives enjoy privileged communications, just like attorneys do. You can tell me anything, and you can be confident I won’t tell anyone else about it.”
“How do we know that?” Darian jeered.
Richard leveled his gaze at Darian. “For one thing, I wouldn’t get any repeat business if I did.” Darian quickly lowered his eyes.
“Come on, you guys,” Kelly pleaded. “He’s here to help us. We know we can’t go to the police for this. He’s our best hope.”
The room was silent again. “I’m serious, people,” Richard reminded. “I need any leads you can give me. No matter how small. I’ll run them all down and hope they lead to something else. Please, you have to tell me anything you can think of.”
J.R. sighed. “How about Randall?” The others looked uneasy. “Randall was one of us, but left the group recently to join a rival cell. Some…harsh words were exchanged at the time.”
“Like?” Richard prompted.
J.R. demurred. “He said he’d be willing to do anything to get back at us.”
“Do you think he would?”
J.R. shook his head. “No. Not Randall. He was just a big talker. But you asked for any leads, no matter how small.”
“Indeed I did.” Richard made some notes in his pocketbook. “Know where I can find him?”
“He runs with the Pelf Punks now,” J.R. revealed. “But I don’t know how to find them.”
Richard reared his head slightly. “Pelf?”
“It’s an old slang term for money, especially ill-gotten gains,” Kelly explained. “We think they support themselves through theft.”
“You don’t say,” Richard remarked. “Hopefully that makes them easier to find. Anyone else?”
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“What about random street crime?” piped up Fabian. “Your American cities are so dangerous, dontcha know.”
“It’s possible,” Richard concurred as he made some notes. “But most of the crime in Tucson is related to public drunkenness. Still, can’t rule it out.” He looked up at Fabian. “So you’re not from here?”
“Couldn’t you tell?” Fabian smiled. “I’m Canadian, eh!”
“What are you doing in America? More protests here?” Richard asked.
“You betcha!” Fabian chimed. “Canadians, as a people, are just too peaceful and agreeable. It’s difficult to get them upset about anything. I had to come here to express my discontent.”
“And so you picked Tucson?”
“Hey, I can design web pages from anywhere!”
“Kind of an abrupt change, though, isn’t it?”
Fabian shuddered. “You have no idea how much I appreciate the heat. Everyone else in Canada does, too, though you’ll never get them to admit it. Remember, ninety percent of us live within one hundred miles of the border. Canadians, as a whole, are really sore that their ancestors had all of North America to choose from, but picked the frozen part.”
Richard chuckled. “I never saw Canada as a seething mass of resentment, but now that you explain it, I guess it makes sense.” He continued to make notes. “So, random street crime.” He looked up. “Any other leads? Anything at all?”
The room was silent. Richard nodded, put away his pocketbook, pulled out a handful of business cards, and began handing them out. “Well, should you think of anything else, feel free to contact me.”
Sonja looked confused. “Why is there a QR code inside the magnifying glass?”
“I thought it seemed appropriate. You know, detective, magnifying glass…” Richard quipped. “Also, that’s how you find me. That leads to my phone number, web page, and…CashMo account. Which brings me to my next subject…I can only work on this if you pay me. We can start small and go from there.”
“How small?” Kelly asked.
Richard thought for a few moments. “How about a week? That should be good to begin with.” He made several taps on his cell phone. “You can decide how to split this bill any way you like. I filed your case under ‘Harmony’.”
Grudgingly, each of them scanned his business card with their phone and slowly tapped out their reply. Richard watched his phone expectantly for the high-pitched bell sounds that were literally money to his ears. But there were only a few feeble chimes. After a very awkward delay, he sighed heavily. “Well, that’s enough for about two days of my time. Are you sure you won’t pay more up front?”
The assembled audience just stared morosely at him. No one made a move.
“Fine,” Richard growled. “I’ll work with this. If there’s nothing else to discuss, I’ll be on my way. And if any of you wish to speak to me privately, just call me and make an appointment.”
The room suddenly went dead silent. The cell members exchanged several uncomfortable looks. Even Richard felt secondhand shade.
Darian broke the silence. “So, what…am I going to have to be the bad guy again?” The cell members looked at him fearfully; his face swelled with arrogant confidence. “At the risk of sounding unpopular…Jaden was a nice guy. A really nice guy. Too nice for a group like this. What if he decided one day that he couldn’t be party to our tactics anymore? I think it was only a matter of time before he got cold feet and turned us in. All I’m saying is, if any of us had to die…maybe it’s best that it was him? We may have dodged a bullet.”
“How could you?” Kelly shrieked. “Jaden sure didn’t dodge that bullet!” She started to cry. Alexandra began wailing openly, blubbering “Jaden, no, not Jaden”. Angry recriminations bounced around the room like a .22 caliber bullet ricocheting inside someone’s skull. “That’s cold, man, that’s really cold!” George could be heard saying.
