Trueman Bradley - Aspie Detective (28 page)

Buckley’s face turned red.

“Well,” he said, “I always meant to see the museum someday, you know. I just never got around to it. But, anyhow, I still can’t figure out why you smashed this painting.”

“Because my SR can detect the evidence that will convict Stokowski!” I said. “You see? Behind this painting is a secret compartment! I can see some kind of papers in there. It must be some kind of evidence that proves Stokowski’s criminal partnership with that gangster, Benvolio.”

Stokowski started shouting and cursing. He sat up and stared at me. I wasn’t sure if he was angry or starting to cry.

“Okay!” said Stokowski. “I’m guilty, okay? You got me! I admit it! Trueman, I underestimated you. I didn’t figure you were as smart as everyone said. Now, I see you’re smart. How on earth you managed to get past a hundred gangsters with guns and get up here, I have no idea! But I really misjudged you and I’m sorry, okay? You’re a great detective. I admit it.”

Stokowski’s words filled me with emotion. I felt a mixture of pride and relief, to know this man who had once mocked me and was prejudiced against me was now admitting that I was capable of being a “great detective.” Everyone who had once doubted I could become a great detective now believed in me. And, what was more important, their confidence had enabled me to believe in myself. Believing in myself, my equations and my SR had solved this case, and now even Stokowski, my worst enemy, admitted that my Asperger’s didn’t stop me from being a great detective. I became so emotional, I smiled at Stokowski.

Stokowski’s face suddenly changed. He stopped shaking and no longer seemed like he would start crying. He smiled at me.

“Yes, Trueman,” said Stokowski. “Yes, you’re a great detective. I admit it! And, what’s more, I’m sure you’re a good man. I’m sure you’ll let me explain what happened, right? I mean, everyone’s got a right to explain their actions, right?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Yeah!” said Stokowski. “Well then, just hear me out. I may’ve been partners with Benvolio, but it wasn’t my fault! You’ve got to believe me, Trueman. Just let me tell my story and I think you’ll see that I’m a victim here, not a criminal.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tell your story.”

“Thank you!” said Stokowski.

He licked his lips for a minute and seemed to be thinking of what to say. When he did speak, he spoke in a pleading way. It reminded me of a child I had once seen, in a mall, explaining to his mother why he needed a video game.

“I’m not a criminal, Trueman!” said Stokowski. “I was being blackmailed. You see, I’ve got a pretty serious gambling problem. I’ve had this problem for years. Since before I was Chief, even. Well, I’d go out and gamble most nights. I’d win a little, lose a little. Some nights I’d make a couple thousand. But some nights I’d lose almost everything I had.”

Stokowski started blinking his eyes. Sweat was dripping down his face and he was unable to wipe it off, because he was still wearing handcuffs. Buckley took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped Stokowski’s face.

“Thanks, Sam,” said Stokowski. “You’re a good man. I’m sorry for the way I treated you too, Sam. I hope, when I finish telling my story, you’ll realize that I had no choice.”

“Go on,” said Buckley. “Finish your story.”

“Well,” said Stokowski, “one night I was in this very casino, and I was having miserable luck. I tell you, I lost so much money, I was left with nothing. I almost had to give them the shirt off my back, I lost so much. Well, I’d had a few drinks too, so my mind was a little, um, fuzzy. I wasn’t thinking too good. I did something stupid. This guy, Benvolio, he comes up to me and starts talking to me. Like I said, I had no money. I lost everything I had. I told this Benvolio guy that I had no money and couldn’t even afford a taxi to get home. Well, he offered to give me a loan. He gave me 10,000 bucks! Just like that! Well, I shouldn’t have done it, but I took the loan.”

“And just what were you thinking, doing that?” asked Buckley. “You know who Benvolio is! Every cop in this city knows Benvolio’s a gangster! And you took a loan from him? And you expect me to believe all this wasn’t your fault? No, it is your fault. You did a stupid thing, Chief!”

“I was drunk!” said Stokowski. “When I sobered up, the morning after I took the loan, I paid Benvolio back. I paid back every penny! But then he started blackmailing me! He said he recorded our loan transaction on the video surveillance cameras of this casino and he said he’d show the video to the media if I didn’t do what he says. It’s shameful for a cop to get a loan from a gangster, right? What could I do? I’d lose my job! I didn’t mean to do anything illegal! I was drunk!”

