The Kraftsman Killer

Detective Roebuck investigates three murders connected by the use Kraftsman Tools. Is Bob Villa or Tim Taylor behind it? Find out.

The Kraftsman Killer

 

      There was a flash of silver in the dim street light.  The garage was otherwise dark.  The silence was broken by a last gasp of life and a scream that barely escaped his lips.  Footsteps echoed.  Then utter silence.

      Early the next morning a pretty young woman walked through her house.  She opened the door to the garage and let out a scream, which she muffled when she covered her own mouth in horror.  Shaking and trembling, she could not take her eyes from the body of her dead husband.  A screwdriver had been driven into his neck, but surprisingly there wasn’t much blood. 

      A short time later, sirens filled the air and the peaceful neighborhood became chaotic.  Spectators gathered as the body was zipped up in a body bag and hauled away. 

      Detective Roebuck arrived on the scene and took the crying widow.  “Look, I know this tough, but I need to tell me all you can.”

      “Who are you?” the woman asked.

      “Detective Roebuck, but most just call me Buck.”

      “Jill Kaufmann,” the woman said.

      “Okay, Mrs. Kaufmann, tell me what happened.”

      Trying to hold back her tears, she repeated the story that she’d already told the police.  “My husband, Karl Kaufmann, got up late last night. He heard a noise downstairs and went to check it out.  I fell back to sleep and didn’t realize he’d never returned.  When I got up this morning, I went to look for him in the garage.  I opened up the garage door and there he was….I couldn’t believe it.  It seemed so unreal.”

      “What kind of noise?”

      “Huh?”

      “What kind of noise did your husband hear last night?”

      “I don’t know.  I thought it must have been a cat or raccoon or something.  No big deal.”

      “Why would he bother to get up to see if the noise was a stray cat?”

      “I don’t know what my husband thought.  Maybe he was paranoid it was an intruder or something.  I just know that he’d dead now…”

      “Anything else?” I mean was there anybody who wished your husband harm? A co-worker? A friend? An ex?

      “No, not that I know of.  He seemed a little preoccupied lately is all.  That is it.  He never said why or what was bothering him.  Can I go now?” she asked trembling.

      “Sure, but if you think of anything else�"anything at all�"please call.  Here’s my card.”

      She took it and shoved it in a pocket of her robe.  Disoriented, she turned and walked away.  Roebuck watched her knowing there was more going on than met the eye.  Why a screwdriver he wondered? A Kraftsman Tool too.  At least he used the best.  It had to be personal he thought.  Of course a robber could have been caught in the act of robbing the Kaufmann’s and he used the handiest thing available to kill Mr. Kaufmann in order to escape.  Roebuck glanced at the chalk outline and the police tape.  It occurred to him that Karl had fallen forward, so he was stabbed from the back.  Did the killer hide in the shadows waiting or was there an argument and a struggle?

      Detective Roebuck filled out the usual paperwork and continued to question more people.  Everyone seemed to like Karl Kaufmann.  The only thing mentioned was that Karl had been concerned by the competition, but that was it.  Roebuck made a note to investigate the competition further before leaving the scene. 

     Roebuck was soon called to another crime scene, so he hopped in his car and took off.  He arrived at the address given to him and parked in the parking garage.  He made his way past all of the police cars and on-lookers to see a once distinguished middle-aged mad lying face down on the cement.  Oddly, there was no blood.  The Sheriff spotted Detective Roebuck and approached him.  He held up a wrench in a plastic evidence bag.  The man had been hit�"not once, but twice�"over the head.  Roebuck took a closer look at the wrench and confirmed his suspicion.  The wrench was a Kraftsman half-inch.  Roebuck nodded and told the Sheriff that there was a connection between the man in the garage of a private residence that morning and the man in the public parking garage.

     “How’s that?” Sheriff Dennis asked.

     “Both Karl and…”

     “Dan Dillard,” he informed him.

     “Yes, both Karl and Dan were killed with Kraftsman tools.”

     Sheriff Dennis laughed, “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.  Why would someone go around killing people with tools?”

     “I dunno, but it appears as if somebody is doing just that.”

     “You’re gonna need more than a brand-name to convince me there is a connection between the two murders.”

     “I am sure there is more of a connection than that and I intend to prove it.”

     After asking the parking garage attendant and some commuters who discovered the body, Detective Roebuck found out that Dan Dillard was the heir to the famous Dillard’s Department Store, as Karl Kauffmann was heir to the Kaufmann’s Department store.  These men knew each other, but were not friends and not enemies.  They had had a meeting a few days previous to their separate murders. 

