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Bottom-Feeders

Written by John Zeek

Freddy Genucci found the body lying on his front lawn. Freddy was a little shaken up. Some people might find that odd, since Freddy was a funeral director and was used to dead bodies. But his normal line of work didn't involve bodies leaking on his front lawn. Besides, no one expects to see a gaping wound across a man's throat when they try to wake up what looks like a drunk.

When the call came into the Grantville police station, the desk was manned by Emil Zollner. He shouldn't have been given that much responsibility, but he was there because of Dan Frost's soft heart. Emil normally worked as a foot patrolman, but he had tripped going down the station steps and gotten a twisted ankle. Rather than have him miss a week's pay, Dan had given him desk duty.

Emil's English was not the best and Freddy was excited, so the message came across a bit garbled. In the end Emil sent two patrolmen to Freddy's house.

As he sat in the passenger seat, Jurgen Neubert watched Marvin Tipton as he drove the police car. I have to learn to drive, he thought. These Americans will never believe I am a policeman if I don't. Still, it could be worse. I could be doing foot patrol.

Jurgen thought back to the time before he had heard of Grantville. He had been happy enough as a farmer, before Tilly and his army came. Still, this was a lot more interesting work. And he got to meet so many people. In the past few months, he'd met more people than he'd known in his whole life before.

Jurgen slid his hand to his belt to check, for the fifth time today, that his handgun was still in his holster. The revolver, what the Americans called a Colt Python, was one of the finest made pieces of machinery he had ever seen. Jurgen was still surprised that Chief Frost had trusted him to carry it. After checking his gun, Jurgen checked his other equipment, the "slapjack" riding in the almost-hidden pocket on his right leg, the side handle baton on its clip on the car door, and most especially the "ballpoint" pen he had been given just this morning. Tipton had explained, when he gave him the pen, that in a two-man car one man was the driver and one was the writer.

Jurgen was proud at being trusted to keep the records of their day. All in all, he thought, this was a better life than farming. A position of trust. He slipped his hand up to finger the badge that was the symbol of his office. New clothing, too, though the uniform trousers he had been issued were tighter and not as comfortable as the slops he normally wore. Most of all, it was a job worth doing, protecting the people and property of his new city.

Just then the radio squawked, "Base to car one."

Jurgen picked up the mike and answered, "Car one."

"Unknown trouble at number two Happy Hills. Contact Mr. Freddy Genucci."

"Clear base. Car one en route to Happy Hills." Jurgen saw Tipton nod his head, showing he had heard the message.

As Jurgen wrote the call on the record sheet, Tipton asked, "You have relatives out on Happy Hills don't you?"

"Ja, my cousin Jost and his family rent a house and farm there. My cousin Mina works for Herr Genucci. I hope nothing has happened to the Genuccis. They are nice people."

"Well, I don't like unknown trouble calls. Stay alert until we find out what's going on. I wish Emil had gotten more information." Tipton increased the speed of the cruiser.

Surely it is not another raid, Jurgen thought as he remembered the terror of the ride out to the high school with Hans driving the bus. He had emptied his revolver and forgotten how to reload, so he had relied on the shotgun someone had thrust into his hands. He checked his revolver again and looked at the shotgun mounted on the cage behind him.

When they arrived at the Genucci house, Jurgen was relieved to see Mr. Genucci standing beside the front door. Mr. Genucci was visibly upset and kept pointing to the body on the front lawn. "Look there. He was lying there when I went out to watch the sunrise this morning."

As Jurgen went to check the body, he heard Tipton ask, "Know who it is, Freddy?"

"It's Tommy Cooper. Not the old man but his son. The one everybody calls Young Tommy."

Looking at the body, Jurgen wondered why a man who appeared to be in his fifties would be called "Young Tommy." Jurgen, who had seen his share of dead bodies, was also surprised at the injuries. Young Tommy's head was almost cut off. It was nearly severed by the deep cut across his throat. Only the bones of his spine were not cut through.

"Shoot, I hate the idea of going to tell his old man someone killed him," Officer Tipton said as he walked over to stand by Jurgen. "Freddy, did you hear anything before you found the body?"

"No, Marvin, our bedroom is in the back of the house and we can't hear anything out front when we are in there. Though I thought I heard something right after I went to bed last night that sounded like a backfire from a car. You know how bad some cars are running on natural gas or alcohol. I just thought it was a car on the road."

"Don't think it was a car that killed him. Jurgen, go call the office and tell them what we have and tell them to send an ambulance. Don't use Cooper's name on the radio. No sense letting anyone with a scanner know our business. There needs to be an autopsy, though it's pretty obvious what killed him."

