As I departed the house I walked backwards so my footprints would indicate I had entered the house. Dang it was hard to make the backward step appear as a forward one.
I made it to the street then I walked across the road and started walking home. I was tired and stiff. Being in the trunk of a car is tough on these old bones.
I patted my right coat pocket and then my left inside pocket, and felt good that I had achieved my goal. I had gotten revenge on that fat smart aleck excuse for a human being, and her a woman. Yep, it would be interesting to see what she said and how she had reported it.
I felt good as I cut across the snow-covered field toward the store near where I had parked my truck. Sheila Lawson, ah Miz Sheila Lawson as she liked to be called, was a divorced attorney whose parents had hit it big in the oil boom, leaving her with a pot full of money. She had been called before the board on numerous occasions but had always come out smelling like a rose. Her latest one was a little dope deal gone bad, one in which she had gotten her partner life in the state pen while she had walked away Scot-free.
The kid was Jimmy Johnson, a nephew of mine, my sister Eileen’s only boy. Sheila had picked him up in the bowling alley and screwed him until he was not sure whether he was coming or going. Then she had convinced him to try and make a big score by buying coke and bringing it back to sell to the local dealers. She had pulled a no-no with a client's trust fund and was about to get caught. She had figured a big score would replenish the trust fund.
Anyway, she had stroked Jimmy and to get his part of the stake, she had told him of certain houses to rob. He had and she had paid him a nickel on the dollar for the goods. Jimmy had borrowed money, bought a car, and had gone to California to buy. He had been busted when he got back, but only about a quarter or so of the coke was ever recovered. After it had cooled down she had gotten a local hophead to sell it. She had cleared two million, the hophead had been busted, and she had been in the clear.
Oh the hophead was a boy I had worked with, a good boy until he had gotten hooked. So I decided to seek a little retribution.
Over the past five years Sheila had remodeled, added on, and done all sorts of improvements to her home. Me, oh I am just a nondescript nobody, a retired old man who is a little smarter than most people realize.
Jimmy told me he had stolen jewelry, antiques, cash and some stocks, bonds, bearer bonds, deeds, titles and promissory notes. Sheila had told him who, where, when and how to do the jobs. She had frequented them as a colleague, friend, and as some civic endeavors. Sheila lived straight across from me, I lived on the East side of the hill and she on the West. I could see her house and grounds from my house.
Friday morning I drank very little, fasting so I would not have to go. About six I drove around to the back of Grouper’s Market and parked my truck. I had a balaclava, a device for determining safe combinations plus rubber gloves, hospital pacs and a pair of hospital scrubs. Sheila on Friday did her grocery shopping, arriving at six, then going home. She had an elaborate alarm system in and around her house. She bragged that even if a mouse came there she would know it. I popped the trunk of her new Caddy and closed it.
When she came out she had the groceries placed in the back seat. When she got home she took the groceries out, put them away, pulled the cork on a bottle of wine and smoked two joints. After she put the groceries away I released the trunk latch and went into the basement. The alarm system was turned off so I went to the master control box and clipped a couple wires so the alarm system at the upstairs control box acted normal, normal except it would not work.
Her latest lover showed up and they made love. Then she grilled a steak and they ate. Afterwards they went to the bedroom where there was a hot tub. Her three little yapping dogs did not like the latest lover, a radio DJ, so she would put them in her den and turn on the TV. They were happy while she played.
Being in the basement I could hear all that was said and all that was going on. When they got high and were tired, I took a container of knockout gas and quietly made a small hole in the heating duct for the bedroom and for the den. I turned on the gas and waited.
After about 30 minutes I banged on the heat duct and there was no response from the dogs or the people. I put on my respirator and went upstairs. I went to her study, found the safe and opened it with this neat little device where you just turn the tumbler and it will tell you the combination. Oh it was a treasure trove. I cleaned it out lock stock and barrel, taking the money and jewels along with the treasury notes and bearer bonds. I put the rest of the stuff in a plastic trash bag.
I then found a four-drawer filing cabinet with a lock on it. I opened it, found the drugs and put them in a plastic bag. There were about twenty small packages of coke that I put in sandwich bags for another task.
Next I went into the bedroom. She was lying in the floor dead to the world. I put the small packages in some of her clothes and some in her top dresser drawer. I got a razor and shaved her pubic area, then I gave her a shot to keep her out. On her lower stomach I tattooed the hophead’s name, “Henry Moses.”
I found her purse and took her cell phone, all of her credit cards and then I found her cash stash and took it. She would remain out for about six or eight hours but the dogs and hophead would wake within the hour. I pulled a few more nasties then I went to the safe and took the plate off the back of the inside of the door. I sprinkled coke around inside, then poured two tubes of superglue on the tumblers, put the plate back, closed the door and spun the dial, placing it on the number it was on when I opened it.
Next I took little packages and sprinkled in under the floor mats down in the seat and under the back seat of her car and the same for his. I opened the bedroom door and the den door and turned off the heat. I wrote down her telephone number and turned up the ringers on all the phones in the house.
I figured I was about done, so I took the garbage sack, the large one and put it in the bottom of the trash can. Then I removed the scrub outfit and scuffs and put on my coat and hat. I stuffed the other stuff in my coat and opened the front door. I looked about. When I saw no one was around I turned around and started backing toward the street. I felt good.
When I got home, I called her number. I let it ring as I walked outside around the house and looked at her house. Then I heard the dogs yapping and heard what sounded like some gunshots. Soon I heard a car and saw the hophead driving off. I waited about thirty seconds and then I dialed 911.
I said nothing as the operator asked for information. I said, “Fire, fire!” and turned off the phone. I knew the caller ID would identify the location so I threw her cordless phone in a paint bucket and put the top on.
It wasn't long before I heard the sirens, first the Sheriff’s department and then the fire truck. I could not hear anything for all of the vehicles.
The fire truck rolled up its hoses and departed as the Command fire vehicle stayed along with the police. As soon as the neighbors began to come out and mill around, I joined them and took the garbage bag out of the trash can. I set the paint bucket in it and then leisurely talked to a neighbor and moseyed home.
I did not think she would allow them to take her to the hospital because she knew it would show dope in her system. In about a half hour I saw the state crime lab van drive in and two men get out and enter the house. I went back inside to look at my swag.
There was a whole lot of cash, plus jewelry, stocks, bonds and bearer bonds. I took the other stuff along with the swag and put it in a cardboard box up on a high shelf in the barn. My clothes and rubber gloves went in a laundry detergent soap box that I then put in the dumpster. I went to bed. I was tired.
The local radio station and Television stations had a field day. Local attorney, 48 attacked by doper, she claimed. State crime lab found cocaine and marijuana in the house. The lover, a 17 year old construction laborer, says they were lovers and he was there for dinner, dope and sex. Oh they had a field day as everyone who disliked Sheila Lawson took pot shots.
Monday morning the news was all about local attorney Sheila Lawson and her dope. The coke was matched to what they had busted Jimmy with. They had found two kilos of coke in the trunk of her car and evidence of coke in her car and on her clothes.
The parade of complaints filed against Miz Lawson by clients who had been not treated properly grew. She skipped town and was caught crossing the border in El Paso.
None of this helped Jimmy but he did get a big kick out of it. The money was donated to different worthwhile charities. The money in a simple white envelope with no return address. The jewelry was dropped into different charitable collection boxes. The stocks and bonds that are traceable were mailed to the ARC and the others are still on the shelf in my barn. When Jimmy gets out he will get them to start a new life or when I die whomever finds them can do what they wish with them.