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The Arts Festival was over, and the heat of August dominated. I was trying to arrange a week off to take the boys camping
this year. As usual, my reputation seems to take me well beyond State College.
Chuck Hardy, a journalist with the Centre Daily Times, had been renting since Harry left soon after the case of "Imprintable
Impressions" Chuck and Paul Wynn both took care of the Little Brothers when they came over to play in my absence.
It was a Friday night in mid-August when Chuck stopped at my office with a proposal.
"Bud, How'd you like to go to New York next week?"
"With you?"
"Yes"
"Who'd take care of the boys?"
"Paul can still watch them."
"How long will we be gone?"
"I need someone to check the books of the Mutual Baseball League. They seem to have had some trouble, so they want me to investigate
fraud."
"So, I take it that you need me in that investigation?"
"It's your expertise, Bud."
"Paul is going to want free rent."
"You can afford it. Just take it off your Schedule E".
"When do we leave?"
"Monday morning. I have the motel reservations."
Just then, Buddy came into my office.
"Sir, when are we going to camp this summer?"
"Maybe the end of the week. Chuck and I are going to New York on business. You and your little brothers are to behave for
Paul when you're here."
"Where in New York?"
"Mutual Baseball League"
Buddy's azure eyes beamed. "May we come to a baseball game?"
"I don't know how long we'll be there, but I will be sure to mention it. Now go and play."
Buddy ran out the door, his blond hair towsling in the wind. He joined Pete and Marty, who were playing in the backyard near
the woods.
"George's going on another caper with Chuck again!" he informed the boys. Marty was just coming into earshot.
"My Big Brother is on another adventure?" Marty quizzed.
"It looks that way," Pete confirmed.
"If we behave for Paul, George says we can go to a baseball game in New York," Buddy added.
Marty's face reddened with the thought. "I always wanted to go to the Metropolo Field."
Pete chimed in, "Did George say when we might go?"
Buddy looked embarrassed. "No, only after their business is done."
Monday morning we bade the boys goodbye for the week. Chuck and I could not take the boys along. Paul wasn't happy either,
playing double Big Brother to three boys, but he consented.
We met that afternoon in Manhattan at the office of the commissioner, Bob Matlock. Neither Chuck nor I had ever met the man.
We found ourselves on 34th Street in front of a huge building.
"He's on the 34th floor," Chuck informed. We walked across the lobby toward the elevators. My eye caught a familiar face in
the lobby.
"Chuck, Isn't that -- "
"I believe so. What's Noah Kierkegaard doing here?"
Kierkegaard, nearly two meters tall and having long strides, stormed out of the lobby before we could confront him. When we
reached the office, the receptionist was absent and the inner office reeked of conflict.
"If the players' union should think we'd cave into such demands, they'd be severely deluded," Matlock spat. "We'll do our
own investigating of the finances."
The secretary was just leaving the inner office when she saw us in the outer office. "Your investigators are here," she said
as she leaned back into the office through the doorway.
"Good. Send them in."
After we shook hands and sat down, Matlock began the narrative.
"Our league has been losing money over the past few years, and it's been the worst here in New York."
"Did you contact the Manhattan District Attorney?" Chuck jumped in.
"They've been useless because we cannot locate the source of the losses. The office blamed it on Covid, but as you know, we're
well recovered from it."
"What does the management think generally?" I asked.
"The Commissioner, Bill Lemony, dismissed our concerns. So I want you to go undercover to investigate the problem".
"How are we going to do that?" Chuck questioned.
"There's a dispute with some of our players over salary. So we need Buddy to examine the books as the excuse and cover of
the investigation. Chuck, I need you to explore the grievances of the players and sniff around the headquarters."
"What does Lemony think of this idea," I inquired. "Is he against the idea?"
Matlock smiled, "I haven't told him yet. I intend to wait as long as possible."
"Does anyone else know?" Chuck added.
"Right now, it's a secret mission."
"I don't like it, Chuck," I intoned after we left the office. "I suspect we're being used."
Chuck gave me a sideward glance as we walked. "We don't know that yet, Bud."
"I'd rather speak with Lemony first."
"We'll see him tomorrow. I surely don't want to waste an opportunity to mingle with the players. Just remember, I'm the assistant
to the auditor."
"This auditor remains suspicious," I replied. Then I thought about it. "We usually got out of scrapes before, even when I
was solo."