As Jurgen went to the car, he saw his cousins Jost Neubert and Mina Matz walking toward the Genucci house. "Jost, Mina, stay here by the car. We have a problem at the house."

While he waited by the car, Jurgen told Jost what had happened. Jost seemed to be worried. "What is the matter? Did you know Cooper?"

"Ja, I purchased a little tractor from him and his brother. They tried to cheat me."

While Jurgen was thinking about that, he noticed Mr. Genucci was pointing toward Jost, and Officer Tipton had his notebook out and was taking notes.

Jurgen decided he should find out everything that happened between Jost and the Coopers. So, taking out his notebook he asked, "How did they try to cheat you?"

"They sold me a little tractor. It was like the one that came with the farm I rented from Herr Moritz. I thought having two would be even more help around the farm. They said it was ready to run on alcohol like the one I have. But when Herr Genucci looked at it, he said it had to be worked on to even run, much less run on the alcohol we make. But I saw it run, they were plowing a field with it."

"How did you pay for the tractor?"

"With the silver I had when I came here. I didn't change it all to paper money. Herr Genucci threatened to take them to court and they gave me half my money back. He is helping to fix the tractor and I help him around his funeral parlor."

"Jost, when did this happen and have you seen either one of them, this one or his brother, since you got your money back?"

"I bought the tractor last week, but it was only yesterday that I got my money back. It was the brother who gave me the money. He paid me in paper money, but Herr Genucci says it is good. I haven't seen Tommy since last week. But I saw the brother, they call him G. C., early this morning. Him and his wife were walking toward their home when I went to check on the cow."

"Do you have any idea what time that was? When you went to check on the cow, I mean?"

"Ja, we have a clock and I checked it when I came back in. It was five-thirty when I came in, so say five o'clock when I saw G. C."

Jurgen noticed Jost was wearing a belt knife, the same knife he always wore. Jost had always been a bit of a miser when it came to money. Jurgen remembered one time in their village Jost had got in a fight over who owned a chicken.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Officer Tipton waving him over. "Stay here, Jost. I have a few more questions for you and Mina."

"Well, what does your cousin say?" Tipton asked as Jurgen joined him.

Jurgen gave him a quick run-through of what Jost had told him. Tipton nodded. "Yeah, that checks with what Genucci has to say. Except he said Jost was a little more upset about the Coopers trying to cheat him." Tipton squatted to get closer to the body. "Think Jost was mad enough to do that to him?"

Jurgen was reluctant to answer. Tipton was asking him to accuse his cousin of murder, but in his mind it looked like Jost was a prime suspect. Before Tipton could press him for an answer, they were interrupted by the arrival of the ambulance, closely followed by another squad car with Chief Frost at the wheel.

Dan Frost walked up to the body. After looking around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, he said, "Boys, this is going to be a hot one. We have to solve it fast. The Coopers are in tight with the Club 250 crowd, and you know they're going to make a stink if we don't."

Tipton shook his head. "Boss, we have a suspect with a motive, but I don't think he did the killing." Jurgen's heart dropped into his boots. Tipton had to be referring to Jost.

After he had seen their notes, Frost said: "Okay, you two are in charge of the investigation, but keep me informed. If we were still up-time I'd call in the state police, but here and now we have limited resources. If you need more people, ask for them. Get Jost's knife. Dr. Nichols' people can run a comparison check to find any human blood on it."

Jurgen walked back to where Jost and Mina were standing. "Jost, we are going to need your knife for tests. If the test comes back negative, you'll get it back."

"Jurgen, I did not kill that man. I haven't even seen him since last week. Ask Mina, ask Franziska, my wife. I never left the house, except to check on the cow. And I was still in my nightshirt when I went to the barn to check the cow."

"If we check your knife, and there is no blood on it, that will prove you didn't kill him. But we are going to have to check your knife."

"But there is blood on it. I used it to kill a chicken yesterday." Jost untied his belt and pulled the sheathed knife from it.

Jurgen remembered the lecture Dr. Nichols had given during his police training. "Jost, they can tell the difference between the blood of a chicken and a man's blood." As Jurgen took the knife, he added, "This will prove your knife didn't kill him. If you didn't kill him you have nothing to worry about."

Watching Jost, Jurgen could see he wasn't too sure about this whole process. Well, that was easy to understand. They were all strangers here.

As they watched the body being loaded into the ambulance, Officer Tipton joined them. When he saw the knife in Jurgen's hand, he turned to Jost. "When this is all cleared up, I'll make sure you get your knife back. Come on, Jurgen, we need to go out to the Coopers' and tell them what happened."

