Wednesday 17 March 2021

CHAPTER 90: The Accomplice


 If there was one person in Foundry Cove who was not putting on weight it was John Action.  Every morning he'd do his calisthenics, which included imagining the faces of the perps he wanted to arrest on his punching bag.  "You have the right....BAM!....to remain silent....punk!"

"Still packing a punch, eh Action?" said a voice.  Action turned around so see his old Marine buddy, Marcus Flex, jogging past.  Marcus stopped and the two men had a chat.

"Hey, Marcus....still doing the dawn run?" said Action.

"You know me...old habits die hard" replied Marcus.

"Do your housemates get annoyed that you get up at 5am?"

"Pah, civilians, eh?" joked Marcus.

"Semper Fi, dude" said Action.  "We should meet up soon, it's been too long, man"

"Hold you to it...gotta go, Action, but let's meet soon" and with that, Marcus continued his morning run.

Action went home to shower and get dressed for work.  There was a case that remained unsolved...the art theft at Oasis Springs.  Sure, they got the main thief but they never got the getaway driver and after weeks of chasing leads the Sim City PD had got nowhere with the case.

He went down to the lab to speak with their specialist: Bibi Stahler, on loan from the Munich police force in West Germany but an expert and fine analytical mind to consult.

"I have been looking at the various case files, Action" said Bibi.  "I would guess that the person you are looking for is approximately the same age as the thief; a young person, early to mid twenties.  This is based on the various witness reports and the nature of the crime itself: Not clinical or professional...more like opportunistic and chaotic.  This would indicate someone relatively inexperienced in crime."

"Good to know...you know your stuff" said Action, who gave her a finger pistol sign.  "I'm going to go through the police files to see if there are any new witness reports"

Action looked through the recent files and found one report from a witness that caught his eye.  A Kathy Hardin, age 26, from Windenburg, had overheard someone bragging about how they got paid a large sum of money for just driving really fast from The Solar Flare lounge in Oasis Springs to Windenburg.  It could be some loudmouth punk hot rodder but it could also be the elusive getaway driver as well.  Action telephoned Miss Hardin and asked for her to come down to the station to give another statement to him.

The first thing Action noticed about Miss Hardin was how her skirt perfectly hugged the contours of her hips.  The second thing was that she could be very specific on one or two points but annoyingly vague about everything else.

"I remember this guy...young, like recent college graduate young" began Hardin.  "Brown hair and wearing white shorts."

"What about his shirt or jacket?" asked Action.

"I don't recall those.  But the shorts were definitely white...oh, and his shoes: They were odd looking" she continued.

"By odd do you mean colour, style, size?" Action pressed her for greater detail.

"I mean odd looking.  I don't know, I can't quite put my finger on it.  Anyway he was splashing the cash around at the nightclub"

"Which nightclub?"

"I don't recall...but he was waving thick wads of banknotes around the club buying round after round and saying 'easy come, easy go...live fast and die young'"

"And what makes you think he'd got that money illegally?" asked Action.

"Because he said all he had to do to get it was drive up to that club that got robbed....The Solar Flare...wait in the van and then drive like hell once his 'friend' came out with the 'goods'".

"Who was he talking to about this?"

"Erm..." Hardin looked off into the distance trying to think.  "...this other young guy.  He had strange hair."

"When you say 'strange' what do you mean?" sighed Action.

"Just...strange.  Like sticking up, high.  Like it was glued" said Hardin.

"Miss Hardin, have you anything else you can remember?"

"I think that covers it.  But definitely brown hair, white shorts and...."

"Strange shoes.  I got it, Miss Hardin"  Action went to write up these notes but he needed something more to go on.  It was time to visit one of his street contacts.

Heading on down to Newcrest, Action spotted a couple of familiar faces.  One of them was the person he was looking for.

Whitney Crocker was a professional dancer by day but lived in a hippy commune down by Haight Simsbury.  She'd provided Action with some good information about anti-social behaviour down that way...anything that disturbed her "chakra". 

Joanna Thompson was a lady of dubious virtue.  Action had known her since he was a teenager, she the scrappy little sister of a friend and she liked to play people off of each other.  He didn't know what she did for a job but judging by the thigh length boots, the fishnet stockings and the low cut top he had a pretty good idea.  He also knew that she was one of the best sources of insider information in the city.

"Well, well, well, I didn't know you chicks knew each other" said Action, sauntering over to them.

"Unfortunately we do" said Whitney.  "I've been trying to convince Joanna here to move on; this is a peaceful place"

"A girl's gotta make a livin', doll" said Joanna.

"Don't you two give me evils, now.  I just want some information, that's all" said Action.

"And if I do, will you get her out of there?" said Whitney.

"And if I do, what do I get?" asked Joanna.

"The usual reward" said Action. "Which will be enough for Jo to move along of her own accord"

"What do you want to know?" asked Joanna.

"I'm looking for a particular cat; brown hair, white shorts...young, like student age young.  He's been acting like one of the last of the big spenders of late...oh, and he wears some kind of strange shoes"

"By strange do you mean..." asked Whitney

"Anything that seems out of place" replied Action, sharply.

"There's this dude who wears women's shoes..." said Joanna.

"Wait!  He wears women's shoes?" said Action, his eyebrows raised.

"Some guys like that kind of thing, Action" said Whitney.  "It's not illegal for men to wear women's clothes"

"No. That's not what I meant...I know a perp who wears women's shoes; busted him some time back for vandalism"

"So if I've been of help, Action, maybe you could let me have some of that sweet SCPD expense money" said Joanna, flirting with him.  Action reached for a wallet and gave her 50 Simoleons.  Joanna held the money up to the sky and, satisfied, tipped her hat to him and walked off.

"Tsch! Lowering the tone" said a dismissive Whitney.

Action returned to his car where he found that the Precinct were calling him on the radio.

"Zebra Adam 13 here...over" said Action.

"Zebra Adam 13...we have an update on that suspect. Kathy Hardin called in again...says she's seen our suspect over at the Narwhal Arms, Winderburg"

"On my way" said Action, getting the car underway and heading straight for Windenburg.

Outside of the club he met Kathy Hardin, who was looking agitated.  "That's him! The guy with the brown hair and white shorts...and look at his shoes!" she said, looking in the window to the club.  "He's even talking to that spiky haired weirdo I was telling you about"

"I see..." said Action, looking at the two disreputable looking young men in the club.

"Leave it to me" he said, going in to the club.  He sauntered casually over to the bar where the two young men were sitting.  

"Hey, I hear you're buying" said Action to the brown haired man wearing women's shoes.  The man looked at Action, recognised him, and tried to run away.  Quick as a flash, Action was on him, pinning one arm behind his back.  "Not so fast, bucko!"

A black and white was called to bring the suspect in and Action followed back to the station, where Bibi Stahler was waiting for him.

"Well done, Detective.  Now..." she added a pause.  "Are you sure you've got the right man this time?"