Het gang, let's write a story together

[Matt Deckard]

Powers was bleeding bad from his shoulder and rubbing the hematoma on his head....

"Can you move?" I asked

--"Yeah!"

"Can you move fast?"

--"Yeah!"

"Then screw this! I think I can hotwire this thing.... if he doesn't blow out the tires or kill one of us we can peel outta here."

I Grabbed the door handle and pulled it open super fast then JP hurled himself in like a sack of onions.

"I don't think Tank noticed."

I jumped in and ripped open the collumn. Fastest hotwire I ever did.

Vroooooooom

Tank fired three more blasts and took out a tail light.

We were on the road and heading outta there.

 

[Biltmore Bob]

Tank was mad and happy at the same time. He had the money, but that worm, Deckard, was on the lam again. Worse yet he had that goodie two shoes with him. While Deckard may not be believed, Powers would. He could just leave, pick up Ginger on the way out of town, start new somewheres else. But it irked him to leave unfinished business. Now to clean up this mess a little. He found the keys to the vehicle in the trouser pockets of Fat Reggie's already hardening corps. "You shouldn't oughta have lost your head like that, ya sap," he chuckled to the headless torso. He dragged the bodies into the cabin, along with the christine in the case. He discovered a gas can in a corner of the shack, and doused the joint. He then drove the coupe into and through the cabin door, knocking down the front porch. Tank had a little trouble getting his big frame through one of the cabin's windows. He took one last look around at the carnage, lit up a Chesterfield from the pack in his shirt pocket with a match from a book that read Welcome to the Marathon Club. Stepping back from the shack he lit the book and flicked it into the door way. WHOOSH! The big man not even flinching, muttering to himself, "Unfinished business".

Carrying the suitcase full of loot, he walked down the lane to a place where he thought he might find Deckard's wheels, he was pleasantly surprised to find the sedan (or coupe), a spare set of keys were under the visor and threw the case into the rear seat. Driving out of the park he mumbled to himself, "Unfinished business, they got my new hat with them."

 

[BellyTank]

Where was Tank headed now? I asked myself, about the same time Powers asked me.
It was getting late, I checked my Bulova- 4.12 in the PM- the Sun was hanging low and hot in the sky, beating my bruised brow like a naked bulb in an interview room somewhere Downtown. Jay pulled out his Thermos and gave me some luke-warm coffee- it reminded me of Gina- Gee-whiz Gina, the Plutonium blonde, Jays Wife. I didn't have a wife so I thought it was fine to think of his at a time like this- this being the kind of time you think of your wife and all...
We were secreting ourselves at a discrete distance in the indiscrete Police cruiser-, waiting for Tank to get on the road again- we knew he'd be getting outta that place as soon as he'd got the case- we had nothing better to do.
But where now?
And then there he was, the Devil incarnate- in my Pontiac, pulling out to the left, South, with the suitcase visible in the back seat and possibly a passenger in the trunk- possibly not- possibly sunbathing at Mt. Diablo- he wasn't in the passenger seat anymore anyhoo. That stiff was on the tough end of a raw deal.
"What're we gonna do now Matt?" quizzed Jay. The plan, as I told him, was that we were gonna follow Tank and hopefully something would come together on the way...
"You got anything better Jay?", I asked...
"Nope"
We followed the crazy Police Captain for about 21 miles, give or take a mile, this time way, way back- like a boy on an outing with his Mom- I really didn't want him making us this time. At one point though we were close enough to be able to see that he was talking, gesticulating- the mad mother-lover. Much too close. Excuse my French.

About a mile later, we were coming into a small town, just a main-street kinda town, the main street being the main highway south- straight for another 20 miles or so- no turn-offs.
The plan, as I'd hoped was beginning to coming together. Another black-and-white was parked outside the local hardware store, McDills- Tank was well past the town now and we pulled over to say hello and shoot the breeze with Sgt. Dibble. But there was no breeze.
"Hi Frank, long time...", Jay jovially greeted the officer. I didn't know the guy from a bar of Ivory but apparently he was an acquaintance of Jay's and that was good enough for me, as long as he wasn't an acquaintance of Tank... After so much idle chit-chat- 10 seconds or so- we told officer Frank that we were on the trail of a crooked cop in a stolen Pontiac with a suitcase full of something and a dead buddy in the trunk and blood all over and we needed back-up. We were in a cruiser after all- the good guys and we had the scars to prove it.
"Sure thing Jay, I'll radio for help and we'll take him where we find him, he can't get away"...

