The Saga on 12^th Street

     Today in Vadie , Nebraska , a Wednesday in September.    The weather is mild.   Recently, the town had a downpour, which caused the grass to grow rapidly on the manicured lawns.  This neighborhood is at the west end  of town and is the oldest housing community in the town of Vadie .  Vadie is a suburb south of Omaha , Nebraska .  This housing district was developed for the working class of the late 19^th century.  The fathers of the families who lived in these houses in those days worked in factories along the Missouri River .  Some of the homes are in major need of repair and the homeowners have started to refurbish them.

I’ve lived in this neighborhood for ten years.  The neighbors know each other very well.  I choose this neighborhood because the location is close to West High School where I teach math. 

One of my neighbors is Harold Parker.  He has retired from full time private investigation to part time private investigation for a hobby.  He is a unique individual and his detective work is for fun and to help the community.  Also, he has worked on some well-known detective cases in the community.  By looking at him, you would not believe that he held such a prestigious job.  Mr. Parker is short, bald, and egg shaped.  Usually, he dresses as a farmer in bib overalls.  He becomes so involved with his cases that he does not bother with his appearance.  Mr. Parker has been single all his life, unlike me; I have been divorced three times.  Mr. Parker says I am too trustworthy and I let my ex-wives take my money and run.  We have become great friends and spend many nights on Parker’s front porch smoking cigars and sipping brandy socially.  Lately, we have been talking about his methods in detection on the cases that he is working on.  

This particular Wednesday morning a man on a riding lawnmower pulls up to my house.  It is Harold Parker.

Harold calls Harry as a nickname “ Chum.”

  “Hey, friend and Chum do you need your lawn mowed?” he asked.  Mr. Parker mows the lawns for the neighbors to keep more physically active in his retirement years.   

“It is about time someone mowed my lawn, it is looking like a jungle,” said I.  When Parker got done with mowing the lawn, we went to Parker’s house and sat on the porch smoking cigars and drinking brandy.  The air was brisk, and the sun warmed our backs.

A female figure was approaching the porch.  It was Mrs. Jasper, who is a middle-aged woman and owns rental properties in the neighborhood with her husband.  In fact, the Jaspers own the duplex just a few houses down from Parker.  The Jaspers inherited a lot of money from Lester Jasper’s uncle.  After they got the inheritance, they bought up most of the real estate in the town.  They lived in the largest mansion in town, which was under renovation at that time.  They were sort of an odd couple that did not spend a lot of time together.  It was almost like they lived separate lives.  She looked like she had not slept for days when she arrived in a state of excitement. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Jasper.  You know my friend, Harry Burns.”  She nodded yes.

 “Mr. Parker, I have heard that you are well known for your detective work and have been successful in their solutions,” she cried.  “I am terribly worried about my husband.  Lester has been missing since Tuesday evening.  He went to check on the repairs that were being done at the duplex on 12^th street and has not come home since.   I have been trying to call him repeatedly on his cell phone and there is no answer.  I was hoping you could come with me to the duplex and check it out.  I am afraid to go alone, because I saw the duplex’s door wide open.”

“Hey, Chum would like to go with me and be my assistant?” he asked me.

“I should be most happy to go down and check the scene with you,” said I.

            We went with Mrs. Jasper to check out the house, which was in the oldest part of the town.  The house was changed into a side-by-side duplex; both sides had an upstairs and downstairs.   

We arrived at the  #4115 side of the duplex and Parker led Mrs. Jasper and me inside. We found her husband lying on the floor in a pool of blood.  She gasped.   Parker looked around the room quickly, as though he was looking for something.  I tried to follow his eyes, but got lost.

He said to Mrs. Jasper, “What time was it that you last saw your husband?”

She replied, “The last time I saw him it was about four o’clock in the afternoon.”

He went on asking questions as he lit a cigar and was looking at every detail of the room.  “Can

you tell me if anything is missing?”                     

“Probably some tools, I suppose.  I can’t really tell with all the mess.  I will have to take inventory of what is missing.”

Parker was looking around still, as though searching for something.  I took a moment to look at Mr. Jasper’s body.  He looked as though he’d been hit over the head from behind; perhaps Parker was searching for what was used for a weapon. 

I called the police while Parker continued to investigate.  He walked from room to room while asking Mrs. Jasper questions about the house and the work being done on it.   An odd part of the house was that it still had a partial dirt floor in the basement. There also was an old pot bellied, octopus furnace taking up most of the space.  

“Well, there is no way a burglar could broken in and have gotten through those windows, there’s just no way” said Parker.  He thought out loud and said, “What could this mean?”

