11
A True Man Exposes Truth
It was a bright, cloudless day. The sky was visible through the windows of the Trueman Bradley Detective Agency. The windows were open and a warm wind moved through the room.
I caught a paper that was about to fly off my desk.
“Please close that window, Mrs. Levi,” I said.
“Why, of course, dear!” she said.
Mrs. Levi moved to the window that was beside my desk and tried to close it. It seemed to be stuck and I watched her as she struggled to close it. Her arms shook and her shoulders heaved.
But I didn’t have time to continue watching her. I had made an exact schedule about what I would do today. I had every minute planned with precision and, this time, I didn’t intend to deviate from my checklist. Everything would be done perfectly.
Mrs. Levi had been answering the telephone all day and had scheduled appointments for people to meet me. After my name had appeared in the newspapers, many people started calling our agency or knocking on our front door. Everybody was interested in me: newspaper reporters, television stations, college students doing research papers, police agencies, other private detectives and hundreds of hopeful people, believing I could solve their case with my seemingly magical equations.
We had to turn away hundreds of people, telling them to call again later. But I devised a method of scheduling eighty meetings in four hours, by strictly organizing them and limiting each meeting to three minutes exactly. I had an antique clock timer used for chess games. Sal had found it for me at an antiques shop. I wasn’t sure what year it was made, but a few Russian Cyrillic letters on the side indicated where it had been manufactured. I used the Russian antique chess clock to limit my meetings to exactly 180 seconds.
I looked at my checklist. My recent successes had inspired me to improve my checklist system. Instead of writing a list of things for me to do in a day, I created a diagram. I have a better memory for images than I do for words. So I created a big circle that represents my day, and inserted symbols at the degrees of the circle that represent certain times of day or night. The symbols represented what I must do. With this improved, visual checklist, I was able to see the perfection and symmetry of my daily plan more easily. Also, I could quickly and easily remember what I had to do next.
I was working my way through today’s meetings and was nearly at the end.
“Next,” I said, “I must meet with Mr. Dermot Kelly, from the neighborhood of Windsor Terrace, in Brooklyn.”
I looked at the other side of the office, which served as our waiting room. Sal and Nora had escorted the people into a line and ensured they were ready for their meeting. I hit the starter button on the chess timer and Nora led an elderly man to my desk. He wore a red and white checkered hat and walked with an oak cane.
“Mr. Trueman Bradley?” asked the elderly man.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s me. What do you want from me?”
Mrs. Levi sorted through some papers.
“This man is Dermot Kelly,” she said. “He wants you to solve the case of his missing grand-daughter.”
“That’s right, sir!” said Mr. Kelly. “The police have been no help! No, none at all! I read about your miraculous powers, sir. I was hoping you were the miracle I’d been waiting for. If only you could use your powers to save my grand-daughter and bring peace to my mind again, I’d be willing to pay you everything I have! You can’t imagine how painful it is, losing my little grand-daughter. She’s all I have in the world…”
I felt sympathy for the old man, but I knew there were only 137 seconds remaining before our meeting was over and I’d be busy with Buckley’s case for at least two days. I needed to help him quickly, or I wouldn’t be able to help for a long time.
“Quick!” I said. “Tell me the following details of your grand-daughter’s disappearance. The time, the date, the exact location and how old she was.”
“Oh…” he said, “well, if memory serves me correct, sir, I do believe it was right about the time I lost my wallet on the subway. I was changing trains, you see, at Broadway Junction, when this young fella came up behind me…”
“Please!” I said. “I only have 90 seconds to solve this case! I want you to tell me the details I asked for!”
“Oh, I’m sorry…” he said. “Of course, the details, yes. Well, just a moment, let me think now…”
“Oh, hold on a minute, dear!” said Mrs. Levi. “I got that information from Mr. Kelly when we talked on the telephone. I wrote it down. Mr. Kelly’s grand-daughter, Katherine Kelly, vanished fifteen days ago at approximately midnight. She was last seen on the corner of Remsen Street and Clinton Street.”
