[Lady Justice 07] - Lady Justice and the Vigilante Read online

  Finally, the captain said, “Officer Wilson, do you find the topic I’m discussing this morning amusing?”

  “Uhhh --- no, Captain --- Sorry.”

  The fact that Ox and Judy were dating was common knowledge in the squad.

  Dooley couldn’t resist. “Captain, I think I might have the answer. I’m guessing that Ox finally dipped his wick.”

  Instantly, all eyes turned to Judy.

  You could see the disgust on her face. “What? Are we in high school here? And Dooley, I wouldn’t be mouthing off if I were you. The word on the street is that you don’t have enough wick to dip. All hat and no cattle if you know what I mean.”

  Dooley shut his mouth and slumped down in his chair amid the hoots and jeers of the squad.

  The captain restored order. “If we could please get back to the matter at hand. Officer Wilson, please try to focus.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Ox did his best to keep a straight face, but every few minutes I could see the smile creep back on his lips.

  It was obvious that his thoughts were elsewhere.

  In the days that followed, Ed and I became good friends standing side-by-side, spooning glop on people’s plates.

  One particular conversation revealed what a small world it really is.

  “So Ed, I’m guessing you’re retired now.”

  “Yep, about three years now. My wife and I had one year of retirement together before she passed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. I miss her a lot.”

  I couldn’t imagine what my life would be without Maggie.

  Ed took a long look at me.

  “Something about you is really familiar. I feel like we’ve met before.”

  “You know, I’ve had the same feeling.”

  “You don’t happen to have a sister, do you? I recently met a woman that has a remarkable family resemblance.”

  “No,” I replied, “I’m an only child. Well, actually I have a half-brother that I’ve only met once, but that’s another story.

  “What did you do before you retired?”

  “I was a builder. Jacobs Homes.”

  “No! Really? You were the guy who built Blue Parkway Hills?”

  “You know that subdivision?”

  “Heck, yes! I was a Realtor for thirty years. Small world! I worked here in the city, but I certainly knew about Parkway Hills. That was a bold move, buying that land before the road was in.”

  “Yeah, it worked out pretty well. I was lucky. I got out just before the real estate bubble burst.”

  “Maybe that’s where we’ve seen one another,” I said. “Over the years, we’ve no doubt attended some of the same realtor functions.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right.”

  “So what keeps you busy these days?”

  “Not a whole lot. After my wife died, I just kind of hung around the house and watched a lot of TV. I could see my health deteriorating so I decided to do something about it.

  “I joined the YMCA and I work out there a few times a week and I’m attending a karate class for old farts. I’ve actually got a yellow belt.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Not really, but it keeps me off the street. And, of course, I come here a lot.”

  I did notice that Ed was pretty fit for a guy our age.

  “I noticed you said, ‘I was a realtor’. So you’re retired too?”

  “From real estate. Maggie is still with City Wide Realty and she loves it.”

  “So what occupies your time?”

  “Actually, I’m a cop. About two years now.”

  Ed nearly dropped his serving spoon.

  When he regained his composure, “I’m not trying to get personal, but how does a guy your age get to be a cop?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Hey, I’ve got all afternoon and I’m all ears.”

  So I spent the next hour telling him about getting started with the Civilian Police Patrol and with the help of my partner, Ox, a lot of good luck and the blessings of a Higher Power, I was eventually accepted as a regular officer.

  He was fascinated by my story. It’s not every day you meet a sixty-seven year old rookie cop.

  “So this vigilante thing must be keeping you pretty busy,” he said.

  “You have no idea. I’ve actually seen the guy, at least the back of his head. My partner and I were at the spook house the night he whacked LeShawn Grimes.”

  I thought about telling Ed about the hospital incident, but that would have meant revealing that my alter-ego was a cross-dressing candy striper named Fanny Merkle.

  I decided it was a bit too early in our relationship for that.

  Ed Jacobs smiled.

  “Small world, indeed!”

  The big day finally arrived.

  We were all up before dawn and were eager to get to the dining hall and do our part.

  The logistics of what was about to happen were staggering.

  Before it was all over, a hundred and thirty turkeys would be baked, twenty-two gallons of gravy would be made (with absolutely no Aunt Jemima flour) and fourteen hundred dinner rolls would be served to four hundred people in the dining room and to another nine hundred elderly and homebound folks that couldn’t make it in.

  All this would be done with over three hundred volunteers.

  They had been doing this for years and everything ran like clockwork.

  We each took our assigned places and when the doors opened at eleven o’clock and the hungry masses invaded the dining room, we were ready.

  It was interesting to watch the faces of the people as they made their way down the line.

  The majority were obviously grateful for what was being provided for them and they thanked each one of us profusely.

  Others were withdrawn and sullen, probably cursing whatever forces in the universe had dealt them their current lot in life.