“That’s no excuse,” said Buckley. “What kind of things did Benvolio ask you to do, anyways? What are those papers there, in the wall? Something about your and Benvolio’s partnership?”

“We weren’t really partners,” said Stokowski. “Benvolio just asked me to make sure the police didn’t discover any of the criminal activities he was doing. As for what he asked me to do, well… you recognize that bottle over there, Trueman?”

Stokowski pointed his finger at a whiskey bottle on a nearby table. I recognized the label immediately.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s a bottle of Orkafend’s Blend Whiskey. The same kind of whiskey bottle you showed me that day I was in jail. You dropped it on the floor.”

“Yeah,” said Stokowski. “Well, did you ever wonder why I showed you that bottle and offered you a drink?”

“Well,” I said, “I guess because you’re an alcoholic.”

“No!” said Stokowski. “Well, yes. I mean, I am an alcoholic, but that’s not why I showed you the bottle. You see, Benvolio was illegally making that whiskey here in Manhattan. He produces tons of that stuff every year and sells it on the black market. Benvolio was blackmailing me, like I said. So, I had to do what he said. He told me to make sure the cops never found out about his illegal alcohol production. I showed you the bottle because I wanted to see if you knew anything about it. I was watching you closely as I showed it to you. I’ve been a detective a long time and so I can read a man’s face. If you knew anything about the illegal alcohol, I would have seen it on your face. Of course, I could see right away you didn’t know anything about it. But, still you made me nervous. All this talk in the media about your miracle crime-fighting equations and all that. Well, it made me think you might discover everything about me and Benvolio. That’s why I charged you with the State Department and tried to get your license revoked. Then, when you won the case, I guess I panicked. I’m the one who shot at your building and destroyed your sign. I thought, if I frightened you, you might close your agency or leave the city or something. I was scared of you, Trueman. I was scared you were really as good a detective as the newspapers said. Now, of course, I can see that you are.”

“That explains why you were always trying to interfere with my detective work,” I said. “So, you didn’t really want to do anything illegal or to discriminate against me? You were forced to do it by Benvolio? He blackmailed you and forced you to hide his illegal alcohol production from the police?”

“Yeah!” said Stokowski. “Exactly.”

“I still don’t see what Malcolm Vrie and Eddie Sipple have to do with all this,” said Buckley. “Why were you trying to stop us from investigating their deaths?”

“Well, you see,” said Stokowski, “any time Benvolio did a crime, I couldn’t send police to investigate, because I had to keep his crimes secret. So who did I send? I sent this private investigator, Malcolm Vrie! He was actually a friend of Benvolio’s, so he wouldn’t expose Benvolio’s crimes!”

“Malcolm Vrie was a criminal?” I asked. “A gangster?”

“Yes,” said Stokowski.

“That still doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t let us investigate their deaths,” said Buckley. “Who killed them?”

“They killed each other,” said Stokowski.

“What?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Stokowski. “You see, Malcolm Vrie and Eddie Sipple were criminal partners. But Eddie was a bit crazy. I hear he was an alcoholic, too. Eddie had an argument with that Eric Lendalainen guy and killed him. When Malcolm heard about it, he came to me and told me Lendalainen was killed by Eddie. I knew Eddie was one of Benvolio’s men, so I couldn’t let the police investigate. So, I let Malcolm investigate the case.”

“So that’s why you didn’t give the case to Nora,” I said.

“Oh, yeah!” said Stokowski. “Of course not! No, I couldn’t let her investigate. She might’ve found out everything. Then Benvolio would’ve been real mad at me.”

“You still didn’t explain how they killed each other,” said Buckley. “What happened? How did Malcolm and Eddie die?”

“Well, you see,” said Stokowski, “Malcolm was sick and tired of Eddie’s wild and drunken behaviour. He thought, if Eddie kept acting so wild, he’d end up doing something stupid and risk exposing their crimes to the police. So, what does Malcolm do? He decides to get rid of Eddie. He meets Eddie at the Hickson warehouse one day, where they both worked together, counterfeiting money, and he tried to kill him, by giving him a bottle of whiskey laced with this kind of poison, called thallium or something like that.”

“Thallium sulphate,” said Buckley. “A tasteless, odorless poison that kills very slowly.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” said Stokowski. “Well, Malcolm figured Eddie would be dead soon, so he decided to take the credit for solving the Eric Lendalainen murder. He told the press that he solved the case, and that Eddie was the murderer.”

