The Damocles Solution Chapter 9.
"Heeeeey, this is Dr. Peter Venkman," said the psychologist in the sweetest tone he can muster. "I'm calling the court this afternoon because…well…hey. I am a pretty professional guy, and I want to make sure I'm calling the right people. Recently I had been so graciously flattered by the court when its reperesentative delivered a few documents to my office about appearing in court. 'Kay? Does this sound familiar?"
He listened for a moment. "Oh gooooood, then I have the right number. Say, I am going to have to inform the court of an itty-bitty-teeny-weeny problem with their scheduling." With every amount of rage he can muster, he yelled into the phone, getting up in his seat in anger, then wincing. He was still feeling the burn in his hip from the bust the day before. "MY PROBLEM (yowch!) IS THAT I'M NOT FIFTY DIFFERENT PEOPLE TO ATTEND ALL THESE DAMNED COURT APPOINTMENTS!"
Pointing his finger at the phone, he continued. "So how 'bout you call your people and tell 'em ta CANCEL some of these appointments for me, and if not, then send me new summons in the names of my VERY CAPABLE ASSOCIATES. GOT THAT?"
Winston raised an eyebrow. "Peter, they can't see you pointing like that."
Peter shot Winston a scowl. He glared back at the phone. "Venkman. VEE-EE-ENN-KAY-EMM-AYY-ENN!" He threw his hands in the air. "No! For God's sake, there is NO 'I' IN MY NAME! Are you seriously the only one in Manhattan who hasn't heard of me! And I've tried to get through to this office for an eternity already, and I want to add that this is the first time I've had a chance to call your office about this, because I was at one such inconvenient hearing today after another! So, do you people take a three hour lunch break or something? Is this where my tax dollars are going?"
The door opened, and Ray happily strolled in and waved. Winston took notice of Ray's pleasant mood, and was relieved that his aunt seemed to have pulled through. After grabbing the limited edition yo-yo they had scored for Ray at the factory, he ran over to him, hiding the prize behind his back.
"Have a good trip, my man?"
"Oh, you bet! My aunt wasn't able to attend the parade, turned out she was getting over a horrible flu. So she took the opportunity to record it all on tape while I went. The mayor wasn't even there this year, he has the same exact thing!" Entering the firehouse with Winston's strong arm wrapped around him for a few steps, he caught sight of Peter trying to deliberate with the court over the phone.
"Well, you make SURE you make some kinda note-thingy, that I made this call. Because lemme tell ya buddy! ME, my TAX DOLLARS, and my booming business are all gonna move to Tahiti if you don't start the process of handling some of these subpoenas! And NOW!" he slammed Janine's phone down so hard the receiver clanged all through the garage.
"Did…did I get back here at a bad time?" Ray asked Winston quietly.
"Yeah, but we're workin' on the same bad time that didn't stop since that shopping cart was pushed in here." He brought the yo-yo around his back to present to Ray. "Got this fer ya."
"Oh, WOW!" said Ray eagerly as he took the yo-yo in his hands. "A limited Platinum edition one, too! Where did ya get this?" he asked, amazed.
"Eh, a lil' side job we did while you were gone."
"And Ray," added Peter, "you better practice every day. My hip sacrificed its blissful non-painful status to get you that thing."
Ray whistled at the yo-yo. "Aw sheesh, Peter. Look at this! I really don't want to take it out. There must be only about 50 of these in existence. I'd be ruining a rare item if I did that!"
Peter's face went red with rage, and he balled his hands into fists. He put his head on the desk, and then, only staggared stacatto sounds made it out to express his frustration.
