by Helen Jacey
A moment while Sonia pondered this. ‘Missing client files in his cabinet looks suspicious.’
‘If he took his own life, he could have burnt or dumped his files to protect his clients’ interests?’
She sipped her martini, eyeballing me.
‘Do you want them? Should I keep them or burn them?’
‘You keep them, of course,’ she tutted, rolling her eyes. ‘I can’t have anything like that in the office. Take a look, see if there’s anything in there. Actually, I might send Joseph over to go through them. I assume that’s okay?’
I nodded. ‘Sure.’
Anyone would be a refreshing change from Sonia. I said, ‘Well, whatever Minski was asked to do, I doubt he got to finish it. Alberta hadn’t met him yet. I saw her this morning. So it’s likely he didn’t get to any of the bandmates.’
‘All right, go talk to Willa. See if you can get anything out of her, her opinion of Dolly, and judge if she’ll be any good on the stand. Dolly said she didn’t know about the affair, so we can’t get her to testify that she did. But if she liked Dolly, it’s a start.’
‘I’ll go back to the boarding house tonight. The trick will be avoiding the landlady again, but I’ve got the lie of the land.’
This would enable me to go home, take a shower, and rinse off dead man’s odor.
‘Why wait? The Tilsons Department store is just a few blocks away. Glove department. She might be there now.’
It sounded like an order. I inwardly cursed. It could be a wasted journey and my skin still felt yucky.
I stood up. ‘All right. Then I’ll go home to check the files. If Joseph wants to come over, I should back in a few hours. Then, I guess, next in line is the funeral reception?’
Sonia looked me up and down. ‘You got something to wear? You have to blend in. Nothing like that outfit, obviously.’
I nodded, biting my tongue.
Sonia was clearly in no hurry to leave the ambience of the hotel lounge. She lit another cigarette and waved at the waiter, pointing at her empty glass. He swooped in with a silver tray, whisking the glass away, and giving Sonia a fetching smile. As he retreated, Sonia said, ‘Oh, get anything on that vice cop? Maybe he’s our killer!’
My stomach flipped. I came closer. ‘What?’
She shrugged. ‘If anyone knows how to make a strangulation look like suicide, it’s a cop. Why are you so horrified?’
I tried to adopt a more blasé expression. ‘Well, I’m just surprised you suspect the cop. All because he was at Linda Hunter’s? Kinda long shot?’
She studied me. ‘I’ll know when you get me answers, won’t I? Let’s see what you can dig up. Anyway, if they suspect foul play in Minski’s death, the murder squad will be busy over the holiday. Ironic if the killer’s one of their own.’
I told her, cool as a cucumber, that my cop contact wasn’t in town, so that whole line of enquiry would have to wait.
She managed to hide her irritation. Just. ‘Well, see Willa and then report back later. Actually, report to Joseph. He’s pretty much up to speed on the case.’
She said I could tell him everything. Then she crossed her legs. ‘Oh, maybe don’t mention the blood-stained hankie. That can stay our little secret, for now.’
Then she grinned at me. The grin of someone holding all the cards.
26
Tilsons Department Store occupied a large corner block on South Broadway. I’d driven past it countless times and regularly glanced over its many advertisements in the paper, whole pages offering discounts on furnishings, toys, children’s clothes and anything for the growing household.
I’d never ventured in. My aspirations in life were more Bullocks Wilshire than Tilsons on Broadway.
It was the kind of place a woman office worker could dash to in her lunch hour to pick up lining for the drapes, or something cute to shut her brats up.
Now came the inevitable lull after Christmas and before New Year. The store was practically deserted apart from shop girls in black dresses. The shopping had been done, gifts had been given, and the city hadn’t quite woken up.
I cruised down the empty aisles on the ground floor, looking for the ladies’ glove section. The gimlet had calmed me down and it was therapeutic to gaze at glittering brooches, perfect square handkerchiefs and perfume.
I could make out the display of colorful arms and hands on top of cabinets in the far corner. With the help of the alcohol in my system, it wasn’t too much a stretch to imagine they were waving me over.
A young woman was bending down behind the counter, busy putting new stock into the drawers. I swallowed an unexpected hiccup. ‘I’m looking for Willa.’
She stood up. ‘That’s me?’
Her pale blue eyes narrowed. Flawless blue, no flecks, no cloudiness, like a pale English sky in summer. She had natural baby blonde hair in an immaculate hairdo, coiled into elegant rolls on each side of her face, and up and over her wide forehead. Her hair was tied back with a black bow. The blonde curls rolled down her back like soft sponge fingers. A dusting of freckles darkened her thin nose. She wore a starched white shirt, buttoned up to the top, a sleeveless black cardigan, and a pleated mid-length black skirt.
She looked me up and down. What would have worked for Minski might work for Willa, too. I looked nice enough not to scare anybody.
‘I know Dolly. She told me about you.’