Lemony's office was even higher in a skyscraper. It had been in the Twin Towers, but the league had moved to this building
before the attack in 2001.
Lemony greeted up cordially, we exchanged pleasantries, and then we explained our task.
"I suppose it's necessary to review our books", he sighed, "but I don't think you'll find anything."
Lemony gave us the address of the department, so Chuck and I left for the location.
"We'd better make it look good," Chuck said as we waited for the elevator. Then it occurred to me that we may need clearance.
I left Chuck at the elevator as I retreated to Lemony's office.
I approached cautiously as I heard Lemony berate Matlock, who had accompanied us.
"You made a mistake, Matlock! What if they should find out?"
"Shh, Bill. Someone might hear us. We have to put on a show. Besides, they won't find out. I guarantee it."
Upon hearing it, I discreetly retreated to Chuck. After I told Chuck, he shrugged and said, "We will have to be more on guard."
The next few days fell into routine, as I drove through the finances of the Mutual Baseball League. Chuck went around investigating
the players.
Then I began to find some curious expenses in the books. I decided to keep my suspicions quiet until I could confirm them.
Chuck and I were back at the College Court Motel that evening.
"Bud, the players have their own CPA, and wants to see the books as well."
"Chuck, I'm finding irregularities in the expenses. It doesn't add up; The expenses themselves look too high. Who's their
CPA?"
"Let me find out who and when you can meet."
A few days later, Chuck had the information. When I had returned to the motel, Chuck greeted me with the simple words. "It's
tonight."
"When?"
"Right now. I'm driving."
"Wait. I'd thought we had to show what I suspect."
"Bud, they want to hear you out first."
So, we drove across Manhattan to another motel in the early evening. Traffic caused us to take nearly an hour to get there
in New Jersey.
Before we egressed the vehicle, I asked which room.
"Number 10, Bud."
I blinked at the motel.
"Do you see a light on in there?"
"No. Are you sure it's 10?"
"Chuck, maybe this Dave Brown didn't show up."
Chuck walked up to the door.
"Maybe I have the wrong room."
Chuck turned the doorknob, and his face changed in the dim light. He opened the door and scrambled for a light switch. By
the time I was in the doorway, the light went on.
The room was a mess, looking ransacked. Under the bed lay evidence of accounting. Chuck went around the bed and gasped.
"There's a body lying on the other side."
He knelt behind the bed, searching for a pulse. He was still down when he said, "We'd better call the police."
"Shouldn't we get out of here first?"
"Let me look around a minute."
Chuck stood up, observed what he could, then waved me to leave. He turned out the light, closed the door with a cloth, and
joined me back at the car.
"Okay, call the police and tell them about a murder in a motel room."
"He's dead?"
"At least an hour, Bud."
We drove back to Manhattan in silence, but the conflict played inside my head. I could see that Chuck was contemplating the
situation, too. I finally broke the silence when we arrived back at the motel.
"So, we continue to play as if nothing had happened?"
"Bud, you know it's the best way to solve it."
I frowned as I lifted my eyes. "Yes, it must be the way."
The following morning, Matlock called me into his office. I knew already what he would say.
"Brown was embezzling, so they fired him," he spoke in an angry voice. "I think you'll find the evidence in the books, but
I want you to wrap up the investigation this week."
Matlock thus told me how much time I had to uncover the real culprits. I left, and I went back to the office of the controller.
It was there I found a curious change in the QuickBooks. Until then, I didn't have access to the audit function in it.
It had to be a mistake -- or was it? The audit showed Brown did nothing to the books. However, the audit showed Lemony had
been using an account for sales that Matlock had entered. I looked it up, and I searched the internet for the firm. It didn't
exist! Millions had been sent to this façade over the last year, and it was out of the players' pension fund!
I checked the previous years. It had started small, then grew in services. Of course, I thought. Services would have no physical
evidence!
After a quick glance around the room, I took my cellphone and called Chuck. He didn't answer. I almost panicked. Then I decided
to send the evidence to my edress. I no sooner sent it when I felt a pin prick on my neck. I went to reach it when I lost
consciousness.
Chuck was getting nowhere with the players and their union. Matlock had told them their pension account had been losing money
because of bad investments. Chuck had given up for the day and returned to the motel. He waited for me until 6 PM, called
the office, and Matlock told him that I hadn't showed up.