“Why would he do that to his own partner?” asked Buckley.

“I guess he figured Eddie would already be dead by the time they came to arrest him,” said Stokowski. “And I guess he got greedy. He wanted credit for solving a murder case. He thought Eddie would be dead and wouldn’t be able to tell anyone they were criminal partners. But Malcolm thought wrong. Eddie was a pretty strong guy. He didn’t die too fast. He was sick, but still alive. And when he heard that Malcolm betrayed him, he went looking for him. Well, he found him at the Hickson warehouse and that’s where Malcolm’s life ended. Soon after, the cops found Eddie and arrested him. But, you know, since Malcolm couldn’t be found to present any evidence against Eddie, the cops had to let him go. I guess Eddie was at the airport trying to get out of the city when the poison finally killed him.”

“Wow, so that’s the answer to the mystery,” I said. “Eddie Sipple and Malcolm Vrie killed each other. And they were criminals. And you were only doing these illegal things because you were forced. You didn’t really want to hurt anybody?”

Stokowski looked at me like the little boy who wanted a video game. He seemed to be pleading for my help and sympathy.

“Of course not!” said Stokowski. “Look, I’m no criminal, Trueman! The only things I’m guilty of is having a gambling problem and a little bit of an alcohol problem! Since when is that against the law, huh? I tell you, Trueman, I’m a victim here. I didn’t do anything wrong! I only did what anyone else would do. I mean, what could I do? I couldn’t let him show that video to the world or I’d be fired. I might even go to jail! You understand me? I shouldn’t have to go to jail for one stupid decision I only made because I was drunk! I mean, that’s just not fair! I got a problem with gambling and alcohol. I shouldn’t be punished for it! Someone should be trying to help me, not punish me! I’m a victim. Can’t you see that? You’ve got to help me, Trueman! You just got to!”

I could recognize the fear on Stokowski’s face and I was sympathetic to him. I had assumed that he was just an evil man, a criminal, and I hadn’t considered the possibility that Benvolio was forcing him to be his criminal partner. I hadn’t considered that Stokowski had any serious problems and needed help and compassion. After being so discriminated against by this man, it felt nice to have his acceptance. Not only was he accepting of me, he was pleading for me to help him. I decided the only compassionate thing to do was to try to help him.

“Of course I’ll help you,” I said, smiling.

Stokowski let out a deep sigh and smiled widely.

“Oh, good,” said Stokowski. “You’re a good man, Trueman.”

Buckley walked between Stokowski and me, waving his finger.

“Trueman, Trueman, Trueman,” said Buckley, “you’re a total genius with equations and you’re a damn good detective, I admit. But some things, you just can’t see. Stokowski’s trying to butter you up, understand? He thinks you’re a sucker.”

“Butter?” I asked. “Sucker? Butter sucker? Do you mean a butterscotch lollipop? I had one of those candies before. I didn’t like them much. So, if Stokowski’s trying to give me one, I don’t want one.”

Buckley put his head in his hands.

“No, Trueman,” he said. “Sorry, I got to remember not to use expressions around you. A ‘sucker’ is someone who’s easy to fool, understand? Stokowski’s trying to fool you! He doesn’t respect you, he doesn’t think you’re a good man. He thinks, if he acts friendly to you, you’ll think he’s your friend and you’ll let him escape.”

“Oh…” I said.

Stokowski’s face changed as he listened to Buckley. His friendly smile changed to a frown. I could recognize the anger and hatred in his frown. I jumped back, away from Stokowski. His face had changed so rapidly, from friendly to hate-filled, that I realized Buckley was right. He had only been pretending to be friendly. He was trying to fool me, because he thought I was a sucker. He didn’t really think I was smart.

“You liar!” I said. “I’m no sucker! Thanks for telling me, Sam. I had no idea he was trying to give me butter.”

“No,” said Buckley, “the expression is ‘butter you up.’ It means he’s trying to trick you by being friendly to you.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’m lucky I have you here to tell me these things. I was ready to free him. I felt sympathy for him.”

“Yeah,” said Buckley. “Well, I’m mighty lucky to have you here with me too, Trueman. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have caught him at all! So, we both help each other out.”

I smiled in response. We were a good team. Exactly like Dick Tracy and Sam Catchem.

“We’re a good team, Sam Catchem,” I said.

Buckley smiled and put his hand on my shoulder.