The phone rang again, and Peter was ready this time. "VEE-EEE-ENN-KAY-EMM-AYY-ENN!" he yelled into it. "Do you people have chimpanzees at the keyboard or something!" He paused, his face turning from red to white. "Oh, my sinceeeeeere apologies. This is ProbeCorp? Well," he said, adjusting his tie and innocently running his hand through his hair. "You know how it happens with these crazy telemarketers that want to call someone else and they call you, we had 'em all day!" His tone became somber. "I hate to inform your business that the Ghostbusters have moved their operations to Tahiti. Oooooooh, yes. That's exactly right. Just today in fact! We—"
Winston ran around to Janine's desk. "Hold it right there, flyboy!" he said firmly, grabbing the phone out of Peter's hand. "Hi, this is Winston Zeddemore. Might you be calling to give further information about your case?" He angled Janine's notepad towards himself, and began writing. "In operations for ten years. Then changed hands due to financial issues. Mr. Derrick, 1979, then Mr. Greenshaw, 197,." He said, finishing up the notes. "Okay. We'll add this to your file. Oh, some of this was on the earlier paperwork we had? Okay. That's much appreciated. No, I personally don't have any theories right now, two of our men were unavailable yesterday and today. We that were left we had to do another bust yesterday, and then there were—" the tall dark man eyed Peter sternly from the bridge of his nose, making Peter hold up his hands in mock innocence, "-legal complications to be straightened out…but when I review our secretary's notes I will make sure we are right there when we have a good lead on how to handle this." He could have sworn he saw Peter start, but figuring he's been twice as touchy lately, he'd let it slide.
He stopped writing to nod into the air graciously. "Yessir. Ayup. We'll be in touch. Goodbye."
Ray asked curiously while he stopped unpacking to play with Slimer, who had greeted him warmly on seeing him in the doorway, "More info from ProbeCorp?"
Winston nodded, and chased Peter away from the desk. He began riffling through her file drawer. "Yep. All we gotta do is write these on Janine's notes and we're good to go. I'd like to review those notes anyway, maybe we can think a' somethin'."
"Good idea," said Ray.
Peter looked away and began whistling.
Winston brought out the "active cases" folder, and flipped through it. "Lessee… that restaurant in the Bronx…Ninth Avenue…Hazleton, Pennsylvania?" He scratched his head. "Man, that one's in the middle of nowhere."
Ray nodded. "Well, ya know what they say about Pennsylvania: there's Philly, and Pittsburgh, and Kentucky in the middle."
Peter stopped whistling for a moment to interject. "Ray, stop insulting Kentucky like that." He added quietly, "Now, Pennylvania? I can't help Pennsylvania's case very much."
Winston continued on. "Well, before we go back there, we gotta get some extra pothole insurance on Ecto-1." He shivered. "Nasty potholes out that way. Anyway. Museum of Natural History… South Street…Hmmm. I'm not seein' ProbeCorp in here." He turned to Slimer, figuring he was taking a shot in the dark asking him anything. "Slimer, there wasn't anybody foolin' around with these files, was there?"
Slimer nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! Uh-huh!"
Winston narrowed his eyes. "Oh? Really, Slimer?"
Peter's face flared red. He positively looked like he was ready to explode. "I'm gonna kill 'im! I'm gonna blast 'im, then trap 'im, then KILL 'IM! In that order!"
Slimer slapped his little hands in front of his gigantic mouth, spraying droplets of ectoplasm on the furniture and the floor.
Considering Slimer's naïve exposure of guilt, and Peter's fury, Winston rose to his full tall height, pointing a finger accusingly at Peter. "Ah-hah! I think I got it. It was Peter, in the kitchen, with my brand new bottle of chocolate sauce! Wasn't sure who would eat three-quarters of a brand new bottle of chocolate sauce except Slimer, but that's been in there for a week and he hadn't touched it!" He put his hands on his hips and leaned forward. "Until now. You took that file outta her desk, covered it in my chocolate sauce, and fed it to Slimer!"
Peter crossed his arms defiantly. He had been officially busted. "And I shoulda fed it to the containment unit. At least the ghosts in there know how to keep their mouths shut!"
Ray waved a finger at Slimer. "Now Slimer, take that as a lesson. When Peter wants to bribe you with food, it's never gonna be his own, so you better say no."
Slimer's shoulders fell. "Oooooookaaaaay Raaaaaaaaay."
Ray patted him on the head. "Well, I'd say we try and go on what we know. I think considering where Janine is it'll just be unecessary to bug her unless we would have no choice or this turns out to be a demigod in sheep's clothing…which at this point I doubt. We'll head out there tomorrow—" he had to stop because of an exasperated groan from Peter, "—and we'll try to piece this together, all over again."
Winston and Ray shot Peter one last angry look. Following suit, so did Slimer.
