THE MOSELEY BROTHERS CAPER
The two tramps staggered along the dimly-lit suburban street, carousing loudly. Occasionally they stopped to take a swig from their brown-paper covered bottles, raucous laughter following a stage-whispered remark. The owners of the houses, if they heard the uproar, decided to ignore the unwelcome interlopers in the hope that they would go away soon. A little further up the street a black-and-white cruised slowly across an intersection, stopped briefly at the corner to observe the two winos, then purred on. The two, dimly seeing the car in the distance, momentarily stopped their noisy progress, but when the prowl car moved away, they hung onto each other helplessly in a fit of giggles. Then, the smaller of the two loudly hushing his companion, they weaved their uncertain way onwards.
Eyes watching behind curtains of unlit rooms blinked in relief as the two lushes passed by, but still kept vigil in morbid fascination and observation on how the other half live until the unwelcome ones were out of sight.
The house they stopped at was totally dark and apparently unoccupied. The taller of the two made it apparent to any silent watchers that he was suddenly in considerable physical discomfort, and weaved his way into the darkness of the house's large porch whilst his friend stood outside, nonchalantly leaning against a wall, taking another swig from the anonymous bottle.
A couple of minutes later the other man re-emerged from the shadows and, while they ostensibly refuelled, a rapid conversation was taking place.
"You got it open, Paul?"
"Yeah, a piece of cake, Hooker. Basic security system, just like the plans of the house indicated. The dummies are inflated, too."
"Good. We'll both disappear into the porch, now, and make it look like we're falling asleep, okay?"
They rolled up the steps, arms round each other's shoulders in drunken camaraderie, and appeared to first sit down on the porch, then lie down. In the darkness they took off their dirty coats and put them over the two life-size dummies. A finishing touch was put by Hooker, who produced a small tape recorder and set it running, then planted it under one of the 'bodies'. Turned up to full volume, it emitted loud snoring noises so that, if anyone chanced along at that unearthly hour, they would hurry past the disgustingly drunk, alcohol-smelling intruders.
The two men, dressed entirely in black and wearing gloves, slipped into the empty house unobserved. They separated and went to work in a pre-arranged search plan. Maguire, an expert locksmith and cracksman, sought out the concealed safe, while Hooker investigated the rest of the house. He heard a muffled curse from Maguire but did not break his own silence in finding out what had caused the expletive. He was about to open a door on the ground floor when instinct stopped him. What was it? A smell. What of? Animal? Yes! Dog! Where? A cellar? There was no cellar in the original plans of the house. And why dogs in a cellar? What were they guarding? What we're looking for!
Hooker went back to Maguire, who was standing at the wall safe, stethoscope in his ears, his sensitive fingers ticking over the combinations, one by one, his forehead furrowed in concentration. Then, with a triumphant "Hah!", he swung the safe open. Inside were bundles of large-denomination banknotes and an alteration plan of the house. Hooker took it from him. Yes! There! A large cellar, could be a wine cellar. He grunted in amusement at the parallel with their disguise. Was there another way in? A fuel-hole at the side of the house. Do fine. Now, how to dispose humanely of the dog or dogs? They consulted quickly, then Hooker went to the pantry while Maguire found the bathroom. In a wall cabinet he found what he was looking for - sleeping pills. He returned to the pantry, where Hooker was cutting up a large piece of beef retrieved from the freezer. He poured water over the meat, dissolving the pills, then slipped out a side window, opened the fuel hole and slipped the platter down. To his satisfaction he heard clawed paws scuffling, and the hungry animals wolfed the proffered food. They waited for 15 minutes, then Hooker tentatively opened the cellar door. All was quiet. The two Dobermans slept beside the unfinished bowl of meat.
Concealed from outside eyes, as there were no windows, Hooker and Maguire lit their torches and commenced their search of the cellar. It had been a wine cellar, but now the casks were filled with something else entirely - approximately half a ton of cannabis. All the tedious work and research of the past months had been successful, and the proof was now before them.
Suddenly Hooker's intercom bleeped. "Two Tango Twelve to Searcher." Hooker acknowledged on his radiophone. "Suspect automobile approaching." The prowl car had spotted the Moseley brothers returning early.
"Damn!" Paul swore. "Get back to the front, fast!"
They raced to the porch, substituted themselves for the recumbent dummies and left the snore-track running - just in time. With pistols concealed in their hands, Hooker and Maguire lay there, watching through slitted eyes as four men got out of the car, slamming the doors shut, and approached the front door.
"Hey, what the hell's this?" one of them exclaimed as he saw the two dark shapes draped across the porch. He moved closer, hearing the snoring, and kicked the nearer of the two shapes.
In a trice Hooker and Maguire were on their feet, guns pointing. "Freeze, Police!" exclaimed Maguire, revealing his badge with a flick of his wrist. The Moseley brothers and their accomplice turned to flee but were halted in their tracks by two black-and-whites screeching to a halt in the driveway. Surrounded, they raised their hands in surrender without bloodshed.
---oo0oo---
Back at the Precinct, all their paperwork on the case completed and cleared up for the night, Maguire remembered something and furrowed his brow in perplexity. "Just one thing I'd like to know, Hooker."
"Sure, Paul, what is it?"
"I wasn't aware of the fact that our Library had a recording of someone snoring."
Paul saw Hooker's eyes flicker. "Uh, they didn't."
"Oh. Where'd you get it then? Did you get an actor to tape it?"
"Well, not exactly." Hooker could not look his partner in the face, turned away to hide the laughter bubbling up inside him.
"Who, then? You? Did you record it?"
"No, no, nothing like that, Paul, I assure you."
"Oh. Well, who did, then? It was a great idea, you know, put the finishing touch to the whole thing."
"You really don't want to know Paul, believe me." implored Hooker as he turned to face his friend, eyes sparkling, hands beseeching.
At last Paul got suspicious. "Hookeeeeer!" the friendly threat was apparent.
Hooker made sure he was able to close a door behind him, allowing a few moments for a fast escape, before he replied "Ask Sharon!"
---oo0oo---