Adora was spending the day helping her mother and sister at their travel agency. Todo el Mundo was suffering along with the rest of us, as people simply didn’t have the extra cash to take that trip to Ohio to visit Aunt Martha. Only the rich floated above the financial waters during this fateful year of 1930. Hang on to your hat, Denning, I told myself—and call upon those money angels who pour out the greenbacks from Nirvana or wherever they operate from.
As Benedict Royce had promised, a huge black limousine drove up in front of my joint on Franklin precisely at one o’clock. It hadn’t occurred to me that it might be a trap set by my old nemesis, the Oculus Pyramis Mandatum. But it was too late and I was packing my .38 close to my chest just in case.
We rode for about an hour and when the limo turned into a paved road with a couple of large pillars at the entrance, I knew I was in for a glance at the top of the heap in this old world. Soon we approached an imposing large estate, the kind with fifty rooms and eight fireplaces, manicured trees, shrubs and lawns and two flights of stairs leading up to the main entrance. The chauffeur let me out and indicated I should walk up the concrete steps to the entrance. I did so and used the brass knocker, which was in the shape of a dolphin. The usual stuffy Englishman greeted me with a perfunctory smile after looking me over. He must’ve thought I came from the costume department at a local movie lot. He led me to a large drawing room. From floor to ceiling, the damn place had more books filling its shelves than the downtown library. Soon another man entered and motioned me to follow him. We walked down another corridor until we stood at a huge white door engraved with a pair of golden dolphins. What was with this guy and the fish world, anyhow?
We entered, and standing in the middle of the room was a rather tall, slightly over-weight man with a mostly baldpate, only silver sideburns and not much else remained atop his head. His eyes were steel blue, his mouth pleasantly curved up in a welcoming smile. He was dressed immaculately. “I am indebted to you, Mr. Denning, for coming all the way out here to meet with me.” He came over and shook my hand. His grip was large and warm. “Please come over here to my sunlit window and sit with me.”
I walked with him and sat opposite the man on a large, over-stuffed chair. “Thank you. It’s good to meet you, Mr. Royce,” I said, looking out onto the vast grounds that surrounded the estate. “What do you call your place here, if I may ask?”
“Neptunia, named after the god Neptune. You know, sea and air and all. I’ve always been very fond of the oceans of the planet and the endless abundance that the salty waters of the earth seem to contain.” He snapped his fingers as a butler entered. “What would you like, Mr. Denning—I always imbibe around this time in the afternoon.”
“Well, truth be told, I’m an English gin drinker—but with Prohibition and all—”
“—say no more, Mr. Denning. We have the finest imported English gin—can’t beat the Juniper berries from the south of England, you know.”
“Yes, thank you. I’d—I’d, uh, settle for that just fine.”
He studied me. He glanced at the hat in my hand, my rumpled trench coat and scuffed brown shoes. “I can see you’re a man of the world, sir. Your business no doubt takes you to the less desirable ports of call in our fair city of Los Angeles, would you not say?”
“Yep, you got that right. Most of my work is weeding out errant husbands, wives, lovers and miscellaneous violators of our proper moral codes. So I snap Kodak photos of those who have trespassed, in compromising positions and show up in court with the evidence. It’s usually about money, Mr. Royce.”
He smiled quaintly. “Dear me, what people won’t do for—for—uh, emotional fulfillment, even at the risk—”
“—I think we can call it by its real name—good old sex someone isn’t getting at home. The restless heart is a dangerous weapon, I’ve discovered, Mr. Royce.”
“My, my…yes…so I’ve read. Sounds to me as if you’ve read a bit yourself? I’m an avid reader. Always have been.”
“If you mean have I read more than The Wizard of Oz, The Great Gatsby or Huckleberry Finn, the answer is yes. Even though I tend more toward non-fiction.”
“Ah, a man who likes fact, an admirable quality, indeed. Speaking of which, may we get down to the reason I requested this conference this afternoon?”
