The Weird Insights of a Scobberlotcher

Thirty Sounds Robin's Egg Blue

My unexpected inheritance turned out to be a bunch of pages from a notepad held together by a rubber band. Turned the envelope upside down and gave it a good shake but that was it. Each page had a head shot and cell number for the town's self-proclaimed #1 Selling Real Estate Agent up at the top. And each one was crammed top to bottom on both sides with handwriting. Who the hell does that anymore? But it was tiny, neat and very precise with odd squiggles here and there, like the writer was suffering sporadic tremors. At the top of the page marked '1' it started with the words, 'To My Confessor.' Ah shit, of course! That Douglas Dexter. Doug. The hospice's homicidal maniac.

Hey, you disappeared on me there. Well, guess we're even on that score now (joke). Guess I must have spooked you (joke).

Wow, a note from the dead that came with it's own laugh track.

Look, I'm sorry I had to spring it on you like that but you are my one hope in all this. And after talking with you I know you are the man for the job. Otherwise why would I waste my last few hours going to all this trouble? Anywho, if I'm lucky and you get this after I'm gone you may understand that I am not delusional, a crank or a cold blooded killer. So, let me explain. Like I told you, I used to be a cop. I worked in another division most of my career but I've lived here for a while now. My wife had passed, God bless her, so I bought an apartment here when I retired to be close to my son and his family. Then when Morrison first got elected I started hearing rumors about him. I was just curious at first, that's all. So I checked out a couple of his council meetings posted on-line. He was a bit too slick and glib for my taste but who can stay awake long enough during one of those things to judge properly. So then I went to a live council meeting to see him in person. From the first time he opened his mouth I knew the guy was an evil bullshitter. I think I told you I have a sense for that and he was bad. Very bad. Criminal bad. One of the worst I ever smelled. So then I started attending regularly, keeping tabs on everything they were doing, him and his crony councilors. Things just weren't right. So I started researching, coming prepared, asking tough questions. They either ignored me or fobbed me off as just another one of those old retired cranks with nothing better to do in the evening than drink the free coffee and hassle elected officials with stupid questions. They even kicked me out one night. Bastards!

Well, Doug, we only met the once but judging from the looks of your voice I have a feeling that may have been their first mistake.

I mean there were developers getting approvals for projects nobody wanted. One or two outright conflicted with zoning that got varied or modified after these mysterious in-camera sessions. Services got privatized that ended up benefiting companies controlled by known associates. City funds to manage events and projects awarded to political cronies. On and on. Of course, there were complaints. Council backed off on some of the small stuff. But what was weird was that on the big stuff the complaints, and sometimes even the complainants, just seemed to disappear into the mist. And I don't mean your usual local hardcore critics and cranks. I mean people who were directly affected by their decisions. Poof, dead silence.

O.k., Doug, my knowledge on the topic is limited but I think so far you're batting a thousand against the brick wall of civic politics.

Even the local rag that ran a couple a vague stories about what was happening seemed to turn tame. I couldn't figure it out but I wasn't about to let it go so I decided to take an even closer look. Went back through the meeting minutes and records from when he started with a fine tooth comb. Nothing obvious. Bombarded the town service departments with questions about everything. Not much. I got an old service buddy of mine still working in my former division to quietly check our databases for anything we had on Morrison right up to when he still had his legal practice. Couple of law society complaints that were withdrawn but apart from that... Nothing. Talked to anyone and everyone in town who had anything to do with him. Nothing. I even tried snooping around the coffee shop where I knew he and his pals met to talk shop during the day. Nothing. It was driving me crazy. I knew the bastard was as crooked as a stick but I couldn't get anything on him. So I figured I had to take a more direct route. I decided I needed to get hold of the Stingray.