When the two were in the car, Jurgen had to ask, "Do you think Jost did it?"

"Nope. Oh, I bet Jost has a temper, and if you pushed him enough he could kill. But somehow it just doesn't fit. Besides, there's Tommy's pistol. Or, to be exact, there is the pistol Tommy didn't have."

"What?"

"Tommy always carried an old revolver in his hip pocket. I should know, I took it off him one time before the Ring of Fire. Dan gave it back to his dad, but Tommy had it when I saw him last week. But when I checked the body, there was no revolver. So whoever killed him probably took the revolver. In addition he still had some silver coins in his pockets. Not likely that Jost would kill him over money and not take the money."

"Strange that whoever took the revolver didn't take the money, though."

"Murder cases are always strange, you ask me. And that pistol is going to be a real lead if we find it."

"Why, Marvin? I mean, there must be lots of pistols like it in Grantville."

"Not like this one. It's an old Smith .32-20. I doubt there was another like it in Grantville. I know that even before the Ring of Fire cartridges for it were rare."

"We can talk to Herr Santee and Herr Johnson, since they are doing the most reloading, and see if anyone else has one."

Jurgen noticed that Officer Tipton gave him a surprised look. Why? Chief Frost had told Jurgen to learn about people in the town.

Finally, Tipton nodded his head. "Good idea. We'll run by Johnson's place after we talk to the Coopers and check with Santee when we head into town. By the way, when we get to the Coopers', let me do the talking. They are going to be tough to deal with. They always are. But we don't need to stir them up even more by having you talk to them."

"Why would I upset them?"

Tipton glanced at him. "G. C. and `Old' Tommy are . . . well. Do you know the term `rednecks'?"

"Ja, the Club 250 crowd." Suddenly it all made sense. The people around the Club 250 didn't like their new German neighbors.

"There you go. All the Coopers are regulars at the 250. In fact G. C.'s wife works there as a cook and waitress. Your English is very good, better than my German, but you still have an accent. That accent would be just enough to set the Coopers off. Sorry, partner, but that's how it is."

As Jurgen thought about what Tipton had said, he noticed a discoloration in the grass by the road. "Stop the car. I see something!"

Tipton brought the car to a halt and the two walked back to discover a large patch of what had to be blood in the grass beside the road. Nearby, the high grass was flattened down as if a heavy weight had been rolled over it.

"Good eyes, Jurgen, I would have missed this." Tipton pulled out a couple of paper envelopes to collect samples.

"What do you think, Marvin? Was Cooper cut here and the body moved?"

"Well, someone was cut here. We won't know if it was Tommy until we get some lab work done. I didn't think there was enough blood back in the Genucci yard."

Looking down the road, Jurgen estimated they were about two hundred yards from where the body was found. Then he noticed the bark on a nearby sapling had a large split. Walking over to it, he found what looked a lot like a bullet hole. "Hey, Marvin, look here. I think we found the sound Herr Genucci heard."

Tipton came over. "Yep, that sure looks like a fresh bullet hole to me. Want to bet when we dig out the bullet it's a .32? I'll get the saw out of the trunk and we can cut out the part of the tree with the bullet in it and take it with us."

As Tipton walked back to the car, Jurgen continued to study the ground around the blood splatter. A few feet away, he found a jacket made from the fabric the Americans called denim or blue jeans. Bending to look closer, he saw bloodstains on one of the sleeves. "Marvin, I found a jacket with blood on it."

Tipton was back now, with the saw. He squatted to look at the jacket. "Wasn't Tommy wearing a jacket?" he asked. "This might belong to whoever stabbed him."

Tipton and Jurgen both started making drawings of what they now believed was the murder site.

"Damn, I wish we still had enough film to take pictures. A camera would be better than any drawing we can make."

Jurgen had to agree. He had seen some of the almost magical pictures in the files of the police station. "Marvin, do you have the jacket in your drawing? I am going to get a bag out of the car so we can collect it as evidence."

"Got it. Hey, hold it up first. I want to see what size it is."

As jurgen lifted the Jacket, he realized it was too small for even an average-size man and was either a woman's or a child's jacket. It was also badly torn at the shoulder of the bloodstained sleeve.

"Just like I thought. It looked a little small." Tipton hefted the saw. "Get the bag and I'll cut down the sapling. Then we can head on out to the Coopers'."

When they pulled into the Coopers' driveway, Jurgen saw that the house was very run-down. Not like many of the houses in Grantville, which needed a coat of paint, but in need of major repairs. He could see that a number of the roof shingles were missing and the eaves had missing boards. In the rear of the house was what the Americans called a "mobile home," though Jurgen himself had never seen one move. Parked near the side of the house was a smaller mobile home—what the Americans usually called a "camp trailer."