 

[Matt Deckard]

Root sat at his desk, fingers scarred from all the harmful chemicals he's handled over the years. A German scientist that defected to help with the development of chemical weapons for the Allies.

After the war Root left government work and blazed his way into the soft drink industry as the creator of Wild Rootbeer Cream Soda. An intoxicating flavor that caught on like wildfire with college crowds and youth of America in general.

Not only was the drink intoxicatingly flavorful, it was also toxic in general. The deliterious effects of the drink didn't show in students 'til riots started breaking out on campuses all over the country. Harmless at first but as the chemical builds up over 55 bottles for the person at 100 lbs.

The warrants were put out for his arrest though he was nowhere to be found, Bank accounts empty and a note written in German about how Hitler was going about it all the wrong way.... demented to the core.

Every so often a dead body would be found here or there in the US with the old Wild Rootbeer Cream Soda next to the body, though this time around it was a deadly blend.

Root was waiting for a call from Tank.... a call he feared would never come.

 

[Matt Deckard]

Tank stopped right outside of the town at a nearby call box and made a quick call.

"hello, headquarters." answered an officer at a desk.

"This is Tank."

"Hi sir."

"I want you to put out an all points bulletin for Officer James Powers and Matthew Deckard."

"What do mean sir?"

"They're rotten and just tried to kill me. I was hot on their trail during an investigation. They killed a miss Sarah Hayes and ...." Tank continued to spew his lying details as the cop at the desk on the other side of the line wrote down every word he said. ..." and consider them armed and extremely dangerous, I suggest a shoot on sight order as they have no apprehensions when it comes to shooting at cops."

 

[Biltmore Bob]

There were two Police Officers in the town of Biltmore, California, Chief Art Fawcett and Patrolman Frank Dibble. Powers had pulled Dibble over in a traffic stop a few years earlier and had become close aquaintances. Sometimes Dibble would look Jay up when he came to the city to deliver a prisoner or otherwise. Gina had cooked dinner once or twice for the older Cop. Dibble was plain white trash from the Piney Woods of Deep East Texas, up near the Arkansas line. In '29 he had hopped a frieght to sunny California to escape the extreme poverty ot the deep south. He worked picking fruit and vegatables for a few years, and one day found himself in Biltmore. He had just bought a few items at the local Mercantile, and was stepping into the street with his purchases when he ran into a member of the local Constabulary who was in a verbal altercation with a drunk Vaquero. The Mexican pulled a knife on the Constable, cutting his gun hand. Not being one to stand around and watch as Biltmore's finest was gutted like a slaughter house hog, Dibble dropped his parcel and snapped the neck of the would be Pancho Villa. The Constable was no other than Police Chief Art Fawcett. The rest, as they say, is history. The one horse town of Biltmore, California, was now a two cop town.

As Dibble watched Powers and Deckard drive away, his police radio squalked to life.

"Frank, Frank, where are you, you old Hillbilly?" It was Fawcett's voice.

"Right here, Boss, Main and First Street," Frank replied, "How many times I gotta tell you I ain't no Hillbilly?"

"Alright you damn Okie, we got an APB, that's a lookout, for a SFPD police cruiser with Policer Officer James Powers driving it," the Cheif growled.

"I ain't no damn Okie either, I just seen him along with a guy named Deckard, not mor than a minute ago, eastbound on Main. Said they were after some crooked cop."

"They're the crooks, ya stupid redneck, now get after them, I'm on my way," Fawcett signed off.

"10-4 Chief," replied Dibble throwing the mike onto the front seat "I reckon Jay must'uv stepped in to a pile of horse sh*t," he muttered to himself.

 

[Matt Deckard]

Matt Removed his hat, ran his hand through his head of thick brown hair slick with mineral oil and now sweat, then placed the hat back on its perch

 

[The Wolf]

I figured now was as good a time as any to look at the clues in my pocket. As I pulled things out, Powers kept looking over to see what he was missing. Powers isn't that great a driver as it is, with these distractions I figured he'd run us into a ditch.
"Hey, I'll tell you if there's anything good here. Watch the road!" I said, reaching to straighten the steering wheel. The Lifesavers started to roll of my lap. Henry had given them to me with something else. I feel hungry. I pull out a candy and pop it in my mouth.
"Want one?" I motion to Powers and pull the candy ring out exposing a rolled piece of paper in the middle of the candies.
"I think we got something." I call , "Pull over"
The sun was setting but in the twilight I could make out the words on the note.
In a delicate scrawl a woman had written, "photographs box 127" and the address of a bank. I grab my key-ring. The third key is what else Henry gave me! Holding it close to my eyes I see the number 127 imprinted on it.
It is the key to a bank box.