To complicate matters, Paul had called and told Chuck that the boys wanted to some and see a game at Metropolo Field. Paul
had taken the liberty of buying five tickets for the following Monday. He wanted to know where they could meet and tour New
York afterwards.
When I didn't show that evening, Chuck decided to use that excuse to see Matlock the following Monday morning. He was determined
to uncover with undercover.
Chuck wondered what had happened, while receiving no answer when he called.
Matlock appeared puzzled when Chuck came.
"I have no idea where Król is."
Chuck could feel the anger rise. "Where was he last?"
"Auditing, I believe."
"Show me the room."
Matlock led Chuck to the room. He entered alone, looked about the room. He sat down at the desk, and turned on the computer.
It slowly came on, but Chuck noticed the program was missing!
"Why would the program be missing?" he thought.
He knew the league used QuickBooks.
"If I should mention it to Matlock or Lemony, then they would accuse Buddy of stealing the program."
Chuck decided to simply leave. Paul and the boys would be meeting him at the motel for the afternoon game. He suspected Matlock
and Lemony were laying a trap, so he had an excuse to be at the game. Besides, he wanted a closer look at Kirkegaard, who
was pitching that day.
Back at the motel, Chuck used the tracer on the cellphone, once he received the coördinates from Paul.
"You didn't know the coördinates?" Paul asked when they met.
"I didn't expect to search for Buddy on this case," Chuck replied irritably.
"Fortunately, I needed them when I began playing Big Brother, so I could find out when he was returning."
The three boys became concerned after they became settled in the room.
"Is George missing? Buddy vocalized that concern.
"At this point," Chuck assured. "They have goofed a few times already. It's too early to inform the police about a missing
person."
"Was there any sign of a struggle in that room?" Paul added while tousling his blond hair.
"None; nothing broken, no blood, I'm sure it was a setup to make it look as though Bud had absconded. I noticed neither Matlock
nor Lemony mentioned it."
"So the idea is to keep them away from what we're doing.."
"Paul, I found the cellphone!" Chuck exclaimed. "I don't believe it. The signal's coming from the stadium!"
Paul's jaw dropped. "The phone's at Metropolo field?"
"Boys," Chuck addressed Pete, Mart, and Buddy. "We may need you for more than a ballgame."
"How're we going to do that?" Paul wondered.
"The game is this afternoon. We'll be there with a crowd, so the boys could help us find Bud. Once we locate the phone, we'll
be more than enough to snoop."
"Shouldn't the police be involved?" Paul objected.
"We don't know whether he's alive,: Chuck noted. "If we let them know he's missing, they might make sure."
"Do you think he's dead?" Pete worried. "I've already lost a father, I don't want to lose a Big Brother."
"We don't know it," Chuck cautioned. "We're assuming nothing, but we're going to find out."
"What can we surmise?" Paul inquired.
"Let's figure it must be something to do with the pension plan of the players. It must also involve the players. Bud told
me that Lemony and Matlock were arguing over the investigation. They must have used us as some kind of coverup."
"Didn't you mention that Kirkegaard was there at the time?" Paul probed.
"Paul, isn't Kirkegaard pitching today?"
"Of course, Chuck. I just realized it, too."
"We came to see Kirkegaard," Mart interjected. "He's on a winning streak and a great leader of the team!"
"Didn't the league inform the police?" Paul added.
"That's just it. They probably think we informed the police. They denied that Bud had been kidnaped, so we have no proof.
We must use it to our advantage."
The group of five arrived at Metropolo early afternoon.
"Stay together, boys. Let's follow the signal," Chuck commanded. Then he looked puzzled.
"What is it?" Paul broke in.
"The signal is coming from the bottom of the stadium. The cellphone may have been discarded.
"Then we'll never find George," Buddy concluded.
"Now, boys. Don't give up already. Let's find the source of that signal first."
They slowly crept downward past closets and storerooms.
"Where are we?" Paul said after a few minutes.
"I think we're behind the dugouts. I've been here before in previous cases. The signal is around here, maybe another hundred
meters," Chuck replied.
"Hey, What're you doing here?" a security guard called out, sending shock waves through the group.
"Scatter, boys. We'll rejoin with our signals," Paul interjected. "We have connected signals in our phones in case one of
the boys gets lost," he informed Chuck.
"Where're those kids going?"
