Recycle - 14. Chapter 14

Owen called it exactly right – because nothing new happened for almost the next two months. Elena looked for reports of the shooter every day, but none appeared, not from any of the stations or campuses from Springfield to Greenfield or Westfield to Amherst. Certainly nothing happened in Waldron, or Elena would have known it. Even the UMass Nerf battles gave way as fall football season ended, temperatures cooled, and students started to wear heavier clothes.

“It’s more like armor,” she pointed out. “The guys can’t move as easily, and it hurts them less when they’re hit. Plus, the tranquilizer darts – which started the whole thing – seem to have vanished.”

“Maybe the shooter only had a handful of them after all,” Don observed.

“Could be,” Elena agreed. “But I still hate to give it all up.”

To head that off, she’d continued to research on the Internet, since it was easy and cheap. She especially explored recycling in Europe, particularly in connection with tattoos. But there was nothing.

“Nothing,” she reported, detailing all the ways and places she’d looked.

She’d also contacted the main national and international police organizations, again mostly by writing, which only cost her time. But they were no help.

“They just don’t have information on this,” she relayed to the group. “They said it seemed more weird than political. So – for me – it all goes back to what Kiran Sachs said in our first case – that this could be a prank.”

“An interesting way to start the school year,” Jae joked at one of their lunches. “But a lot of work for nothing.”

So – temporarily – they let it go.

They did it reluctantly, and, occasionally, if Elena had a new thought as she was falling asleep at night or doing something equally mindless during the day, she’d follow it up. Or try to, as often it went nowhere. If someone else had a suggestion, she’d look into that, too. But they knew this case had all but ended, and it was uncomfortably filed away – electronically and on paper – with their other less than successful work.

“This one really hurts,” Jae told Elena. “It started so simply and looked like it would be easy.”

“Yeah,” Elena admitted. “And a little fun.”

Then something weird happened. It wasn’t like the darts reappeared, or the tattoos, but almost slipped in among the hundreds of holiday cards the station got every year, one small one was addressed to Elena.

Usually, the envelopes read “Waldron Police,” or “Waldron Police Department,” or even “Police Department.” One year, one said, “Cops. Main Street.” And the Zip. Everyone laughed at that.

“This was addressed to me?” Elena asked as Owen handed her the still sealed envelope. He nodded, and she confirmed that by looking at the card.

Detective Elena Petrakis

The Waldron Police Department

Old Town Hall

43 Main Street

Waldron, Massachusetts

01027

It was all neatly centered on a white label printed in black – nothing like the festive red or green ink on some of the other cards. There was no return address, of course, but in the bottom left corner a smaller label read, “Private – Please.”

“The stamp’s generic,” Owen pointed out. “It could’ve been bought in a machine. And it’s postmarked ‘Waldron’ – yesterday.”

“I’ll bet there are no fingerprints, either,” Elena added. “Or if there are, they aren’t hers.”

“No,” Owen agreed. “And it’s not worth checking everyone in the post office or anyone who could’ve handled it here.”

Elena looked carefully at the card before opening the envelope. “I don’t suppose there’s anything dangerous inside,” she said smiling.

“I doubt it. But you can get gloves and a mask if you’d feel more comfortable.”

She shook her head then cut off maybe an eighth inch of the right end of the envelope. By then, Ike, Don, Jae, and Rob had gathered.

“No powder,” Elena observed.

“Not even glitter,” Rob cracked. “Our cards are full of that – our friends think it’s joyous.”

“I wonder how she got my name?” Elena went on. “I know it was in some of the reports as the officer to contact. But I was never specifically in charge.”

“Maybe she guessed,” Jae offered. “She seems good at that.”

Don overrode the laugh. “You think the card’s fake?” he wondered. “Another prank on us?”

“Why would it be?” Ike offered. And they all considered while Elena read.

It was a classy UNICEF card, featuring doves on the front and Peace printed inside in a half-dozen languages.

“She certainly is consistent,” Jae said laughing.

“She may be making fun of us for calling her German,” Rob agreed.

What seemed more important was an enclosed letter, as expected, printed by a computer.

“It’s not that long,” Elena reported. “Should I read it or pass it around?”

