Caliber Detective Agency - Box Set - Case Files 1-6 (9 page)

“But there’s no way she could have made that call.” Chris said. “I was with her when you said he received it, and she never made a call.”

“Tommy said his captain thinks you’re mistaken about that and that she must have called him without you noticing. As far as the cops are concerned, this case is closed.”

Chris walked over to his grandfather.

“I know that I’m new at this, but I was with her the whole time, and I swear that she never made a call.”

“Everybody screws up sometime kid, let it go.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter, the case is closed.”

“It’s not closed! Mira never made that call. That means she had a partner, and I’m going to prove it.”

And with those words, Chris stalked out of the office.

Velma looked over at the old man.

“Mr. Caliber, I believe him. If he says he never took his eyes off her, then I believe him.”

Jake and the old man broke out in laughter and Velma looked back and forth at them.

“You believe him too? Then, why the pretense?”

“We had to see if he’s got it.” Jake said.

“Got what?”

“What’s our company motto?”

Velma smiled, as she finally understood.

“Caliber Detective Agency—We Never Give Up!”

The old man rose from his chair and stared out the window. Down on the street; Chris hailed a cab and went in search of answers.

The old man took a puff on his cigar and nodded his head.

“That’s my boy,”

D
allas, Texas, 1884

They could hear the sound of the fighting before they reached the edge of the city. Gunshots rang out from so many directions that it seemed as if everyone was shooting at once.

As they entered the city, Jake and Sheriff Carter stopped their horses and helped their women to the ground.

“You gals go over to the schoolhouse there and lay low; when the fightin’s over, we’ll come back for you.” The sheriff said.

Both Eva and his wife voiced their protests at being left behind, but Jake and the sheriff were already galloping toward the fighting.

***

A
s they approached the jail, the gunfire ended, however, the dead seemed to be everywhere. There were more than a dozen men with black hoods on their heads lying in the street along with the bodies of several deputies and an innocent young woman, who must have gotten caught in the gun battle.

Dead horses littered the landscape, undoubtedly shot by the deputies, in a bid to keep the bandits from galloping off after they wrecked their mayhem.

Jake rode about the bodies, checking for signs of life, but the deputies’ faces were pale and only dead eyes stared out from the holes cut into the bandits’ hoods.

The sheriff had ridden over toward the bank, which was at the other end of the street. There were a number of men inside, as well as a number of bodies, he rode back to Jake and told him what he saw.

A deputy emerged from the jail, limping; it was the one with the deep-set eyes named Harrow. He was bleeding from the right shoulder and his arm dangled uselessly at his side.

“Sheriff! Sheriff, they broke Clayton out and then went over to the bank. We tried to fight them off, but we was outnumbered.”

“How many men are left?” Jake said.

Harrow looked as if he wanted to cry.

“We’re it.”

“I counted six milling around in the bank there,” The sheriff said. “And one of them was Bo Clayton.”

A shout came from the bank. It was Clayton.

“We got you outnumbered sheriff. Everyone get back inside the jail and let us walk over to the stables, and we’ll ride out of here and let you live, or I swear, I’ll help you meet your maker.”

Harrow grabbed the sheriff by the arm.

“Take the deal. There’s no ammo left except what we got in our guns and my gun hand is useless. It’s suicide to try and stop them.”

The sheriff looked over at Jake.

“How many shots you got in that fancy gun of yours?”

“Twelve,”

Next, the sheriff plucked Harrow’s gun from his holster.

“You’ve done your part, Jim, now go take cover,”

Harrow sent the sheriff a look of astonishment.

“You’re standin’ your ground? That’s crazy!”

“Crazy or not, I’m the law here; and look what they done to our city. They ain’t leavin’ here without a fight, no sir!”

Harrow gave him a look of incredulity and then limped back toward the jail.

The sheriff stared at Jake.

“Follow him son, get yourself to cover,”

“You can’t fight them alone.”

“And I can’t ask you to join me. Harrow was right, there’s too many of them.”

“I ain’t lettin’ you do it alone, sheriff,”

The sheriff smiled at him.

“You’re a good boy Jake, alright then, here’s what we’ll do, we’ll—look out!”