"Split up!" Chuck commanded. "They'll never believe our story. Maybe someone here knows me."
Chuck ran straight ahead as the other four peeled off. He deliberately fled away from the signal to attract the guard. The
shouts faded as he outran the guard, which told him the ruse had worked.
Paul hesitated because he didn't want to lose the boys, but he gave up the thought and yawed. He knew they could still contact
each other once they had lost the guard. He came across stairs going up, so he cautiously ascended to the ground floor. He
could see the game hadn't started yet.
Pete had doubled back, but he heard voices. Then he realized they were the home team players. He must be near the locker room!
He heard more guards' approaching, so he ducked into the locker room. How could he hide? Then he saw an empty locker at the
beginning of the room.
Mart had slightly doubled back. He too heard more guards and ran into a locker room. It was the visiting team! There was only
one player at the front end of the locker room, so he ducked into an empty locker. Soon the game would start, and he'd be
able to sneak back unseen.
Buddy had run in the opposite direction away from the dugouts. He looked at his phone, and it indicated that he had run toward
the signal! The signal was a few dozen meters away.
Cautiously, he approached the signal. It led him to a room. He opened the door only to find the cellphone, and it was lying
on a chair.
Chuck was wrong. The phone wasn't buried somewhere. In fact, it appeared functional, but where was George?
"Hey, kid! What're you doing here?" a voice demanded.
Buddy jumped, then turned to run. Hands grabbed him from behind, overpowering him. As he struggled, he felt his arms pulled
behind him and his mouth covered. He felt rope wrap around his wrists and a cleave gag around his mouth.
Chuck decided to call for help once he found a safe place. He made his way to the ground floor and called his contact with
the New York City police. He needed a clearance to search.
Paul tried to contact the boys from the ground floor with no luck. No one answered. Paul thought it quite strange. He decided
to make his way back to the start. Then he found where the boys were, so he slowly approached the signals.
The signals showed everyone scattered about. Paul thought they might come together. He didn't know where Chuck was.
Chuck succeeded in calling for help, but he knew not to wait for it. As he left the ground floor and descended, he heard guards'
coming toward the stairs. He ducked into the shadows.
"We're on a wild goose chase."
"We're wasting our time."
Chuck smiled. All five must still be at large. Unfortunately, he could not contact the other four. Help won't arrive for some
time, so Chuck made his way back.
Chuck reached the ground floor and then up the stairs. Coming out into the open, he saw the game was about to start. Then
a flash caught his eye.
Chuck couldn't make it out. Then he saw the flash again. He looked down on the field, and the home team. There was no reaction.
Chuck began to approach the source of the flash, but the clouds hid the sun.
The teams came out of the dugouts. Both Pete and Mart heard them leave the locker rooms.
Pete buzzed Mart. Mart answered and asked," Where are you?"
"I'm in a locker behind first base."
"I'm in a locker behind third base. We must get together and find Buddy."
"Buddy doesn't answer. Do you have a fix on him?"
"Yes. Let's get together first with Paul and track him."
"They're starting the game. Your coast should be clear now."
Mart opened the locker and confirmed.
"I'm contacting Paul because he's closer."
Pete and Mart backtracked and made their way toward each other. By this time, the security guards had left the area to secure
the game.
They were both in a long corridor on opposite ends when each heard Paul call, "Boys?"
"Paul?" both asked simultaneously,.
"I'm between you. I just came out of a closet. Keep walking and we'll meet."
They were really within a hundred meters apart. Paul gave them a dimpled smile when he saw them. They had a group hug, then
Paul asked, "Where's Buddy?"
"He ran down another corridor," Mart replied.
"Yes, he didn't come with me, either. You remember Chuck told us to scatter, so we ran in other directions," Pete confirmed.
"I did see where he ran."
"Let's find it," Paul instructed. "We should be near where we scattered."
"What about Chuck?" Mart wondered.
"He probably called for help, although I doubt whether he'd get any from his contacts in time."
Suddenly, Pete spoke.
"I remember this corridor. Here's where Buddy separated from me."
"Just like two blond little brothers, you stayed together as long as possible," Paul smirked. "Now we can use the homing on
his cellphone."
Buddy found himself tied to a chair and gagged.
"Fortunately, they forgot about my cellphone," he thought as he saw my cellphone on a chair nearby.
"I told you to get rid of that cellphone," one of the men told another.
We don't have time for that, boss," another one said.