 

[Matt Deckard]

He put the key in his left outside jacket pocket and said. Lets start moving.

The car pulled out onto the road.

Where we gonna go? said JP.

We're heading for San Francisco, there is someone I need to see. Someone who can give me some answers, someone on the inside.

 

[Biltmore Bob]

About five miles outside Biltmore Tank stopped into a non descript road house. He entered the dive and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. There were two people in the bar, one a drunk sleeping on the pool table and the bar keep. The bartender recognized the big man and gestured to the rear. Tank walked behind the bar and to a door that said "Employees Only". Giving a soft knock to anounce his presence he opened the door and entered a room.

The room was nicely furnished in an Ard Deco motif and was some what brighter than the dingy bar. There were carpets on the floor, and a fully stocked wet bar. A large desk was at the far wall and a chair swiveled at the sound of Tank entering the room.

 

[The Wolf]

"Why are you here?" asked the man behind the desk, his accent making the first word sound like "vie".
"Someone's on to us" replied Tank. He kneaded his hat in his hands. Not many people scared Tank but Root did.

"Who's going to help us?' Powers is asking me.
"The bank manager.' I tell him, holding up the note from the candy roll.
"What the hell is going on?" Powers is calling to me.
"I think Tank fell in with Gloval and Gloval works for Root."
"Wait, wait, wait," Powers is pleading, "Start from the top"
I took a deep breath. It was all coming back to me. "My buddy Henry said Sarah, his girlfriend, needed help. She had come back from Maine saying she saw some bad stuff. She wanted to leave the country but Gloval wouldn't give her back her passport. So Hank wanted me to help get it back."
"What about Root? You mean the mad poisoner? You know what he looks like?" Powers questions were shooting at me like a Tommy gun.
"Yes that Root. Apparently he had some new dope that was more lethal and more addictive. She says she brought back the antidote. Now save your questions 'til the end of class." I wanted to get all my theories out while I could follow them.
"Now I'm going to visit Reggie Gloval to see about Sarah Haye's passport. Henry is getting dressed, Sarah's coming over, and Henry hands me a roll of Lifesavers and a key, 'Take these.' he says 'They might come in handy.' I don't know what he's talking about, but I take them and hop a trolley to Grant. I go to see Gloval and I'm knocked out, wake up dazed and my day goes downhil from there."

 

[The Wolf]

We are now entering San Francisco. I see a drugstore and tell Powers we should go in. The soda jerk looks at us warily. We both look like hobos: we're covered with dirt, our clothes are torn and our hats are crumpled.
"Gimme a nickel for the phone," I tell Powers, "and get a couple of cold cokes."
In the phone booth I scan the directory. My finger at "Arnold, John, bnk mnger". That's our man. I dial the number and a smooth voice answers, I recognize it from the bank.
"Mr. Arnold, I'm sorry to bother you at home." I go on to explain; "James Powers of the San Francisco Police and I need you to let us look in a bank deposit box this evening. Could you meet us at the bank? No, I have the key. Fifteen minutes would be fine. Thank you."
Powers hands me the bottle of pop "Everything coming together?"
"I hope so. We'll find out at the bank." I take a slug from the bottle. The cold drink felt good: a respite from hell. We step outside and when we get in the car a man walks up to us. In a strange voice he calls to us.
"Mr. Deckard? Mr. Powers? I'm from the F.B.I.." he flashes a badge and ID quickly " I hear you have on the poisonings going on around the country. Would you come with me please?" He motions to his automobile.
"Actually, we're going to pick up the evidence now. Follow us." I start the car and Powers and I drive off.
"We're outta the frying pan now" I say to Powers while looking in the rear view mirror, "Now we're in the fire."
The patrolman just looks at me with a big question mark over his head.
"Did the "agent" sound funny to you?" I question Powers.
"Well, he sounded like a foreigner trying to sound American"
"Bingo!" and I add "How about his hands?"
I get the same confused look.
"The skin was discolored and peeling." I continue.
"Like a chemist!" Powers finishes and looks behind us, "Plus two cars are following us"

 

[The Wolf]

"Where does Tank enter into this?" was Powers next query.
"I've been trying put that together, too. He's always been on the take but too smart to get caught." Inspiration hit me, "When the violence broke out last month and it was blamed on Negro kids crazy from reefers and the commotion in Chinatown a couple weeks ago, Tank dealt with both cases. I don't know how deep he's in with Root but it's deep. He tried to KILL me!" I only realized that now "At the cabin he said he shot Jenkins thinking it was me at my home. Root knew I was going to find out about him and he told him to kill me. Instead he got his partner, Jenkins, and Sarah. Where's Henry?" Now I was just thinking out loud.
Before I coul put more pieces of the puzzle together we arrived at the bank.

