Bicycle Shop Murder by Robert Burton Robinson (fiction novels to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Robert Burton Robinson
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âBut John X allowed Satan to control him. He tried to kill me. He would have murdered me in cold blood. But you are righteous and wonderful, Lord. You caused him to aim the gun at his genitals instead of at me.
âThrough your power, you protected me, your servant, while causing him to shoot off his own sex organs. And I know at this very moment that he is surely dead. Your will was done tonight.
âI confess that I used to be no better than John X. I have murdered many innocent people in my lifetime. But in prison, I prayed for forgiveness. And you granted it to me. I thank you again for providing Chaplain Cross, who helped me to see things your way.
âSo, I made a vow to you. I promised that I would never again commit murder. But then I did. Several times, in Coreyville. I donât count the pimp I killed a couple of weeks ago in Dallas.
âNo, that was not murder. It was you, using me to bring righteous judgment upon the head of a rapist. The 16-year-old girl that he had raped, and tried to force into prostitution has been rescued by your hand, through me. But that was not murder.
âI may have been a little out of line when I tortured him by shooting him in the legs, arms, and stomach. Instead, I could have put him out of his misery quickly. But I believe that you looked upon the tortured with favor. Letâs face it, Lordâhe deserved it.
âAnd now thereâs the question of what to do with Buford. Clearly, he deserves to die. Yet, I have vowed to you that I will not commit murder. So, what can I do? Because of him, many innocent people have died.
âI will confront Buford Bellowin. And I will depend on you for direction. I know that you can provide a way to bring justice to him, without causing me to break my vow. And I am trusting you to do so. Amen.â
*
âI donât think we should give the police a description of the man with the rifle,â said Cynthia.
âWhy?â
âFor one thing, he kept the hit man from killing us when he shot him through the window. So, we owe him.â
âYeah
â
âAnd if we give the police a description, and they go after him, he might come after us.â
âBut we canât lie to the police.â
âMaybe just a little white lie.â
*
They had already given the local police a full account of what had happened. Then Angela Hammerly and Andrea Newly showed up, along with the sheriff and two deputies. So, Greg and Cynthia went through the entire story all over again.
âSo, the man with the rifleâwhat did he look like?â
âI couldnât see his face very well. He was wearing a stocking over his headâpantyhose,â said Cynthia.
Greg was not comfortable with lying to the D.A., and he hoped they wouldnât regret it later.
âOkay. Weâre going to have a lot more questions for you. A deputy will drive your car back to Coreyville,â said Angela. âSheriff, please cuff them, and take them to jail.â
âWhat? We called you,â Greg said. âWeâve been running from that man all day. We were nearly killed twice. And now youâre putting us in jail?â
âI told her not to leave town. But she did. And you helped her. So, this is what you get,â the D.A. said.
âBuford Bellowin is the one you need to be questioning,â said Cynthia. âAsk him why he sent this killer after us.â
âYeah. And ask him why Dorothy Spokane blamed him for all of the murders in Coreyville,â said Greg.
âWhen did you talk to Dorothy Spokane?â
âRight before she was murdered. I was talking to her when she got shot.â
Angela Hammerly looked at Andrea Newly. Things were getting a lot more interesting. What would it do for Angela Hammerlyâs career if she could bring down the mighty Buford Bellowin? Prosecutors hated him. He had made them look like fools too many times. She would be their hero if she could slay that dragon.
*
Kantrell Jamisonâs mother, Ella, sat in the ICU waiting room, talking to her daughter, Jolee.
âMama, what if Kantrell doesnât make it?â
âThen we can kiss that money goodbye.â
âBut maybe we could still find it.â
âWhere, Jolee? Weâve already looked everywhere. Come onâitâs time. We can go in again now.â
âThis time, Iâm gonna make sure he wakes up, and tells us.â
Kantrellâs eyes were closed. And they would have thought he was already dead, had it not been for the monitor displaying his heartbeat.
âKantrell, this is your sister, Jolee. Can you hear me? Come onâwake up, Kantrell. Remember all those times I called you a âstupid ugly?â Well, I didnât really mean it, Kantrell.
âYouâre my brother, and I love you very much. You mean so much to me. And to Mama. Weâve had so many great times together as a family. And weâre so sorry you busted your head open tonight.â
âJolee.â Ella whispered in Joleeâs ear. âDonât remind him about his head. Just ask about the money.â
Jolee went on. âBut you need to let us take care of the money for you. We know itâs your money. Weâre not trying to take it from you. But what if somebody else finds it? Then none of us would get anything. Kantrell?â
Her brother did not move.
âKantrell?â Jolee was losing her patience. She wanted the money now. She deserved a new car. Not anything big or fancy. Just a cute little new car. Sometimes he was such a pain in the butt! âKantrell?â
Still nothing.
âOkay. So, thatâs how itâs gonna be? Then, you know what? I did mean it when I called you a âstupid ugly.ââ
âJolee, hold your voice down,â Ella said.
âYeah, and not only are you a âstupid ugly, Kantrellâyouâre an âugly stupidâ too!â
Kantrell began to stir.
