Eddington Mug Shot

The pain was starting to subside, and I was beginning to see again. I didn’t really think my eyesight was ok at the time, because of what I saw. Which was my eighty plus year old Grandfather hitting the guy that had my gun in the back of the head. “Tomáš, are you okay?”
“What did you hit him with Otecko?” I only knew a few words from what had been Czechoslovakia, and was now the two countries of the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Otecko, or Papa, as we called Grandfather, had family on both sides.
“I hit him with a good strong ceramic mug. The kind my brilliant vnúča said we should replace with non breakable ones.” He padded my shoulder, and smiled wide.  
Otecko still seemed as healthy and as vibrant as I had always remembered. His hair was white now, but otherwise he was as sharp as ever. He reminded me a little of Edward G Robinson. Otecko loved old movies, and I had inherited it.
We decided it was time to examine the guy on the floor. Otecko had picked up his gun while I was standing up. The guy was tall, scary, and ugly for that matter. “Did you expect George Clooney?”  
Otecko loved sarcasm, I think he counted it as part of his heritage. I remembered seeing the unconscious man the night last week when it had all started. We were trying to determine who he was when Joe and the police walked in.
That’s my cousin, Uncle Adam’s son, Detective Joe Stefaniak. “Otecko, Tom, what’s going on?” “He attacked me. One minute I’m in the storage room, the next minute he threw coffee in my face.”
Joe cuffed the guy, who was still out cold. “Why?” “I don’t know, robbery doesn’t make sense. If that wasn’t it, why attack me?” “That wasn’t what I meant Tom. I meant, why didn’t he just shoot you. I see the gun in Otecko’s hand.”
My look must have indicated what I was thinking, because Joe answered without me asking. “Simple, Otecko’s holding a gun now, but the guy’s out cold. If either of you had the gun, he’d either be subdued, bleeding, or dead.”
“Let me see the gun. Isn’t that your glock Tom?” “Yeah, he must have taken it from my office.” “Don’t you keep it locked up?” “Yes, he must have broke in the desk.”  
“Something’s bad wrong here Tom. If he came to attack you, why didn’t he bring his own gun? An if he went to the trouble of getting your gun, why not shoot you?”
I saw where he was going. “So he must have been looking for something besides my gun in the office. The only thing is, there’s nothing important in my desk. What could he have been looking for?”
Joe and I just stood there, I was watching the man. Joe was watching something, or someone else. Otecko didn’t say a word, but left silently through the door to the kitchen.  
I looked at Joe, he nodded, and we followed. He was sitting at the counter when we walked in. “He will not find it. They will try again.” I was scared. “Who Otecko?” He gave me a sad, weak smile. “The enemies of freedom my vnúčas, always the enemies of freedom.”

Tune in next week’s Eddington to find out what Otecko knows.

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