Case: The Kidnapping of the Scotts and Gloria-Ep.4

THE GRADE 12 DETECTIVE CLUB

THE CASE: KIDNAPPING THE SCOTTS AND GLORIA - Ep. 4

Graphic Design by: Marilyn Russell / Written by: James M. Russell

It was nearly six o'clock by the time they reached 1235 Kingston Rd. Much longer than it should have but then again it was rush-hour and traffic was moving even slower than normal. As was their habit, Kaseka continued past the location and parked Juggernaut on the next block - out of sight and out of harm's way.

Kaseka had just shut off the engine when Bridgit turned to Ramu and said,"let's make sure their are no surprises on the roof." Ramu nodded then leap out of Juggernaut and began assembling Lucille on the sidewalk. By the time the others had exited Juggernaut, the drone was already hovering above 1235. Ramu held his iPhone so Bridgit could see the screen. "Roof clear," he said.

Emma and Ramu hurried down the west side of 1235. Keisha and Janet, down the east side. It took Kaseka less than thirty seconds to unlock the door but Bridgit grabbed his wrist, just as he reached toward the doorknob. Kaseka turned questioningly toward Bridgit but when he saw that look on her face he immediately retrieved the RioRand Borescope from his jacket pocket, attached his iPhone then snaked the camera head through the mail slot.

"I haven't seen that boobytrap in a while." Kaseka said while staring at his iPhone.

"What?"

Kaseka withdrew his scope and casually returned it to his pocket.

"Shotgun tied to the door. Pretty old school."

"So we know that Perp is likely in his late forties, has access to disposable firearms, and probably isn't technologically or chemically sophisticated. "

"Yeah, a micro-switch connected to a four dollar mother board and a bucket of fertiliser would have done just fine."

Kaska grabbed the door handle, wrenched it up sharply and snapped it off. Bridgit gave him a questioning look.

"Idiots, they attached the trigger string to the deadbolt instead of the door handle."

Kaseka extended the middle finger of his right hand, pushed it into the hole then smiled when he heard the thud of the handle hitting the floor.

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Except for one dusty leather sofa and two playful mice, the place was deserted.

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They dropped Emma off first. She was late but not late enough to earn her one of her parent’s “Home Citations”. Then they dropped Ramu, Keisha, Janet, Heri and, lastly, Bridgit.

The first thing Kaseka did when he arrived home was pop a frozen Lean Cuisine Spicy Chicken dinner into the microwave and set the timer for three minutes. The second thing was to set his iPad on the dining table and press the 'home' button. Just as he suspected, his parents had tried to Skype him twice. He checked his World Clock app and discovered that it was just after midnight in Nairobi where they were working on some water purification project for WHO - or was it malaria eradication for the Gates Foundation, he couldn't remember which.

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"Hellllllo!"

Although Emma didn't recognise the voice, the tone of sarcasm was unmistakeable.

"Sorry, what did you order?"

Emma had only been at work for twenty minutes and she had already screwed up three drink orders. Not that she really cared. As a Flying Barista she'd worked at a half dozen Third Cups, each time filling in for regular staff who called in sick or just couldn’t bother to show up. And of those half-dozen locations, this one had the rudest customers, most cramped conditions, and manager most deserving the Idiot of the Year award. So, after filling the Sarcastic Customer's order she gleefully returned to her daydream. Well, technically not a daydream. It was the case that occupied Emma's thoughts. 24 hours. That was the victim's life expectancy according to Bridgit. Forty-eight hours and and nearly thirty had already passed.

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Ramu couldn't remember ever making it all the way through dinner with his parents without them fighting about something or the other. That evening it was the mortgage. So while his mother and father exchanged their usual assortment of insults, barbs, and regurgitated long past slights and personal failings, Ramu toyed with his mashed potatoes while repeating over and over in his mind.... what have we missed? What have we missed?

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Keisha had just found the name 'Rodney King' - the last answer to the ten-question quiz Mr. Spiro sprung on the his long-suffering students just minutes before the class bell yesterday - when she heard a knock on her door.

"Who is it?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's Mom dear. How's the homework coming?”

"Great."

"Lovely."

In the pause that followed her mother's reply, Keisha had time to mouth her mother's next question.

"And how's the society?"

Keisha's mother always referred to the John Muir Detective Club as 'the society' and although she suspected that her daughter and the other members did more than just read and discuss Sherlock Holmes's stories, she would have had a coronary if she ever found out that they actually solved crimes and busted real criminals.

