Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius (13 page)

After I made the call the rest of my morning was spent watching television and relaxing. I kept checking the clock. I was excited to help Elliot set up at his school tonight and I was excited to have a nice evening out with my loved ones.

My cell phone rang at 3:50. It was Elliot. It was time to go!

I walked out to my car and drove over to pick him up. Elliot and I would get there early and Elise and Eric would meet us there before show time. I was happy to have some time together with the little dude.

We got to the school and Elliot held my hand and led me to the office where I had to check in and get a GUEST sticker. We were then instructed to go to the auditorium where various staff members were preparing for tonight’s show. Elliot ran. I followed behind.

The inside of the auditorium was actually pretty impressive, especially for a grade school. I had often seen it from the outside, but never once had a reason to go inside until now. The stage was busy with men and women setting up various sets, chit-chatting and drinking coffee. Some kids were huddled in the corner watching and Elliot saw a few of his friends and took off to visit. I walked up to the first adult I could find and told her who I was and what I was here for. She instructed me to check in with some other lady, a Mrs. McClintock. Apparently she was in charge of this fiasco. She was pointed out to me and I took off to get my orders.

“Mrs. McClintock?” I inquire as I lightly tap her on her shoulder.

“Yes?” she said, turning around.

“Hi, my name’s Archie. I’m Elliot’s…I’m here with Elliot.” My finger wandered over the crowd until I finally spotted him and pointed. “That dude, right there.”

“Oh yes. You are here to help set up, right?”

“That’s right. Just tell me what to do.”

“Great, you see that guy standing over there with the flannel shirt on?”

“Yep.”

“That’s Bob. He’s in charge of the sets. There are a few large items that need to be put out on to the stage and we need some strong, strapping young men to do it for us. Do you think you’re up to the task?”

“Um, sure. Yeah. I think I can handle it. So, check in with Bob?”

“Yep.”

“Great. I’ll be back,” and off I went to talk to Bob.

Bob didn’t appear to be young, strong or strapping, whatever that meant. In fact, he reminded me of Dan Conner from Roseanne, but whatever.

“Bob?” I asked as I approached him.

“Yeah, I’m Bob.”

“Archie Lemons, I’m here with Elliot, who isssss…” I glanced around the room , “well, he’s over there somewhere. I’m here to help. Heard ya had a few heavy things that needed to be moved on stage.”

“Oh great. Yeah, we have a few fake trees and some other crap back there. We also need the speakers pushed out and set up. You know anything about speakers?”

“Actually, I do. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great, well, let’s get started. Everything is on dollies so it’ll make it a little easier to push out. The hard part will be taking them off the dollies. It’s not that these things are really heavy, they’re not, some of them are just a little top heavy, ya know.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure we can handle it. Let’s go.”

Bob led me through the curtains to backstage. Here was where all the props were being held. It didn’t look like it would be too difficult of a job. In fact, I’m pretty sure Bob could have handled this on his own. Oh well, no big deal. I was happy to help, especially if it made Elliot happy, even though he had all but abandoned me and left me alone. With Bob

Bob walked over to the side of the stage and opened up the curtains. There were long slits with metal runners fit down inside them on the floor at the back of the stage where the backdrop pictures would need to be fitted in to so they could slide in and out on their grooves for the scene changes. We would do that. First we had trees to bring out.

The trees were all handmade and rather impressive for an elementary school Christmas program. They were each about ten feet tall and set on a dolly, which was really just a square piece of cheaply carpeted wood with four wheels. It was an easy move, seeing as our only obstacle was the little set runners at the back. They glided over them with perfect ease and we arranged all three trees on the stage. We would take them off the dollies once we were finished with everything.

Our last dolly was piled high with the stereo equipment. There were more speakers than I thought there would be, and I figured it would take me at least an hour to run all the wires and get everything up and running.

The speakers were stacked with two huge subwoofers, (for a children’s program? Really?) two mid-range speakers and a cardboard box filled with microphones, microphone stands and a receiver. It was wobbly and unsteady. (Just great.)

Bob and I wheeled the pile of electronics very slowly, steering with one hand each and holding the top of the pile with the other hand. We had good momentum going but as soon as we hit the divot in the stage the wheels caught and down came crashing the box of microphones and all the microphone stands, making a horribly loud, tingy clank that echoed all throughout the auditorium.