A burly-looking man came out of the front door.

"That's G. C.," Tipton said. "Guess we get to talk to him first."

"What the hell you want?" Cooper demanded, as the two policemen got out of the car.

"Cooper, I need to talk with your dad."

"What about?" G. C. looked at Jurgen. "You're one of those krauts they put on the police, ain't you?"

"Cooper, you're starting to get on my nerves," Tipton said, before Jurgen could answer. "Now go get your dad before I start thinking about an obstruction-of-justice charge."

"Come on, then, follow me. His place is around back. Don't want no kraut in my house."

As Cooper led them around the house toward the mobile home, Jurgen spotted the outline of a small pistol in his right hip pocket. He also noticed that Tipton had unsnapped the safety strap on his holster.

"Hey, Dad! A couple of cops here wanting to talk to you!" G. C. yelled, as he knocked on the door. "One of them is a kraut."

"Marvin Tipton, you got a lot of nerve bringing one of those Germans on my property," was the first thing the older Cooper said as he looked out through the screen door.

"Mr. Cooper, could you step outside or could we come in? What I have to say is not the sort of thing I want to yell through a screen door."

"Wait, let me get a shirt on and I'll come out."

As they waited, Jurgen looked around the yard. Next to the rear of the camp trailer he saw a very beat-up garden tractor. That must be like the one they sold Jost, he thought, hoping the one his cousin got was in better shape.

Old man Cooper finally came out of the mobile home. "All right, what's so important that you have to drag an old man out of bed? I'm not a well man, you know. This better be important." Jurgen could believe Cooper was not a well man. He could hear him wheezing from ten feet away.

"Mr. Cooper, G. C., this isn't easy to say, but Young Tommy was found dead this morning. It looks like someone killed him."

"What! Someone murdered my boy?" The older Cooper sat down heavily on the steps. But Jurgen noticed that G. C. didn't seem as shocked as his father.

The old man let out a couple of inarticulate gasps. Then he started yelling. "Gladys! Gladys, come here! Somebody's killed our boy!"

From the back door of the house an older woman came running, followed by a middle-aged woman.

Tipton leaned over and whispered, "Gladys and Connie Cooper. Old Tommy's wife and G. C.'s wife."

After what seemed like an hour of wailing and inarticulate muttering, the two older Coopers went into the mobile home.

"Okay, Marvin," muttered G. C., "it looks like I'm the one stuck with making arrangements. Where's my brother?"

"He's down at the medical center and you can have whoever is doing the funeral pick up the body. You don't have to go identify him. We positively identified him. Hell, I've known Tommy seems like my whole life."

"Who killed him?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, G. C. Do you know where he was last night?"

"Yeah, he was down at the Club. In fact he was supposed to walk Connie home, but he took off. I got hung up at the garage and asked him to get her."

Tipton turned to look at Cooper's wife. "That right, Connie?"

"That's right," the woman answered. Jurgen noticed that she was looking at her husband, not at Tipton as she talked. "I was working till twelve and Tommy was supposed to walk me home, but around eleven I noticed he was gone. So I called G. C. at the garage."

"And you went over and got her?" When G. C. nodded, Tipton continued. "What time was that, G. C.?"

"Oh, it was about twelve, twelve-fifteen. They were just closing when I got there. Connie was waiting outside so I didn't go in."

"If you didn't go in, I guess you don't know who was there."

"Well, I saw Wilda Bates and her daughter Marlene leaving and I saw Ape Hart walking with them, but I doubt if they saw me."

"Connie, who all was in the Club 250 last night?"

"I can't really say. I was in the kitchen most of the night. Ken, you know Ken Beasley, got a mess of venison steaks and I spent most of the night cooking instead of waiting tables. Then when I came out of the kitchen about eleven, I noticed Tommy was gone and I called G. C."

"If you're thinking someone from the Club killed him you're way off base. Forget it." G. C. glanced at Jurgen. "Using a knife sounds like a kraut to me."

"Why, G. C.? Has Tommy had any run-ins with some of our German citizens lately? We did hear something about a tractor."

"Tractor? Yeah, me and Tommy sold a tractor to that kraut that rents from Ted Moritz. Neubert is his name, I think. He wasn't happy with the deal. He even got Freddy Genucci to threaten to sue us. Is that about all you want to know? I got to make some calls. Got to find someone to do the funeral. No way I want that Genucci touching my brother."