“Why couldn’t they have gotten in?” I asked him, wondering how access into the duplex could have been through the windows.

Parker replied, “The windows have been nailed shut, so that you can only open them from the inside.”

“We made sure the windows were secure because these tools cost money,” said Mrs. Jasper.

“What about the front door?” I asked.

“The door does not look like it has been damaged.  Is the door always locked and who has keys?” Parker asked.

“We kept the door locked at all times because of the tools.  My husband, the maintenance man and I are the only ones who have a key,” Mrs. Jasper replied.

Mrs. Jasper had been at the duplex the day before yesterday and was familiar with the tools that were in the duplex at that time.

“It didn’t look like many tools were taken,” Mrs. Jasper said.

“Which means this may not have been your typical robbery.” Parker said.

“Do you think someone wanted to hurt my husband?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” I told her, assuredly. “Who could have witnessed this scene?”

“The neighbors, of course, and then there is a bar down the street.”

“Anyone else you can think of?” Parker asked again to make sure. “Anyone who knew where your husband  was?”

“His secretary and the maintenance man, perhaps.  I will have someone take inventory of the tools and give you the list later.  I’m sorry, I can’t think at this time.”  The police arrived and Mrs. Jasper stayed and talked to them while we did more investigating.

Parker and I went to the duplex next door.  When we arrived, we saw stacks of newspapers on the porch still bundled up and unread.  Parker knocked on the door and a young, pretty woman answered.  She looked to be in her twenties and had beautiful blonde hair.

            “Hi, Mrs. Nigh, my name is Harold Parker and this is my friend, Harry Burns.  We want to ask you and your husband a few questions.  Did you hear any disturbance last night next door?”

            “Come in,” she said.  Mr. Parker stepped over the mounds of newspapers as he entered the duplex.  “I don’t know why we subscribe to the newspaper, my husband and I don’t have time to read it.”  The duplex was cluttered with books and mail was piled on the kitchen counter top.  Mr. Nigh was at the breakfast table. 

“My husband and I keep a very busy schedule.  He’s an intern at the hospital.  I’m working full-time and go to the local college part-time.  Last night we went out to dinner with some friends and didn’t get home until late.  Honey, did you hear anything strange last night?” she asked her husband.

 “No, but I sleep pretty soundly at night,” he said.

“Well, if you remember anything, please give me a call,” said Parker and handed her a business card. 

As we were leaving the duplex, Parker said to me, “I guess we had better talk to Mr. Jasper’s secretary.  Secretaries always know more about their bosses than the bosses’ wives.”

We drove down to the next street where Emily Hanson lived.  She has been Mr. Jasper’s secretary for six years, and they were old school classmates.  The house was a modest home with lace curtains in the windows.  The house looked as if someone took very good care of the outside.  As we approached the screen door, we could hear an argument going on. 

“I told you son, you need to stop hanging around those bad neighborhood boys.   You will get into more trouble if you don’t and I can’t afford to bail you out of jail again,” a crying woman said.

“I don’t care about you, witch.  Just like you didn’t care about Father.  I can do whatever I please.  I don’t care if I end up rotting in jail,” a young man said.

“As long as you are living in my house, you will respect me.  Also, quit stealing money from my purse,” the woman said.

Parker knocked on the door and the argument stopped.   A woman opened the door.

“Hello, my name is Harold Parker and this is Harry Burns.   We would like to ask a few questions about what happened to your boss, Mr. Jasper.  I am sure you read about his death in the newspaper by now, and we are investigating the case,” said Parker.

Emily Hanson started to cry more, and reached for a handkerchief. 

“I still can’t believe that he is gone.  I have known him for many years.  This is my son, Dusty. He has become a rebellious teenager since his father and I have divorced,” she said.

Emily Hanson was a sharp looking woman.  She had a neat appearance and wore a beautiful sapphire and diamond necklace with a matching ring that sparkled in the light. 

“You have a very nice home.  What did your ex-husband do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”  Parker inquired.

“He was a house painter by trade.  When he wasn’t working, he was drinking at the local bar.  He was not a very devoted husband and father.  He moved to Dallas, Texas, a couple years ago after the divorce.  My son still blames me for the divorce,” she said.

“I ‘m leaving .  I need to buy some cigarettes,” Dusty said and left.  Dusty looked like the typical bad boy.  He wore a black leather jacket that was ripped at the pocket and smelled of cigarette smoke.  His hair was dirty and he had a sloppy appearance.