  When the line had finally dwindled to a trickle and the fed were soaking up the last bit of warmth before going back out on the street to face another cold night, a familiar figure climbed up on a small stage in the back of the room.

  My heart skipped a beat when I saw that it was Jerry, and someone had given him a microphone!

  Jerry, as you might have surmised, fancied himself the next coming of Rodney Dangerfield.

  He was a regular at amateur night at the local comedy club and was used to performing onstage, but sharing yucks with a crowd that had come there to laugh was a whole lot different than a room full of the homeless.

  This was bound to be a tough crowd.

  I held my breath as Jerry spoke.

  “In my wildest imagination, I could never understand what it is like to be in your shoes.

  “Whatever the circumstances that brought you to this point in your life, I applaud you for not giving up the fight.

  “There is an old saying that if life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

  “The other choice is to chew on the bitter rind and be a sourpuss.

  “What I have discovered is that those who choose to make lemonade are generally a happier lot.

  “One way to make that lemonade is to laugh --- to find the humor in your circumstances --- and there always is humor if you will look for it.

  “By laughing in its’ face, you take away its’ power over you.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This wasn’t the lame, goofy Jerry I was used to.

  He continued, “So, if you’re ready to poke some fun at whatever it was that brought you here today, so am I.

  “The first thing I want to do is thank all the fine folks that made this wonderful meal possible today. Let’s give them a hand.”

  Everybody clapped and cheered.

  “It’s certainly better than one Thanksgiving I remember as a kid. We were so poor that when the wolf came to the door, we killed it and ate it!”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the room, then, suddenly, from the back of the room, so
me guy bellowed, “That’s hilarious! I love this guy!”

  The room filled with laughter.

  “I knew a kid that was so poor all he had to wear as a boy were hand-me-downs. It was a shame because all he had was five older sisters.”

  More howls.

  “Any of you ever spend the night on a park bench?”

  Hands shot up all around the room.

  “This ever happen to you? A woman sits down on a park bench. It’s a sunny day so she decides to stretch out her legs on the seat and soak up some sun.

  “After awhile a bum approaches her and says, ‘Hi beautiful. How about the two of us getting together?’ ‘How dare you!’ says the woman. ‘I’m not one of your cheap pick-ups!’

  “‘No?’ replies the tramp. ‘Then what are you doing in my bed?’ ”

  That one brought down the room.

  Jerry carried on for another fifteen minutes and when he was through, left the stage to thunderous applause.

  Maybe laughter is the best medicine.

  Maggie grabbed my arm and we pushed through the crowd toward the table where the Porter family was seated.

  She waved to a man that had been standing by the door and he joined us at the Porter’s table.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Porter, I’d like you to meet Mr. Glover. He’s a client of mine.

  “Actually, he’s an investor and I showed him a beautiful home on Cherry Street. “He fell in love with it and we closed just yesterday. He particularly liked it because of the way the previous owner had cared for it.

  “Now he’s looking for a tenant that will take care of it for him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d know of anyone looking for a nice place to live?”

  The Porter’s looked at one another. “Cherry Street? Our Cherry Street?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “But we don’t have enough money for the rent and deposit.”

  Then Glover spoke. “You know, if I could find the right family, I might just waive that deposit.”

  Tears streamed down the Porter’s faces.

  The little girl looked questioningly at her mother. “Mommy, does that mean we can go home?”

  “Yes, Dear. Now we can all go home.”

  I don’t think I ever loved Maggie more than I did at that moment.

  Thanks to my sweetie, the Porter family had something special to be thankful for that day.

  The crowd started to thin and the massive job of clean up began.

  Mary was pushing a big plastic trashcan on wheels, picking up the paper plates that people had left behind.

  A couple of surly-looking characters were still at the table when Mary approached.

  One of the guys blew his nose on a napkin and pitched it on the floor right at Mary’s feet.

  Surprisingly, Mary’s first response was polite.

  “Sir, I believe you dropped your napkin.”

  I guess she was just filled with the good spirit of the day.

  The guy gave her the stink-eye and shot back, “So? Pick it up yourself, granny!”

  You could see that the good spirit had quickly vanished by the fire in Mary’s eyes.

  “First, douche-bag, you should be grateful you got a place to come in out of the cold and get a hot meal.

  “Second, you should show some respect for the folks that fixed it for you.

  “And third, I ain’t your maid, so get your skinny white ass out of that chair and pick up that napkin!”

  He got out of the chair all right, but it wasn’t to pick up the napkin.

  Instead, he pulled a knife from inside his jacket and moved toward Mary.

  “Bitch! Somebody needs to teach you a lesson!”

  I was watching the whole incident unfold and sensed it was not going to end well, but I was behind the serving counter.

  I pushed serving bowls aside and started to climb over the table when I saw Ed come flying across the room.

  With a kick that would have made Bruce Lee proud, he struck the guy’s arm causing the knife to fly across the room.

  He followed the kick with a chop to the adam’s apple that brought the guy to his knees.

