Read Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius Online

Authors: Grant Fieldgrove

Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius (14 page)

“Okay guys,” Mulroney said, “I’m going to need more than this, here.”

“Oh there is more,” Elise replied.

“Much more,” I added, rather over-dramatically. I fast forwarded to 7:25am on the video and the doors open again. This time our suspect steps off. “Here he is. You see his suitcase?”

“Yes.”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure our victim is shoved in there.”

“I’ve seen this video a hundred times. How do you know? Look at the size of that suitcase. She’s not in there. There’s no way.”

“There’s more.”

“Besides,” he continued, “this fatfuck just walks out of the elevator and straight to a slot machine. This is not something I would be doing if I had a woman stuffed in my suitcase.”

“I agree,” I said. “We thought the same thing, too. That’s why we were so quick to dismiss him. I probably still wouldn’t have given him another thought had something not happened back home. Here, watch.” The video continued to play. Our suspect sat at a slot machine for a few minutes then stood up again to leave. “You watching?”

“I’m watching.”

“Here he goes heading for the exit.”

“Okay…”

“Here it comes.” On the screen, our suspect’s suitcase tips over as he is exiting the building. “Kaboom!” I yell. I paused the video just as the doorman is bending over to pick up the case.

“Kaboom?” Mulroney asks, rather confused. “Kaboom what? What happened?”

I tap the screen again. “Here. Right here. You see this?”

Mulroney leaned in, squinting. “What? What am I looking at?”

I run my finger in a horizontal line across the bottom of the screen, tracing the lines of the automatic door’s runner. “This.”

“The door tracks?”

“Correctimundo! The door tracks. Look. Every other asshole with a suitcase on wheels walks right out the door with no problems whatsoever. Except this guy. Except this asshole right here.”

Mulroney still looked puzzled. I turned towards Elise and watched her smile grow wide. She was convinced. I pressed on.

“I was setting up the stage for my little nephews Christmas program yesterday. They had the entire bunch of set pieces on these flat little four-wheeled dollies. It was my job to wheel the dollies out and set up the stage. Right behind the back curtain was a runner, just like the one for the doors here, but these were used to roll the backdrops back and forth. I wheeled all the dollies over that little groove with no problems at all. Except one. The last one.” For some reason I put one finger in the air. I leaned in closer to Mulroney. “The last dolly was piled high with stereo equipment. Two large, heavy speakers, some smaller speakers, a box with microphones and wires and things and some microphone stands. It was heavy to even push. We hit that runner and the front wheels caught and down goes Frasier. The boxes and several stands came crashing down. It was the weight.” I sat back in my chair and let the smile take over my face. “The sheer weight of that stereo equipment caused the wheel to catch. All the lighter ones went right over it, just like how all the other suitcases glided right over this one. What made this guy’s suitcase so heavy that the wheels wouldn’t be able to glide over it?”

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right,” Elise said.

“Look,” Mulroney went on, “we have to be sure. I still don’t even think a woman can fit in that bag. We need to find out for sure.”

“I know how we can find out,” Elise said as she stood up and removed her phone from her purse. “Archie, rewind the video to right when this fat bastard takes his first step off the elevator.”

I did as I was instructed and Elise held her phone to the screen, snapping a picture.

23.

Elise’s idea was a pretty good one. The three of us were currently standing in the open elevator, the doors being wedged open.

“This guy was a giant,” Elise says. “Regular size things would appear much smaller than they probably are. Archie, get your tape measure out.”

I opened up the flap on my messenger bag and retrieved the tape measure. I tried to hand it to Elise but she told me to hold on to it for a minute. “Actually, Archie, I need you to stand right in the doorway here.” I positioned myself in the center of elevator. “Okay look,” Elise pulled up the picture she just took with her phone. The picture showed our suspect standing right where I was, pulling his suitcase that we believed contained our vic. “Now, what we need to figure out, once and for all, is if this bag he is pulling is big enough to stuff a 5‘3’ woman into. In order to do that, we need to figure out the dimensions of that bag.”

“How is that possible?” Mulroney asked.

“I think I know,” I answered. I knew where Elise was going with this and I was quite proud. I tossed the measuring tape up in the air and caught it. I did this a few more times as Elise continued with her plan.