“Tell me about Mr. Jasper’s business.  Did he have any enemies that you know of?  Did you know anything about his personal life?  Was he getting along with his wife?” asked Parker.

“Lester had a clean business, no trouble.  Lester was a very demanding man and some people might have thought he was a scrooge, because he was tight with his money.  I thought he was a giving man, and he tried to help my son through my divorce. Lester and I went to West High School together and spent a lot of time going to school functions.  He had been married for twenty years and his wife did not appreciate him.  She was always complaining about something and not giving him attention, as a wife should.  Lester was a jack-of-all-trades and was doing much-needed repairs on the duplex.  He had a maintenance man named Tim Taylor helping him with the remodeling.  The last time I saw him was Tuesday morning when he wanted me to get some building permits.  He left me a key to the duplex so I could let the building inspector in on Thursday.  I don’t know that he had any enemies, but he didn’t have a lot of friends,” she said.

“So, your son and Mr. Jasper got along well together” Parker said.

“They had their problems.  My son thought Mr. Jasper was too kind to me.  Dusty gets a little jealous when men give me a little attention,” Ms. Hanson said.

“Where did you keep the key to the duplex?” Parker asked.

She replied, “I had the key in my purse.  I was supposed to give the key back to Lester after the building inspection Thursday.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Hanson.  Please feel free to call me if you can think of anything else.”  Parker handed her a business card.

“Mr. Burns, I believe you were my son’s math teacher.  I see you are still wearing those bright colored ties and plaid pants,” she said.

“Yes, I have a least six pairs of plaid pants and my ties have different themes.  Why do you ask?” I said.

“Nothing, I just remember my son commenting on your wardrobe.”   She laughed and closed the front door.

Our next stop was to interview the maintenance man at one of the work sites.  Tim Taylor was a typical maintenance man.  He was a big guy, who wore loose jeans and a tool belt that caused his pants to expose his buttocks.  Tim Taylor made his living doing odd jobs for people.  Mr. Jasper hired him to help with remodeling work.

Parker introduced me to Mr. Taylor and started to ask him questions about his relationship with Mr. Jasper. 

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Jasper, and what can you tell us about him?” asked Parker.

“The last time I talked to Mr. Jasper was Tuesday afternoon.  I was working at the duplex putting a new sink and faucet in the bathroom.  I got a call from Mr. Jasper to inform me that he would be at the job site early Tuesday evening.  Mr. Jasper always came to the job site at the end of the day to see the progress.  I have been in some financial difficulties, and I asked him for an advance.  He told me he would pay when the work was completed and, not any earlier.  He was a harsh man, but Mr. Jasper taught me so much about the trade,” said Mr. Taylor.  His face looked pale and he seemed upset.

“I understand you changed the locks on all the doors in the duplex after the last tenant.  Also, Mr. Jasper gave you a key to the duplex.  Do you know a time when you did not have the key with you?” asked Parker. 

“Yes, I did change the locks after the renters had left.  I always kept the key with me on my key ring attached to the belt loop on my pants.”  He showed Parker his keys on his belt loop.  “I am very careful about the keys I carry for job sites.  Also, I went to the duplex this morning and saw the police there.  I had left my tools in a backpack at the job site.  The police checked for me and could not find the backpack.  I have known the Jaspers for a long time.  Their business was good income for me,” he said.

“Thank you for your time.    Please call me if you can think of anything else,” said Parker, handing him a business card.

“Hey Chum, let’s go over to the bar across the street from the duplex and find out if anyone knows anything of importance.  Perhaps they noticed something strange over at the duplex last night and can tell us.  We could have one or two drinks, too,” said Parker as he lit a cigar.  Parker and I walked across the street to "The 12^th Street Tap".  A sign in the window said, “ Welcome Friends for Lousy Food and Warm Beer.” 

Parker acknowledges the bartender and the customers in the bar.  At the time, there were only two couples and a man in the establishment.  Parker walked over to one of the couples that were sitting down at a table.

“Hi! How are you folks today?”  The couple looked up, nodded in recognition of Parker.    “We’re doing fine.”  Parker introduced himself, and the couple introduced themselves as Mr.and Mrs. Hemie.

Parker asked, “Did you see or hear anything odd over at 4115 last night or early this morning?”

Mr. Hemie said, “ We live across the alley from the duplex, but we didn’t notice anything.  We have been out of town for a week on vacation and just got back this morning.”

Parker gave them his card and told them to call him if they remembered anything that could help with his investigation.

Parker walked over to the other couple playing pool and introduced himself.  The couple’s name was Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter.

He asked, “ Have you two seen anything unusual at the duplex across the street?”