“And how old is she?” I asked.
Mrs. Levi examined her papers.
“Katherine is nineteen years old,” said Mr. Kelly.
“Okay,” I said. “Wait, please.”
I closed my eyes and put my earphones into my ears, so I would not be distracted. I inserted these variables into my crime-fighting equation and quickly calculated a solution.
“Katherine Kelly ran away from home,” I said. “She probably ran away with her boyfriend, who is probably older than her and lives in Brooklyn. If you visit the apartment building at 80 Clymer Street, east of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, I think you will discover Katherine and her boyfriend are living there.”
I hit the stop button on the antique chess clock.
“Three minutes!” I said.
Mr. Kelly’s face had changed. He didn’t appear to be sad. Now he had a look on his face I could recognize as anger.
“Ran away, did she?” he asked. “With a man? That little brat! I’ll go get her and bring her home, you mark my words!”
“Please!” I said. “Your time is done. Next!”
“Wait, sir!” he said. “I didn’t pay you!”
“I have no time for that!” I said. “Next!”
Nora grabbed Mr. Kelly and pulled him away. Sal approached, leading a gray-haired lady. She was dressed in a green suit.
“Mrs. Tabitha Sparks?” I asked. “Freelance reporter?”
“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Levi. “She’s your next appointment.”
“Mr. Bradley!” said Mrs. Sparks. “What a pleasure to meet you! I was wondering if you’d be so good as to grant me an interview? You’ve become quite a sensation in New York and I understand you haven’t given any interviews to the press?”
“You understand correctly,” I said.
“Fabulous!” she said. “Aren’t I lucky to have been the first to catch you, then? You don’t mind if I conduct a short interview, do you? It’ll be in all the newspapers, I’m sure. You’re big news, Mr. Bradley! You don’t mind, do you?”
“No,” I said.
Mrs. Sparks smiled and pulled a small digital sound recorder from her pocket, as well as a notebook and pen.
“Can we start then?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said.
“First, let me tell you again what a pleasure it is to meet you, Trueman!” she said. “Do you mind if I call you Trueman?”
“No,” I said. “Why would I mind? That’s my name. What else would you call me?”
“Oh!” she said. “Ha-ha! Funny! Yes, of course. Why would I call you any name but the one you were born with, right? And, please, feel free to call me Tabitha.”
“I wasn’t born with the name Trueman,” I said.
“You weren’t?” she asked. “Do tell!”
“My name was originally spelled T-R-U-M-A-N,” I said. “That was the name my mother gave me after I was born. I changed it to T-R-U-E-M-A-N when I decided to become a detective.”
“Oh, really?” she asked. “Why did you change it?”
“Because,” I said, “I thought that’s a good name for a detective. Because detectives try to solve mysteries and expose the true details of what happened. So I am a ‘true man,’ because I am a man who exposes the truth for people who are seeking the truth. A ‘true man’ exposes tr
uth and exposing truth is my job, so my name should be Trueman. This makes logical sense. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Mrs. Sparks scratched her head with her pen and I could not interpret her expression. She wrote something in her notebook.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s move on to the next question. Since you’ve been in the newspapers, your name’s become well known. It’s even been reported that powerful and prestigious people have become interested in your equations. I’ve read the Federal Bureau of Investigation is interested! Is that true? I also read the Associated Licensed Detectives of New York State want you to give a seminar, explaining your equations. Are you planning to accept that invitation? I hear you’ve been flooded with hundreds of phone calls from around the world. Everyone wants you to solve their cases. People think you’re something like a magician and that your equations are a kind of magic that can solve every mystery. So, given all this media attention and all these different people asking for your attention and assistance, what exactly are you planning to do?”