“Look at the tiles here,” she said as she pointed to the floor of the elevator. We both looked. “All we have to do it figure out how many tiles our suspect filled up and how many tiles the suitcase took up, then do the math and figure out their exact sizes.”

I had begun using my tape measure as a yo-yo, holding the tip and throwing the base down, unwinding, then snapping it back up. It’s that whole A.D.D. thing again.

“Can we do that?” Mulroney asked. “I mean, is it possible?”

“Of course it is,” Elise answered. “This guy right here can do anything.” She gave me a nod, followed by a wink when Mulroney wasn’t looking. I smiled back at her.

“Good job, Elise.”

“Thanks, Arch.”

I snapped the tape back up and measured a tile. Each one was eight inches by eight inches and with the door open there are nine tiles in the opening, for a total of six feet. I looked at the picture and saw that our suspect’s body took up five full tiles. Starting from the very end of the door on my right-hand side, the first tile was left empty; the space above it was filled with his right arm. On the second and third tile was the man’s right foot. The fourth tile had the man’s left heel on it, with the fifth tile housing the rest of the foot.

I looked at the picture again and estimated where the top of his head was to the top of the door. I measured and put his height at about 6”4”. I dug into my bag and removed a pencil and marked on the tiles the location of his feet.

“Mulroney,” I said, “I need you to stand right here.”

He walked over and entered the elevator next to me. “Okay.”

“Great. I need you to put your feet on these marks here. You will be our suspect.” Mulroney hit his marks and I backed up to take a good look at him. I held the phone up comparing the pictures to the reality. Elise leaned over to take a look for herself.

“This guy is a giant,” she said. “What’s the wrestler guy’s name? The one from Princess Bride?”

Ha! “You mean Andre the Giant?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Where has he been lately?”

“Um, rotting in a grave for like, the past twenty years.”

“Oh. Damn. I guess we can rule him out, then.”

“Brilliant deduction. Moving on.”

“Agreed. At least this explains why the suitcase looks so small. The guy is a gorilla.”

“How many tiles does it look like the suitcase is taking up?”

“I can’t really tell,” she said, leaning in closer to get a better look at the picture. “Look, that one wheel is dead center on that tile.”

We walked back into the elevator and stood behind Mulroney. We located the tiled that the wheel was on when the suspect began walking out. We lined up everything as well as we could, marked the tiles, and then measured. Our final estimate (or GUESSTIMATE if you’re a douche) was that the bag was a little more than two feet wide and about three feet tall.

“I never would have guessed it was that big,” I said. The eyes can play tricks on you.

“Now we just have to find out if someone can fit in a bag that size,” Elise added.

“Mulroney,” I said, “is there a store in here that sells luggage?”

“Of course. There are several high end shops in our mall area.”

“Great,” I said. “Can you take us to one. We need a bag this size. Elise…?”

“Yep?”

“I think you’re going to have to be our victim. How limber are you?”

“What? I can’t fit in that bag!”

“You’re going to have to try. You’re the only one who is close to our vic’s height.”

“I’m like three inches taller than her, it won’t be exact.”

“Yeah, but if you can fit then we’ll know that Leslie could fit.”

“Come on, I don’t want to do this. We can find someone else. One of these stupid, giggly drunk bitches will probably do it if you buy them another beer.”

“Actually, you just gave me an idea. I know who is a little shorter than you and probably will work for a beer.”

“Oh lord.”

“Yep. I’m going to call up Gena the Whore.”

Elise palm-smacked her forehead while I pulled out my phone and began scroll through my call log. I hit dial then looked up at Elise again, “She’s probably more flexible than you, too.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s used her ears as foot rests before. She should work.”

Gena picked up on the fourth ring. “Archie baby?”

“Um. Yeah. Hi. It’s me. My number is saved in your phone?”

“Of course baby, you’re the most interesting john I’ve had in a long time.”

My face went flush. “I…I’m…I was…I’mma never. I was never a…a…john.”

Elise snorted with laughter, so loud she had to turn around and walk away. I’d be taking shit for this one for months. I can see it now.

“Well, whatever, baby, not yet I guess,” Gena responded.

“Hey, uh, yeahhhh, anyway. Um, we have a favor to ask of you. Where are you right now?”

“Me? Oh yeah, just hanging out. I thought you went home.”

“We did, but we’re back. If you’re available, could you come back to the Myra? We have a favor to ask.”

