A Most Unlikely Source
By
This story directly follows and references situations from “To Catch a Phantom”. It will help to read that story before this one to get the full impact.
**denotes dream sequence/conversations occurring during coma**
Disclaimer: This story contains subject matter that some readers may deem controversial, including the possibility of life after death, the existence of Heaven and Hell, and religion. If any readers find these topics offensive, then this story is not for you. Any comments or complaints should be directed to me, the writer, and not the owner of this website.
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Station 51, The Next Shift
Ed Marlowe walked into the locker room, keeping an eye open for anyone he didn't recognize. During the previous shift, Captain Stanley had announced that Headquarters was sending someone out to evaluate his performance as a paramedic. After listening to Gage and Desoto's horror stories about the woman, Ed was extremely nervous. “If this Martin woman is as bad as they say she is, I better be on my toes,” he muttered to himself. Marlowe nodded a greeting to Mike Stoker, opened his locker, and began to change into his uniform.
John Gage and Roy Desoto pulled into the parking lot almost at the same time that morning. They grinned at each other, both eager to see what Chief McConikee had cooked up for their newest trainee. During their last shift, Captain Stanley had revealed that the person coming out to observe Ed Marlowe was none other than his wife, Louisa. Hank had explained that while the rest of the department knew what was going on, their trainee was completely in the dark.
“I tell you something, Roy ,” snickered Johnny. “This is going to an experience I'll never forget. I just hope I don't laugh and spoil the whole thing.”
His partner laughed, nodding his agreement. “Me, too,” he grinned. “From what Cap told me, even he doesn't know what's going to happen. All I know is that she's going to be in disguise.”
The junior paramedic raised an eyebrow. “Really? She better have a good one, otherwise somebody will blow her cover and ruin the whole masquerade.” He elbowed Desoto as Ed Marlowe came out of the locker room. “Here we go, partner,” he whispered. “Man, Roy ,” he said in his normal speaking voice, “how are we gonna get through the day with Monstrous Martin looking over our shoulders? Why did McConikee pick her anyway? Did we do something to make him mad at us?”
Roy sighed as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. “There's no sense complaining about it, Junior,” he answered. “Besides, she'll only be here for one shift. As long as we follow procedure, we'll be all right. But, I agree with you; we must have gotten on the Chief's bad side somehow.”
Fifteen minutes later, the men lined up for roll call. Hank stood before them, his trusty clipboard in his hands. “Good morning, gentlemen. As you know, Headquarters is sending out an observer out to shadow Gage, Desoto, and Marlowe today. Just go about your business as if she's not even here. Kelly, I don't want any visits from the Phantom, is that clear? All right, here are your assignments. Stoker, engine bay, including washing the engine, Lopez, dorm, Gage and Desoto, dayroom and hang any hose C shift didn't get to, and Kelly, latrine. Marlowe, you're cooking today. Get to work, boys. Ms. Martin will be here at nine o'clock sharp.” He disappeared into the office and called McConikee. “Everything is set, Chief. I told my men exactly what you asked me to. Right; we'll be ready.” The Captain leaned back and his chair and gazed up at the ceiling. An evil chuckle rose in his throat as he imagined Marlowe's reaction to his evaluator. “Ed, you won't know what hit you, pal,” he cackled.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
McConikee's Office, Headquarters
“Okay, Pat, I'm ready,” called Louisa through the bathroom door. She pushed open the door and entered his office. “Do I look like I eat razor blades for breakfast?” she giggled.
The Chief stared at her for an instant, his eyes widening comically. The young woman was dressed in a dark gray outfit that made her look like the strict headmistress of an all-girl Catholic school. Her hair was drawn back form her face and twisted into a severe bun. Thick black-framed glasses perched on the end of her nose, completing her disguise. Her lips were pressed together primly, giving her face a pinched look. McConikee's mouth twitched and he burst out laughing. “Just the sight of you will scare the pants off Marlowe,” he guffawed. “Where's your ruler, sweetheart?”
