Never Underestimate the Power of Undercover

A sample from "Matters of Taste", Book Two of the Deuce Luce Wine and Crime Trilogy


Deuce wondered if Bystrom was going to show up at Mullins’ office wearing his priest outfit. He recalled Bystrom the storyteller talking about all of his undercover exploits and the various costumes they required. He laughed at the time Bystrom stopped a carjacking in his Bozo the Clown costume. Bystrom was on an undercover assignment in one of the Bozoburger restaurants. The word was out that members of a local theft ring would meet almost daily for lunch at a Bozoburger fast-food joint and discuss future jobs. The undercover assignment had Bystrom in a Bozo the clown outfit passing out balloons and bubblegum to all of the children in the restaurant. He was wearing a small VHF transceiver to monitor the conversations of the crew, which was unaware a microphone was hidden beneath their table.

A loud ruckus and the unmistakable sound of gunshots diverted Bystrom from his surveillance. Running out of the restaurant, one hand on his transceiver and the other on a massive revolver which he called his pocket cannon, he saw a carjacker attempting to pull the driver out of his vehicle. He ran toward him yelling “put down the gun, you’re under arrest”. The carjacker, confronted by a clown armed with a monstrous gun, dropped his weapon and spreadeagled himself on the ground and prayed that the motherfucker on the other end of the gun wasn’t going to cap his ass.  A customer called the police and waited until they showed up. The cops were more confused than the carjacker. Bystrom showed his federal credentials to them. Laughing themselves silly the only question the police had for Bystrom was the same one asked by the carjacker—“man, what kind of gun is that?”  And of course the local newspaper led with the inevitable headline—"Bozo Goes Ballistic!"

Deuce had to figure Bystrom got so many laughs recalling his exploits that he was into undercover work more for the costumes than for the apprehension of criminals. And he reckoned if Bystrom wasn’t so emotionally attached to his handlebar mustache he’d probably grab at an assignment that gave him the chance to dress in drag. Bystrom, on the other hand took his undercover assignments seriously. He had done undercover work for two years of his fifteen year stint with the Bureau.

 Bystrom, back at Marchand’s place was hatching his ‘gorilla my dreams’ plot to get Majeski out of his comfort zone. He figured Majeski had a security camera in his apartment so what about paying a visit while Majeski was gone? It wouldn’t be an ordinary call. He would be resplendent in his gorilla costume doing pirouettes and jetés all over Majeski’s apartment knowing that the security camera would end up with plenty of bizarre video. It was a way of letting Majeski know that the end was near and that he had better get his shit in one sock. What was he going to do? Show the video to the police? And if the authorities would go this far what the hell else would they do? In his paranoid state it was time for the ‘cosmic other shoe’ to fall.

Bystrom had Majeski’s work schedule: he had Marchand position himself near the Physical Sciences building with the instruction to call him when Majeski was seen entering the building. Once it was confirmed Bystrom could take his time setting things up for his upcoming gorilla ballet. For a final touch he taped a note to the computer monitor screen which said “Attention—gorilla invasion. Check your security camera for results—film at 11:00”. That ought to shake him up thought Bystrom.  

When Majeski returned home and saw the video, he was living proof that the phrase ‘he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind’ meant something. He was in a state of panic. His first move was to take a valium and try to calm down. He had to talk to his landlady to see if she knew anything. What was he going to do—ask her if she saw any suspicious looking gorillas around? Just that one move of Bystrom’s had Majeski hanging by the ropes in a state of total confusion. It also put Bystrom in a bit of a fix. He would need to step up security around Bette. It was time to call Deuce and let him know what the plan was. He would put on his Catholic priest outfit and play the part of Father Bystrom, who would hang around during her office hours. His cover was that he was visiting from Notre Dame and was there to meet Bette with whom he’d be doing a peer review of an article on quarks and leptons submitted for publication in the Journal of Particle Physics.

Majeski, on his part, calmed down and decided that the best strategy was to do nothing. As far as he was concerned no gorillas had danced in his bedroom. He was still a little confused as to just what the authorities knew about him. He figured if they had proof that he was the one who set off the bomb they would have arrested him. Since they went to the length of planting evidence in his apartment—they supposedly had something on him, but he knew that they didn’t have enough to make a case. At minimum he should continue to do what he usually did—work at the Physical Sciences building and study at home.