“By all means, Mr. Royce. I’m…I’m all ears…but first, I do have one question. You mentioned I come to you highly recommended. Your discretion permitting, I'd like to thank that person if you don’t—”
“—ah, but my discretion does not permit. Suffice it to say your credentials are experience and excellence in getting the job done. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay, on with it.”
“Oh, one more thing before I begin, Mr. Denning. Would you be kind enough to surrender your firearm to Henry, my butler, before we commence—knowing that such things are even present in my company makes me uneasy, if you please. And, if you would be more comfortable, feel free to take off your overcoat and give it along with your fedora to my man Henry, as well.”
I got up, took off my trench coat, fumbled for my .38 and handed them over to Henry. He bowed, thanked me and exited with my belongings. “Okay, Mr. Royce. Anything else before I relax with this fine drink of gin Henry just delivered?”
“Yes, there is one more item.” He reached into his breast pocket and took out a sea-green envelope. He offered it to me, so I got up and retrieved it from his hand. Then I sat back down. “Go ahead, open it, Mr. Denning. This is to show my earnest confidence in you.”
I opened the envelope. I thought some dough might be forthcoming, but when I took it out and counted seven one-hundred dollar bills, I was rather surprised, to say the least. “Are you sure you have that much confidence in me?”
“A crisp new hundred dollar bill for each of the seven seas of the world. And, as I said, you come highly recommended. May we proceed?”
“So, how may I be of assistance to you, Mr. Royce?”
“As I said, what I have to share with you is of a very confidential nature. Nothing I say must ever leave this room.”
“Confidence and truth are two big items on my list…”
“Excellent. So…here it is, Mr. Denning. I am a very, very wealthy man—most likely the richest man in all of Southern California. But money isn’t everything, and of late I fear for the safety of my two lovely daughters and my beloved wife, Mathilda.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But please continue…”
“My two daughters couldn’t be more different—as if they had different parents. My eldest daughter, Eden, went rather wayward in her teenage years. Now…she, uh, is well invested into business—but a business that does not carry my stamp of approval, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know what you mean. Would you care to be more explicit?”
“She runs a bordello in North Hollywood. It is one of the most exclusive and her clientele come from the very elite of our community—some of them married pillars of society.”
“So tell me something new, Mr. Royce. That story’s as old as the hills and twice as boring.”
“To you, perhaps…but to me it is simply appalling, disgusting and of course puts my family in a bad light. It is common knowledge that Eden runs the thing and makes a lot of money.”
“Well, that part could be commendable—at least she doesn’t depend on you for support as so many children of the idle rich do.”
“In a way, I wish she did—err…would…it is irritating for me to deal with this embarrassment.”
“And the other daughter—has she fared more to your taste?”
His face lit up and a warm smile crossed his lips. “Zephyr…ah, my little prize. Pure and good, mysterious and intelligent, remote and warm—that describes my little sea urchin pretty well, I put it to you, Mr. Denning. Just being in her presence makes me proud of her.”
“So, if I’m not mistaken, what I’m hearing is a fairly large dose of partiality here. Of course, it isn�
�t unusual for a parent to have preferences in their children. I was an only child, so I never experienced—”
“—but I love my family equally, Mr. Denning. And all of them are at risk. It is not just simply a matter of financial considerations, or the risk of losing property or investments—but life and death, sir. It is for this that I implore you to hear me out.”
Suddenly the man was running scared inside. He tripped across something that had evidently bothered him daily, but maybe he had learned to shove it down deep for a while. But when it came up for air, I could tell fear had gripped him like the hand of the ol’ Grim Reaper. “Please, continue, Mr. Royce,” I said as I sipped on my fine gin.
“Somehow I need to conceal my family—steal them away during the night, deliver them to a safe island, or some sanctuary, not easily accessed, where they will be undetected and untraceable.”
“So far, I get it. You want to get your family out of the U.S.—someplace where whoever’s chasing you in your nightmares, can’t get to. So how do I figure into your concerns?”
