Ockham's Razor: A Deductive Riddle

Chapter 34

Ian snuck back into his apartment three hours later. Had he been more confident or audacious, he could have gotten there much earlier. But his near run in with Smooshface and the Bulldog, plus knowing that the police had been there to arrest Dean, had taken nearly all of his confidence away. All throughout the ride he kept analysing and reviewing everything that had gone on in the past several hours. What did the Bulldog know when she said that she did not realise he had robbed the place until afterwards? Was she following Dean for other reasons? Was Ian being followed?

As he approached his neighbourhood, he was concerned that the police would be waiting for him. He clandestinely threaded the streets in the vicinity of his apartment looking for any signs of police activity, normal or otherwise. Bolstering himself for the final leg, he dashed to his apartment. A quick assessment told him that the police were not there, and he was not at threat, for the moment.

He closed the door to his apartment and flipped the lock. He took a quick look at the door itself and realised that given the battering ram the police used, this lock would hold them back for all of a millisecond. Nerves and adrenaline were pushing him now. He did another quick scan around his apartment, took off his hoodie and laid it across the back of a kitchen chair. He just opened the refrigerator when his phone rang making him jump. Hesitantly, he picked it up. There was no name on the display, which was a relief. Dave never allowed his phone number to be displayed on his outgoing calls. He took a couple of breaths to calm his voice. "Hello, Dave" he opened as he usually did.

"Ian, it's Lauren. Who's Dave?" The familiar, yet unexpected voice pierced his ear through the earpiece. Ian was completely unprepared to talk to Lauren. No one from the heist had his number. "Never mind.' She continued without hesitation. "Have you heard what happened to Dean?"

Having not yet recovered from what he had seen and his stealthy run home, not knowing who to trust and still being shocked by Lauren on his phone, Ian was not really wanting to give up too much information about what he had seen. He feigned ignorance "No. What are you talking about?" He was claiming to himself that he really had no idea who was on his side. He figured that Dean was in hiding for fear of being taken down. The police were probably issuing statements about a dangerous person being arrested and the community made safer. Well, they were probably right, in this case. "I haven't heard a thing" he lied.

"He's been committed to the psychiatric care ward at the Great Plains Metropolitan Hospital."

This hit Ian like a sucker punch in a bar fight. Of all things to say about Dean's situation, he had not expected this. He had expected to hear a report that an arrest had been attempted, but committed to the psych ward was completely out of left field.

"How did this happen?"

"Well, Bill called me with the news that Dean was committed. The two cops that were involved in our activities were the ones that had him committed. They apparently found him when they went in on an arrest for someone that bumped off a gas station in the west end of the city. They found him acting erratically. Fearing that he was a danger to himself or others, they had him committed."

Ian was digesting all that information. He had witnessed the takedown, but he had not stuck around for the denouement to that chapter at the apartment building near the rail yards.

Something struck him. "How did you get my number?"

"Oh, that was Bill. He gave me everyone's phone number, and told me to contact us all. He wants to protect us."

The first thing that popped into Ian's mind was that Bill wanted to confirm we are all at home to arrange the police take down.

"I've got to get out of here. I don't want to be committed like Dean."

"Ian, we are meeting. Meet us at the cafeteria at the GPSU. It is public, and difficult for others to trap us there. We have plenty to discuss."

Fearing what would happen if he did not, he felt manipulated, once again, into taking action in something he did not want to do.

"I'll be there. When is the meeting?"

"Be there for three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

With that, Ian ended the call and barricaded himself in his bedroom. Three o'clock tomorrow would make for a very, very long night tonight.