Beetlebottom #18

We Investigated Fully and Found No Evidence of Wrongdoing. 

By Mike Pearson

Fast forward, or ease forward, your choice really.

The main thing is we all need to land together on the following day.

Downtown Beetlebottom.

In.... and around the Sheriff's office.

The schools are closed for a handful of reasons. A person could argue that the safety of the students and staff would be a prime consideration.

All things being equal, there's a plethora of dead people. One was murdered for damn sure. The other two garbage dump dead men, not so sure at this point.

But, the real reason the primary school and high school are closed is because nobody was going to show up anyways.

What with all the excitement and ongoing, unfolding drama…who the hell wants to stay locked inside a big box all day?

The wild speculations and gossip, mixed randomly with unhinged theories and preacher serious pronouncements.

The flow of words and ideas, plus the friction from curiousity and calamity itself actually caused the wind running down main street Beetlebottom to blow warmer. 

The lightbulbs in stores and offices seemed to burn brighter.

The action at the HazBean Cafe was so frantic, that Lilli had to ask Always Right Rose to run the cash register while she cooked more food, and pumped out more coffee.

One of the truckers actually volunteered to help clear tables. 

He was not so secretly hoping that Lilli would take notice and maybe send a little flirting his way.

There was a bustle of HazBean customers standing outside with their coffees in hand, smoking cigarettes and jabbering excitedly.

The hub of action was the office of Sheriff Hoodsdigger Fussfutter.

The main entrance was jammed full of people, all talking at once. It sounded like trading day at the stock market… except these people traded bullshit stories and theories for other bullshit stories and theories.

Sheriff Hoodsdigger was barricaded in his office.

 Hoodsdigger was taking calls from outsiders and distant officials who were all looking for the answers that Hoodsdigger didn't have.

The one thing that Hoodsdigger did manage to discover was, a bit of background on the garbage dump dead guys.

Hoodsdigger had been on the phone with the police in Rumple. 

The Sheriff had the driver's license cards of both David Lee Royce and Billy Brown in hand.

The country cop in Rumple, sent a teletype message to the Capital asking for more information.

The Rumple cop got a phone call back almost immediately.

The man from the Capital, identified himself as some sort of “agent” that the Rumple cop had never heard of.

The agent man from the Capital didn't even say hello.

“ “ What the flaming hell are you doing making inquiries about David Lee Royce? What are you all doing over there?

Speak up, godammit.”

“ Ah, sir…I don't actually got him here. He's in Beetlebottom at the moment, sir”

Sheriff Fussfutter has him. Has him and that Billy Brown guy.” The Rumple cop offered.

“ Beetlebottom?...where the fuck is Beetlebottom? Jesus Christ, let me check my map.

“Jesus man, that's twice as far as the middle of nowhere”

“And tell me again, why are you and this hick sheriff asking about this Royce guy?” 

Is David Lee Royce in jail there, deputy?”

“ Can you at least tell me that?”

“ Well, no sir, actually uh, well, uh, Mr Royce and Mr Brown are dead, sir.

“ What!...what! Are you telling me that David Lee Royce is dead? …Is that what you just said?

“Son, tell one thing, have you been drinking today?”

The Rumple cop put down his coffee and whiskey blend.

“ No sir, I am definitely not drinking. I just talked with Hoodsdigger a few minutes ago. He said these two are dead. He's trying figure out who they are .. or actually..were.

“Deputy, we've been after that asshole David Lee Royce for years. He's been a one man crime wave in these parts. Anything bad going on, he's usually within spitting distance.

And now, you're telling me he's dead…you better not be shitting me, deputy!”

“ I shit you not, sir. If Hoodsdigger says they're dead, then they're dead”

“And you are also telling me that this Fussfutter guy also found Billy Brown dead as well? Is that true?”

“ Cuz that's Royce's nephew"

 Billy Brown has …or should I say had, shit for brains. A complete waste of skin.”

“ Yessir, Royce and Billy Brown are in the meat cooler with the other guy”

“ Jesus, man…what other guy…there's another one?

Well , yessir, the way Hoodsdigger tells it, that Royce guy was found with Billy Brown near a wrecked car.”

“The guy that got shot, runned over and burnt was located elsewhere, sir”

“ Oh my oath”, said the agent man. “What in the fuck is going on over there?”

“ You know what, just give me the number for that goddamned sheriff, I'll talk to him direct.”

It took a bit of doing for the agent man to reach the sheriff on the phone. 

Hoodsdigger was busy fielding calls from the local concerned and curious.

