A Hole In One by Paul Weininger (10 best books of all time txt) 📕

happened so fast that when I heard the shots, the vehicle where the shots came from was long gone, or I would have left my post and chased after it.”

“Okay, Steve. I want you to take the first shift of watching his house overnight. Be careful and make sure that no one takes you out before they get to Bloom. And yes, I’ll pay you overtime. Sommerville will have your replacement there by 8:00 a.m. in the morning.”

“Ten-four. I’ll keep my eyes open and follow him if he leaves the house. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.”

“Dispatch, I’m heading back to the custodian’s house,” said Pratt.

Thirteen

Pratt immediately called Jason Somerville on his radio; Jason would frequently partner with him on one crime or another. “You need to put out an APB for an old greenish pickup, on Andrew Douglas Road in the Forest Highlands community.”

Within ten minutes a response came back from one of the units. “Detective Sommerville, we stopped an old green pickup. The driver was a white male with a grunge look. A little like Charlie Manson only slightly bald on top. He permitted us to search him and his vehicle. We didn’t find any weapons on him or in the cab of his vehicle. All he had in the truck was shovels, hand saws, a chain saw, a toolbox and a wheelbarrow.”

“Identify yourself, officer. Did you ask him what he was doing in the area?” Pratt asked, since he was also listening.

“This is Officer Rob McCoy, and yes sir, I asked him what he was doing in the area and he said he was doing some landscaping on 1933 Majestic Dr., just two minutes away. We confirmed it with the owners at that address, so it seems that he has an alibi. He even said we could check with his boss at Greenery Landscaping in Sedona.”

“Did you check the bed of his truck?”

“Yes sir, I did, just more landscaping tools.”

“What about under the front seat in his cab?” asked Pratt.

“Oh shit! I forgot to look under the front seat, I’m sorry sir.”

Pratt speculated that the officer must have been a recent grad from the academy, having made such a dumb mistake. He got back on the radio and ordered Officer McCoy to, “Get back in your black and white and try and find the pickup again and this time handcuff him for your safety and search under the front seat. You also better hope that we don’t learn later that he was carrying a weapon in his truck and discarded somewhere right after you stopped him, or else you’ll be on your hands and knees searching that truck’s entire route looking for a weapon.”

“Ten-four,” replied the embarrassed McCoy.

◆◆◆

Twenty minutes later, Pratt returned to Andre’s house and parked his car. He looked around and noticed the neighbors looking at him again. Some were just standing in front of their houses and others were sitting on their stoop, but every pair of eyes except for the kids were focused on him. He knocked on Andre’s door again. only this time a woman answered the door.

“Good afternoon ma’am. I don’t believe we met before. My name is Detective Johnny Pratt and I need to speak to Andre again.”

“Yes, I was expecting you sooner or later. I’m his wife Olivia and he told me about the fifteen seconds you spent here the last time to ask him questions about the shooting at the synagogue but had to leave as soon as you got here. Don’t know what happened but I’m sure you had a good reason to leave, Detective.”

“What happened the last time was I got a call about another shooting and had to get there as quickly as I could. Is Andre available for me to speak to?”

“Yes, I’ll get him from the backyard. He has a little tomato patch back there and you won’t believe how well he grows them. Why, we must get at least seventy-five tomatoes each season from that small patch.” Pointing to an upholstered chair in the corner of the living room, she said, “Please have a seat on that chair, he’ll be right in.”

“Thank you, ma’am” Pratt replied politely.

Andre came in from outside through the kitchen door and washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He approached the detective nervously and said, “Well hello, Detective, another round of five seconds of questioning?” attempting at a bit of humor to lessen his own nervousness.

“May I call you Andre or Mr....” as he was interrupted.

“Hernandez, Detective, Andre Hernandez but it’s fine to call me Andre, that’s what everyone calls me.”

“All right, Andre, please tell me how you got involved in the shooting of Mr. Green.”

“Detective, sir, I did not get involved in the shooting of Mr. Green.”

“I apologize for my poor wording, Mr. Hernandez. Can you tell me how you learned of the shooting?”

“I was cleaning the synagogue after Rabbi Bloom left out back. That’s where we park our cars you know. I was walking through the rows sweeping the floor and wiping any marks off the benches. Sometimes somebody drops a piece of gum and I have to pick it up.”

“I understand all that Mr. Hernandez; would you please tell me about the gun shots?” Pratt coaxed him.

“I’m sorry, Detective. Like I told the other police officers, I heard two gunshots. I dropped the broom and went out the front doors to see what was happening. Mr. Green was lying in a pool of blood on the front walkway and grabbing his lower backside.”

“What made you think they were gunshots?”

“Well sir, I served in the Marines fighting the Viet Cong and believe you me, I know a gunshot when I hear one.”

“I see. Thank you for your service, Andre, now please continue.”

“I checked to see if Mr. Green was still breathing and when I felt his breath, I immediately ran inside to my custodian’s closet and found some clean rags. Then I ran out to help Mr. Green by using the rags