Mrs. Potter said, “ I told my husband I thought it was strange for a person to be hauling things out of a building in the night time. I could tell the person was a thinly built man, but I couldn’t see exactly who it was because it was dark outside.”

“Here is my card.  If you remember anything at all, please give me a call,” said Parker.

There was an older man sitting in the bar who looked as if he had been at the bar for a while.  His head was almost on the table as if he was sleeping.  The man was dirty and had a work uniform with the name “Raw Packing” on his shirt pocket.  Raw Packing was a meat packing plant in town.  Some of the people who worked at this plant were rough, sloppy, smelly, and had an “I don’t give a damm” attitude.  This man fit the description very well.

Parker went to the bar where I was and said to the bartender, “Hi, Buddy!  Have you heard about Mr. Jasper’s death?”

“Yea, Burns here was just telling me about it,” said Buddy.

“Mr. Jasper and his cute secretary would come in here around six o’clock in the evening and drink a bottle of wine.  Also, they would dance slow to the music on the juke box,” said Buddy.

“Did you hear or see anything odd last night or early morning over there?” asked Parker.

“Nope, I’ve been busy my whole shift since the factory let out the third shift workers.  I have not heard or seen anything abnormal over there,” said Buddy.

Just then the older man at the bar heard the conversation, stood up, and left the bar very quickly.  Parker and I looked at each other wondering what to think about the incident. 

Buddy said, “ That guy has been in this bar for a couple of nights now.”

“Do you know where he lives?” asked Parker.

“No, he isn’t a regular customer,” said Buddy.

Parker gave Buddy his card and told him to call if the man comes back.  Parker and I went back to the duplex to see if there were clues that we had missed.  Parker said to me, “The simple clues always have more meaning in cases.  Look at everything, because everything matters.”

Waiting at the duplex was Mrs. Jasper.  She had a list of the items that were missing from the crime scene.  The list included a couple of saws and a box of paintbrushes.  Also, on the list were two buckets of small tools, which included screw drivers, tape measures, hammers, pry bar, staplers, and a CD/cassette player.  The expensive hand drills and air compressor were not stolen.  It looked as if the robber didn’t know of the value of the tools that were in the room.

Parker went to the basement and walked around the room, staring at the perimeter as if looking for something. He walked over to the furnace and looked at it carefully, touching a part that looked loose. “Does this furnace work?” he asked Mrs. Jasper.

“Nope, it’s not working properly. That’s one of the things we were trying to fix,” Mrs. Jasper said. “My husband hadn’t gotten to it yet in fact, I think he was going to look at it the night he died.”

Parker nodded and walked around it again, then he looked inside the loose section.  He said to me “I need a handkerchief.” I handed him one. Then he emerged with a smile on his face and something in his hand.  It was a pry bar, and it appeared to have blood on it.

 “I think we have found the murder weapon,” Parker said.

“How did you know where it was?” I asked.

“No one would take a bloody tool out of the building, so they must hide it inside the building. Also this means the murderer did not know that the furnace didn’t work.”

I asked, “What do you mean Parker?”

“Well, Chum, it’s fall, and sooner or later people will be turning their furnaces on.  A repairman would find the weapon when he came to repair the furnace and this killer wouldn’t want the weapon to be found.  If the killer knew the furnace was broken he or she would put the weapon somewhere else.”

Satisfied with that explanation, I walked over to Parker and we looked over the tool. “Do you see that?” he asked me.  As I took a closer look I saw a piece of something caught on the end of the tool.  It was black, I could tell that much, but it looked odd, not quite like a cloth.  As he looked at it Parker smiled, as though he was figuring something out.  He put the piece of material in an envelope.

Parker and I went to talk to the police to see if they had found anything.  Lt. Columbo was there at the front desk.

“Well, I knew you would show up,” he said to Parker.

“Hi, Lieutenant did you see anything of interest at the duplex this morning?” asked Parker.

“We just saw that some tools were missing.  Looks like some robber broke in and surprised Mr. Jasper.  We have had some recent break ins in the neighborhood and think they were done by teenagers.  The robber would only take what is in sight and leave other valuables behind.  The robberies don’t look professional,” said Lt. Columbo.

“You always were good at jumping to conclusions.  The crime scene does look like a robbery or it maybe not.  Would you call me with a police report on this person?” Parker said as he handed the lieutenant a piece of paper.  “You might want to get a search warrant and check the premises.”  Lt. Columbo nodded and we left the police station.

I asked Parker if he knew who killed Mr. Jasper.