“Oh sugar, I do enjoy favors. I’m across the street. Give me fifteen minutes, darling.”

“Oh. Oh great. Okay. Meet us at the front desk. Fifteen minutes.”

“Okay baby. See you then.”

“Um. Yeah. Okay, see ya then.” I ended the call on my phone and put it back in my pocket. Three seconds hadn’t even passed since I disconnected when Elise punched me in the arm and keeled over laughing at me. Lousy broad.

“You are quite the ladies’ man, Archie Lemons. Quite the ladies’ man, indeed.” More laughter. All I could do was shake my head. Ugh.

The man’s inaugural victim was a young redhead woman whose tresses smelled of cigarette smoke. He had spotted her at the hotel’s pool and kept a close watch on her, studying her daily routine and making certain she was alone. It was his first time and he was overly cautious and paranoid. For years he had attempted to combat his indocile and irrepressible impulses but could no longer contain the beast that lay within.

He had diligently surveyed the hotel’s layout. He had to map an escape route once he abducted his victim. He assumed he would have to abstain from elevators since they often had cameras. It would be best to stick to stairwells, even though toting the bag containing her would be a bit of a hassle while descending the steps.

Midnight was approaching. The woman had the custom of staying up late, sitting outside by herself and having a drink and a few cigarettes. The man never saw her with anyone. He assumed she was put up here on business. That would be the best scenario for him. He walked out on the terrace, dragging his empty suitcase behind him and looked down upon the redheaded woman smoking. When the woman snuffed out her cigarette and stood up, the man made his way down to the woman’s floor. He had just stepped off the stairs as the woman was exiting the elevator. He knew which room was hers so he had to pace himself just right. The woman arrived at her room while the man was ten feet away. She opened her door and stepped inside. While the door was shutting, the man sprinted and wedged his foot in the jamb just in time. He barged his way into the woman’s room and quickly muffled her screams with his massive hands. He punched her in the mouth and nose until she fell unconscious to the floor. He then scooped up her petite, limp body and stuffed it into the suitcase.

He was nervous and skittish. He hands were trembling with aflutter.

He departed the room, pulling the woman behind him and made his way to his car, where he put the suitcase in his trunk, started his engine and journeyed out to the middle of nowhere completely unheeded.

After that initial time, things only got easier for him. He continued fulfilling his desires at nearly every stop his occupation took him.

24.

Apparently whores are quite punctual. There’s a little fun fact for ya. Fourteen minutes after ending my phone call, in walked Gena through the front doors of the Myra Hotel. She threw up her right arm in an over-exaggerated wave in my general direction. “Hey baby! I made it!” She lowered her arm and when she got within ten yards of me, started to run towards me then jumped into my arms. Out of instinct I caught her. It was a full five second, or a fucking eternity, before I realized my hands were on her ass. I promptly let go, setting her back on the ground where she belonged. The look on Elise’s face was halfway to laughter, halfway to terror. I gave her a stupid little smirk and a shoulder shrug. “So what’s up, Buttercup?” Gena asked.

“Thank you for coming, Gena,” Elise said.

“No worries. Anything for my baby here,” Gena said as she put her hand on my upper back and rubbed it back and forth. (aids aids aids, get her off get her off!)

“Yeahhh…Anyway,” Elise continued, “we need you to do us a favor. How flexible are you?”

“Woah, this sounds like my kind of favor.”

“Gena…how flexible are you?”

“Pretty flexible, I guess. I’m not as young as I used to be though.”

“No one is,” I interrupted. “That’s not even possible to not be as young as-‘

“Archie,” Elise cut me off. “Stay on target.”

“Red Five standing by.”

“What?”

“Stay on target…stay on…nevermind. Gena. Elise and I and Mr. Mulroney here need you to try and fit into a suitcase for us.”

“Again?”

“What?”

“Oh nothing. A suitcase, huh? Sure, why?”

I explained the scenario and Gena was happy to help. We hadn’t had time to find a suitcase to use yet so we had to go into a store and get one. We were lucky and found one that looked like it matched the dimensions. Mulroney was able to talk the store owner into letting us take the floor model bag out of the store, on the promise that we would return it within the hour. He explained who he was and what the situation was, flashed her some paperwork and we were good to go. We took the empty bag back to the elevator and matched it to the picture. It appeared to be almost exactly the same size.

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