“Read,” Owen decided. “We can each look at it later.”

“Never even close, folks,” Elena began. “But I admire your diligence.”

That made everyone laugh.

“We have a fan,” Jae joshed. “Even if she does break laws.”

“That’s what happens when you give everything to the media,” Ike chided. “People judge your work.”

“They do that anyway,” Owen said grinning. “If less accurately.”

“I don’t think she’s poking fun at us,” Elena countered. “She may genuinely be saying Thanks.”

Ike agreed.

“The sketches were way off,” Elena went on. “I’ve never looked anything like that.”

“That’s always expected,” Jae acknowledged. “You can describe all you like, and artists seem to draw what they want.”

“But you’ve got admire their diligence,” Rob cracked.

Elena pushed on. “But, yes, the original tranquilizer darts were a donation. They came from a recycling center.”

“I’ll bet she doesn’t say where,” Owen guessed. “Or what kind, or what she was doing there.”

“No. They were dropped in a bin, and as I was sorting though that, they gave me an idea.”

“Swell,” Rob joked.

“But since there were only five of them, I had to keep reloading.”

“That’s why we could never find the empties,” Don confirmed. “As we thought.”

“Where did she get the drugs to reload?” Jae asked.

“She says something else first,” Elena continued. “Even though they were only ‘one use,’ I found a way around that. And the new sedatives came from a combination of donated drugs from vets and instructions from the Internet.”

“So she might not be a pharmacy student,” Ike weighed.

“The internet’s our biggest enemy,” Owen reminded them. “The things people think they know. And no matter how bright she is, she’s lucky no one was hurt.”

“That involved a lot of people,” Rob remembered.

“There’s also a chance she’s throwing us off,” Elena offered. “She could still be a vet or pharmacy student, so there was less risk.”

“I like that better,” Jae admitted. “It seems more like her.”

“Now you’re on her side,” Rob poked.

Jae smiled. “Maybe a little. And maybe I always have been.”

“Fifth columnist! Collaborator!” Rob was grinning, and everyone else followed. Then he shrugged. “Well, if we can’t lock up one, let’s grab another.”

“We may get one yet,” Ike counseled. “Maybe this is a confession.”

Elena kept reading. “Another thing you got sort of right is I was raised in a family of hunters and taught to shoot when I was four or five.”

“Double swell,” Rob almost repeated.

“Air guns first. But rifles that killed rabbits soon after. Though I hated killing rabbits.”

“Does that get her time off?” Rob cracked.

“I didn’t mind rats, but there weren’t a lot of those around. And mice seemed as harmless as bunnies.”

“As could be expected,” Owen kidded. “From someone who mainly spared frat boys.”

“But none of that matters because I was never shooting. You assumed that. My darts were always either hand-thrown or simply poked.”

“We did assume that,” Elena admitted. “Maybe I did first. Sorry.”

“It’s not like any of us contradicted you,” Owen quickly said in support. “It seemed to make sense.”

“Either way, she must have very good aim,” Rob nearly complimented.

“Well, she did all that shooting as a kid,” Ike replied.

“It was the copycats who worried me. Both because of what their drugs might be and where they were aiming. I always shot for the rear end.”

“She really was safe... considering,” Jae observed.

“So I was relieved when everyone shifted to Nerf bullets.”

“Not to mention all the publicity that got,” Ike said.

“Also, I wasn’t raised in some uninformed rural town. More a small city like Northampton.”

“Of course, she won’t identify it,” Don noted. “Or give us its vague location.”

“Which was big enough to have an exchange student program, so I picked up a little German.”

“I’ll bet she’s never been to Europe, either,” Ike interpreted.

“And my parents are very conservative about children and their manners. So once I picked up scheisse, I looked up some other inappropriate words to confuse them – merde, and lort, and kuso, and dermo.”

“Merde’s French,” Ike volunteered.

“Kuso’s Japanese,” Jae contributed.

“Lort’s Danish,” said Rob.

“Now how do you know that?” Don asked.

“Maybe an exchange student taught me,” Rob shot back, wiggling his eyebrows.