It was quite dark in the storeroom, so he couldn't see the men.
"The game is starting. We can take care of the kid and the CPA later."
"CPA?" thought Buddy. "Could they mean George?"
Buddy felt his cellphone vibrate.
"Find me, guys," he thought.
It must have seemed an hour to Buddy as he struggled to get free.
Paul, Pete, and Mart scurried down the hall. They followed Buddy's signal until they came to a door.
Paul moved forward. He saw the signal came from inside the room, but the door was locked!
"These doors are clumsy. Let me try to force it open."
Paul slammed into the barrier, but it wouldn't quite give in. "Buddy, are you in there?" he called out.
No audible answer emerged from the room. Paul hesitated. Maybe Buddy had lost his cellphone in there!
"Let's try an adjacent room," Paul concluded.
"The door's unlocked here," Mart announced.
"Let me go in first," Paul insisted. He led the boys into the room. It was quite dark, so Pete found the switch.
"There doesn't seem to be any link," Paul noted.
Mart went to the back of the storeroom.
"Paul, Pete, there's someone in here!"
"Where?" Paul was confused.
"It looks like a blond man hogtied and gagged."
Paul leaned over the small étagčre for a better look.
By this time, Pete had walked around to join Mart. Alongside the slumped figure was the back wall. Pete found a light switch.
"It's George!" Pete shouted before the others could speak.
"Is he dead?" Paul inquired.
"No, he's breathing and just moved."
"He's unconscious," Paul added. "Let me try to untie him. Pete, can you remove the gag?"
"Here, use my pocket knife," Mart said while giving it to Paul.
Paul began cutting the overall bonds as I was coming out of unconsciousness. I could tell my wrists and ankles were tightly
bound, then loosened soon afterwards.
"Bud, can you hear me?" Paul rang into my ears.
"Not so loud," I complained. "Where am I?"
"In the Metropolo," Paul answered. "You've been missing over the weekend."
"Today's Monday the Twentyfourth?"
"...and we can't find Buddy," Mart added.
By this time, my head had stopped spinning. I'd felt as if I had just awakened after a long sleep. I attempted to stand and
almost tripped over the étagčre.
"Let me steady you," Paul suggested.
"Thanks, buddy."
"C'mon boys, we're going to try that door again."
We slowly egress the storeroom as I slowly gained my footing. Pete turned off the back light as we walked out to the corridor.
"I need you to help me force the door open, Paul explained.
"So you woke me just to help you break in," I answered lugubriously.
"Here's the problem," Paul pointed to the door.
"What're we waiting for?" I interjected as my orientation returned. I pointed my left shoulder at the door.
"Here we go," Paul stepped back and pointed to the lock. "We hit there."
The lock gave in on the first blow. I first saw my cellphone's lying on a chair. I picked it up and took it off airplane mode.
I speed dialed Chuck.
"Bud, they found you!" Chuck exclaimed. "I need you in the stands. Something's going on with the game."
"We'll go as soon as we find Buddy."
"Is he lost?"
"No, we found him!" Paul interrupted.
"Hold on, Chuck. We'll be out there as soon as we can. Pete and Paul are cutting Buddy from a chair."
"What! That just makes this case more sinister."
I didn't have the heart to tell him how they'd found me!
By this time, Buddy was free.
"How is he?" I called from the cellphone.
"He's still a bit stiff," Paul replied. "Tell me what they did to you, son."
Suddenly, Buddy became oriented.
"They were going to kill George and me!"
That phrase caught my attention.
"Hold on, Chuck. Buddy may have some information."
I took the cellphone from my ear and carried it to the back of the storeroom where Buddy had been sitting. His trembling lips
even shook his chin cleft. I put my arm around the blond boy.
"You're safe with us now."
"They'll be back after they kill someone in the game."
It hit me. It's what Chuck had detected!
"Did they say whom?"
Buddy looked at me with tears in his azure eyes.
"Only they're going to do it in the fifth inning."
I put the cellphone to my ear.
"Chuck, did you hear that?"
"I did."
"Which inning is it?"
"Bottom of the third."
I turned to my companions. They had heard it, too.
"Chuck, we're coming there now."
"When you come out, I'll look for you."
The five of us started out the room when we heard someone's approaching. Paul closed the door and hoped no one had noticed
it had been forced open.