  Mary, of course, felt compelled to get in her licks and she firmly planted her number nine into the guy’s gonads.

  Groaning in agony, he fell to the floor.

  Ed was on top of him in an instant and had the guy’s arms pinned behind his back when the cops came busting through the door.

  I showed the officer my badge and in fifteen minutes they were ready to drag the guy away in cuffs.

  Mary wasn’t about to let that happen. “Hold on a minute. I ain’t through with him yet.”

  The officer looked at me and I nodded.

  Mary grabbed the guy by the arm. “Now you’re gonna pick up that napkin, wise ass. Or maybe you want some more of this!” she said lifting her foot.

  The guy dutifully picked up the offending napkin and pitched it in the trash.

  “Now you can have him!” she said, giving him a shove.

  After calm was restored, I walked over to where Ed had taken a seat.

  “You handle yourself pretty well for an old guy. Looks like those karate classes are paying off.”

  “I’m not sure what came over me. I just reacted. My instructor will probably be impressed.”

  An idea had been forming in my head and suddenly I just blurted it out.

  “Last week when we were talking about how I became a cop, I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

  Ed was apprehensive. “Yeah, so?”

  I proceeded to tell him about the formation of the City Retiree Action Patrol and that I was the guy in charge.

  He interrupted me. “You are aware that the acronym for your program is C.R.A.P.?”

  “Yes, thank you very much for noticing.”

  He did his best to stifle a laugh.

  “My only other recruit in the program is a fellow by the name of Vince Spaulding. He was a high school coach and, like you, his wife passed away.

  “He felt like he still had something to give, so he became part of the program and has been an outstanding officer.

  “Shortly after the formation of the Patrol, we did some work for Dewey Coughlin, the owner of the BuyMart chain. He was so grateful that he volunteered to underwrite the expenses of the program.

  “We haven’t spoken to him for awhile, but if he is still willing and the captain OK’s everything, would you be interested in applying for the City Retiree Action Patrol?

  “I think you’d make a fine addition to our squad.”

  Ed sat in stunned silence.

  “Wow! That’s a lot to consider!

  “Let me think about it and I’ll let you know.”

  I hadn’t planned to invite Ed to join us, but somehow, it just seemed right.

  CHAPTER 10

  The winter sun had set by the time we had served and cleaned up after four hundred people.

  We were all tired and Mary was still wired from her encounter with the litterbug.

  I heard her grumbling in the backseat, “I should’ve whacked his nuts one more time before the cops took him. That boy needed a lesson.”

  We pulled up in front of the Three Trails and Maggie whispered, “Why don’t you walk her to the door. She’s had a rough day.”

  Reluctantly, I agreed, and we strolled up the sidewalk together.

  When we reached her front door, we both saw it at the same time.

  The frame was shattered and the door was ajar.

  “DAMN!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been hit again --- and on Thanksgiving, too. What’s the matter with people?”

  I told her to wait outside and I cautiously searched the apartment, but the intruder was long gone.

  As before, none of Mary’s personal effects were missing, just the rent money.

  The first time I hoped it was an isolated incident, but with this second intrusion I figured it was time to make a report.

  I called it in and soon a cruiser pulled up in front
of the hotel.

  By this time, word had spread throughout the building that we had been hit again and rent had been taken.

  As before, everyone had magically paid their rent on that very day.

  The officers took the report and when we told them that this was the second break-in, they called the CSI unit to dust for prints.

  When everyone had gone, poor Willie stood in front of the door shaking his head.

  “Dey keep bustin’ dis in, dere ain’t gonna be nuthin’ left to fix.”

  He did a quick patch job and we headed for home.

  In spite of all the tribulations of the day, we still had a lot to be thankful for.

  Ed Jacobs couldn’t believe this incredible turn of events.

  So far, everything he had done had gone exactly according to his well-laid plans.

  He had rid the Kansas City streets of vicious predators and the police still didn’t have a clue as to his identity.

  He had volunteered at the Salvation Army to get leads on more scumbags who deserved his attention and it had worked wonderfully.

  And now, providence had brought to the serving line, exactly the fellow who could take his campaign to the next level.

  Wearing the badge would give him access and inside information on every creep that committed a crime.

  He could keep tabs on the progress that the police were making in their investigation of the vigilante, and most important, who would ever guess that the vigilante himself was one of KC’s finest.

  There was no question about it.

  He was ready to become a member of the City Retiree Action Patrol.

  He smiled as he remembered the acronym.

  When this adventure began, how could he have ever guessed that he would be involved with C.R.A.P.?

  I was thrilled when Ed called and said he was ready to take the leap.

  I cautioned him that it wasn’t a done deal yet. I had to clear it with the captain and Dewey Coughlin.

  That proved to be just a formality. Both Vince and I had been valuable additions to the department and if Coughlin was still willing to foot the bill, the captain was grateful for the extra manpower.