The rest of the week was spent in waiting. Since the Ameses gave us no physical description of the thieves, all Officer Barnes and I could do was wait until we got the results on the DNA tests back. Now, we didn’t expect Albert or Joshua Ames to be able to give a description of the thief. By their story, they didn’t even know it had happened until long after the fence had been cut and the thief was gone. So, until we got the DNA results, we’d have to get lucky in the search.
And for the most part the luck that was needed was not forthcoming. Things remained relatively quiet for a few days. With that little action on that front, it left me worried that the guy had left town. And that could mean that tracking him down would be difficult.
Though the quiet didn’t entirely mean bad news. The bear that both Officer Barnes and the Animal Control officers insisted had to be taken in was successfully live trapped. Both of the Animal Control officers sent a report to Officer Howard out of courtesy on their operation to catch the animal. It turned out to be a six to seven hundred pound female bear, with three cubs. All had been found in the live trap, and were now being driven to a zoo in Helena where the old Grizzly they had had, had to be euthanized due to age and health issues with the bear. And so, while the “Ames” bear wouldn’t be able to remain in the wild, they would at least be kept alive.
And with the quiet, the campaign for the school district superintendent’s spot resumed the main issue that I found myself following. And after a few quiet days, the heat of the campaign heated up again as the day of the fourth debate for the post arrived. Again the debate was to held in the high school gym. This time Molly and I made sure we arrived somewhat early. This was to make sure we wouldn’t be stuck in a position where we would be left trying to cramp our legs into the stand seats that were not large enough for us.
We settled into a set of front row seats and waited for the debate to begin. After a few moments of waiting quietly, the debate did begin. And as it turned out, the moderator was one of the other teachers at the elementary school.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the fourth debate for the position of School District Superintendent between the challenger, Tabitha Choir and the Incumbent, Wayne Hireman.”
Molly and I listened closely as the debate began. Unlike the previous debate which tried to keep matters limited to non-Animal Person related issues, this debate would not have the same limitation in the rules. If Hireman expected to win, he would need to be able to handle the criticism against his racist policies.
“Mr. Hireman, the first question goes to you,” the moderator spoke, “over the course of this campaign, you have championed extremely heavy regulations of Molly Wayne which many now believe to be racist, yet you continue to back the policies and used remarks taken out of context to back these attacks. How can you justify this when Molly Wayne has proven to not only be good with the children in her care… but that these measures are not necessary?”
“My measures are necessary,” Hireman answered, “without them, Mrs. Wayne would have done more to try and eat them. One must always remember that they are not some dumb slobbering animal. They are fully capable of any deviousness one could imagine. Without a firm hand, she and her husband may try to take more then they deserve. It is not racism to protect one’s children… and ultimately for he best interests of the school.”
“You’ve sought to deny her a chance to prove herself from day one,” Tabby charged.
“And it’s proven successful,” Hireman shot back, “can you say with one hundred percent certainty that Molly or George Wayne wouldn’t attack our children without a strong hand overseeing them?”
“I…”
“Now remember, this has to be a “I know with absolutely one hundred percent”,” Hireman smirked, “not, I believe… I’m fairly certain… You have to have one hundred percent certainty.”
“I am certain they wouldn’t be a threat,” Tabby answered, “they’ve proven quite trustworthy with Dave and I… with Veronica as well.”
“With your family… how about with the rest of the town’s children?” Hireman questioned, and then spoke when Tabby didn’t immediately answer, “I thought not.”
Molly patted one leg to keep me from growling at the man. The moderator, meanwhile regained order in the debate and turned to ask Tabby her question.
“Mrs. Choir,” the moderator began, “In contrast to Mr. Hireman, you have countered that his policies are racist and that supporting them would be a step backward…do you still believe so? And what makes you believe this?”
“Because my family knows Molly Wayne,” Tabby answered, “she is kind hearted. She is smart. She is funny. She is good with children. Does she have the instincts of a tiger? Yes. Do they control her? No. She has functioned just like you and I in every scenario. Not just in the school where Mr. Hireman’s racism is supposedly the only thing keeping her from attacking someone… but in town where Hireman’s rules don’t apply. I dare anyone who has talked with her on the street or at the grocery to say she has some devious plan.”
Tabby then paused to sigh.
“And that is why Hireman’s policies would be a step backward,” Tabby concluded, “back from a free and inclusive society that welcomes all peoples for who they are. Not preconceived notions. Backward into the days of Jim Crowe. Backward into darkness. And the notion of speaking with hundred percent certainty only is fear mongering. Humans can be just as dangerous, and even our closest friends can do things that we find be surprising.”
And so the debate went on. From there the moderator moved onto non-animal person related issues. Things related to the budget, the justification for art and music. Even handling the school district’s sports programs. That however, seemed to turn much of the mood against Tabby. She didn’t really take any different position, but Hireman used her idea to not by new uniform designs every year as an attack on the sports programs. Tabby spent the rest of the night trying to clarify her position.
That left me with an uneasy feeling. And sure enough, the next morning’s paper reported that Hireman had won the debate. Not because his racism was supported, but because he’d made it look like Tabby was out to cut the school’s sport’s programs.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
As the week came to an end, the results from the blood tests finally came in. Officer Barnes and I had just completed a quiet morning patrol when we found Officer Howard waiting for us with a paper in his hand.
“Officers Wayne, Barnes, would you mind coming into my office, please?” he spoke.
“We wouldn’t mind, sir,” Officer Barnes answered and moved to follow him.