      Detective Roebuck made his way to Mrs. Dillard’s office.  Everyone in the office was buzzing with the news of Mr. Dillard’s death.  Mrs. Dillard had been called down to the scene of the accident, so Roebuck took the liberty of asking a receptionist if he could search Mr. Dillard’s office.  The woman, unsure of standard protocol in such matters, gave him full access to the office.  He sorted through a ton of typical papers before he came upon a single slip of paper with the phone number 555-0621 scribbled on it.  He slid the paper into his pocket and slipped away before anyone else came.

     Once back in his own office, Detective Roebuck sat town with a turkey club sandwich and began to process the events of the day.  Karl Kauffmann and Dan Dillard were killed in cold blood.  Why? The Kraftsman Tools appeared to be a calling card.  Did this mean Sears was trying to kill off the competition? Would JC Penny and Lazarus be next? If so, who exactly wanted them dead?  A radical activist? A disgruntled employee? Some sadistic customer with a bad sense of humor?  This was like looking for a needle in a haystack.  It could be anyone Detective Roebuck concluded.

     A knock sounded at the door and then the door creaked opened before the good Detective could answer it.  A beautiful woman stepped out of the shadows.  Her long raven colored hair framed her soft face.  “Beverly,” Buck sighed.  She was one hot dame, but dangerous.

     “So Buck, what have you been up to?”

       “Cut to the chase Beverly.  What do you want?”

       “You’ve been working too hard lately,” she said coming towards him. She sat on his desk and leaned in toward the handsome detective. 

       “Why wouldn’t I be working hard? Lives are at stake.”

       “What about your life?  All work and no play makes Buck a very dull boy,” she smiled coyly.  Her lips descended upon his in a sizzling kiss.  He let himself melt into her warmth, but then managed to finally pull himself away. Three was a long silence.

      “Tell me what you know about department stores?” Buck finally asked.

      “Middle class shopping,” Beverly shrugged. 

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well, they aren’t discount outlets exactly and they aren’t expensive boutiques either.  Mostly Middle Class people come in looking for clothes.  They want to feel fashionable without paying hundreds of dollars.”

      “Don’t suppose you know anything about Kraftsman Tools?”

      “Uh-Uh,” she shook her head as she moved off his desk and to the table in the corner.  She poured herself a shot of bourbon.  “Why do you ask?”

       “My case.  Karl Kauffmann and Dan Dillard have been murdered�"both with a Kraftsman tool.”

       “Sounds like someone wanted to clobber the competition,” she said sitting back down on the edge of his desk.  “Either that or it is a cover for something much larger and much more insidious.”

       “You may be onto something.”

       “People are always hiding something�"in my experience at least.  Governments, businesses, monopolies, Hollywood and me for example.”

       “So now we get down to the real reason for your visit.”

       “I need an alibi.”

       “What for?”

       “Just tell them you saw me going to a doctor’s appointment in your building yesterday afternoon.”

       “Sure, but who’s gonna call me about it? A jealous boyfriend perhaps? The police?”

       “No one may ever bother to ask you, but it could be anyone,” she said finishing her drink.  She set the glass down and ran her hand through her long beautiful hair.  Needless to say, Buck took advantage the fact a gorgeous dame was in his office.  She didn’t mind that he had a weakness for sexy women.

 

        The third murder was in a store.  JC Penny to be exact.  Mrs. Penny had been electrocuted instead of bludgeoned though.  It appeared as if she’d simply gone to plug in an unplugged display and gotten it.  Glancing at the scene, he wondered why Mrs. Penny was even in the store. 

       “Dennis, why am I even here?” Buck asked as he looked around.

       “Not so fast,” he said moving closer to the scene.  “I didn’t think it had anything to do with the others either, but then I saw this…”  He held up a Kraftsman drill and a tool I did not recognize.  “Apparently, our killer got more creative this time around.  He used the tools to create a short circuit and arrange for Mrs. Penny here to be electrocuted.”

        Buck sighed, “This is getting very interesting to say the least.”

       “Still no idea who our killer is then?”

       “Not really.  Everyone knows nothing and I’m not sure where to look next.”

       “May I suggest the expert?”

       Buck was about to ask who, when a deputy came over and began talking to the Sherriff.  Buck was left to ponder who the expert was on his own as the two men discussed some details about the crime scene. Standing there, he realized that the expert was obvious.  Bob Villa had often featured Kraftsman Tools on his long running PBS show.  He was like a spokesman for the company or something. 

       After taking care of some more business, Buck left JC Penny to find Bob Villa.  Mr. Villa happened to be preparing for the next taping of his show when Buck located him. 

      “Bob Villa?” Buck asked as he approached the middle-aged man who’d become a blue-color icon. 

       The bearded fellow in flannel looked up from the wood he was fitting together for the old floor he was replacing in someone’s home that day. “Yes.”