"One last question." Tipton raised his hand to stop Cooper from walking off. "When you brought Connie home, did you notice anything as you walked by the end of Happy Hills? What would that have been, about twelve-thirty or one o'clock?"

G. C. seemed to think a bit. "No, we didn't see anything odd, and it was closer to one than twelve-thirty. If that's all, I really have to make those calls."

"Yeah, G. C. that just about does it. If we need anything else, we'll get in touch with you. Call the station if you think of anything new."

As the two policemen walked back to their car Tipton asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"Marvin, did you notice that when the wife was answering she was always looking at her husband?"

"Caught that, did you? It was almost like she was checking with him to see if her story was right. Of course the thing that made me wonder was how G. C. knew Tommy was killed with a knife. I never told him how Tommy was killed, and I doubt Freddy Genucci called him. Makes you wonder, doesn't it."

As they got to the car Jurgen looked across the top and asked, "Were you really friends with them? They seem to dislike you now."

Tipton gave a little laugh. "Yeah, Tommy and me were pretty close, but we were kids then. Our friendship ended when I put on this uniform. His choice, not mine. Sometimes that happens. You better get ready. It can happen to you. Wait and see when you have to arrest someone who's a friend."

As they started to pull out of the Coopers' drive, a school bus stopped across the end of the driveway and unloaded the younger Cooper children and the Craigs who lived on the other side of the road. As they waited for the school bus to pass, Tipton looked at his watch. "That's the two-thirty bus. Henry Johnson should be on that bus, on his way home from the middle school. We might as well follow it to the Johnson place and talk to him now."

"Ja, since he lives so close to the Coopers it is a good possibility he does their reloading."

When the bus stopped in front of the Johnson drive, they were proven right when they saw Henry and the four Schultz and Ekhard children get off and head up the drive.

"Henry! Henry Johnson!" Tipton yelled as they pulled into the drive. "Can we talk to you?"

They saw Johnson stop and wave to them. "Hi, Marvin. Come on up to the house. I bet I can find you and your partner something cold to drink."

As they followed Johnson up the drive, Jurgen noticed the bulge under his coat. That had to be a pistol, he thought. Thinking about it some more, he was not surprised. Johnson was one of only three male teachers at the middle school, and since the raid, people had realized the schools were major targets for the enemies of Grantville.

Soon the three were seated in the Johnson living room with glasses of iced coffee in their hands. Tipton and Jurgen had followed Johnson's lead and hung their gun belts on the hooks by the front door. Tipton sipped his coffee and then asked, "Henry, have you met my partner, Jurgen Neubert?"

"Can't say that I have." Johnson extended his hand. "Good to meet you, Officer Neubert. Now I doubt this is a social call, so what can I do for you?"

"Henry, we're trying to get a line on Young Tommy Cooper's pistol and thought he might have come to you for reloaded ammo."

Johnson chuckled. "What's Tommy done now? And, yes, I know his gun, if you're talking about the Smith .32-20 Hand Ejector."

"As far as we know Tommy didn't do anything but get himself killed. His pistol is missing and we're trying to track it down."

"We thought you might know if anyone else had a revolver in that caliber," Jurgen interjected. "And could tell us if anyone tried to buy cartridges to fit it."

"Tommy got himself killed," Johnson mused. "Can't say I'm surprised or too broken up about it. I don't have a lot of use for the whole family, frankly. Oh, I do business with them, but I keep a sharp eye on them. To answer your questions, I reloaded eighteen rounds for Young Tommy a couple of weeks ago. All the cases he had. I can do a lot when it comes to reloading, but I don't make cases for a .32-20, it's a bit of an oddball. And as far as I know there are only two other .32-20s in town, both rifles. You should check with Paul Santee, he does a lot of the rarer cartridges, but I would bet that three .32-20s are all you'll find."

"Herr Johnson, if you could see a bullet could you tell us if it was one of the ones you reloaded for Cooper?" Jurgen asked.

"You're talking about a fired bullet? Maybe, if it's not too damaged, but I loaded soft-lead round noses for Tommy. If it hit something hard it's going to have flattened out quite a bit."

"It's in a tree," Tipton said. "When we dig it out, we'll bring it out to show you."

Johnson thought a minute, "I doubt I can tell much. But you might weigh the bullet. Most .32s use a ninety- or ninety-five-grain bullet. A .32-20, on the other hand, uses a hundred-and-ten-grain bullet. I don't know if that's any help, though."

"Thank you, Herr Johnson, that might help."

"It's nothing. I am happy to help."

"No, really, Henry," Tipton said, "this really helps out. I have one more favor to ask though. Can I use your phone to call the office? I want to check and see if any word has come ...