The Case of the Running Bag - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A Receptionist and a Gun, Opened for Business

The next morning, I arrived at the diner. I went in and took a seat at the counter. Shanna saw me, poured a cup of coffee, and brought it to me. This girl had promise. She stopped and just looked at me for a minute and I realized that my coat was opened, and she could see the Colt. I closed my coat.
“I have to take it to the precinct today, so they can run a ballistics test. I have the cartridges in my pocket if you want to see.” I said.
A voice crept up behind me.
“Just what are you suggesting you show my daughter?” Betty asked.
I turned and paused. She wasn't dressed as a diner cook but in a business suit. Her auburn hair was up under a smart-looking hat, and she sure didn't look like anyone's mother. She was a knockout, but she still had that hands-off look about her. She would be perfect for the job as my receptionist.
“Uh, nothing,” I stammered. "I pack, uh, carry a Colt, I have to take it to take to ballistics, and she saw it...”
“Relax, Mr. Watcher, I heard the whole thing. I’ve had breakfast and turned in my notice, so if you have a key for me, I will go up and open the office.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key-ring and a couple of cartridges. I took the office key off the ring and started to hand it to her. Now she was looking at the bullets in my hand.
“I had no idea they were that large,” she said. “I have seen thirty-eights at the precinct when I worked there. There is a bit of a difference.”
I considered making an off-handed remark about mine being bigger but decided I wasn't prepared for the repercussions that Betty might unleash upon me. Instead, I got to business.
“We'll need new locks for the door and keys that we can keep track of. Can you handle that for me?” I asked.
She tilted her head with a look of “Really?” I smiled and dropped the key in her hand and her daughter cleared her throat.
“Coffee.”
I turned back around, “Yeah, and steak ‘n eggs, and OJ, please."
I heard the bell to the diner door as Betty left. The day was starting off okay; I just hoped it would stay that way. Shanna was quick with the breakfast, and I was done and off to the precinct to let them play with the Colt.
I was positive that the desk sergeant lived behind that desk. I entered, and he pointed at a door that said LAB. They were expecting me.
The lab was impressive. There was a large bay with solid tables and a lot of chemistry stuff placed about. Work stations consisted of partitioned-off cubicles. Several other large walled-off cubicles were identified as to purpose; Fingerprints, Organic Material, Blood Analysis, and a couple of others. There were two doors at the far end of the lab; one marked Morgue and the other Ballistics. I had found my destination.
The ballistics lab had a couple of long tables, several unique-looking microscopes, several guns on the wall, some charts of ammunition on the counters, and a couple of tanks filled with water. There was also a tank filled with slats and cotton batting. Two men were at the counters. The older one broke away and met me by the door.
“Mr. Watcher, I presume,” he said. “I am Dr. Wynant, chief of Ballistics. That is Edgar over there; he's a police officer helping me out. They rotate street officers through here as training.”
“It's an impressive lab,” I said.
“You have the Colt?” he asked.
I opened my coat and showed him my gun.
“Take it out with two fingers, please, Edgar over there can be very nervous, no need you getting shot over carelessness,” he said.
“I agree,” I replied.
I took out the Colt as instructed and handed it over. Dr. Wynant took and examined it. He went through the same process as the Lieutenant in the Discrete office. I wondered who trained who. He held out his hand.
“Bullets, please,” he said. He knew the Colt was empty by its weight, I nodded and handed him the three remaining cartridges. He looked at his hand as I dropped them into it. “Is that all you have?”
“That's it.”
“I’m afraid I'll use all of these in my tests,” he said.
He loaded the gun and walked over to the tank with the cotton batting. He set the Colt in a holder and turned to me. “Would you mind flipping that switch on the wall behind you?”
I walked over and did as he asked. I turned back and shrugged. Nothing seemed to have happened.
“It flashes red lights outside of this lab,” he said. “It lets everyone know I’m about to fire a weapon. Don't want a bunch of police running in here guns blazing, now do we?” he smiled.
“Firing, Edgar. Three,” he said.
He cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger, three times. There were disturbances in the tank marked by cotton batting holders jerking as the bullets passed through. The jerking stopped at about half the length of the tank. Edgar walked over to the last batting holder that moved and pulled it out. Three blackened marks were in the batting. With gloved hands, Edgar removed the three slugs. Dr. Wynant removed the three shells from the gun and gave them to a waiting Edgar. He took the Colt out of the holder and handed it back to me. Then we walked over and he flipped the switch off.
“All clear,” he said. “Take your gun and go, Mr. Watcher. If there are any problems, I am sure Lieutenant Sanders will let you know.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said, and I left.

Continued...

Chapter 7 - Staying Alive