All eyes were on us (hey look, there’s Elliot) as I could offer up nothing more for an apology than a lazy, apathetic shoulder shrug.

“Oops.” I said. “My bad.”

21.

Nothing was badly damaged during the unfortunate spill to the ground and I was able to get everything in perfect working order and totally set up in just over an hour. I was shocked. It was the first time I had ever set something up and not had something go terribly wrong on me. I was rather impressed with myself.

As I was doing that, several teachers were scrambling around the auditorium setting up all the chairs and putting up all the last minute touches that apparently make grade school Christmas productions seem to move so smoothly. None of that would help the kids’ acting abilities though. Oh well.

I checked the clock on the wall. It was almost time for Elise and Eric to arrive, along with all the other proud parents. It was already dark outside. Elliot came up to me and finally decided to leave his friends for a minute and come say hello. I rustled his hair up a bit and told him he better go get ready. He thanked me, gave me a hug and hurried off back towards his friends and out of my sight to get prepared.

The parents began flooding the auditorium, but still no sign of the E’s. I sent her a text but it went unanswered. With ten minutes left to show time and most people already in their seats, I began to get a little worried and stepped outside to call. I didn’t even finish dialing the number before I saw them hustle up through the open gate towards me.

“Oh man,” I said, “I thought you guys weren’t going to make it. What’s the deal?”

“Sorry sorry,” Elise said. “I couldn’t find my keys! I looked everywhere and they just vanished.”

“Mmhmm, and where were they?”

“Pocket of the sweatshirt I wore earlier today.”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I bent over and picked up Eric. “Hey buddy! Long time no see.”

“Mommy tried to make us late,” he whispered to me.

“Yeah,” I said. “That mommy. She’s a troublemaker. Ready to go watch your brother?”

“Yeah!” And with that we all walked into the auditorium and took our seats towards the back. I had to have the aisle seat of course. Any other seat is too risky for me, for a rather large number of reasons, none of which I will bore you with. You’re welcome.

The lights dimmed and the show started. It was the younger kids, one year older than Eric, who lead off the show with a couple of generic Christmas tunes. I leaned over to Little E and whispered, “Get ready, homes, that’s going to be you next year.”

Eric screwed up his eyes, stuck out his tongue and said “Yuck!”, perhaps a little too loudly. Elise gave us both a look and told us to shh. We did as we were told.

When that group of kids finished and marched off stage, Elliot’s group came on. They did a version of Charlie Brown Christmas, or whatever it’s called, and it was actually quite cute. Sure, all of the kids looked like they attended the Denise Richard’s School of Shitty, Flat and Cardboard Acting, but whatever, right? They’re kids; they deserve a little slack when it comes to these types of things. I clapped the loudest and obnoxiously longest when they were finished. I was proud of the little guy. He played Schroeder.

I didn’t much care about the rest of the show and my A.D.D. was already kicking in in full force. My mind began to wander as I searched around the room for anything more entertaining. No dice. Some teachers were on stage setting up the microphone stands for the next performance. I chuckled to myself.

“Dude, Elise, I almost broke those stupid microphones earlier.”

“What? How?”

“We were-” And that was it. My mind clicked and my eyes began to tunnel. I couldn’t even keep focus. I vaguely heard Elise saying my name and someone, probably Eric, pulling on my shirt sleeve, but I had no choice but to ignore it. I’m pretty sure the lights went down again and the show started back up and I heard the noise in the room grow louder. I paid no attention to it, though. I was working on something.

When I finally came to, Elise and the kids were standing by my side. The show was over, the parents had gone. We we’re alone in the auditorium. I was still sitting.

“Archie! God, we were about to call an ambulance for you,” Elise said, as I finally began clearing my head. “God, I’ve only seen you get like that twice before in your life. Is everything okay? I had to explain to the staff here what was wrong with you and talk them in to letting us stay for a bit. They’re not happy, Archie. We have to leave. Come on.”

Still I sat.

“Come on, Uncle Archie, we’re hungry,” one of the kids said, though I’m not exactly sure which one. My head was still a bit fuzzy. I closed my eyes tightly to try and clear the fog then finally stood up. “We have to go back to Vegas.”