Jake spun around to where the sheriff pointed, gun at the ready and saw... nothing.

He turned back around to ask Carter what had alarmed him, and the sheriff hit him twice and knocked him to the ground. By the time he regained his senses, the sheriff was charging into the bank with both guns blazing.

His shots were answered with a loud volley, and then the day grew deathly silent.

A voice whispered nearby, “Oh no, Bobby,”

Jake was still on the ground, but he spun around on his hands and knees and found the source of the voice. It was the sheriff’s wife, she was standing by the door of the jail, and Eva was beside her.

Jake gestured for them to get inside, even as Deputy Harrow came out and grabbed them both about the waist with his left arm, to urge them into the jail.

As she reached the doorway, Eva pointed down the street.

“They’re coming,”

A moment later, and Harrow pushed them inside and a moment after that, Jake heard the sound of the door locking.

There was a dead bandit lying nearby, and Jake reached for the corpse’s weapon, in a bid to increase his firepower, but then an idea came to him, and he saw how he just might live to see another day.

***

H
e lay on his back, watching them approach slowly, guns in hand. There were six of them. They strode boldly down the street with no hoods on. Bo Clayton was among them, along with two men that looked enough like him to be his brothers.

Jake had taken the black hood off the dead bandit and placed it over his own head, now he laid still, eyes opened and unblinking as the men shuffled along the dusty street.

They walked towards him, then around, and finally past him, and as the last man shuffled away, he allowed himself the luxury of blinking against the dust swirled up by their steps.

But then, they stopped, and in the next instant, he heard Clayton speak.

“No sense in doin’ things halfway, let’s storm the jail there and finish this,”

The other five men murmured their agreement and then all six of them headed toward the jail, the jail where Eva was.

Jake rose silently from the ground and ripped off the hood.

“Calyton!”

Clayton and his men spun around to stare at Jake. Jake was dusty from the ground, and his hair was mussed from the hood, but his young face wore a look of determination.

Clayton seemed unimpressed, because he pointed at Jake and laughed.

“Well, if it ain’t the dude with the strong punch. Run along sonny, or we’ll give you what the sheriff got.”

Jake craned his neck.

“I’m gonna kill you Clayton; I’m gonna kill all of you.”

“Maybe you can’t count boy, it’s six to one, and hell, your gun’s still in your holster.”

“On three!” Jake said.

Clayton sent the man standing beside him a look of confusion, even as Jake began counting off.

“One!”

Clayton shook his head. “Dude’s loco,”

“Two!”

Clayton’s men dropped the canvas sacks full of money they had stolen from the bank, as their grips grew tighter on their guns.

“Three!”

Six guns rose, their barrels aiming at Jake, as his hand flew to his holster, then six fingers began tightening on six triggers, as six bullets flew from Jake’s gun, and six men fell dead at his feet.

The good citizens of Dallas, some tucked away safely inside, peeking from windows, a few, hidden beneath the wooden sidewalks, others, lying flat atop roofs, trembling in their fear.

These are the people that witnessed the birth of a legend, and to their last breath, they would claim that it was the most amazing thing they ever saw.

The door of the jail leaped open and Eva stepped around the dead men, and flew into Jake’s arms, as tears of both joy and fear rolled down her cheeks.

They were soon joined by dozens of their fellows, and in the weeks and months that followed, the name, Jake Caliber, would become known across the land; a name that to this very day, is still a legend.

***

N
ew York City, Present day

“Someone here to see you, Lou,”

Lieutenant Thomas Delaney looked up from his desk and saw Officer Shea O’Reilly standing in his doorway, behind her stood Chris Caliber. O’Reilly was five-two, a hundred and twenty pounds with short dark hair and a dark complexion; when she spoke, her voice was pure Brooklyn.

O’Reilly was chewing gum, and she made a loud popping noise with it, as she tossed a thumb back at Chris.

“The kid here claims to be a Caliber, but I thought that they were all nine feet tall and wore red capes.”

Chris smiled. “You’re thinking of my grandfather, and he’s ten feet tall.”

O’Reilly turned around and sent him a grin.