 

[The Wolf]

I quickly get out of the squad car and rap on the bank door. The manager looks at my disheveled self and does a double-take but recognizes me. Powers and "Agent" Root come up to the door as I finish talking to Mr. Arnold. I notice the second car tailing us has pulled over up the block. I introduce the patrolman and "agent" to the bank manager and he graciously lets us in, locks the door again and excuses to make some business calls in his office. Root doesn't think I notice him unlocking the door again as we walk to the bank box.
"This better be good." Root grumbles, trying to sound like a fed in the motion pictures. I fumble for the key and look for box 127.
"All the evidence is in this box." I try to sound like I know what I'm doing. Opening the metal box, I find out just how foxy Miss Hayes was. The box is filled with photos of Root making the dope, Root with Reggie, Root with Tank, all of them in implicating photos. This is a much bigger jackpot than I imagined. I'm so distracted I don't notice that Root has a mad look in his eyes and Tank has entered holding a gun.
"They have picture of everything!" Root bellows.
With spraying from his mouth, Root leaps to strangle me. I drop the box to protect myself but his claws encircle my throat. Tank shoots at Powers.

 

[The Wolf]

As my face turns purple I see Powers wrestling with the much bigger Tank. Powers also has a fresh gunshot wound in his arm. Both of their guns are on the ground. I realize this isn't going well. That's the problem with playing off the cuff when dealing killers and madmen.
Before I can pass out I hear more company arrive. I had asked the bank manager to call the police chief and tell him I was here when he let me in the bank. Chief Dundy enters the vault with a trio of cops. Root drops me when he sees the bulls have their pistols aimed at him. Tank starts spitting out lies faster than an auctioneer.
"I'm-glad-you-got-here-I-found-Deckhard-he-was-resisting-arrest-Powers-was-
mixed-up-in-it-too..."
The chief calmly says "Cuff all of them." The cops step in with nightsticks drawn and cuff Root who is staring crazily, his appearance that of a mad dog. One wrist is cuffed on Tank when Chief looks down at the scattered photos, "What have we here?" Tank leaps forward to stop him and is rewarded by a baton cracking the back of his skull. "Thank you, Wilson" Chief Dundy says to the patrolman. "Put Tank in the car." he looks at Root, who is now yelling rude and uncomplimentary phrases at us. "Add him, too."
Stooping down to look a the photos, he lets out a low whistle. He flips through a handful of the incriminating evidence and looks up at us, "They've been bad boys."
I figure now he knows who's who. "Can you unchain us now?"
He lighty shakes his head to the negative, "Maybe at the station. I assume you guys have a great story to tell me."

 

[The Wolf]

Ah, the station house. It wasn't that long ago that I worked here and yet it felt foreign. It could be because I was on the opposite side of the table. Dundy had removed the bracelets and is having me tell him everything that happened. He had already interviewed Powers. After talking to him for the better part of an hour I get to wait by myself in the room again. Now that I had told the whole story in chronological order I doubt he would believe me. I wonder if I'm going to prison or an asylum.
The Chief comes back in, "Powers' story and yours have some differences."
He stares at me to let it soak in, expecting me to say something. I don't.
"But it all comes together." He finally says. The funny thing is the differences help the validity if two suspects tell exactly the same story it means they agreed to tell it that way and are probably lying.
"We're sending some guys up to cabin, we've already been to your address so after you fill out some paperwork you can go. We'll probably call on you later when more questions pop up. You are free to go."
He opens the door for me, "You know Tank never was any damn good."

 

[scotrace]

This was also fun.

 

[The Wolf]

Weird, it seems to be missing the very first post.
That was fun.

Sincerely,
The Wolf

 

[BellyTank]

I can barely remember writing that stuff...
Makes for laffs.

Has someone edit the whole thread, in the last 3 years...?

Seems a little different.


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