Louisa screwed up her face and shook a stern finger at him. “None of that, young man,” she barked roughly. “If you can't maintain some sense of propriety, I'll be forced to report you to the Headmaster!” She grinned widely. “Do I sound mean enough?” she asked, eyes twinkling merrily.
“They don't call you ‘Monstrous Martin' for nothing,” replied the Chief. He opened his desk drawer and handed the young woman a set of keys. “I took the liberty of borrowing my brother-in-law's old Cadillac. See, I thought of everything.”
The young woman bent down and picked a leather briefcase off the floor. “This completes my persona,” she snickered. “All us meanies carry satchels like this,” she joked. “They not only carry the necessary paperwork we need, they also double as weapons.”
“Get going, lass, or you'll be late. Nine o'clock sharp , remember?”
“How could I forget? I'll give you a call around noon and let you know how things are developing,” promised Louisa. “Operation Scare-Trainee-To-Death is about to begin!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Station 51
“Man, if we don't get a run soon, I'm gonna go nuts!” grumbled Johnny from the top of the hose tower. “We have to give Ed something to do besides jumping at every little creak he hears.”
“Patience, Junior,” smiled Roy . “It's almost nine o'clock,” he added, glancing at his watch. “Let's go get some coffee so we'll have a front-row seat for the fireworks.”
Gage slid down from the tower and followed his partner inside. Chet was sitting on the sofa with Henry, the station mascot, pretending to read the morning paper. Ed stood at the counter, chopping vegetables for the soup he was making. He glanced up when the two paramedics came in, then went back to what he was doing. “Looks good, Marlowe,” commented Desoto. “Minestrone, right?”
The trainee smiled brightly. “My Grandmother's recipe,” he said, putting down his knife. “She passed it on to me after I graduated from college.”
Stoker burst into the dayroom, Marco hot on his heels. “Look busy, you guys!” he hollered. “Martin just pulled into the parking lot!” He grabbed a sponge and began to wipe off the counter. Marco snatched up a broom and started sweeping the floor, his head bowed to conceal his grin.
Footsteps rang out in the bay as Louisa entered the station. She paused a few feet from the office door, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her glasses. She took a deep breath and let tit out slowly. “Showtime,” she whispered to herself.
Hank pushed back his chair with a scrape and walked into the bay. His jaw dropped when he saw his wife standing there, looking completely unfamiliar. She winked at him saucily and entered the dayroom. “Front and center, gentlemen!” she barked. “Get your tails out here and line up! Move it!” She stepped back as the crew ran to comply. “Don't stand there looking foolish, Captain!” she shouted. “That means you, too!”
“Uh, y-yes, ma'am,” stammered the Captain. He joined his men and bit back a chuckle. “All present and accounted for, ma'am.”
Louisa peered at him over her glasses and sniffed with disdain. “I see that,” she growled. “I can count to six, you know. Gage, Desoto, and Marlowe! Step forward so I'll know who I'll be dealing with!”
The paramedics and their trainee moved out of line and stood there, shifting their feet nervously. The young woman's eyes narrowed as she circled them, taking in every detail of their uniforms. She nodded briskly and waved Johnny forward. “Mr. Gage, when was the last time you actually used polish on those shoes?!?” she demanded. “They look like they've been through a war! Unacceptable! This isn't the reservation, sir! We have standards that must be met! I request an explanation!”
Johnny lowered his eyes shamefully. “My apologies, Ms. Martin, ma'am,” he answered. “I'll take care of it right away.”
“See that you do, Gage,” hissed Louisa. “Desoto, I see you pay more attention to detail than your partner here,” she commented. “As senior man, it is your responsibility to set a good example. I'm pleased to note that your uniform is perfect.” Her lips twisted as she turned her gaze to the trainee. “Taking another shot at it, huh, Marlowe?” she questioned sarcastically. “Let me warn you, sir, if you try to do something you are not instructed to do, I'll kick your sorry butt all over this county. I've read your file, Mr. Marlowe. You may have been a medic in the Army, but here, you're just a trainee. You pull a stunt like you did before and I'll pull you out of the program faster than you can cry for your Momma! Is that understood?”