Fortunately, it was a guard and not one of the villains. We waited until he passed, then we slipped furtively into the tunnel,
retrieving our steps.
When we reached the ground floor, we headed for the closest outlet to the game. Security guards passed us without an event.
I supposed my presence instead of Chuck confused any who had seen the others.
I called Chuck again when we emerged. He was rather impatient.
"What took you so long? We're in the bottom of the fourth."
"We had to dodge security guards. Where are you?"
"Down near the field, I am between the batting cage and first base. Find the aisle and get down here."
"Look. I see him," Paul pointed out.
I saw where he was just as the fourth inning ended.
"Stay here with the boys."
"We'll just take our seats," Paul responded. "Our tickets are for the seats near here."
We parted as I ran toward Chuck, who was at the end of the seats and saw my approach. By the time I had reached his position,
the fifth inning commenced.
Chuck was happy to see my approach, but then his eyes widened. He grabbed me and pushed me down. I heard gunfire, several
shots. The crowd became chaotic, then Chuck and I rose slowly.
Kierkegaard had just gone out to the mound. He was lying on the ground motionless! I realized what was behind the shots. It
had to be the embezzlement that I had uncovered. It's no wonder Lemony wanted to get rid of me also. Kierkegaard must have
been angry over the players' pension, and their CPA had uncovered the peculation.
Among the chaos, Chuck had already jumped onto the field. I quickly followed as we raced to the pitcher's mound.
The team doctor was already there when we arrived.
"Look out!" Chuck shouted and pulled me down.
"That was meant for you."
"No, Chuck. It was meant for us!"
Chuck was facing the stands. His face betrayed his thoughts. The gunman was leaving, and I saw it, too.
Chuck pulled out his pistol. "Let's get him!"
"We? I'm unarmed."
Chuck's Celtic countenance smirked. "Just stay behind me, and I'll cover you."
We scurried back to the stands into the chaos. The crowd threatened to snag us, but then also the shooter. We had an easier
time without a rifle. Less than five minutes, we were within physical sight of the gunman.
I barely made out the gunman when he aimed at us. This time, I ducked first, then the gunman fled. Chuck had only time enough
to draw his pistol.
By this time, security guards were chasing them. I figured it was time for me to find Paul and the boys and leave.
Trying to find them proved improbable. I found it best to dodge the fleeing crowd. Fortunately, I had one trick, because I
knew where their seats were. I made my way to the seats, and some people still were there.
On the field, the umpires were trying to decide whether to continue the game, which wasn't quite official. The ambulance had
taken Kierkegaard off the field.
I walked over to Paul and the boys.
"I guess we might as well return to the motel," I told them. "It looks as though the game had been canceled."
Paul gave me a dimpled smile, then his blue eyes opened wide, staring behind me and away from the field.
Instinctively, I yelled, "Get down, boys!"
Paul had already dropped onto Buddy, and Pete and Mart dropped with them. I had just evaded a whizzing bullet over my head.
I wasn't sure whether the rifleman had been aiming at the kids or me. I peered over the seat and saw he had again disappeared.
After several minutes, I rose and noticed that no one was near us. I figured it had been the last attempt. My duty remained
getting Paul and the boys out of there.
Paul looked at me with a dimpled frown. I realized as he that we must keep the boys away from this danger in the future. Little
did I know that this case was far from over.
As we turned to go, I realized that the egress would take some time with everyone's rushing out. The loud speaker announced
the game as suspended.
It was an hour later when we obtained transportation out of the stadium. Chuck called me with the news.
"Bud, we lost him in the crowd."
"Meet me at the motel, and I'll give you the evidence on Lemony and Matlock."
Paul overheard me. "We're going home tonight."
I merely nodded.
"I'll be back sometime tomorrow. Chuck can handle the evidence here."
Back at the motel, Paul loaded the car with the boys.
"We should be back at State College by midnight. The boys can sleep over if needed."
"You showed some courage back there," I lauded while tapping Paul on the back.
Paul returned the gesture and smiled. I watched them drive off.
Chuck met me at the motel later that evening.
"Here's my evidence that Lemony and Matlock were conspiring to embezzle the money from the players' retirement," I explained
as I sent what I had uploaded to my account the day I found it to Chuck's account.
"Here, read this affidavit and sign it," Chuck added as he pulled out the paper.
"Have you procured arrest warrants for Lemony and Matlock yet.?"