I couldn’t speak a word. I had realized that I was getting attention because of the newspaper stories about me, but so far, I had been able to confront it all in simple, understandable, three-minute chunks. Mrs. Sparks revealed to me how big and intimidating this attention really was. I can only comfortably confront a problem if it is given to me in small pieces.
I was also confused because she had asked me three questions and I wasn’t sure which one I should answer. Mrs. Sparks’ questions were too confusing and I was getting nervous.
“Well…” I said. “I don’t know.”
She looked at me for a few seconds, in silence.
“You don’t know what do about it?” she asked.
I stared at her, unable to talk. How could I tell her what I planned to do about it, if I had no idea what to do or exactly what “it” was. I had just now realized I was required to do something and had no answer yet. I looked at the chess timer.
“Three minutes!” I said.
I hit the stop button on the timer.
“Next, please!” I said.
“What?” asked Mrs. Sparks. “Next? But we just started the interview! I have fifteen more questions to ask you!”
I made a hand motion to Sal and he understood my wishes. Sal came and pulled Mrs. Sparks away from me. She continued to protest loudly as Sal forced her to leave the building. I was glad to see her go, because her questions made me nervous.
“Next!” I said. “Who’s next, Mrs. Levi?”
“Me, Trueman!” said Buckley.
I saw that a group of police officers were the only people remaining in the waiting area. Detective Buckley was standing in the middle of the group. He looked at his wristwatch.
“We were scheduled to meet you at 11:00 am,” said Buckley. “Here we are, exactly on time. You run a tight ship, Trueman.”
“Hello Detective,” I said. “I’m glad to see you! Does this mean we’re finished the eighty appointments?”
“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Levi. “Detective Buckley is your last appointment for today.”
“Great!” I said. “Then we can begin talking about our mission! I’ll get out my chart of La Guardia airport and we’ll begin. But I’m confused about your statement, Detective.”
“What statement?” he asked.
“I run a tight ship?” I asked. “I don’t know what you mean. Are you talking about boats or shipments?”
“Forget it, Trueman,” he said. “Just an expression.”
“Okay,” I said. “Could everyone come here, please? Please come watch me! We’ll discuss the plan for today’s mission!”
Nora, Sal, Mrs. Levi, Buckley and the six policemen that accompanied him all stood around my desk and gave me their full attention. I unfolded my chart of La Guardia airport. I had written hundreds of mathematical equations on the chart and made geometric diagrams with my compass and protractor. Because of my additions, it looked more like an engineer’s blueprint than a map of La Guardia airport. I picked up a small pointing stick and started explaining my plans for executing this mission.
“As you can see,” I said, “La Guardia airport has four separate sections. The first section is called the Central Terminal, the second is called the US Airways Terminal, the third is called the Delta Terminal and the fourth is called the Marine Air Terminal. Now, what we’re going to do is… Nora, Sal, Mrs. Levi and I will each wait in one of the four terminals. When the suspect arrives, we’ll call the police and they’ll come arrest the criminal. Then we can begin the search for evidence.”
Everyone was silent.
“Do you understand my plan?” I asked.
“No,” said Buckley. “Why are you guys waiting in four terminals? I don’t even know who it is we’re looking for.”
I hadn’t realized that Buckley and the others were unaware of the purpose of our mission. I had not told them the results of my equations, but somehow I had assumed they already knew.
“Did I forget to tell you?” I asked. “I didn’t tell you how I solved the murder of Eddie Sipple, did I?”
“No,” said Buckley. “You neglected to mention that.”
“I guess I did,” I said. “Well, I used my crime-fighting equation to determine the true details of Eddie’s murder. I tried to locate the murderer, but I couldn’t.”
“I thought your equation is supposed to solve crimes,” said Buckley. “Now you’re telling me it just didn’t work?”
“No, you don’t understand!” I said. “My crime-fighting equation does work! But it is designed to work in New York City. It doesn’t work anywhere else. The murderer of Eddie Sipple left New York City. So, I have no way of knowing where he is! My equation only works in New York City. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, okay,” said Buckley. “I understand you. But if that’s the case, then why are we looking for the murderer at La Guardia? You said you have no idea where he is, right?”