"The society is just fine Mom - thanks for asking."

Usually that was the end of her mother's interrogation but Keisha suspected that her idiot brother had been spying on her and snitched to their parents.

"Club activities must be keeping you busy. You were almost late for dinner tonight."

"Almost but not, thank goodness for that."

"Yes, thank goodness. Well, don't stay up too late dear."

"I won't Mom."

Keisha's mom always wore a hundred year old pair of red, hand-knitted slippers around the house so her departure from Keisha's bedroom door was silent, still, after a few seconds, Keisha could no longer feel her mother's proximity.

Her Uncle Clayton was fond of announcing "Conasta!" with his Beatles accent. Just one of many in his arsenal. Janet's favourite was his version of Idi Amin, although the first time he performed it she had to Google who the dictator was.

Cards from 7-8 had been a Monday and Thursday night ritual for Janet since her parents were murdered while on vacation in Mexico. Janet was eight at the time and if an ear infection hadn't prevented her from flying down with her Mom and Dad, Janet would probably have been killed by the same, yet to be apprehended, murderer.

Janet hated card games, but she never mentioned that to Auntie and Uncle. Oh sure, occasionally she had a bit of fun, but mostly card nights were sooooo booooring!

As her Auntie shuffled the deck in preparation for another hand, Janet picked up her inhaler from the table and took a puff. Auntie gave her that maternal look.

"I'm fine." Janet replied matter-of-factly but really she was a bit worried. In the last five days she'd used her inhaler thrice. Normally she'd use it just once a week, if that.

I reeeeallllly hope I'm not headed for a session. She thought to herself.

Janet's last session, a period marked by lingering exhaustion, back-to-back migraines, and, of course, non-stop wheezing, lasted eighteen, agonising days. That session was triggered by the latest break-up with Amin, her on-again-off-again, boyfriend. However, she had no idea what set off this session, if it was a session.

"Baby?" Uncle Clayton said in a gentle tone.

"No, really. I'm fine."

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Heri had just poured manganese heptoxide into a beaker when the volatile solution suddenly exploded with a blue flash. Heri stepped back, turned, then snatched the fire extinguisher from its bracket on the wall and doused the flaming liquid clinging to the apron he bought just last week to replace the one he destroyed during the previous week's experiment with battery acid and chlorine.

The extinguisher powder had just settled when he heard the basement door open and his mother called down from the floor above.

"Heri?"

"Sorry if I startled you and Dad. I'm good," he replied as he peeled his semi-melted vinyl goggles from his face and noted that the right safety lens had cracked.

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Bridgit was reading her favourite of Holmes's short stories, The Boscombe Valley Mystery for perhaps the hundredth time, when her cell began vibrating the screen lit.

"Hey Heri. What's up?"

"Nothing really. You?"

"Nothing. So what should I do with this stud? The one I found at the crime scene."

"Gold coloured with a speckled surface?"

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After midnight, only one Barista staffed the same Moonbucks Bridgit had visited just a few hours earlier. Fortunately Danielle, Barista Extraordinaire - according to the ranking embossed on her nametag - was a recent grad of John Muir and knew about the Detective Club so it didn’t take much talking to convince Danielle to let Bridgit view the security DVD from that afternoon.

The iPhone capture of a still off the monitor was very low resolution but Bridgit sent it to Keisha anyway in the hope that she could enhance the image to the point that the license plate off the Harley Davidson parked just outside the coffee shop's front door was readable.

It was and within twenty minutes of arriving at the coffee shop Bridgit was able to text the Stud Guy's license number to Janet.

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One of the benefits of having twenty-seven years of seniority is Shift Flex, or SF, as the privilege is called in the world of Toronto coppers. So naturally, Detective Simon Rezoski of the Major Crimes Unit was asleep in his bed, beside his wife, when Keisha called. Rezoski’s terms were non-negotiable.

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"Hey Bridgit,” said Keisha, “Rezoski will get us the address associated with the plate number and a two minute window but once he and his troops show up we have to make ourselves scarce. No media interviews and nothing online. The cops get all the credit for finding the Scotts and Gloria."

·      Kaseka, who normally works on Juggernaut at night anyway, was awake when he received Bridgit's text.

·      Emma's boss sent her home after Emma barfed, a result of sticking her finger down her throat.