âYou better wake up, Boy.â
Kantrell jerked violently, and then lay perfectly still. His heartbeat flatlined, and an alarm started beeping.
âNo! My baby!â Ella cried.
No! My money! thought Jolee.
It was 8:25 AM on Saturday morning, and Buford Bellowinâs cell phone was ringing. How he wished he had turned it off before going to sleep at 2:00 AM. The wife and the servants would arrive by noon. He had hoped to sleep until 11:00. Through blurry vision, he could see it was Kyle Serpentine calling.
âDonât you know itâs too early to be calling on a Saturday morning, Kyle?â
âYes, Sir. Sorry about that. But I thought you would want to hear the news.â
You mean the terrible news about the death of Greg Tenorly and Cynthia Blockerman? he thought. âWhat news?â
âKantrell Jamison is dead.â
âWhat? Howâd that happened?â
âFrom what I understand, his cellmate pushed him, and he fell back and hit his head real hard. They took him to the emergency room. But he died during the night.â
Buford hoped Kyle couldnât hear the smile in his voice. âThatâs a shame.â Why couldnât this have happened when the boy first went to jail?
âYes, Sir, it is. I just found out about it a few minutes ago when his mother called me. And she asked me if Kantrell had said anything to me about the money.â
Buford cringed. âWhat money?â
âShe said Kantrell had $30,000 hidden away somewhere. Sheâs desperate to find that money. I told her I didnât know anything about it.â
âWere you telling her the truth?â
âOf course. I donât know what sheâs talking about. He didnât tell me anything about any money. I hate to say it, Sir, but it sounds like somebody hired Kantrell to kill Sam Spokane. I guess he really was guilty after all.â
âThatâs terrible. And here we were, trying save a poor young black man from the injustice of small-town discrimination.â
âYes, Sir.â
âAnd it turns out he was a criminal.â
âBut we tried to do something good, Sir.â
âYes. We tried. Well, thanks for letting me know, Kyle. You did a good job with this trial. And Iâll remember you when I become governor. You can count on it.â
âThank you, Sir.â That was all Kyle needed to hear. Look out, Austin, here I come, he thought.
Now Buford was wide-awake. Finally, all of the obstacles had been eliminated: Kantrell Jamison, Arabeth Albertson, Troy Blockerman, Dorothy Spokane, Marty Crumb, Greg Tenorly, Cynthia Blockerman, and, of course, Sam Spokane. Too bad so many people had to die. But, successful politicians are tough. Theyâre not afraid to do whatever it takes.
His troubles were over, and it was going to be a fantastic day. He would celebrate with a drink or two.
*
âDr. Huff? This is Greg. Sorry for calling you so early.â
He had not talked to the pastor since Wednesday. Dr. J. Marshall Huff was the pastor of First Baptist Church, and Gregâs part-time boss.
âGreg? Whatâs going on with you? Weâve been hearing a lot of stories. And then we saw on TV that you were wanted by the police.â
âI know. Itâs been crazy. But I just wanted you to know that the things theyâre saying are not true.â
âI didnât think so.â There was not much certainty in Dr. Huffâs voice.
âThe only thing I did wrong was to take Cynthia Blockerman out of town. The D.A. had ordered her not to leave Coreyville.â
âI see.â
âBut there was a murderer on the loose, and she was in danger. And so was I. The killer followed us, and yesterday he tried to kill usâtwice.â
âWell, I heard that you shot a man.â
âI did. But it was self-defense. And he shot me in the arm. I was just trying to protect Cynthia.â
âI didnât know you owned a gun, Greg.â
âI donât. It wasnât my gun.â
âAnd how did you get involved with this woman?â
Greg didnât appreciate the pastorâs tone. âItâs kind of a long story. Iâll tell you all about it later. I just wanted to let you know I wonât be able to direct the music for tomorrowâs service.â
âIâve already asked Henry to fill in.â
âAndâone more thing. Do you know a good lawyer? Iâm in jail, and this is my one phone call.â
*
It was a lousy place to be, but at least Cynthia finally felt safeâin spite of the fact that two young hookers were staring at her from across the small cell.
âSheâs getting a little old for this kind of work,â said Hooker #1.
âNah. Some guys like âem older,â said Hooker #2.
âOr theyâre too drunk to care.â
They both laughed.
âWhat do you think? Sheâs got to be at least 30.â
âBut she still looks good. Check out the beautiful red hair.â
âYeah. I guess guys would still want to do her.â
âHey, Iâd do her.â
They laughed even harder. One of them laughed until she went into a raging smokerâs cough.
Cynthia did feel safe. But her stomach was queasy. She nearly barfed on the floorâwhere someone else had apparently vomited a few hours earlier.
Just hang on, she thought. Surely, this will be over soon.
*
As Buford walked to his study, he felt all-powerful. Nobody could stop him now. He poured himself a well-deserved shot of whiskey. Buford Bellowin, Governor of Texas. He loved the sound of it.
âHaving a nice day, Buford?â
The familiar voice sent tremors throughout Bufordâs body. The shot glass slipped through his fingers, and fell to the floor. He turned around to see Marty Crumb sitting in a chair, pointing a pistol at Buford. âMarty?â
The pistol
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