       “Detective Roebuck,” Buck said showing him his badge.  “I’d like to ask you some questions.”

        He seemed puzzled, but more than that, he acted just plain annoyed.  “What can I do for you?” he asked, feigning some sense of politeness.

       “I am investigating three murders that are connected by a single thread.  They were all killed in some way or another with Kraftsman Tools.  I thought you might have some insight into why the killer chose Kraftsman and who would do such a thing.”

       “I don’t know,” he said nervously.

       Was it Bob Villa himself?  He was certainly acting suspicious.

       “That is odd, but I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.  I am sure whoever did it has more than a few screws loose if you know what I mean.”

       “Yeah.  Is there anyone that is in direct competition with Kraftsman?  Is there any other tool companies that might hold a grunge against Kraftsman?”

       “Binford is the only other major tool company around that provides Kraftsman with any sort of competition. Cub Cadet has fine lawn machines.  Sears, Parts America and Napa all sell tools.  Some car dealerships use Binford and others prefer Kraftsman.  It just depends on the location and preference of the mechanics.”

       “What about JC Penny, Kaufmanns and Dillards?”

       “Nope.  They all sell clothing and accessories.”

       “Strange.”  Buck thought for a moment.  The killer suddenly didn’t have a clear motive.  “Can you give me any names or phone numbers of people who might have some insight into the reason our killer used Kraftsman Tools instead of anything else?”

       “Call Sears or call Kraftsman directly.  You might also talk to the people at Binford.  Tim Taylor has a show too you know.”

        Buck jotted all the information down and said, “Thanks for you help.  If you can think of anything else, call me.”  Buck handed him a card and turned to leave.  As Bob got involved in the job he was doing, Buck decided to hang around a bit longer.  Buck overheard Bob talking about having some sort of bone to pick with Tim Taylor.  Buck left wondering what had caused the tension between Bob and Tim and wondering if it was enough to murder someone over. 

Tim Taylor was preparing to tape his show as well when Detective Roebuck showed up

       “Tim Taylor, I’m Detective Roebuck,” Buck said showing his badge.

      “Hello Detective Roebuck.  Is there anything I can do to help you” Tim asked nervously.  Buck wasn’t sure who was more suspicious, Bob or Tim. 

      “Hopefully you can help me.  There have been three murders in the past few days, all connected by Kraftsman Tools.  It seems as if someone is trying to get rid of the competition.  I was told you might have some idea who it could be.”

      “No.  I had no idea anyone had been murdered.  That’s awful.”

      “Has there been any conflict between Kraftsman and Binford?”

      “Well…”

      “Would you say the conflict has been a little or a lot??”

      “Some, but it is all in good fun you know.”

      “How do you mean?”

      “Bob and I have made a habit out of making fun of each other.  That is just how we show our mutual affection for one another.
      “So you don’t wish him any harm?”

      “No, of course not.  I would never hurt anyone…Well, except myself,” Tim laughed.

      Buck smiled as he recalled watching the show and seeing Tim drop a 4X4 on his toe, among many other similar accidents.  Tim had a knack for being clumsy and prone to often humorous mishaps. 

      Al passed by.  “He admits it! He knows nothing!”

      I smiled at Al’s teasing and handed Tim my card.  “Well, if you think of anything, give me a call.  Okay?”

      “Sure,” he said taking the card.  Then Tim slipped into his make-up chair to prepare for that day’s taping.  Buck hung around a while before heading out the door.

       As Buck was heading home, Al stopped him at the back door.  “I think I can help you.”

      “Oh really?” Buck said arching his eyebrows skeptically.

      Al seemed deeply troubled. “Tim’s been getting these letters�"very troubling letters.”

      “Threats on his life?”

      “No, to Sears.”

      “Why didn’t Tim tell me this?”

      “Because he hasn’t exactly read the letters….Long story. Anyway, there is a good chance that this disturbed fan writing the letters is your man.”  Al took the letters from his pocket and handed the envelope over to Buck.  “Keep them.  I gotta go. Bye!”  And with that Al took off to prepare for the next segment. 

       Buck drove to his office in silence, trying to piece together the clues.  An obsessed fan could have very easily went over the edge and murdered people he thought were Tim’s competition.  He might have been trying to frame Bob Villa by leaving the calling card Kraftsman Tools.  The only motive that made sense was that the obsessed fan was trying to win favor with Tim Taylor by getting rid those he misperceived as threats to the object of his obsession.  The crude styles of the first two murders fit the profile.  If he was smart enough and creative enough to electrocute Mrs. Penny in the way he did, the fan might be smarter than he was letting on.  The question that bothered Buck the most was why hadn’t the killer gone after the head of Sears or Binford either one? Perhaps they were next.

