Date: Thu, 29 Sep 2005 08:21:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Farrell Mc Nulty Subject: Detectives Log - Chapter Nineteen - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy This is Detectives Log, Chapter Nineteen - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy CHAPTER NINETEEN - Busted, Bound, Bamboozled Boy EDDIE - I scooted it out to the front area, Chesterton comes up a couple of minutes later. "Hey, Eddie". I'm as nonchalant as I can be, under the circumstances. I'm a little flushed from my little escape, I'll write it off as either bein' a diabetic or asthma or somethin'. "Hey, there, what can I do for ya?" ""Well, I was wondering if you could help with something as we close up. I'd like it if you were to deposit the day's take." "Sure, no problem." "Good, we got the envelopes here, bank's right down the block, there's a 24-hour deposit box, just toss it in there." As Chesterton was showin' me the ropes, I notice he just took a handful of cash, stuck it in the envelope and filled it out. Then, he grabbed the rest of the cash and was walkin' toward the back. So, I follow him, knowin' full well he's up to somethin', but makin' like it's part of the job I need to learn. I do the naive thing pretty well. Fools 'em all. So, anyways, Chesterton is kinda surprised I follow him. "Oh, I just thought this was part of closin' ", I said. "It is, in a matter of speaking." Thinkin' about it for a sec, he says, "oh. okay, what the hell, I'll tell ya - we stash some what is termed as petty cash, just for day to day stuff. It also helps on the tax return if we don't deposit everything. We gotta keep a bit of scratch for ourselves, too, you know." Holy handouts, I think to myself, so that's why he pays me in cash every day. "But, is that legal, I mean, wouldn't the feds catch up to ya?" "Hey, what the hell are you, some kinda cop? HA! Is it legal, he asks me. You really doubt the hand that feeds you, don't you?" I get all flustered and crap, "no, no, I was just askin'! I ain't no fed! Honest!" I plead, hoping he wouldn't smack the crap outta me and somehow bust my wire. Then, I'd really be hosed. Chesterton gets his act together, "sorry, kid, didn't mean to get so jumpy. You're a good kid..." "TALK TO YA, CHESTERTON, NOW!" It's the creepy partner. Chesterton runs over with the petty cash to his office. I gotta call Mike, but the phone rings, "too bad ya gotta quit after bein' promoted and all." "I don't getcha." "We got enough on this crumb, not only did he schtump his partner over, but he's a tax dodge to boot. Sweet, sweet stuff." I laugh and kinda whisper, "boy am I glad you called. It was gettin' a little - OW - dammit!" "Eddie, what's the matter?" "Aw, nothin' just a crick in my neck, I guess." I reach up to rub the back of my neck as I'm talkin', but I feel somethin'. Then I start to weaken. I panic, "aw, man, this ain't no crick - I think - - it's a - - DART!" BAM! I hit the floor, I can hear the boss man screamin' from the phone! I told the kid the jig was up, we got everythin' we needed, so no more bar-bouncin' for this guy. I thought I heard somethin' up in the background, but blew it off. Eddie starts to tell me somethin', then he screams. I kept sayin' "eddie, what's wrong!" Then the kid tells me he's got a dart in his neck and he falls over, moanin'. What I hear next put the hairs up on my neck. EDDIE - I'm lyin' on the ground, I can't move except to look up, wonderin' what's up. Chesterton and his partner come in and shove a piece of paper in my face. "Chesterton, I'd like to introduce you to one Edward Robinson, loyal sidekick to one Mike Batz, aka The Dashing Detective." He turns to me, kicks me in the ribs and says, "it definitely is a dart, specially timed to keep you immobile for several hours. That'll give us enough time to lug you outta here and do what we gotta do to you." "What - - ARE - - ya gonna do to me?" "All in good time, my little pretty snoop, all in good time." They start draggin' me away and I'm hollerin' out, and getting punched out, moanin' in pain. Just 'cuz I'm paralyzed don't mean I can't feel everything. Chesterton hears Mike shoutin' my name from the phone, so he goes and steps on it, smashin' it. I'm on the other end, listenin' to Eddie bein' kidnapped and I can't do nothin' about it, I shout his name then hear some thump, and then I lost the connection. What the heck is goin' on? Oh, I know what's goin' on. I just don't wanna think about it. I put my head in my hands and drop the phone. "Oh, my God, Eddie", I cry, "what's gonna happen to ya?" They take me out to the back, get me in the back of some van, grab some rope and start tyin' me up. I keep sayin' no, no, no, then they get so pissed off they slam my head up against one of the walls, throwin' me down on the floor. Man, I cannot stop moanin'. These guys worked me over good. Then they tore my shirt off revealin' the wire, which they rip so fast they scratch me a little, making me scream. "Stitches, eh? To think I actually bought that." He grabs me by my hair and shouts, "thought you was a good kid, ya prick!" They tie my hands and feet, get out of the back and head for the front and drive away. Now with my cell phone smashed, the wire ripped out, I'm all tied up in the back with a dart in my neck, and I'm thinkin' I had it. I really had it. I start bawlin', "oh, Boss-man, where the heck are ya?"