Jeff Strand - Graverobbers Wanted - No Experience Necessary

The Apparition remained in the center of the room. He scratched at his beard with the handle of the revolver then pointed the barrel at me. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked, irritably.

I shook my head.

"It'spracticallydawn, that's what time it is! What is it with youbein ' out all night? How the hell am I supposed to get any sleep? I'm not as young as I used to be. I don't do well when I'm forced to prance all over towncleanin ' up after people! Give it afuckin ' rest!"

"I'm a bit confused," I admitted. "Are you the killer I'm looking for?"

"No, I am not the killer. I work for the killer. I work long, ridiculously late hours for the killer because you won't go to goddamn bed! Do you know where I was when you tripped the silent alarm? I was asleep,dreamin ' that I was in a hot tub with a half dozenVictoria 's Secret models! Do you know how hard it is for me to get that dream? Do you?"

I shook my head.

"It's hard as hell!"

"I'm sorry."

The Apparition began to pace back and forth. "I mean, it's bad enough that I'mreburyin ' coffins that you're too lazy to cover and getting' rid of cars with little pieces of people inside, but I should at least be able to get a tiny bit of sleep before I'm out herecheckin ' on you again! I know my boss is encouraging you to investigate, but why not stick to normalworkin ' hours, huh? Let me get some rest. How does that sound?"

"Who is your boss?" I asked.

"Oh, golly, you almost got me there!" said The Apparition, sarcastically. "With a cunning question like that I almost blew the whole thing! You're so damn clever, I don't know why you haven't figured it all out already!"

"Hey, it was worth a shot," I said. "You can never underestimate how foolish people can be in stressful situations."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.You know, I think I should just shoot you." He pointed the revolver at my face and took two steps forward. "Blow your head off then get myself some sleep."

"You're not really going to blow anybody's head off with that thing," I noted. "Even Dirty Harry exaggerated, and his gun was bigger than yours."

The Apparition glared at me. "Don't push me. I'm tired and cranky."

"Won't your boss be upset if you kill me?"

"My boss is welcome to pucker up and kiss my hemorrhoid-ridden butt."

"That's a poor work ethic."

"Be quiet. Anyway, if I were put in physical danger I'd be justified inshootin ' you, and who's going to know if I shot you while you weresittin ' peacefully on the couch or if you werelungin ' at me with a crowbar?"

"Well, if my blood was all over the couch that might provide a pretty decent clue," I pointed out.

"It doesn't really matter either way. If I don't kill you, things proceed as planned. If I do kill you, your part transfers to your buddy Roger. No big deal."

"I don't know, Roger's pretty unmotivated."

"Then I kill him and it transfers to your wife.Still no big deal."

My insides tightened a bit at that. "I'm the one who messed around in the graveyard and played Find the Spare Change in the Head. I think I've got some investment in this thing."

The Apparition nodded and lowered the gun. "You've got a point there. Maybe I won't kill you after all."

"Well, thank you. You're a kind and generous soul."

Then he shrugged and pointed the gun at my face again. "But to be honest, I'm already sick of you. I hope you can make peace with yourself in the next second and a half, because that's all you've got to live."

Chapter 13

OKAY, OBVIOUSLY I didn't die or I wouldn't be able to relate this tender little narrative.Unless, of course, I'm a ghost, writing these words through an Ouija board.Thatwould be pretty cool, but also incredibly time consuming, and the human I was channeling through would probably try to steal all the credit. Plus, becoming a ghost at the hands of a man named The Apparition would just be too ironic. So I lived.

"I know where the money is," I blurted out somewhere around the half-second mark.

The Apparition hesitated. "What money?"

"The money your boss was looking for."

"What are youbabblin ' about?"

"Here, let me speak in a way that you might understand." I spoke slowly, enunciating each word, as if talking to a not-very-bright infant. "I know where the money is. And if your boss wants it, you'd be well advised not to shoot me before I tell you where it is."

"My boss isn'tlookin ' for any money. You'rebluffin ' to save your life."

"No, I'm not. Did you notice the ceiling?"

The Apparition glanced up for a second. "What about the ceiling?"

"It's the clue that answered the riddle. A neat littlepuzzle , actually. Your boss would appreciate it. Looks like Michael Ashcraft came up with some interesting stuff on his own. I didn't figure it out until right before you showed up, but it's pretty clever."

The Apparition looked up once more, and then quickly returned his attention to me. "There'snothin ' on the ceiling."

"Sure there is. Look at the watermark."

"I don't see any watermark."

"Well, now, that's the trick. You've got to look at it from the right angle. I'll show you, but you have to promise not to kill me."

"I'm not promising you anything `ceptthat I'mgonna shoot you the second this starts to bore me. And I'mgettin ' very close."

"Okay, fine, just back up a couple steps."

Keeping the revolver focused on me, The Apparition took two steps backwards. "There'snothin ' there."

"Look carefully at the way the light hits the whitewash. When you're in exactly the right place, you'll see what I'm talking about."

"I don't see anything."

"Well, gee, Mr.The Apparition, you must not be in exactly the right place, then. Would you like me to get up and show you?"

"You keep your butt planted to that couch or you'regettin ' a bullet through the eye."

"Sounds good.Try one step to the left."

The Apparition took a step to the left, his foot coming down exactly where I'd hoped it would—on the tail of the cat. The cat let out a screech and latched onto his leg, claws and fangs moving like a garbage disposal. In the second that The Apparition was distracted, I lunged out of my seat and dove at him, my hands colliding with his throat and knocking him to the floor. I crouched down and smashed my knuckles into his wrist and made a grinding motion until he released his grip on the revolver, then I snatched it up and pushed it against his nose.

"Please get this cat off me," he said.

"The cat stays," I informed him. "Who do you work for?"

"None of your business."

"Unless you'd like a demonstration of the world's best cure for nasal decongestion, you'll start talking."

"If you kill me, I won't be able to say a word."

"Then I'll shoot you somewhere that won't kill you."

"Thensomebody'll hear the shots and call the police."

"Then you'll go to jail."

"I'd say that you shot me when I wastryin ' to stop you fromburglarizin ' my friend's house. Could you please get this cat off me?"

I could see that getting any information from him was going to require extreme measures. I stoodup, keeping the revolver pointed at him, and gently nudged the cat off his leg with my foot. It took off running down the hall, probably unaware that it had saved my life. Maybe I'd name it Reverse Snowflake.

"C'mon, Mr. App, it's time to start spilling your guts," I said. "After seeing that tape, you'd better believe that I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you to talk."

"Well then you should get started."

"I will."

The Apparition grinned. "Feelin'kind of tough right now, aren't you? I bet you don't get many chances to beat up a sleep-deprived old man."

"This is your last chance to answer some questions peacefully," I warned him. "There's a whole kitchen filled with utensils that will make the process much less pleasant."