Forty

 

2019

It is two days after my meeting with LoMack.  The matter is consuming me. I have to make this right or I will forever be wrong.  I cannot bring her back, but I can bring some closure to the parents, some retribution to the perp, and some comfort for me. I’ve made a tentative list of next steps and I am going through them at home when the phone rings. It’s LoMack.

“I found it.” He says to me.  “You wouldn’t believe how many boxes of nostalgia I had to go through.”

“You found it. Great. That’s great.” I snort a laugh.  “In a box of nostalgia. Nostalgia.”

“Did you know I won the sixth grade 100 yard dash on field day.”

“Somehow that news passed me by.  Probably not in the paper.”

“Nah. The Globe missed it. Covering the Red Sox or something. Also, got a leadership commendation for being a safety crossing guard.”

“You’re the cat’s pajamas, LoMack.  What did you find out?”

“You still haven’t told me why you are so interested in this ancient history.”

“I can’t get into it. Sorry. Maybe in a few weeks. I hope then.”

“Seems a bit strange is all.”  

“I know it must.” I say.  “Thank you for the effort.”

“It took me forever, but it was a nice trip down memory lane.  Maybe I am not such a stiff after all.  Some sweet reminders.”

“Find a note from the woman who called you, The Killer?” I said.

“I can’t believe I told you that. No, as a matter of fact, I did not find any note from her. When she dumped me she must have made a phone call. No tangible vestige of our encounter.  But I did see a card from another girlfriend.  Nice to read.”

“Glad to hear it.  Great. What did you find out about the maniac.”?

“Right. Tim.  Here’s what I know. His last name was--well still is I assume--Kowalski.  Kind of a common Polish name.  The car was registered to him in San Diego.”  LoMack starts to read the address.

“Do me a favor, LoMack, put the details in an e-mail.”   

“Sure, that makes more sense.”

“Good. Thanks.” I say.

“There’s one more thing Kozak.”

“What?”

“When I unearthed the registration, I saw that I had scribbled something in pencil on the registration itself.”

“What? What’d you write?”

“Well, at first, I couldn’t figure out what it was, but then I remembered what I did.”

“Okay. What did you do?’

“There are two phone numbers on the registration. And I couldn’t figure out who I would have called.  Then I remembered.”

“Get there LoMack.”

“Alright, Alright. I remembered that I thought that not having the registration would be a problem for the maniac if he got stopped—and since he was driving recklessly, he would likely get stopped. But there was no guarantee he would get stopped. So, it might not be a big deal my taking the registration.  He would, sure, notice it eventually, but then could just go get another registration.  A replacement. He’d figure he just lost the original, that’s all.  It might not be a big deal for him.”

“So.”

“So, I wanted it to be a big deal. I wanted him to pay for that insanity.”

“Alright, so. What’d you do?’

“Seeing the phone numbers that I’d written on the registration reminded me.”

“Come on, Lomack. Get there already.”

“Okay. Okay. Right.  What I did was I called the state police in Colorado, and then called the state police in Nebraska—the states on his likely route to Chicago. Those numbers on the registration were the state police numbers.”

“You called the state police? What for? What did you tell them?”

“I told them that I was hitch hiking in New Mexico and the driver who picked me up was going to Chicago.”

“Yeah so.” 

“And this driver going to Chicago, kept bragging that he’d stolen the car we were driving in.”

“Whoa.” I said. “You said what?”

“I told the cops that some guy who picked me up was driving a stolen car. Told them I was just doing my civic duty. Told them that I had taken down the thief’s license plate. Gave them the plate and make of the car.”

“Well done, LoMack..”

“Like to see the bastard’s kisser when he got pulled over for driving a stolen car and could not find the registration.”

“That’s a sweet image. Good job, LoMack.”

“Not bad for a guy who sells dishwashers.”

“Not bad at all” I say.  “Didn’t they ask you for your name?”

“They did, but I didn’t stay on the line.” Said LoMack.

“They couldn’t trace the call?”

“Nah” said LoMack. “I called from a pay phone. No cells then. This was 1974; they couldn’t trace a one-minute call from a phone booth. Now, 2019, you call the cops and burp, they know the names of your cousins.”

“You think of calling the other states on his route?”

“I called Colorado first. When I called Nebraska they said they already had the information about the stolen car. So I figured Colorado told everyone.”

“Good work. Thank you.” I said again. “If you were nearby I’d shake your hand. A hug, maybe.”

“Don’t push it. Seriously, thank you Kozack. Yesterday I felt real good for the first time in a while when I reconstructed it all. The guy was a lunatic.  It felt, I don’t know, liberating, medicinal even—sounds corny but it did--to recall that I did something that probably slowed that bastard down. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” I said. I did.

“I’ll send you the registration information.” LoMack said.  “Hey, why don’t I just scan the registration and send it to you as an attachment.”

“That would be better. You can do that?’

“Hey, you’re talking to a guy who won the sixth grade 100 yard dash on field day and won a leadership award. I can do more than sell refrigerators.  I’ll be in touch.”

I hang up with LoMack and call Becca at work.

“Rebecca Carey.” She said

“Very official sounding. ‘Rebecca Carey’” I mimicked.

“What’s up Z.”

“Tim. The one who backed up down the highway; the guy who wanted me to rob a gas station. His last name is Kowalski.  I’ll have some more information about him by tonight or tomorrow. I’ll e-mail it to you as soon as I receive it.”

“Ok.  I’ll get on it. I’m busy at work now, but I can probably get to it tomorrow night.”

“Of course, that’s fine.”

“Z.”

“Yeah.”

“There are a number of suspects who are out.”

“You don’t say.”

“We’ll talk.” 

“I told you, Becca, I know who did this.”

“We’ll talk.”