Clown Phone (4)

Life imitates art. Here’s a scene from the Clown Phone story (see earlier iterations here, here and here):

Inspector Mustapha Alawi looked around the parking lot of the dilapidated apartment complex. “Didn’t we catch one here last fall? Two guys had a beef about the one’s babymamma?”

Detective Diana Siddal looked around, shook her head. “Next block over.”

“Same damn place.” He walked over to the sergeant, who had three women in the back of a patrol car. Even the one who was a little thugged out was way too classy for this neighborhood. “You want to walk me through this?”

As the sergeant did, Mustapha could see Diana’s jaw drop. Nice to see something could still shock her. Finally, she said, “You mean this was some kind of planned vigilante killing? Over a phone?”

“Ask them, ma’am,” said the sergeant.

They did. “Killing was not our objective,” said the one who made sure they knew she was an ex-Marine. “We only brought firearms for self-defense.”

“Which is what this was,” said the yuppie. “Then the dude drew down on us. And don’t give us grief about taking matters into our own hands.”

“Y’all sure wouldn’t help us,” said the Marine.

“Hang on,” said Mustapha. He said to the sergeant, “Is this true, that they talked to officers in Midtown? Yeah? Okay, ladies, let’s pretend it makes sense to do a home invasion instead of just calling us. How the hell did you find these guys? Did you know them from before?”

“Track My Phone,” said the nerdy one and Diana simultaneously. “It’s a website,” said Diana. “Remember when I left my phone in Duane’s personal ride, and I used the terminal to track it down?”

“Oh, yeah. Right to his ex-boyfriend’s place. Boy, was he embarrassed. Okay, so now let’s move onto why busting in on them seemed like the right course of action.”

“I think we’re done talking,” said the yuppie. “They took our phones as evidence, but we want to contact legal representation.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s your right.” Mustapha addressed the sergeant. “You want to hold them at the—no, take’em to Midtown, will you? They’ll wreck the ambience at your precinct. Put them in separate rooms after they make calls. We’ll sort out what the forensics say before we interview them again.”

On the ride back to Midtown, Kathy tried as hard as she could to make herself care that another young black man was dead in a senseless crime. But Laura and Mary on either side of her work clearly enjoying themselves and the vibrations were too strong. They were going to get through this, but then what? She could split all her free time between the gym and dating sites, but the odds were still against her. Maybe she could just live with a woman, for the companionship… No. Even if something like that could work, she’d still be bringing men in, and they’d be players, and it would mess things up. Maybe she should hang out with Mary more, get to meet some of these white nerdy boys. Maybe she’d get to like that. Maybe being lonely was her lot in life. Maybe having standards was the problem.

Dumb criminals, pretty much dumber victims here. But they use technology to track the theft, which is the point. Now take a look at this story from Columbus GA:

Columbus police say the burglars did the same thing every time.  They looked for houses with a car in the driveway and knocked to see if anyone was home. With no answer, they forced their way inside and looked for car keys.  Then they’d use the victim’s own car to haul away everything inside their house.  It was happening again and again, and always as the day was beginning…

Later that same morning, a woman on Valencia Drive called police to say her front door was busted down and over four thousand dollars worth of televisions and electronics were taken, including an iPad.  With the help of a tracking app, she was able to tell police her iPad was in a room at the Best Western motel on Macon road where the suspects were staying.

Police arrived immediately afterward to arrest at least two more people.  Officers found most of the stolen items inside both the hotel room and the stolen car pursued from Phenix City.

The trouble with satire in our world is that the real world catches up too quickly.

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