“Well, that’s a touchy one, Mr. Denning, and one I earnestly hope you are willing to undertake. You see, none of them will listen to me per se. But if you perhaps could speak to each one of them in my stead, fully representing my wishes, it might make the difference.”
“Why can’t you hire a lawyer for that? You gotta remember, Mr. Royce, I’m just a gumshoe who used to be a cop at one time, who carries a .38 because we live in a dangerous world—”
“—that’s precisely why I cannot hire an attorney for the job. You’re tough, Denning, you’ve got the guts to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. You’re trained in dealing with the dark side of things, the violent threats that back a man up against the wall, and the kind—”
“—who threatens you while using your family for collateral. So, if I may ask, Mr. Royce, what is it you know that they—assuming there is a ‘they’—don’t want you to know?”
He sat back on his large over-stuffed chair and took out a cigarette. I came over and lit it for him. “Thank you, Mr. Denning. I think I’m going to like working with you.”
“Whoa! Wait a little minute here, Mr. Royce. I haven’t said yes yet. See here? I’ve still got those seven hundred smackers right in this envelope here on the table. I might be brave and all and know how to handle a firearm, but I’m not into suicide—at least not this year. And you didn’t answer me—what do you know that they don’t want you to know?”
He took a big drag on his cigarette and let out a big stream of blue smoke. “Well, you see, I know too much, Mr. Denning…much…too much…I—I personally don’t mind dying, if it comes to that. But not my girls. I’ve been married to the same lovely woman for thirty-three years. Through her, I sired two exquisite daughters—albeit different as night and day—yet equally my flesh and blood. Love isn’t about approval in this world, Mr. Denning. Love is only about love, which must include acceptance.”
Royce made me think a lot of things in a very few seconds. “Yet you must somehow have been involved in a business so dangerous as to have it come back now and bite you in the butt, if you’ll pardon my frankness. Did you consider that when your girls were growing up?”
He looked down at the floor. “Money and power are equal corruptors—partners like a double opiate—and pretty soon you’re hooked. You’re also young and ambitious and getting richer by the day. Maybe one doesn’t consider the price to be paid for such folly when youth runs through your veins like injections of pure gold and you can never picture yourself older than thirty—ever.”
I was angry. I had seen and known this type of man before. Only they came with different faces. They were Ravna, Frank Laggore, Jack Dragna—ambitious men who would’ve bulldozed granny down for that extra bit of power and that next dirty dollar. “Guys like you make me laugh, you know. Twenty years of betting against the spinning roulette wheel and suddenly you’ve got a conscience because now your family is threatened—and maybe for the first time you realize you, too, are expendable. Was that what you wanted, Royce? The corruption of greed and avarice—do you want your children and grandchildren to become that, too!” I boomed at him. “And if they don’t mold themselves after the upstanding model of their pater familias, then the other end of the coin is a life threatened—you and your family become fugitives, forever running from the bad guys, their footsteps always a few paces behind you….until one day—and you’ll never know what day that will be—they’ve caught up to you and bang! bang! it’s over and everyone’s dead. You know why? Because if I’m guessing right, this whole thing wasn’t about money for them, either, but something far more sinister and secretively powerful, and if it fell into the wrong hands could cause these powers that be, a mighty inconvenience, Mr. Royce. And they can’t let that cancer spread, now, can they? They’ve got to nip it in the bud—right away, as soon as it’s decided you have become a risk or are derelict—or who knows?—maybe you’re on some timetable of theirs…..bam! at a certain age pop goes the weasel right out the window and six feet under!”
Royce had turned white as he stared at me. I knew no one had ever talked to him like that in his life. But I took the risk at that moment because I was hedging the bets in my favor. Finally he spoke. “This…this is precisely why…why you were recommended to me, Denning. You’ve got the guts to wrench it out of your craw and spill it here on the table in front of us. You see, you’ve crossed over a line of personal risk and danger. I would have killed a lesser man than you for verbally lambasting me the way you just did. But as you said, truth is truth—isn’t it?...and it neutralizes the moment. I’ve got to have that kind of man on my side. I’ll pay you whatever it takes if and when you deliver for me. And when you do, I’ll be there for you.”
