Dead by a Dam Site
.... by D. Grant DeMan
At home Spidy Auget loved Marie.
But on the job he admired dams. Especially this big concrete structure in his patrol area. "I'll bet I'm
the only cop who checks all the doors and windows in this dam," he wondered aloud, proudly. Even in last
winter's blizzard and I nearly got lost finding my way. I could have frozen to death. That's dedication!
It was nearly dawn, and he became mesmerized with a billion spiders and layers of webs, blanketing
the surface. Like me each arachnid has its own life and interests, he mused. They work meticulously, as do I.
Though it's only fair to share the glory now and then, something worth doing should be well done. Halfway
measures avail us nothing, he went on. Cops, who remained comfortably seated in their cruisers while
humorously twisting doorknobs with their flashlight beams, displayed fundamental sloth. In the end they
don't prosper. He laughed: "That's why they call me Spidy. Each move has a purpose."
Then he thought of Marie, how she awaits his return at eight with candlelight dinner, a mellow
launching of their petite cozy honeymoon, for he was due four days off this time around graveyard shift. His
desire for her churned like this river, dammed and waiting to break into a rush of passion. Thorough
complete love. There were no faint feelings with Spidy. Nor Marie. No sir!
And in his thoroughness Spidy swung the beam of his flashlight over the edge, probing the river
shallows opposite the lake, and saw it.
"This is twenty-one. I'm 10-20 the dam. Can you send twenty-three over here for a moment?" Spidy
requested of the dispatcher.
"Twenty-three, can you read that? 10-8 to the dam, if possible."
"That's 10-4. Ten eight from the Grand Union," replied Mitch.
It took him seven minutes flat to reach Spidy. "What's up, Buddy? Got something?"
"Down there. What does that look like to you, Mitch?"
"Oh oh. Ohboy," he glanced at his watch. "Let's get down there pronto." They scurried.
"He's just beside the water. Look here. Is that a bullet hole?" Spidy was somewhat taken aback.
"Yep, that's it, Spidy. Shot and thrown here during the night I expect. Check that face. Anyone you
know?" Mitch was the senior officer. He'd know how to handle this.
"God it looks like Mario, Tomasinni's goon. That's who it is. What's this mean, Mitch?"
"The beginning of some kind of turf war. A power struggle over in town. A piece of which we can do
without. Reckon they threw him here to float on down into the next county or even further, and in the dark
he hit dirt instead of water. Just our luck." Mitch became pensive.
"Two feet that way and he'd be gone, downriver like the driftwood over there," Spidy pointed to
flotsam whirling in the slipstream. "Now we'll have to phone the coroner, photographer and investigate all
this. There goes the weekend and more. Damn!"
"Here, fetch that log over there," Mitch began unbuttoning the cadaver's overcoat. "That's it, pull it
under him and do up the buttons." There was a flurry of activity as the sun rose.
They pushed the raft they'd built out into the main stream. "There, now that's what should have
happened in the first place, if those guys hadda done the job correctly," Spidy laughed.
As they watched the body disappear, hats cradled in respect, Mitch murmured, "With this action,
officially we are enlisting the assistance of an adjacent police jurisdiction for the satisfactory solution of this
crime. Perhaps they shall cooperate. In fact I'm confident they will."
"Let's hope the guy who finds him is free to pursue the inquiry properly. That he has no Maria
waiting." Spidy checked his watch, "It's getting close to going-in time."
Mitch laughed, "Just had a thought: what if the next cop sends him back into the river and so on and
so on?"
"And so he goes out into the lake and down the Ste. Lawrence and into the ocean. Ha ha!"
"Floats over to Newfoundland or Europe. Scotland Yard or the Sūreté grabs him! Poor Mario may
even get back to Sicily before he's officially discovered. And they can bury him with his mamma and all."
"One thing for sure. We did things right, Mitch. Halfway measures avail us nothing."
"Amen Spidy. A cop's gotta share the glory with others, don't he? Part of doing a good job."
Beautiful Marie was waiting when Spidy arrived home on time. Their passion was boundless, of
course.
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