Fish Farm by Walt Sautter (ereader for android TXT) 📖

and put it back behind the peas.
“But now, what about Clyde?” he thought.
He walked to the living room, snapped on the TV and sat in front of it with a blind stare. The banter from the television droned in the background of his thoughts.
Suddenly, his trance like state was interrupted.
“James Wheeler has been released from prison after serving four months of his six month sentence. He pleaded guilty to malfeasance and embezzlement in the collapse of Tyron Industries early last year. The failure of Tyron cost thousands their jobs and their life savings.
Mr. Wheeler left Tacomy State Prison without comment. He is still suspected of depositing millions in off shore accounts hidden from attack by creditors and pension fund officials.
Wheeler with met by his wife and attorney and hustled into a waiting limo without uttering a single word.
We will have a complete special report on the Tyron Caper as it’s called tonight at nine.
Now the weather with Mark B…….”
“Son of a bitch” he thought.
“Fucking four months after ruining the lives of thousands!”
“Released from prison after serving four months”, the words reverberated through his mind over and over. He arose twice that night, each time going to the living room and sitting for an hour, attempting to regain his composure so that he might sleep. Finally, at the third awakening he went to the medicine cabinet exhausted by his thoughts. Three milligrams of Xanax and sleep was his.
A restful night did little to cure the fire within him. He arose early the next morning and when straight to the corner candy store for the paper. Once at home, he read and reread the article over and over describing Wheeler’s crimes and the details of his release. More he read, the more infuriated he again became. As the anxiety rose within him he realized that inaction would never soothe his anger.
He walked into the living and sat before the blank television with a vacant stare.
“Spies are a most important element in war, because on them depends an army’s ability to move” Sun Tzu, The Art of War, it came to him through him haze of rage.
Now, he had to clear his mind and think. He saw the pictures of Wheeler leaving his limo and entering his New York apartment building on television last night.
“The looked so familiar, but where?” he thought.
He closed his eyes and strained to recall. Minutes passed.
“East seventy eighth! That’s it! Up by the park” he remembered.
He’d been by it numerous times when he was a kid. Aunt Mildred lived up in that area. The building looked exactly the same on TV as it did then.
He sat for a moment, gloating in self satisfaction for having remembered it.
Chapter 12
He didn’t know what to do next but Sun Tzu’s words echoed and reechoed in his head as he board the bus to the City the following day. He arrived at East Seventy eighth at seven A.M. and found a bench at the edge of the park just across from Wheeler’s building. He took a small radio from his pocket put on its headphones, adjusted his sunglasses. There he sat waiting, for what, he didn’t really know.
An hour passed, then two and three. A continuous flow of people, although sporadic, entered and left the building. At ten twenty-seven a familiar image appeared in the doorway. It was Wheeler led by a small white dog on a leash. He exited the building, and turned left, walking slowly down the street stopping periodically as the dog carried on his sniffing and marking activities. He rounded the corner and walked down the street disappearing in the distance.
After ten minutes or so he reappeared rounding the opposite corner carrying a newspaper under one arm and reentered the building. Jack continued to wait. Morning became afternoon. At three seventeen, a petite, white haired woman exited the building with the same small, white dog in tow. She too turned the corner, walked down the same side street only to again reappear about ten minutes later and reenter the building.
Jack arose from his perch with legs cramped from the nearly eight hour sit and boarded the bus for home. As the bus meandered through the City with its frequent stops, back towards home, he thought.
“Now what?” he questioned himself.
The very next day he found himself in the same position, on the vary same bench. It was as if he was compelled by some inner force. He found himself in a trance like state, acting independent of his own free will. He had to do what he had to do driven by an unrelenting obsession within him. But for what ultimate purpose he didn’t know. What urged him onward?
Was it revenge?
Justice?
Hatred?
Thrill?
Maybe just ego and fantasy!
He wasn’t really sure. The only thing of which he was sure was that he must continue or never experience inner peace. It was a tormenting itch that had to be scratched.
Again he waited. Wheeler and the dog left the building again; ten fifteen to be exact. The white haired woman and the dog again left at three twelve and Jack again rode back home on the twisting, lurching bus ride and again with no knowledge of what he would do next or why.
After a week of patient watching, it struck him. It was the perfect plan. Its execution would surely tame the angst that ceaselessly gnawed at his consciousness.
That evening, he sat motionless in the quiet of his living room, musing intently on the details of his plan.
Suddenly, a loud, solid raping sounded at his apartment door. He peered through the tiny peep hole to see Clyde. He attached the chain latch and cracked open the door.
“I come for my money, Man. I sure hope you got it” he announced in a stern voice.