"The police are serving them now."
Then the cellphone rang, and Chuck put up his finger. His Celtic skin reddened further at the information. He gave me a disgusted
look.
"They fled, and we don't know where."
"So what are they going to do?" I inquired.
"I'm staying here and help them find those embezzlers."
"You won't need me," I noted. "I'm leaving New York tomorrow."
"I was hoping you'd stay, but I understand. I'll keep you posted."
"I must get back to my work in State College. Besides, Paul never signed up to take care of the Little Brothers. After all,
they missed the game."
"Yet they did get some entertainment."
I gave Chuck a stern visage.
"It's hardly a substitute for camping."
Chuck gave a dimpled smile.
"You're right. I just have too much fun chasing crooks."
I smiled back.
"Good hunting -- May your luck be better to mine. I doubt whether I'd find them in State College."
That evening, I was on the way home when my cellphone rang. I was driving at the time in the dark, so I didn't answer. I forgot
about it upon arrival and plopped in bed without unpacking my suitcase.
I awoke around 6 AM when I remembered the call. I recognized the number, so I listened to the voicemail.
"George, it's Keith. Joe and I want you to come to Wilkes-Barré. We have a case for you."
Ugh, I thought. I just came back from one. Do they think I'm always seeking adventure?
I was contemplating my answer when my phone rang.
"George, are you back yet?"
"Joe, what's going on?"
"My lawyer asked me to ask you to check out a place near Sans Souci Parkway and Ashley. There have been complaints about corruption.
The local police want nothing to do with it. They have no probable cause."
"I can be there this afternoon after I make reservations. I don't have any more live relatives in the area."
"Nonsense. You can stay with us. Besides, it shouldn't take long to check."
"Where do we meet today?"
"There's a bar in Korn Krest nearby."
I took down the name of the bar and left Paul a note. That afternoon, I entered that bar. There was hardly anyone there. Keith
and Joe were already present.
"Hello, buddy," Keith greeted with a hug. Joe settled for a handshake.
"Let's meet in the corner over in the dining area. We need some privacy," Joe suggested.
The three of us walked to the far side of the room. We took our drinks with us after paying at the bar.
Joe gave me a dimpled smile.
"We've been investigating this place called Hard Cranks which has a branch in Langhorne. They have a call center for mutual
baseball league online."
My ears pricked up at the name of the organization. So, I told them about the two fugitives in New York.
Keith's hazel eyes widened.
"Could we be working on the same case?"
I paused, reflected, and thought some more.
"What's our next move?"
Joe also contemplated a pause.
"I don't think we'll get much here. It's why the local police doesn't want to be involved. Keith and I want to transfer to
the other Hard Cranks in Langhorne. Don't you have relatives in the area?"
"Yes, mostly in Bensalem. What do you want me to do?"
"We want some feedback on what we've found so far and for you to accompany us to the Philadelphia suburbs."
"I'm intrigued because Chuck and I never captured Lemony and Matlock. I want to follow any lead."
Keith flashed his gelasins.
"It's what we'd thought."
"We volunteered to help because they can't keep workers there. Management asked us, and we jumped on it," Joe noted. "Management
has no clue why we were there in the first place. If they'd be that clueless in Langhorne, maybe we'd be still incognito."
"I'll make the arrangements. When do you start?"
"We begin the day after Labor Day, next Tuesday. It also a seasonal employ, which we want for the investigation of possible
crime."
The following week, we were in Bensalem lodging at my relatives. While I was there, I saw an ad for work at a call center
in Bristol. I began thinking that perhaps there had been something to do with call centers.
I began checking online for call centers, but there were so many of them. Furthermore, I'd soon have to return to State College.
By Friday, I decided I had to leave. Keith and Joe weren't happy, but I simply told them they should find somewhere to rent
in the area. Little did I know that something was about to break.
Keith and Joe came back that evening quite excited. I was actually packed to leave the next day at the time.
"Bud, we've a lead on the culprits. We are going undercover at a call center in Bristol," Keith began. "Could you join us.
"Where exactly is the place?"
"It's called Lummox. They need temps as we're getting closer to Christmas. We're due to start on Wednesday," Joe added.
"You must interview on Monday," Keith continued. "It's a temporary agency. It's rather easy to do."
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"We're there only to observe."
"My work in State College is piling up. Paul called me about it already this week."