Ed flushed angrily and nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” he muttered. “It won't happen again.”
“It better not, Marlowe. I'll be watching you like a hawk. You step out of line and I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks.” The young woman stared at him for a second then waved a slender hand. “Captain Stanley, you and your men may go back to whatever it was you were doing. Gage, go polish your shoes and do a good job this time. Marlowe, go with him and learn the proper procedure. Desoto, I'd like to speak to you in the office. Dismissed, gentlemen!”
Roy followed her into the office and closed the door. “”I wouldn't know it was you under that disguise if I passed you on the street,” he whispered.
Louisa smiled thinly. “That was the idea, but after seeing Marlowe face-to-face, I feel bad scamming him. I'm going to call McConikee and tell him to find someone else to do this. He'll probably be angry, but that's his problem.”
Angry was an understatement. The Chief was furious. “If I knew you were going to chicken out, I wouldn't have asked you to help!” he shouted. “Remind me not to include you in any further experiments!!” He slammed down the phone with enough force to crack the plastic.
“I guess I better tell Ed the charade is over,” commented the young woman, taking off her glasses and rubbing her temples. “I hope he won't be too upset to learn he's been the butt of one of McConikee's jokes. Ask him to come in, will you, Roy ? Tell the rest of the guys what's going, too.”
The paramedic nodded and left the office. “Ed, our ‘observer' wants to see you,” he said. Marlowe blanched and looked as if he were on his way to be executed. He knocked on the door and pushed it open. “You wanted to speak with me, ma'am? Wait, you're not Ms. Martin! Where did she go?”
“Have a seat,” replied Louisa. “Ed, I am Ms. Martin, or at least, I used to be,” she said softly. “You see, Chief McConikee set this whole thing up as a way to make sure you didn't wash out again. I went along at first, but after meeting you, I decided I couldn't go through with it. I'm really sorry about this.”
The trainee stared at her in confusion. “If you're not Monstrous Martin, then who are you?” he asked. “Why would the Chief want to set me up?”
“I have no idea about that, but allow me to introduce myself. Louisa Stanley, at your service,” she answered, extending a slender hand. “I'm Hank's wife.”
Marlowe's jaw dropped. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Stanley,” he stammered. “Excuse me for saying so, ma'am, but you look nothing like your picture. That's some disguise you're wearing,” he grinned.
“I hope you won't hold it against me for being so nasty to you, Ed,” smiled Louisa. “I was just following orders. My children may call me ‘The General', but I'm really a nice person once you get to know me.”
“So I've heard,” chuckled Ed. “Lopez and Stoker talk about you all the time. I have to admit you scared the Hell out of me, but I think I can forgive you for that.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Aww, man,” whined Chet when Roy told them that the show was over. “I was looking forward to seeing Marlowe sweat. Guess it's up to me now.”
Hank shot him a glare. “Forget about it, Kelly,” he growled. “Any visits from the Phantom and you'll be in deep trouble, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the Irishman. “It would have been fun, though.”
Marco leaned back in his chair, grinning happily. “I'm glad Lou didn't go through with it,” he said. “She can be mean when she wants to be, but only if someone deserves it. I wonder why McConikee picked on Marlowe.”
“You and me both, big brother,” said Louisa from the door. “You better believe I'm going to find out. If any of these jokers give you any grief, let me know, Ed,” she grinned. “I'll set them straight for you.” She winked at her husband and walked out to the borrowed Cadillac. As she climbed in, her face set in a deep frown. “Chief, you've got a lot of explaining to do.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Headquarters, McConikee's Office
“I don't have to explain my motivation to you or anyone else!” blazed the Chief. “If you won't help me deal with Marlowe, I'll find someone who will! Now, get out of my office!”