“Yes…can be a terrible word, Royce. Its implications can pursue you the rest of your life if you make the wrong choice. I stand at that crossroad right now, here, with you…” I took out a Lucky Strike and lit it up. “You see, as you probably already know, I’ve been down this road before with a whole crew of motley, dangerous people, all after one thing, all willing to kill whoever they need to in order to get it. Men without conscience or consideration, respect or principle. So, when I mention panic button words like God of Our Fathers or Oculus Pyramis Mandatum, neither of us will be surprised now, will we, Royce?”
He remained calm. “No…we won’t be surprised. So now you’ve discovered my dirty little secret. Now you know that I have sold my soul for a mess of pottage. But what I cannot bear is that I made the same deal for the souls of my beloved wife and two young daughters.” He got up, walked over to the window and looked out at the handsome landscape. Then he turned. “Please…help me, Denning. I beg you…I don’t know where else to turn. I have pretty well run out of options.”
“Well, it’s kind of nice to know I was last on your list,” I said with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “It’s too bad, isn’t it, that sometimes we’re allowed to speak for the destiny of other souls?”
“It’s a downright tragedy. Will you help?”
“Oh, by the way—not to change the subject—but while I’m taking mental notes, you didn’t mention what your youngest daughter, uh—”
“—Zephyr…”
“Yeah, Zephyr. Both of your daughters have very unusual but catchy names.”
“Catchy? Is that how you see them? Believe me, that wasn’t Mathilda’s or my intention when we named the girls. Anyway, she lives in a seashell.”
That one bowled me over. “Uh…could you clarify that one a bit for me?”
“Well, from the moment Zephyr was born, she had an affinity for the sea. She loves sea creatures. She even has a favorite dolphin she plays with on a regular daily basis. Everything from her diapers to the wallpaper delighted her as long as it had an oceanic theme. We tried traditional clothing, monograms with lambs, little bears, fairy tale characters and the like, but she cried upon having them in her surroundings. Then one day something curious happened. Wh
en she was barely walking, maybe a year and a half, we took her to the beach for the first time. The minute she saw the water she lit up and started cooing in a strange language that was all her own. She ran for the water and Mathilda and I grabbed her. But she began to weep the most heart-wrenching tears you ever saw—so we stayed with her as she continued toward the surf. Unafraid, she walked into the water, smiling, laughing, and calling out to some invisible world in her imagination. Fearlessly she braved the waves and walked deeper and deeper into the water until she began to swim! Her mother and I were shocked. And for the best part of the afternoon she stayed in the water, happily frolicking and speaking to her invisible playmates. Or maybe they weren’t invisible, I don’t recall.”
“No sharks?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows. I knew every once in a while a great white or tiger shark would take a nip out of a swimmer around those waters.
“Just dolphins…or…or as I said, make believe playmates.”
Something he was saying didn’t resonate quite right with me. He stopped and took a deep breath, looking at me as if he were expecting a retort of disbelief. “I have this feeling there’s more to it, Mr. Royce.”
“Oh, yes, there’s more alright. Just as Mathilda took her hand to lead her out of the water, a most peculiar thing happened. From out of nowhere a young dolphin appeared. Now, the beaches around Malibu have never been known to have a native species of dolphin. Zephyr tugged away from my wife and embraced the little dolphin, placing her cheek right up close to its eye! Both Mathilda and I knew at that moment this was no ordinary child.”
I put out my cigarette in an ashtray on top of a little round table. I got up and put my hands in my pockets, looking down at the seated Benedict Royce. “Quite a story, Mr. Royce…quite a story.”
“But you don’t believe it…”
“On the contrary, I’ve seen places and dimensions the ordinary guy wouldn’t think about in a lifetime. So your Zephyr comes across as unique and plausible. You say she lives in a seashell?”
Love Me or Kill Me (The Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 2) Page 3