“You’re a Caliber all right, you’ve got the wise mouth, and hey, when you see your brother, tell him that I’m still waiting for that call.”

“What call?”

“He’ll know what I mean. Now stop wasting my time and go in and visit the Lou, see ya around.”

Chris watched O’Reilly walk off and thought that the gun on her uniform-clad hip looked too big for her; he then looked over at Delaney.

“She’s cute.”

“She’d eat you alive.”

“Probably, why does she call you Lou?”

“It’s short for Lieutenant,”

“Right,” Chris said, as he walked in the office and sat across from Delaney.

Tom Delaney looked at him and let out a sigh, before reaching into his wallet and taking out two twenties, which he then tossed over to Chris.

Chris looked down at the money.

“What’s that for?”

“One each for your brother and your grandfather; I bet them that you wouldn’t come here, wouldn’t keep digging into the Reuben Smith/Mira Asher mess. You’d think I’d know better than to bet against a Caliber’s stubbornness.”

Chris grinned as he picked up the money.

“Granddad knew that I wouldn’t give up?”

“And Jake too,”

“So, what do you think about the case? I can tell you that Mira never called her husband, which means that she had a partner.”

“Only if you believe that she murdered him, and that it wasn’t a case of self-defense,”

“I think it was planned. I think Reuben Smith never mugged anyone, that Mira’s dates were beaten up by her partner, and that that partner also made the call that sent Reuben Smith rushing to her apartment. I also think that same person killed her, but staged it to look like a suicide.”

“Let’s say that’s all true, now what?”

“We follow the money. Before her death, Mira inherited Smith’s money, now who inherits hers?”

Tom Delaney looked down at a paper on his desk.

“Her next of kin is a younger sister named Michelle. She lives in California, the San Francisco area.”

“Let me guess, she’s been in town visiting?”

“No, Ms. Asher, wait, Mrs. Garrett, according to this she just got married, is at home in California, and has been all week. The cops out there verified her whereabouts.”

“Well, if she’s not our anonymous partner, then I’d vote for Gary Rollins. He’s Mira’s ex-lover and Reuben’s ex-best-friend.”

“He’s a jerk, but he’s innocent. When Mira was having sleeping pills shoved down her throat, he was with a client in Westchester, a rich client who was picked up on a DUI.”

“What about Sammy Kaye, Mira’s neighbor?”

“Him?”

“Yeah, I know, he doesn’t strike me as the cold blooded killer type either, but he knows all the players.”

“Sammy Kaye is a fashion designer, independent; he owns his own business, Kaye Fashions, and has no criminal record.”

Chris shook his head.

“It’s got to be the sister; she’s the one who’s winding up with the money.”

“She’s flying in Thursday to bury her sister, Myer Funeral Home, on tenth,”

Chris nodded. “I think I’ll go and pay my respects.”

***

S
ammy Kaye opened his door and smiled slyly when he saw that Chris was by himself.

“Alone at last,”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Sammy; I’ve only come for information.”

“Oh handsome, give me a chance and you’ll learn a lot about yourself.”

Chris laughed, and then he noticed the suitcase near the sofa.

“Where are you headed?”

“Baltimore, there’s a chain of boutiques there that have shown an interest in my designs; I’m meeting their buyer tomorrow.”

“Good luck, but listen, I’m at a dead end on this case and I think you can help.”

“What case? I thought that the police had stopped investigating?”

“Officially they have, but I’m not buying the official version of what happened to Mira.”

Sammy’s hand flew to his throat.

“Good lord! You think she was murdered?”

“I do, and I need you to think. We know that Gary Rollins didn’t kill her, so who else might have done it?”

“Maybe it was one of those three men.” Sammy said.

“What three men?”

“You know; the three she dated that all got mugged? Maybe only two got mugged and the third was the mugger. If he faked his injuries, it would have thrown suspicion off of himself.”

Chris smiled. “I could almost kiss you.”

Sammy came closer. “Almost?”

Chris backed away. “It’s a figure of speech.”

As he was returning to the office, Chris called Delaney and told him Sammy’s theory. Delaney said that he’d look into it and get back to Chris.