“Not until I've had my say!” retorted Louisa angrily, pounding her fist on his desk. “I don't know what you have against that guy, but I won't stand around and let you torture him! What you did was beyond cruel, not to mention childish! Whether or not Ed Marlowe is cut out to be a paramedic isn't your decision. I can't believe you would stoop to this level. I always thought you were better than that, Chief. I guess I didn't know you as well as I thought I did!” She glared at him, her eyes filled with disgust. Shaking her head sadly, the young woman turned and left, slamming the door behind her with a crash.
McConikee bowed his head in shame as her words sunk in. “I have my reasons,” he whispered, staring at the closed door. “If you knew what they were, you wouldn't judge me so harshly, lass.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Louisa drove through the city streets, still fuming that McConikee had duped her into being a part of his mean-spirited plan. She reached out to turn on the radio, which was tuned to a hard rock station. She turned up the volume, filling the car with the music's driving beat. When she stopped at a red light, a man in the next car threw her a sour look. The young woman returned his glare and cranked the volume to maximum level. “How do you like that , you old grouch?” she muttered. The instant the light turned green, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator, her tires squealing as they laid rubber. The young woman laughed out loud as she tore through the intersection, leaving the man sitting there with his mouth hanging open. She swerved around a slow-moving truck, ignoring the driver as he shook his fist at her. Her hand shot out the open window, her middle finger raised in mock salute. “Kiss my ass, pal!” she shouted.
Vince Howard and his partner, David Brooks, were sitting in their idling patrol car outside Ralph's grocery store when the blue Mustang roared past in a blur. He frowned darkly when he recognized the car. “Now where is she going in such a hurry? The speed limit in this area is thirty miles per hour.” He started the engine, flipped on the lights and siren, then took off in pursuit. Brooks snatched up the radio and called for back-up. “ L.A. , this is Car 137,” he said. “We are in pursuit of a 1965 blue Mustang convertible, license plate, Sam, Arthur, Thomas, 149, traveling west on Fairfax Boulevard, approaching Rampart. All available units in the area assist in apprehension.”
The radio crackled. “Car 137, this is Unit 48,” barked a voice. “I am at intersection of Fairfax and Rampart. Perpetrator's vehicle just passed and turned into Rampart General Hospital . I will intercept and detain driver.”
“10-4, Unit 48,” answered Brooks. He patted the radar gun mounted on the dash with a grin and recorded the numbers as they flashed. “These sure come in handy, huh, Vince?”
“Howard chuckled ruefully in agreement. “I can't wait to see Mrs. Stanley's face when we give her a ticket for doing seventy-three in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone,” he commented.
Louisa stopped her car in the hospital parking lot, unaware of the patrol car until it screeched to a halt behind her. She looked over her shoulder, groaning when the officer jumped out and approached the Mustang. He bent down to peer in her window, his hand resting on his revolver. “Step out of the car, miss,” he ordered. He glanced up and waved when Vince and David entered the lot and parked. “Looks like we've got a Richard Petty imitator, boys,” he joked sarcastically. “How fast was she going?”
“Too fast,” said Howard. “We clocked her at seventy-three, Larson. License and registration, please.”
“Come on, Vince,” protested the young woman. “So I was speeding. Give me a ticket and I'll go about my business.”
“License and registration, please,” repeated the officer. He glowered when she made no move to obey. “Mrs. Stanley, don't make me have to ask you again.”
“Fine,” spat Louisa, handing over the documents. “Don't you have anyone else to harass?” she muttered. “I've dealt with enough crap for one day already.”
Brooks opened his mouth to reply. Before he could say a word, Vince reached the end of his patience. “You just bought yourself to trip to the station,” he snapped. “Cuff her, David. Louisa Stanley, you're under arrest for reckless driving, excessive speed, and failure to cooperation with a police officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney.” He went on, informing her of her Miranda Rights. “Do you understand these rights as I have listed them to you?”