I nodded and followed Officer Barnes into Officer Howard’s office. As we went in, Officer Howard moved to sit behind his desk.
“First off, did you two find anything?” Officer Howard asked.
“Nothing so far when it comes to our thief,” I admitted, “he might have left town, I fear.”
Officer Howard gave a nervous sigh. Once that was done, he handed a sheet of paper.
“Well, you may not have found him, but I’d believe we now know WHO we are looking for,” Officer Howard reported, “the blood you found had dried a lot… but the lab guys managed to get something off of it.”
“So, we know who the thief is?” Officer Barnes asked.
“Yes,” Officer Howard nodded, “the tests they took DID match the profile of a known criminal, although they had look at a more national level list, not just the State of Montana list.”
“So, who is it?” I asked while Officer Barnes read through the papers.
“According to the results, he is Horace Washerman,” Officer Howard answered, “a known animal rights activist.”
If I had been drinking anything, I would have spit it out.
“An animal rights activist?” I gasped.
“Washerman isn’t a normal activist,” Officer Howard answered, “he’s done more then merely protest against animal cruelty and the protection of endangered species. He’s essentially gone off the deep end when it comes to this stuff, and has a fairly long history of odd behavior in that regard.”
Officer Barnes paused in reading the papers to listen to the briefing.
“In 1991, he hurled tomatoes at an actress that was wearing a supposedly fur coat,” Officer Howard continued, “he claimed that “fur was murder” in that case and ended up paying a fine for mischief… and the cost of the jacket he ruined.”
Officer Howard then handed a printed out newspaper clipping to me. I held it so that Officer Barnes could look at it as well. It depicted three security guards carrying a guy away while a woman in a fur coat and with tomato stains on it. Looking at it, I could see that Horace Washerman had reddish brown hair and his skin seemed to hang on his face in a way that almost made him look skeletal in a way.
“In 2007 he paint balled one of the pumping stations on the Alaska Pipeline, bruising one of the workers and leaving them with a lot of cleaning to do,” Officer Howard continued.
“I think I remember something about that on the news,” Officer Barnes commented, “supposedly spray painted “Reindeer Haters” on one of the pipes as well.”
“Again he had to pay a fine and spent a year in jail for what was essentially sabotage,” Officer Howard nodded, “and he never really said why he did that.”
Officer Howard then sighed, “there is also the suspicion that he planted a banner at a John Morel Plant in Sioux Falls, South Dakota that said that “meat-packing is cruelty” over the front gates a few months ago. Though, no one has been able to prove it one way or the other.”
“I doubt he stayed still long enough for that,” Officer Barnes answered, “and he’s since come here.”
“And he’s targeting our ranchers,” I commented, “as if the ranching industry is cruel to animals for selling them to meat markets…”
“Given his past, that’d probably be the likely motive,” Officer Howard nodded, “Extremely odd…”
“He must have something against carnivores,” I quipped.
“Maybe,” Officer Howard answered, “after lunch, I want you two to check with the hotels, see if they’d give us any information on their guests. Hopefully he hasn’t left town… or interacted with someone that we’d be able to learn where he went.”
Officer Barnes and I nodded.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
The search for Horace Washerman was not successful. Some did give us photocopies of their sign-in lists, but there was no Horace Washerman among the signatures. Officer Barnes and I then showed them a copy of the photograph of Washerman being carried away from the actress he’d thrown tomatoes at to the main desk clerk there. It was mostly in case Washerman signed with an alias, since some of what he had done seemed so odd and off the wall. No one could remember seeing anyone that looked like that.
Most of the hotels refused to give their sign-in lists on the basis of customer privacy, and wouldn’t surrender them unless we produced a search warrant. It was a frustrating thing, as we had no reason to search a hotel for its list of people who had signed in. The hotel committed no crime and we had no way of knowing whether or not Washerman had stayed in that particular hotel. We were largely trying to find out if he had come there.
“The guy is mentally unstable with a reputation rather dramatic actions,” Officer Barnes protested, “we’re not going to go from room to room bothering your customers. We’re merely looking to see if Horace Washerman had come here!”
“And what dramatic action has he done?” the desk clerk answered, “has he killed someone? Has he threatened to launch an all out rebellion against the government? Has he pulled something like what those Pit Bull people did that you got out of one of the other hotels?”
“That manager cooperated with us,” I grumbled, slightly louder then I intended.
“Yeah, but those Pit Bulls wrecked the room they were in and generally caused trouble,” the manager we were presently talking too replied, not knowing that I was referring to the present investigation.
“You don’t even need to show us the list,” Officer Barnes pleaded, “Just tell us if a Horace Washerman signed in and took a room with you…” he then took out the photograph of Washerman again, “… or if you’d seen this man come in.”
“I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone who looked like that, but I’m not sure,” the desk clerk answered.
“And what dramatic action has this man done?” the manager asked back from behind the desk clerk.
“He vandalized a rancher’s fence and made off with the cattle that were in the pasture,” Officer Barnes answered, “the cattle were released into the wild and one was killed by a Grizzly that lived in the area.”
“So you’re asking us to betray our customer’s privacy for a petty thief and vandal?” the manager asked.
“There is nothing petty about him,” Officer Barnes told them.
“I’m afraid that without a warrant we will not divulge the names of our customers,” the manager answered.
I gave a slow sigh and then lead Officer Barnes out of the hotel. He clearly looked frustrated. I was frustrated too, but there was nothing that could be done for the moment. We would have to just turn to the people and ask them if they’d seen Washerman or any odd action.