“I still need to need to check out some clues to confirm my thoughts.  You’ll have to be patient, Harry.”

We went back to Parker’s house to have some brandy and smoke cigars while we waited for the telephone call.  The phone rang and Parker answered it.  It was Lt. Columbo

Parker said, “ I thought so.  I will tell Mrs. Jasper the case is solved.  Maybe you shouldn’t jump to such conclusions until you have all the facts.  Talk to you later, Lieutenant.”  Parker hung up the phone.

“Let’s go to Mrs. Jasper’s house, Harry,” he said in an eager voice.

We walked up the stairs to the Jasper’s front porch.  Parker rang the doorbell, and Mrs. Jasper came to the door.

“Mrs. Jasper I have found out what happened to your husband,” said Parker.

Mrs. Jasper let us in her spacious home, and we went into the living room to sit down.  Mrs. Jasper stared at Parker patiently.

“Your husband was murdered and the robbery was set up to throw off the police.  They have arrested Dusty Hanson for the crime.  The police found the tools in Emily Hanson’s garage.  The serial numbers from the tools that were taken from the duplex match the tools found in the garage.  The police will tell you the rest of the details.”

“I knew you would help me.  Thank you for your trouble Mr. Parker,” she said.

We left and I asked Parker how he knew that Dusty Hanson had committed the crime.

  He said, “This was an unique case of jealousy.   I knew whoever entered the duplex would have to have a key, since the windows were nailed shut and the door was not damaged.  The people who had a key to the duplex were Mr. and Mrs. Jasper, Tim Taylor, and Emily Hanson. 

“Mr. Jasper was a creature of habit and Dusty knew his daily routine by his conversation with his mother.  He knew that Mr. Jasper came to the duplex at the end of the day to check on the workers’ progress.  Dusty waited inside the duplex, and when Mr. Jasper entered the duplex, Dusty hit him from behind with the pry bar.  Dusty didn’t want the police to find the murder weapon, so he hid the pry bar in the furnace.  He didn’t know that there would be repairs on the furnace.  He wanted the scene to look like a robbery, so he grabbed some tools when he left.  The witness at the bar saw a young man leave at night hauling things out of the duplex,” said Parker.

            I said, “How did you know the other people who had keys were not involved?”

            “The maintenance man, Tim Taylor would have known the value of the tools and if he did the robbery for financial reasons, he would have stolen the more expensive tools.  Also, he would have known the furnace was going to be repaired.  Tim Taylor wouldn’t have wanted to kill Mr. Jasper, since he was his meal ticket.” Parker said.

            “Also, Mrs. Jasper knew that the furnace was going to be worked on. I don’t believe she knew about the close relationship between Mr. Jasper and Emily Hanson.  She led a separate life from her husband and did not know his whereabouts most of the time.” Parker said.

            “As far as Emily Hanson is concerned, her relationship with Mr. Jasper was more than a secretary/boss relationship.  They were having an affair.”

            I said, “How did you know they were having an affair?”

            He replied, “ I knew by the way she was referring to him as Lester and not Mr. Jasper.  Also, they were seen together in the bar after working hours, drinking wine and dancing.  Ms. Hanson had expensive jewelry on when we met with her.  I knew she couldn’t afford such treasures with her salary or on her ex-husband’s income.  So I determined it must have been gifts from a wealthy person, like Mr. Jasper.  Ms. Hanson’s home was well kept.  Her ex-husband has been away for two years and I knew her son did not seem the type to help around the house.  A skilled handy man like Mr. Jasper was probably doing the maintenance and repairs.”

            “Why did Dusty Hanson kill Mr. Jasper?” I asked.   “Dusty was a rebellious teenager and had been in trouble with the law before.  The call from Lt. Columbo confirmed his violent behavior.  He has a long rap sheet of committed robberies and acts of violence.  One person was sent to the hospital because of the beatings Dusty gave him.”

            “Dusty was upset with the attention Mr. Jasper was giving his mother.  He knew they were having an affair and wanted to end it.  He still had dreams of his parents getting back together.  Dusty went to steal money from his mother’s purse and saw the key to the duplex.  This was a chance to get Mr. Jasper out of his mother’s life.”   “I knew Dusty Hanson committed the crime because I found that piece of material on the murder weapon.  The piece of material was black leather.  When I saw Dusty at his mother’s house I noticed he had a rip by his pocket on the black leather jacket he was wearing.”

            “See Chum every clue is important and you have to get past the obvious and detect other clues,” Parker got another cigar out of his pocket to smoke.  “Let’s get some brandy to warm us up.”