The young woman nodded, her eyes sullen. “Yeah, I understand them,” she grumbled, wincing when Brooks handcuffed her and opened the squad car's rear door. She slid across the seat, glaring at him ferociously. “Can you at least get my purse before you leave?” she asked, her voice sharp. “I might need it.”
Officer Larson shuffled his feet, bowing his head to conceal his smirk. “If you've got things under control, I'll be going now,” he said. He walked back to his patrol car, trying to keep from laughing. “Man, she's a feisty one,” he chuckled to himself. “I have a feeling they'll have their hands full.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Howard and Brooks escorted their prisoner into the police station, ignoring the curious stares that followed in their wake. “Have a seat,” ordered Vince, pointing to a row of wooden benches standing against the wall. He unlocked one of the cuffs and snapped it onto the arm of Louisa's chair. “Keep an eye on her for me, Doug,” he called to the desk sergeant. “If she starts spouting off, feel free to tape her mouth shut.” He strode through the booking area, his twinkling eyes negating his stern expression. “Behave yourself, Mrs. Stanley,” he called, pushing open a door on the other side of the room.
The young woman glared and uttered a string of blistering curses. Fortunately for her, she had lapsed into Lakota, ensuring that none of the officers present could understand what she was saying. Although her words were incomprehensible, her meaning was clearly obvious. The desk sergeant coughed to cover a snicker and picked up a newspaper to hide his grin.
Brooks watched as his partner poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “Uh, shouldn't we book her?” he questioned.
Vince took a sip of the steaming brew and rested his elbows on the table. “We will, after we let her stew a while. By the time we get back, I can guarantee her attitude will have changed.” He calmly snagged a doughnut from the box in front of him and took a big bite.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When the officers returned to claim their prisoner, the booking area was in a state of chaos. Louisa leaned forward in her chair, heaping abuse on the desk sergeant, who looked ready to strangle her. Officers Jim Reed and Pete Malloy stood off to one side, heartily enjoying the young woman's performance as she continued her tirade. “Why don't you unglue your sorry ass from that chair and find those two jokers who brought me in?!?” she was screaming at top volume. “God forbid you have to do some actual work around here!”
Doug, the desk sergeant glared at her sourly, resisting the urge to make use of the roll of evidence tape in the drawer. An image of Louisa with the yellow tape wrapped around her jaws brought a grin to his face. “Pipe down!” he yelled back. “We'll process you when we're damn good and ready!”
Vince stood with his hands on his hips. “She giving you trouble, Sergeant?” he asked with a scowl. “Maybe a couple hours in a holding cell will shut her up.” He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs, dragging the young woman to her feet. He gave her a shove, ignoring the venomous look she shot in his direction.
“You need some help with this dangerous criminal?” asked Malloy, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “She might try to escape.”
“Yeah,” added Reed. “These punks with their hot rods think they're above the law. Better keep a close eye on her, Officer.”
“Well, aren't you two just a barrel of laughs?” muttered Louisa sarcastically. “When is Johnny Carson going to have you on his show?”
“Same day you learn how to behave like a lady,” grinned Pete. “Come on, Jim; I want a front-row seat for her booking.”
After she was fingerprinted and photographed, the young woman was taken to speak with Captain Flanagan. The third-generation Irish cop read the arrest report silently. “Very interesting,” he said finally. “What do you have to say for yourself, young lady? These are some pretty serious charges.”
By this time, Louisa had realized just how much trouble she was in. “I know, sir, and I'm sorry. I was wrong to take my anger out on Officers Howard and Brooks,” she answered contritely.
Flanagan rested his chin on his folded hands and smiled. “Seems you have a bit of difficulty controlling your temper, Mrs. Stanley. I recall an incident where you went after a man with a buggy whip. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you had an Irishman in your family tree.”
The young woman blushed and stared down at her lap. “So what happens now?” she asked softly. “Will I need to consult a lawyer?”