“Yeah, I got it” replied Jack as he released the latch and opened the door.
Clyde entered and stood solemnly in the doorway.
“One minute” said Jack as he turned and walked to the bedroom.
He returned to the living room to find Clyde holding a gun stretched at arms length, pointed straight at him.
“Hey Man, what the fuck is going on here?” exclaimed Jack in a startled tone.
“Wanted to make sure you’re comin’ back with the cash and nothing’ else” he replied as he lowered his gun.
Jack handed him an envelope which Clyde immediately opened and began counting the money it contained.
“Forty two hundred, sounds about right” he said as he finished counting and stuffed the wade of bills into his pocket.
“I’m sure you kept a little for yourself but that’s okay by me, as long as I got mine. I’m no hog” he continued as he turned and walked towards the door.
“Wait a minute” said Jack as Clyde reached for the door knob.
“Wanta make some real money, real easy?”
Clyde turned immediately.
“Like how?” he asked.
“Come on in the kitchen and have a beer and I’ll tell ya how” answered Jack.
He pulled two bottle from the fridge and they sat down at the table.
“Did you ever hear of James Wheeler?” asked Jack.
“Was I supposed to?” answered Clyde curiously.
“How about Tyron?” continued Jack.
“Never did. Never heard of neither” came the reply.
“I used to work for Tyron. Have a pretty good job there. Then one day the whole company collapsed. My job, my pension, everything, right down the shit can.
The guy who ran the company, was this James Wheeler. They charged him with embezzlement and stealing all the money but they couldn’t make it stick. The Feds worked their asses off for over a year but couldn’t come up with enough. The word was that he’d salted away a bunch of cash off shore but like I said the Feds could never find it. He kept saying that when Tyron went down he lost his ass too. In the end they got him on some little shit and he only did a year and a half.
I saw him on TV about two week ago when he got released. He lives over in the city and I’ve been over there a bunch of times doin’ some surveillance. I know he’s got the money. I just know it. I got the feeling about that right down in my bones and I think I got a plan to get it or at least a good amount of it.”
“I like the sound of all that money but so where do I come in to this?” asked Clyde.
“Well, it’s not only you, it’s your little nephew too” answered Jack.
“You see Wheeler’s got this dog. I know from when I worked there everybody said he liked the dog more than his old lady. He used to bring the dog to work with him on a regular basis. He had the dog with him when he interviewed people for jobs or promotions. The word was that if the dog didn’t take to the guy right away, the guy didn’t have a chance of getting the job. I guess he figured the dog has ESP or something.
So anyway, he’s in love with the fucking dog, so my plan is to dognap the dog and ransom him back to Wheeler. If he comes up with the money than we can be pretty sure that he’s got money squirreled away so where. If not, then we can be pretty sure that he’s on the level about being broke.
If he does have the money the next step will be to figure out how to get more of it from him.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” asked Clyde.
“I’m not sure yet but I have some ideas. We’ll worry about that when the time comes” answered Jack confidently.
“Let me get to Morris but he’ll do what ever I say so it won’t be any problem” said Clyde as rose from his stair.
“Who’s Morris?” asked Jack.
“He’s my little nephew” came the answer.
“Okay, bring him over early tomorrow morning and we’ll go over the details” said Jack.
“He’s a pretty smart little shit. He’ll catch on real quick” replied Clyde as he left.
The next morning Clyde arrived at Jack’s with Morris in tow. They sat and talked for a short time and then Jack and Morris boarded the bus to the city. When they arrived at Wheeler’s apartment building, both sat on the bench across the street and waited.
Soon, Wheeler exited the building with the dog in the lead, right on schedule. Morris left his seat next to Jack and crossed the street. He walked up the block approaching Wheeler.
“Oh, mister, what a cutie little dog. Can I pet him” announced Morris as he stooped over and reached towards the dog.
Wheeler stopped.
“Sure Sonny. He likes being petted” answered Wheeler.
“I sure wish I had a dog like him. What’s his name?”
“Sparky.”
“Sparky. That’s a cool name” said Morris as he stroked the dog’s back.
“I like Sparky. Can I come and see him again tomorrow?” asked Morris.
“I think Sparky likes you too. See his tail going? I’m sure he wants to see you again tomorrow. We’ll be here the same time tomorrow” Wheeler assured him and with that continued down the street.
With Wheeler out of sight, Morris walked back to the bench.
“Good job” announced Jack and headed back home.
For the next few days Jack and Morris headed to the city and each time Morris engaged Wheeler and Sparky playful conversation as Jack waited and watched.
On the fourth day Morris