22.

We made a deal with Jamie and the kids; We would be gone for no more than three days, back in plenty of time for final shopping, Christmas eve and Christmas day. Then, after Christmas, I would be springing for a trip to Disneyland. The kids were an easily sell. I assured Jamie that her and Calen would be coming, too, and her husband, Whatshisname, was more than welcome to attend to if he could get the time off. Jamie hesitated, saying it wasn’t a big deal and that I didn’t need to do that. I insisted and she finally agreed. That same morning Elise and I were back on the road to Las Vegas.

Elise wasn’t very thrilled with me that I was refusing to discuss my epiphany until we were back at the hotel. But I had to work this entire thing out in my brain, and besides that, there were still a few things I needed to double check before I could finally be one-hundred-percent positive my theory was correct.

It was a long drive.

I tried to lighten to mood with my normal rants and raves and ramblin’s but nothing seemed to work very well.

“Okay fine,” I say to Elise, finally giving in a little bit to her silent treatment. “I know who the rapist is.”

“Well I figured that, but who?! Who?!”

I pulled over to the side of the road. We were in the middle of the desert. The wind was blowing a dirt tornado off in the distance as I told Elise.

***

We got to the hotel an hour and a half later and walked straight to the security office, stopping only to check in again with the secretary out front.

“I thought you guys left.” she said.

“We did,” Elise answered “We had a previous engagement back home that we had to attend. But we’re back down and we’re not leaving until we finish everything this time.”

“Fuckin’ A,” I added, for some unknown, stupid reason. I regretted saying it before it was fully even out of my mouth. Oh well.

She let us into the surveillance room and told us Mr. Mulroney was out on the floor but she would let him know we were here. We thanked her and she closed the door behind her.

The screens were all reset and showing the real-time actions of all the people on the casino floor and other areas of the hotel. We had saved all our videos and knew exactly how to retrieve them. I had it up and running within five minutes. I stood up and tapped the glass of the monitor. “There he is, E. There he is.”

“Now we just have to figure out who he is and where to find him.”

“We’ll get him. I promise you.” I returned my attention to the monitor. The video was paused. On the screen was our victim and standing right next to her on the elevator was a large man in a flannel shirt. I leaned in closely and got a good look at him. “We got ya, Fatboy.”

I resumed play and watched as the elevator doors closed. Fifteen and a half minutes later, according to the video, that same man exited the elevator, this time rolling a suitcase behind him. A suitcase that I was convinced Leslie was shoved in.

I heard the door open and we both turned to look.

“Mulroney. Just the man we wanted to see,” I said

“I thought you guys left,” Mulroney said.

Elise took over. “We did. But we’re back. We’ve got it.”

“Oh, do share,” he said as he walked over to the monitors. “I hope you’re right because I have a meeting today with hotel management, security and our insurance adjusters. Something I am not looking forward to. I would love to bring them good news.”

“Well,” I said, “here’s what we’ve got. You see this guy right here?” I tapped the monitor again. It was paused on our suspect exiting the elevator with, hopefully, Leslie in his bag.

“This guy?” he asked. “How do you know?”

“I know because no one else could have done it. We’ve accounted for every single goddamn person that came in to this hotel and used that elevator. No one used the stairs; no one used an emergency exit. It’s him. I know it is. Watch.”

I rewound the video and started with Leslie stepping on the elevator. I narrated for our guest.

“Okay, here is the last time we see Leslie. And here is our suspect.” I paused the video. “We followed this guy backwards and all he was doing for most of the evening was wandering around the casino. He would occasionally sit at a table or a slot machine, but for never more than five to ten minutes. He also stops at two bars and has a couple of drinks. He had several chances to see our vic throughout the night. At one point they even came within five feet or so of each other. He never gives her a second look though which leads me to believe he knew what he was doing. Our vic makes her way from the bar to the elevator. The suspect must see her get up and begin to follow her. The vic gets on the elevator alone, the doors start to close, and here comes our suspect. The vic holds the doors for him, he steps on and says something to her. The vic is seen smiling as the door closed.” I resume the video and watch as the doors shield us from her.