The Captain raised an eyebrow at Vince. “What do you think, Howard? Should we release her with just a speeding ticket or do you wish to pursue this matter?”
The African-American police officer pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I suppose I could cut her a break,” he allowed. “I'd like to discuss it with her husband first. Where can I reach him, Mrs. Stanley?”
“He's on duty today,” answered Louisa. “I'll call him if you like.”
“All right,” replied Flanagan, pushing the phone across the desk. He watched as Louisa dialed the station. “Hi, Roy , it's Lou. Could I speak to Hank, please? Hey, honey. Uh, well, believe it or not, I'm at the police station. No, nothing's wrong, but, um, I've been arrested. Vince wants to talk to you.”
Howard took the receiver. “Hello, Hank. Your wife was caught doing seventy-three in a thirty mph zone. Uh huh, right. She's been charged with reckless driving, excessive speed, and failure to cooperate with a police officer. On top of that, she used her rather extensive vocabulary to berate our new desk sergeant. No, we can keep her as long as you like. Okay, I'll tell her.” He hung up and grinned at the young woman. “He's going to call your mother and ask her to come pick you up. I'll write you a ticket for forty-seven miles per hour and drop the other charges on the condition that you apologize to Doug for being a royal pain in the backside. Is it a deal?”
Louisa breathed a sigh of relief and nodded eagerly. “I guess I was kind of rude to him, huh? What about my car?”
Vince chuckled and handed her the keys. “In the future, don't drive when you're mad. You're damn lucky you didn't injure anyone. Come on, I'll take you up front to wait for your mother.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Station 51
Hank cradled the receiver and leaned against the wall, his face twitching. Roy looked at him curiously, dying to know what was going on. Finally, unable to keep quiet, he asked. “Cap, is something wrong? Is Louisa all right?”
Captain Stanley glanced up and burst out laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh, she's fine, except that Vince picked her up for speeding and other assorted charges,” he wheezed.
Mike Stoker lowered his newspaper and stared at the Captain with wide eyes. “Are you serious?!?” he hooted. “Let me guess; she was driving the Mustang! I always knew that car was going to get her into trouble one of these days!” he snickered.
“She's lucky Flanagan has a sense of humor,” grinned Hank. “According to Vince, while she was waiting to be booked, my wife cussed out the desk sergeant using some very colorful language!”
“Knowing my sister, I'm afraid to ask what she said,” laughed the engineer. He turned his head when the back door opened and Louisa herself walked in, followed by Maria. “Speak of the devil and she appears,” he murmured, hiding his amused expression behind the paper.
The young woman stopped in her tracks. “Let me guess; Hank told you everything, didn't he?” she accused. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, you guys. Get your shots in while you can.”
Johnny leaned against the chalk board he had just cleaned and grinned broadly. “Practicing for the race circuit, Lou?” he questioned. “Be glad it was Vince that caught you and not someone else. What should we do with her, Cap? Take away her driving privileges and send her to bed without supper?”
Lopez propped his broom against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “Papa used to ground her,” he said. “But I think she's too old for that.”
“Marco, why don't you make like a drought and dry up?” snapped his sister. “You don't exactly drive slow, buster. At least I didn't smash up the car like you did. Papi was so mad, I thought he was going to explode.”
Marco reddened and retrieved his broom. “Don't remind me,” he grumbled. “I spent months doing chores to earn enough money to pay for the repairs.”
“I rest my case,” answered Louisa smugly. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Desoto grinning at her. “What? Did I suddenly grow a third eye or something?”
The senior paramedic shook his head. “No, I was just wondering what you said to that desk sergeant. Care to enlighten me?”
The young woman smiled wickedly. “Even if I did, you wouldn't understand a word I said. Johnny probably would, though.” She whispered in Gage's ear, making him laugh and blush at the same time. “Don't you dare translate that, if you know what's good for you.”
“My lips are sealed,” promised Johnny. “Maria might wash both our mouths out if she knew what you said.”