“Correct,” I said. “My equation doesn’t know where he went. But it can tell me when he’ll return to New York City. I know he will be returning today. My equation told me he will be in La Guardia airport at noon. So, that means he must be arriving in a plane. Do you understand my plan now?”
“Okay!” said Buckley. “Now I understand you! You don’t know which terminal he’s arriving at, right? That’s why each of you are waiting in the four terminals to see if he arrives.”
“Correct!” I said.
“Okay, I get it,” said Buckley.
“Guys,” he said to his men, “I want one of you to join each of these people and keep an eye on them, okay? Except Trueman. I’ll be his partner. He’s the man with the plan, guys. So, let’s all take care of Trueman, okay? All you guys listen to whatever he says, okay. If he tells you to do something, obey him as if he was me. Trueman’s the boss today.”
The police officers nodded their obedient assent and looked at me expectantly. Nora was smiling and I could recognize that she was pleased with me. I wasn’t sure if it was pride or affection she was feeling, but either way, it made me happy.
“Well, boss,” said Buckley, to me, “you ready to go?”
I looked at the expectant faces that surrounded me and felt proud to have somehow inspired the confidence of all these people. Not only were my friends confident in my ability to lead them and solve this case, even the police were impressed with me and willing to let me determine their course of action.
I looked up at the Dick Tracy comics that were displayed on the walls of my office. I was now as famous and respected as Dick Tracy and I wanted to lead this mission with all the manly, self-assured confidence that Dick Tracy would if he were in my position. I concentrated as intensely as I could and imagined I was Dick Tracy. I looked at the new, yellow trench coat I had bought to replace the one that had been bleached by acid. I put it on slowly, imagining I was Dick Tracy. I grabbed my yellow hat from the coat rack and put it on my head.
“Alright,” I sai
d, in a manly voice. “Let’s go.”
I walked confidently through the crowd, planning to lead them out of the building. My feet hit a chair and I fell down to the ground, knocking down half the chairs in the waiting room. I screamed in terror and landed on my back in the middle of the waiting room floor. Nora screamed and ran towards me.
“Trueman!” she shouted. “Are you alright?”
Nora picked me up.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think I’m okay.”
I looked at the police officers and noticed some of them were smiling. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I knew my clumsy fall was not something Dick Tracy would have done. I felt embarrassed by my clumsiness. I’ve always been physically awkward and have often lost my balance like this and fallen down to the ground. Nora took my arm and led me towards the exit. We walked out onto the street.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” whispered Nora. “Everyone trips sometimes. It’s happened to me lots of times. There’s nothing wrong with that. That is, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“No,” I said. “There is something wrong with me. I’m clumsy. I’ve always been physically awkward.”
“Well,” she said, “then I’ll be your partner for this mission, okay? I’ll do anything that takes a lot of… balance, or physical work, okay? We can be a team, okay?”
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” she asked.
“I don’t need help,” I said. “I won’t be clumsy for much longer. I’ve found a cure.”
“You found a cure for clumsiness?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, what’s the cure for clumsiness, then?” she asked.
“Shh! It’s a secret,” I said. “I’ll tell you later.”
We stopped on the sidewalk, where crowds of pedestrians were beginning to appear, enjoying their lunch hour in the summer sun. The police officers turned to face me and I felt I had a second chance to look professional in front of these cops.
“Detective! Officers!” I said. “Please get into your cars and follow our Lincoln car to La Guardia airport.”
I looked at the faces of the police officers and saw no indication of laughter or mirth. They seemed to be taking me seriously, as if I were an actual police detective, like Buckley or Dick Tracy. That particular tone of voice, manly and confident, seemed to work very well. I made an effort to remember to use that tone of voice in the future.