When the agent finally got through, he just launched into it.

“ Sheriff, this is agent blah blah blah, from the department of blah blah, here in the Capital.”

Hoodsdigger couldn't make heads or tails of what this guy was saying.

“ Sheriff, I'm told that you have several dead bodies in your possession, is that correct?”

“Yessir, we got them in the meat locker until we figure out what to do with them”

“ And , Sheriff, you are absolutely sure that David Lee Royce is one of those dead guys?”

“ It would certainly appear that way, sir”

“ And pray tell, Sheriff Fussfutter, how exactly did Mr Royce die, if you don't mind me asking?”

“ Well, uh, you know, we aren't really clear on a cause of death so far, sir. There seems to some confusion on that”

“ You see, we have several ideas about that. There was a car wreck for sure. But we don't know why it wrecked…or how come it crashed where it did.

We have some, you know…circumstantial evidence of a …well apparently a female hitman or something..a hired killer, we got a few witnesses on that. 

Then there's a possibility, I mean a slim possiblity mind you, well, we had reports about a flying saucer being involved…too. Might have at least started the fire”

“Sheriff?”

“Yessir?”

“ Are you right out of your godamned mind ..are you. Just tell me now”

“ You know what, Sheriff. Stay right where you are. Don't move. Don't touch anything. I'll be there tomorrow “

Click.

The old mechanic parked his car across from the Sheriff's office.

The crowd outside was spilled out on to street. Arms waved, jaws flapped, it was a beehive without the honey.

The mechanic gently made his way through the herd of Beetlebottom locals. 

The inside was no better, there was hardly room to move. The racket was overwhelming.

The mechanic quietly and methodically moved through, heading towards the sheriff's office door.

The mechanic tapped on the glass of the door, and then just stepped in.

Hoodsdigger was just hanging up from the phone call with the agent.

“ Whatever it is, I don't have time for it right now”

“ Sheriff, I gotta talk to you about something. It's fairly important.”

Without being offered, the mechanic sat in the chair and pulled it close to Hoodsdigger's desk.

Hoodsdigger's head was still full of what that agent guy from the Capital just dropped on him.

“ You know friend, apparently that biker looking dude was a real bad guy. Worst case. David Lee Royce…the big boys have been chasing him for ages.

This place is gonna be crawling with all sorts of fancy badges and newspaper people.

“Now I gotta try and look like I know what I'm doing before they all get here. I need answers, and fairly godamned quick.”

“ So, I'm thinking that whatever you got going on… can wait for now.”

“ I gotta go find a murderer or two”

The mechanic sat motionless and listened intently.

The Sheriff glanced down at the sleeve of the mechanic's shirt.

"Say, friend, did you hurt yourself?, looks like you got some blood on your shirt there”

The mechanic didn't make a move, before Hoodsdigger said, “ You gotta be more careful, we need you around here. We can't have you being hurt… and off work now”

“ Now, like I said, I gotta go catch a killer, so, if you'll excuse me.”

The mechanic didn't say a word.

He gently got up from his chair and headed towards the door.

“ Oh ..there is one more thing” Hoodsdigger said. 

The mechanic turned to face the Sheriff.

“ If you don't mind, can you get my personal car in for a tuneup in the next couple of days?..and like we usually do ..can you mark it down as work in my patrol car. The town has more money than I do”

“ Of course Sheriff, bring it by anytime. I'll get the parts ordered in.”

10 days later.

It's getting real close to summer.

The days are long and warm.

The mechanic is getting ready to take a car motor apart.

Abe, is all fully recovered from that knock on the head. He's sweeping the floor with the afternoon sun coming in through the shop doors.

“ Abe…can you come give me a hand over here, please?”

Abe had never heard that request before. That was something new.

Abe sauntered over, broom in hand.

“ Abe, I need a hand to take this apart, I wonder if you'd be interested “

“Sure…I'll give it a try. I don't know much about that stuff though.”

“ That's ok Abe, it's time you learned.

“ Grab that wrench from over there, it'll say half inch on it.”

“ We are gonna take this manifold off, using that wrench, ok?”

“Sure, sounds good”

“ Now, Abe, listen up. There's a way you do things. There's rules to go by.”

“ When you put the wrench on that bolt, you are gonna pull like this. Lefty loosey…to undo a bolt. And…righty tighty…this way…to tighten up a bolt.

Lefty loosey…righty tighty. Ok?”

“And Abe…so that's a good rule to start with. But .. remember too…there's always exceptions to rules.

There's rules for all sorts of things…and somewhere, somehow, there's always an exception.