“And dermo’s Russian,” Owen contributed. And before Don could question, he added, “I’ve been reading a series of Russian police novels – looking for tips.”

“Traitor.”

“She has a sense of humor,” Elena pointed out, waving the letter. No one disagreed.

“I also know this area has a history of recycling,” Elena resumed. “But it seems to have lost its focus. Things are collected but not really recycled. Especially plastics.”

“I’ve heard that,” Jae confirmed.

“So I thought people needed a reminder.”

“Does she say where the Nerf bullets came from?” Owen wondered.

Elena was almost at the bottom of the letter and turned the page to see if there was more. “No,” she admitted.

“Then we don’t know much more than we did,” he summed up. “She’s got us trapped – and stuck.”

“It’s definitely not a confession,” Jae said disappointed.

“But is it challenge?” Ike asked. “A fresh one?”

“I’m not sure about that,” Elena offered. “But you could be right. She didn’t have to write and examine everything we’d done – pointing out our flaws. She could’ve simply watched how carefully we were watching and used that to improve her plans.”

“So we’re guilty,” Rob joked.

“But the point was to always publicize recycling,” Elena continued.

“Which she did very well,” Jae agreed.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

“And that’s the letter,” Elena finished. “We could use much more.”

She offered it around.

“Though there is one more thing.” She turned Don, smiling, and without needing to read seemed to quote, “As for whether I was born a girl or a boy... well, we’ll just have to leave you guessing.”

After they all laughed and gave Don thumbs ups and high fives, Owen brought them back to focus.

“Does it sound like a challenge?” he asked. “Like a Come and get me? Again? What do you think?”

Elena shook her head. “I think it’s what you already said – and we’ve probably all been thinking. She may’ve only confirmed a couple of our guesses – but she wasn’t rude about it.”

“Is that an excuse?” Owen pushed on. “And is this just a try for new publicity.”

“She’s done that before,” Ike warned. “This could be a new angle.”

“Not if we keep this letter private,” Elena suggested. “Though that might also be what she wants. Maybe that’s why she sent it to me.”

“As opposed to addressing it publicly to the department?” Owen asked.

Elena nodded.

“But she still hurt a lot of people,” Rob protested.

“Who?” Jae challenged. “A poke with a dart’s no worse than a quick splinter.”

“I see it differently. That first student who came in here had embarrass himself – when no one else had seen the tattoos.”

“Isn’t that balanced by the kid at UMass who was our undercover?” Elena offered. “Who was begging for a tattoo.”

“And the kids who were faking them for status,” Ike added.

“OK, our ability to measure the embarrassment of some teenage guys may be impossible,” Owen conceded. “But it’s still there.”

“Has anyone pressed charges? Or even wanted to?” Elena reasoned.

Owen had to confirm that no one had. “They’ve only come in to report.”

“Then there’s your case,” Don concluded.

“Still, she shouldn’t get out of this – if she is a she,” Owen persisted. “The shooter set off something much bigger than intended, but it wouldn’t have started without that first dart. So I say we leave the files open in case anything similar starts – and then absolutely launch a search.” He hesitated. “And we definitely shouldn’t offer publicity – even accidentally. I wonder if cards like this were sent to all the stations?”

“And the media,” Ike added.

“I’ll check,” Elena told them. “But I’ll bet we’re alone. It just feels that way.”

“It feels right,” Jae seconded.

And they were correct, as Elena quickly reported.

Owen absorbed that then laughed. “Then just add the card to the file,” he instructed. “And make sure it – and the computer file – stay updated.” He smiled again. “And thanks, everyone, for your good work – excellent.”

“But why did this card get sent?” Rob pursued. “We still haven’t answered that question. It certainly didn’t need to be.”

“No,” Elena agreed. “And that’s why I think it’s a thank you note.”

“That’s so lame.”

“It’s the holidays.”

Jae, Don, and Ike just stood by.

“Then hang the card on the wall for a while,” Owen decided. “With all the others. Our thanks from a grateful community.”

“We’re a police force of chumps,” Rob cracked.

“When we’re not busy doing our jobs,” Owen corrected.

“Chumps,” Rob said again. Grinning.

“Sometimes,” Owen allowed. He always seemed to like having the last word.