Richard quietly slipped out as the caterwauling continued.
The sun still shone brightly at this hour; summer days in July were long and stiflingly hot. Richard appreciated the abrupt transition; he could feel the sunlight burning away the cringe of that meeting.
“So…” a loud voice announced. Richard turned to see Eustace, sitting in the parking lot. “Was that everything you thought it could be?”
Richard shook his head. “That wasn’t an anarchist cell…that was a toxic stew of personal grievances. I don’t wonder how one of them got killed — I wonder how they haven’t already throttled each other.”
“So you took the case?” Eustace raised one eyebrow warily.
Richard shrugged. “I had to. I don’t have anything else going on.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Eustace lamented. “Watch your back.”
Richard shuddered. “Thanks for the advice.”
Eustace pointed across the street. “Oh…I also stopped you from getting a parking ticket.”
Richard glared at his car. “Huh? I thought that was free parking.”
Eustace chuckled. “Your front bumper is about a quarter inch into the time-limit zone. Don’t worry, I swept the chalk off your tire.”
Richard smiled. “Thanks, pal.”
Eustace raised his hand, palm up. “Like, I said, good sir…you got the deluxe package.”
Richard grinned widely. His business with Eustace was already showing a profit.
He had barely gotten into the car when the phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but at least it was local.
He picked up the call. “Detective Schmutz here.”
An uncertain voice quietly strained on the other end. “Hello, sir, it’s Darian. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure.” The inside of his car was as private as anywhere else, he figured.
“First of all, I wanted to apologize for my earlier brusqueness,” Darian groveled. “I can be kind of a loose cannon sometimes.”
“I understand; it’s a stressful situation,” Richard assured. Besides, taking crap from people seemed to be part of the job. Strictly speaking, though, that could be said about any job. He wondered if volunteers had to put up with crap.
“Also, I have my own suspicions about who killed Jaden, and wanted to let you know.”
“Oh?” Richard elicited, as he prepared to write in his notebook.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed how weird Racer X is. We all have code names, granted, but that’s the only one he’s ever used. I don’t know his real name; I’m not sure anyone does.”
“I see,” Richard prompted.
“Plus, he never says a word. He can obviously hear and understand; he reacts to what we say, and can follow commands.”
“It’s odd, I grant you,” Richard agreed, “but he could just be a mute.”
“Sure, mute is one thing,” Darian admitted, “But I’ve never seen him write anything, either! He just draws pictures! And he also never shows his face! That ski mask has covered his head since the day he first showed up!”
“I get it, he’s an odd bird,” Richard concurred, “but do you think he’s capable of murder? Has he done anything especially violent in the time you’ve known him?”
Darian paused. “No, nothing out of the ordinary. He’s a good soldier, but no, I’ve never seen him take things too far. He does what Kelly tells him to.”
“I guess verbal threats are out of the question,” Richard chuckled. “How about threatening hand gestures? Anything?”
Richard could hear the moping in Darian’s voice. “No, not really.”
“Then what? Can you tell me anything unusual he’s done?”
“Yes!” Darian declared. “It was soon after he joined the group. I noticed immediately how chummy he was with Kelly. I’d been flirting with her for months, standing up for her, and doing everything I could to be her white knight! And then this guy swoops in out of nowhere, just happens to rescue her from the police, and suddenly, she forgot all about me! I could have rescued her…I just wasn’t lucky enough to be there in her moment of need! But I was perfectly willing to!” Richard could hear Darian choke up. “I put in the hours, and it was all for nothing!”
Richard had stopped making notes about halfway through Darian’s tirade; his facial expression had turned sour. “But how does Jaden figure into that?” he asked.
“What…?” Darian replied meekly.
“I mean, how could Racer X killing Jaden possibly be a reaction to your broken heart? Or, indeed…have anything to do with it at all?”
Darian didn’t reply; Richard could hear him breathing over the phone. Its pattern became more irregular.
“Darian? You still there?”
“Never mind!” Darian suddenly barked, and then the line went dead.
Richard sighed as he put the phone down. Only then did he notice that the interior of his car was sweltering; he had yet to roll down any windows, or even turn on the air conditioning. Quickly, he started the engine and cranked the cold air up full blast. The car was old enough to use traditional freon, which he could still buy if he crossed the border into Mexico, so at least he’d probably cool off before he got home. It was the only upside he could find at the moment.
As he pulled out into traffic, Richard realized he was even more convinced that Harmony, for all its lofty goals, really was little more than a bubbling cauldron of thin-skinned backstabbing. His heart sank as he realized it’d be a few more days before he could get away from them. Once again, he questioned his life choices, and the wisdom of taking this case.
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