·      Ramu climbed out of his house through his second floor bedroom window.

·      Keisha arranged three pillows to look as if she is sleeping in her bed then snuck out the back door and climbed over the backyard fence.

·      Janet simply walked out the front door but not before covering Auntie and Uncle, both asleep on the sofa in front of the TV, with blankets.

Juggernaut, with everybody inside, was already waiting in front of her house so she climbed in.

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If there was ever a 'stereotypical' junk yard, ABC Recycling was it. Through the razor-wire topped chain-link fence that surrounded the one and a half acre lot, Bridgit could see that the entire property was littered with rusting metal, partially disassembled or damaged machinery, crashed cars, leaking barrels, filthy bales of cotton, and the rear of what must have been a twenty or twenty-five foot cabin cruiser, seemingly cut in half by a chain-saw-wielding drunkard.

The only entrance to the yard was through an eight-foot-high wrought iron gate that was chained and padlocked from the inside.

"You bring your pneumatic bolt cutters Watson?" Bridgit asked in mock earnest.

"No, you bring your diamond encrusted hack saw Holmes?"

Just then Emma leapt out of Juggernaut, walked up to the gate and studied it for less than a minute before dropping into a squat, placing her hands on the bottom edge of the gate then standing, lifting the gate off its two hinges. Bridgit was the first to enter ABC, followed by the others.

The only structure on the property was really nothing more than a shack, one that looked as if it would collapse like a house of cards if so much as a bird landed on the roof.

Bridgit and Kaseka reached the front door first, then paused. Bridgit watched Kaseka as his eyes scanned the door and frame for signs of a booby trap but after thirty or so seconds he reached out, grabbed the door knob and gave it a confident twist. The shack's interior was black and stank of turpentine and urine. Dozens of cardboard boxes, all labeled 'Fragile' were crammed the interior floor-to-ceiling. Suddenly two distinct voices shot from an adjoining room.

"YOU'RE DEAD!" said Cuppie.

"YEAH! BUT WE GOT YOUR M16 ASSHOLE!... AND A SHITLOAD OF AMMO," said Gilles in a boastful tone.

Bridgit signaled to Emma and Heri to circle around the back and cover the rear door, although Bridgit wasn't sure there was one.

Ramu glanced at his watch then said in a whisper, "Cops will be here in two-and-a-half minutes."

The light coming under the door flickered in an assortment of colours and a faint clicking sound floated in the air but the adjoining room had fallen silent otherwise.

Bridgit tried to open the door but it was locked from the inside so she nodded to Heri and Emma. The pair stood side by side in front of the door, then took a half step back and counted in stereo.

"One, two..."

On three Heri and Emma kicked the door simultaneously, a reliable technique that usually resulted in the door flying open but this time they managed to rip the door right off its hinges.  The cheap veneer and foam door fell onto the floor with a thud, sending a cloud of sawdust into the air. Bridgit was the first one in.

Cuppie's eyes opened wide, he dropped the video game controller, then reached for something under the sofa he was sitting on. Gilles however remained calm. He even flashed a Cheshire cat smile and said, "Well, if it ain't the Whuss Special girl and some of her little friends." Gilles then held out his controller, "Any of you kiddies wanna play?"

"Where are the Scotts and Gloria?" said Bridgit in a demanding voice.

"Who? Oh! I read about those poor, poor people! Kidnapping! In this day and age! My heavens you don't think? I swear we're innocent. You're welcome to look around if you don't believe me."

Just then the air filled with the sound of several vehicles pulling to a stop nearby and the muted rumble of police boots hitting the ground.

"And your police buddies too."

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Gilles was telling the truth, or if he hid the Scotts and Gloria somewhere on the ABC property he had hidden them so well that even the entire membership of the Grade 12 Detective Club couldn't find them.

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Emma, Ramu and Keisha slept through their ride home. Janet, Heri, Kaseka, and Bridgit just sat in sullen silence. Just as Kaseka pulled to a stop in front of Bridgit's house, the last to be dropped off, he turned to her and asked, "So what now Holmes?"

Bridgit remained silent for the longest time then, when she finally replied, she spoke partly to Kaseka but mostly to herself.

"The faded tattoo on the Perp's right hand"

"What tatt...?"

"J.A."

"What does…?"

"Gotta go Watson. Thanks."

And with that, Bridgit leap from the Juggernaut and sprinted toward her front door.

the end