Troublemaker

[Author’s Note: This story was actually published, in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine in May 2002. For some reason, I like stories where people get away with outrageous actions.
As usual, ignore all the embedded links: they go to ads.]

Carl woke at dawn, stretched, and turned off his radio-jamming machine. It was his own invention. All through the night, it transmitted a powerful signal of static that made radio communication impossible for miles around. It was really quite clever, actively seeking real radio sources to tune in and block. No one could trace it to Carl’s apartment, either.

When Carl’s neighbors complained about the strange static that interfered with their radio listening, he would nod and claim that it bothered him, too. Then he would suggest that it might be a government project of some kind. That usually ended the conversation.

He dressed and left his building. He had a busy day planned today. His first stop was the market on the corner.

The shopkeeper smiled at Carl, and he smiled back at her. He was the kind of customer she liked. Always well dressed. Plenty of money for even the most expensive items. Didn’t bother her for help finding anything. And never complained about shortages.

As Carl perused the shelves, he didn’t notice any shortages at first. Ah, butter. There were only two packages left. He took them both. And only one box of a popular cereal. He took that, too.

He paid for his purchases and chatted about the weather while the shopkeeper wrapped everything neatly for him. He thanked her and they exchanged smiles again before he left. He walked around the corner and threw everything away.

He checked his watch. Plenty of time to stop by the coffee shop. He was pleased to notice a large truck parked outside. He glanced into the back of the truck, gave a minute nod, and entered the shop.

He smiled at the waitress and ordered a strudel to take with him. The waitress liked Carl, also. He always took his pastry away, so there was nothing to clean up. And he even gave her a small gratuity, just as if he ate it there.

“Best strudel in town,” Carl told the truck driver drinking coffee at the counter. “You must try it.” And Carl bought the truck driver a strudel. The truck driver thanked him. Carl smiled at him, thanked the waitress, and left the shop.

That should delay him a bit longer, thought Carl. He walked to the front of the truck, out of sight of the shop, and opened the hood. He made an adjustment that took only seconds and closed the hood again. The truck would run for a while, then break down. It would be a puzzling problem for a mechanic to fix. Carl dropped the strudel into a trash bin. He hated strudel.

He was whistling as he mounted the steps to the large government building. Few people were at work this early. At the small stand, he bought a flower. The old woman who ran the stand liked this young man. So handsome. So well-mannered. And not many stopped to buy flowers these days. She arranged the blossom in his buttonhole. He thanked her with a smile and walked to the stairs.

Carl didn’t work in the building. Carl didn’t really have a job, not really. While most of the many workers in the large government building walked up the stairs, Carl walked down them to the basement.

He passed down a long corridor and opened a door at the far end. It was noisy inside from all the machinery. No one was there.

Carl found the main electrical junction box, then followed the large power cables that led from the outside. He found a place where they were scarcely visible, hidden in the shadows near the ceiling. He pulled a crate over so he could stand and reach the cables.

From his pocket, he took a small bottle of acid. He unscrewed it carefully, and used the dropper inside to drip the caustic liquid onto one of the main power cables. The acid hissed as it chewed through the insulation and the metal within. Carl stopped when there was just a slender whisker of wire remaining.

When everyone was at work later in the day, they would use a lot of electricity. This would heat up the wire and it would snap. All the power to the large government building would be lost. When they investigated the cause, they would find a badly corroded power cable.

He got down from the crate, and carefully poured the rest of the bottle of acid along the top of one of the furnaces. No doubt, it would have its effect one day.

Carl left by the rear entrance. He had to walk quickly to reach the train station on time. He bought his ticket for the train on track 6. Another train was preparing to leave on track 2.

Carl studied the posters of wanted criminals that were displayed on the wall of the train station. Then he went to a public telephone, put in a coin, and called the police station. He described one of the wanted criminals in great detail, and said that he had just seen the man board the train on track 2.

He waited a few minutes. While he waited, he dropped something into the coin slot of the public telephone. It looked like a coin, but was actually another of Carl’s little inventions. Once inside the telephone, it would pop open with a coiled spring, piercing parts of the mechanism. The telephone would not work again.

Carl boarded his train. As it left the station, he noted with satisfaction that the police had arrived, had stopped the train on track 2, and were beginning to search it. It was a long train.

His train trip was very enjoyable. He hardly ever got to leave the city these days. The countryside was lovely this time of year.

It took well over an hour to reach the little station. Before he left the train, he placed a small stink bomb on the underside of his seat. It would go off in about twenty minutes, rendering that car of the train unusable.

On the platform of the little station, he bought his return ticket and mailed the letter in his pocket. The letter appeared to come from the exclusive military school for boys located in the same town as the station. However, Carl had written the letter himself. It was addressed to the parents of a boy at the school, and told how his poor grades and questionable behavior made it necessary to consider his expulsion. It set a date and time for the parents to visit the school and meet with the headmaster.

Carl’s train arrived on time and he returned to the city. He spent the rest of the afternoon visiting several tall buildings. On the roof of each building were powerful searchlights that would play about the sky at night. He scattered packages of bird seed around and on the large lights. Soon birds would come to eat the seed and foul the searchlights with their droppings.

When it was dinnertime, he was hungry after his long day. He chose a busy restaurant that was popular with servicemen on leave because it was cheap and the food came fast. He ate a full dinner, including the soup. Before he left, he broke a small glass vial in the coatroom. The vial contained a concentrated strain of influenza. Within days, many of the customers of the restaurant would be sick.

Back at his apartment, Carl read for a while, then prepared for bed. He gazed out his window for a long time. He had an excellent view of the building across the street, swathed in the blood-red banner with the black swastika.

He thought for a few moments about his day. Food shortages. Vital aircraft parts delayed. An entire ministry plunged into darkness and inactivity. Their precious train schedules thrown off. Another public telephone out of service. An important colonel called home. Anti-aircraft searchlights blinded. Soldiers spreading sickness among their units.

He smelled the small flower he had left on his dresser. It had been a good day. He yawned, turned on his radio jammer, and went to bed.