"Give us a week," Joe pleaded.
"Okay, but you're better find another place to live."
"Agreed," Keith answered. "We'll look this weekend."
I felt as though I'd had to agree. Both Keith and Joe had helped me in various cases, so I owed them. I went upstairs to unpack
my luggage.
"Paul is not going to like this," I thought, but I knew they both needed me more.
I went to the temp agency on Monday. I went to the Job Service in Bristol, and I easily was hired, as Keith and Joe had told
me. That evening, I looked up Lummox so I could fake it for a week.
We gathered together On Wednesday the Ninth. I was assigned to train with another customer service representative, and the
routine became boring the rest of the week. Then it all changed on Friday.
The three of us came in together, separated at the start, and proceeded to routine. I was paying attention to the training
when my trainer noted, "There they are."
"Who?"
"Two managers from Hard Cranks"
I was tartled. They were Lemony and Matlock! Fortunately, they didn't notice me. I decided to play it down until I could contact
the guys. At the time, our break was still a half hour away, testing my self control.
When the three of us met, I took us away from the crowd and said simply, "We have a task."
Joe knew that look.
"You saw someone you seek."
"Correction -- both of them. I must alert the authorities."
"Why don't we grab them now?"
"I want to make sure they're in custody. If they managed to hide so well, there must be a network."
I dialed my phone and also contacted Chuck. However, as I was still talking, Lemony entered the area. Wordlessly he retreated
as I informed Chuck.
"Chuck, we must chase Lemony now!" I shouted to Keith and Joe, who went into action.
"Matlock should be nearby," I added.
We chased Lemony into the building, but we didn't see him. Keith sprinted into the lobby before Joe and I decided what to
do.
"Lemony's upstairs!" he shouted.
When we reached the lobby, Keith was almost at the top of the stairs. We chased after our little buddy into the offices upstairs.
Then we heard him fall.
Joe and I reached Keith in time to help him up.
"He can't get far because it's a dead-end," Joe mentioned.
"No, it's an escape to the stairs in the corridor," Keith asserted. "The first day I went through those doors, and they locked
behind me. I had to go down to the lobby at the other end of the building and go around to the front to get back in."
"I'll backtrack to the lobby while you chase him just in case Lemony had gone that way," I stated and doubled back to the
large staircase.
I was almost to the staircase when I saw Matlock at the bottom. He turned white and fled toward the exit. I jumped the stairs
using the handrail, but he was long gone by the time I hit the first floor.
My eyes searched for the way he had gone. How could either man be so fast? I guess he had gone toward the exit, and when I
reached outside, I saw a green Nissan come from behind the building. I had just stepped onto the lot when I saw Lemony was
driving straight at me!
I jumped out of the way, and the vehicle sped past me toward Matlock. In my haste, I hadn't noticed he had been just dozens
of meters away. I stood helplessly as Matlock slipped into the passenger side. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of
the license, then I called the Bristol police with the information. I went back in to report to Keith and Joe.
I went inside to look for my companions, but Keith and Joe weren't there. I walked back upstairs to find their coming back
behind me.
Keith looked down as they met me at the top of the stairs, his frowned dimples crestfallen. Joe looked at me straight.
"Lemony locked us out after we'd followed him into the corridor. He simply let us pass, then he slipped back into the second
floor offices and locked the double doors. We had to run down the stairs to get back outside."
"Lemony must have followed me out as I chased Matlock. He knew the building well and sneaked into the back to get his car.
Matlock had eluded me, so they must have had a plan for such an emergency," I continued.
"I'd just evaded Lemony's attempt to hit me before he picked up Matlock. I called the police, which is where we are now."
"So, what's the solution? Did you solve your case while we're still stuck?" Keith questioned.
"No," Joe objected. "There must be some connection between his case and ours. I think we've uncovered a major crime nexus
between mutual baseball and the call centers."
"There's not much else I can do except explain what I think the nexus is, but I'll wait to find out from Chuck what he's discovered
and thinks," I added.
My cellphone rang at that time. Chuck was on the line.
"Bud, your investigation in the Philadelphia suburbs is linked to the scandal here. Part of the scheme was to launder the
theft through the call center with the mutual baseball league and then through a call center there."
I could feel my smile grow from a grin.
"Would that be Hard Cranks and Lummox?"
"How did you know?"
| This is Paul Wynn, a combination of two buddies |
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