       Once back at the office, Buck read the letters Al had given him.  The letters were a bit disturbing, so Buck decided to pay a visit to the person at the return address.  Evan Klein was his name and he lived in Nova, Michigan.  It was a ways away, but Buck decided he was up for some traveling. By 10:30am the next day, Buck arrived at Evan’s door.  He rapped and waited, but there was no answer.  He waited a few minutes and then knocked harder. 

       Finally, the door opened and a thirty-something balding man stood before Buck, looking more a little tired and very much perturbed.  “What in the hell do you want?”

      “Just to ask you a few questions, sir,” Buck said showing him his badge.  “Detective Roebuck.”

      He opened the door all the way and walked back inside.  Buck followed.  Evan sat down in a torn recliner and lit up a cigarette.  Buck remained standing.  “What’s this about?”

      “A letter you sent to Tim Taylor.”

      “Tim Taylor?”

      “Yep. You told him you would do anything for him.  Did you mean it?”

      “What are you? The promise police?”

      “Funny.  No.  I am investigating three murders that are all connected by the usage of Kraftsman Tools.  The letter you sent Tim makes you a suspect.”

      “Since when does sending a fan letter qualify as a crime?”

      “It isn’t, but the letter is extreme.  You threatened Sears and you sounded obsessed.”

      “I am not obsessive! Sit down.  You’re standing there fidgeting is driving me crazy!”

      Buck sat down silently.

      “You have no proof of anything.  Unless you have a warrant, then I suggest that you leave.”

      “Fine,” Buck said standing up. Detective Roebuck felt like he had all the proof he needed, so he saw no sense in staying any longer.  The man was clearly crazy.

      “You can see yourself out, you nosey son of a b***h,” Evan screamed.

      Buck noticed a newspaper with Bob Villa’s name circled in red ink on the end table.  The ad was for some sort of Golf Cart Race or something that both Bob Villa and Tim Taylor were competing in.  Driving home, Buck decided that he’d catch Evan in the act of trying to sabotage things at the race.  He knew that Even would make some sort of move then and it would be the perfect time to get the proof he needed to put Evan behind bars for a long time.

 

   

      That Saturday, Buck sat on the sidelines of the Golf Cart Races.  It was a beautiful sunny afternoon.  After observing from his seat, Buck began walking around.  Bob Villa and Tim Taylor were making fools out of themselves as usual.  They made were making an appearance on a local television show for charity.  The Country Club sponsored their race for publicity mostly, but the proceeds of the entrance fees were all donated to charity.  

     Bob was in the bathroom cleaning up and getting ready to go home for the day when Evan appeared.  Buck saw the whole thing from his stall.  Evan was wearing a plumber’s outfit and checking the stalls for possible witnesses.  Buck pulled up his feet and prayed that Evan didn’t swing open the stall door.  Evan didn’t bother to do more than glance under the door, which Buck was thankful for.  When Evan thought the coast was clear, he pulled out a ratchet and hit Bob over the head with it.  Evan drug Bob into the large stall in the back as Buck clamored down from the toilet seat he was standing on.

     “Freeze!” Buck cried pulling his gun on Evan.

     Evan stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at Buck.  Realizing he’d been caught, Evan made a last ditch effort to escape.  He dropped Bob on the floor and pushed passed Detective Roebuck.  Before Buck could react, Evan had dashed out of the bathroom door and ran down a set of stairs to the golf green below.  Buck pursued him, watching as Evan hopped into one of the supped-up Golf Carts and sped away.  Buck hopped into another Golf Cart and took off after Evan.  Evan got careless as he zipped around corners and over hills.  It wasn’t long before he took a corner too fast and tipped over.  Buck stopped in front of him and hopped out to arrest Evan.  Evan stumbled away from the Golf Cart dazed and confused, but otherwise unhurt.  Buck pulled his gun and told Evan he was under arrest.  “You have the right to remain silent,” Buck began as the sirens of more police cars sounded in the distance.

 

       Evan Klein was sentenced to life in prison.  The newspapers printed a wonderful alliteration for their headlines after his trial.  “Klein is Kraftsman Killer.” 

       Bob and Tim were so thankful that they invited Detective Roebuck onto both of their shows.  It was then Buck had his own fifteen minutes of fame.  

       When the excitement had died down, Buck relieved a phone call that he’d been warned about.  Reluctantly, he picked up the receiver and said, “Hello.”

       “Hi Buck,” a male voice said.  “Tell me, have you seen Beverly around at all?”

       “No…Oh, wait; I did see her Monday on her way to some sort of doctor’s appointment.”

       “What time?”

       “Afternoon, I believe.”

       “Thanks, Bye,” he said hanging up.  Detective Roebuck put the receiver in its cradle pondering how he could have Beverly repay him for helping her out.