Willa froze, a glove mid-air. ‘I can’t talk. Please leave.’
It was a bizarre reaction. Sheer fear. I knew then and there Flannery had got to her. Not Minski. But when?
I said, ‘I just want to help her, don’t you? Cops sure as hell don’t. I know you live with her, Willa.’
‘Well, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know anything about what she’s done.’ When she saw I wasn’t moving, she hissed, ‘Go away, will you? I just can’t talk to you! They told me not to!’
‘Who? The cops? Detective Flannery?’
Panicking, she glanced from side to side, wary of eavesdropping colleagues. I followed her eyes. A shop girl at the scarves counter was looking in our direction, curious. We didn’t exactly look like we were discussing gloves.
‘Smile,’ I ordered.
‘What?’
‘They’re only looking because you are being over-dramatic. Look friendly.’
Willa tried to look relaxed. She might have been having her nails pulled out.
Did the other girls know that Dolly was Willa’s roommate? It made sense Willa didn’t want to be tarred by the same criminal brush if the murder was now a Tilsons Department Store scandal.
‘If Dolly’s got herself in trouble, it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘If nobody helps her, the trouble she’s in could be the gas chamber. And she’s innocent.’
Willa’s face changed. She looked faintly nauseous.
Glancing at her watch, she said, ‘It’s my lunch break soon. I can see you out on the street. Just wait outside the store.’
I nodded and left.
Outside, I turned to window-shopping. Three mannequins were wearing winter coats, hats and ankle snow boots lined with fur, with cute little zippers.
‘You really think she’ll get the death penalty?’
I turned. Willa now had on a simple checked wool jacket and a light blue bonnet hat. Her expression was pained, her face pale.
I tried to give a reassuring smile. ‘We know Dolly didn’t do it and we want to help her.’
She glanced at me. ‘Who’s “we”? You her lawyer?’
‘No. Just a pal trying to help.’
‘The detective didn’t say nothing about the gas chamber.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t. What do you say we take a stroll? I can buy you a sandwich, if you’re hungry.’
‘I’m not.’ Willa reluctantly started to walk. ‘Are you the lady who came to Mrs. Olsen’s yesterday?’ Her eyes were still suspicious, but less so.
‘What? No, I don’t even know where you live,’ I lied. ‘When did the cop come b
y?’
‘This morning. Before work. Mrs. Olsen wasn’t there. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘And who’s this woman who came by?’ I acted innocent.
‘Apparently a friend of Dolly’s.’
I asked her if she’d told the cop about her. She said she hadn’t.
‘What’s your name?’ She suddenly asked.
‘Patricia. Patricia Hughes.’
‘Dolly never mentioned you. Not that she would.’
‘You weren’t close?’
‘Sure, we’re friendly. We just don’t socialize together.’
I wanted to get straight to the point and ask about Minski, see if he’d made it back again, but decided against it for now. Flannery would have warned her off talking, so she needed to be eased into it.
Willa blurted out. ‘I just don’t think she’s a killer. Not Dolly.’
I nodded. ‘She a good roommate?’
Willa nodded. ‘We get along fine.’
I asked how long she’d known her and what she knew about her. Willa said they met working at the store. They’d shared a room for some months without a hitch. ‘She’s just untidy. But she does something odd in the night. She shouts out in her sleep. A lot. It sounds awful, but when I ask her, she doesn’t remember a thing.’
‘Well, she’s had a troubled life.’
‘I know. Orphan, and…’ Her voice tailed off. Did she know about the thrashings?
‘Was your room ever broken into?’
‘No, why?’
‘Ever see anyone, hanging around?’
She looked blank.
‘Doesn’t matter. So know who Dolly’s pals are?’
‘No. But she sings in a band sometimes. The Charmettes. A wild bunch, if you ask me.’
‘Why? You know them?’
‘No! ‘ she looked around to check if any passersby were listening. They weren’t. She whispered anyway, ‘They play in a…a girls-only club.’ Accompanied by a meaningful look. ‘One of them comes around a lot, for Dolly.’ This had to be Zetty.
‘Did you tell the detective about her?’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Why not?’
Willa glanced down. ‘I didn’t want them to give the wrong impression about Dolly.’
Loyal. She was protecting Dolly’s reputation.
I didn’t get any sense Willa would want to frame Dolly. She would make a decent character witness for Dolly, if she could be persuaded.
But the District Attorney’s people once they got digging might pressure her otherwise.
‘What did you talk about with the detective?’
Willa hesitated. She said, almost reluctantly, ‘How she met Mr. Hunter.’
We stopped at a traffic light, watching cars. ‘So what did you tell him?’
Willa flushed. She was in too deep, conflicted between obeying the law and wanting to save her friend’s life. ‘That he came to the department store. With his wife. She was buying makeup.’
‘What makeup?’
‘I have no idea. Cosmetics are on the other side of the store. Anyway, he wandered over to us. He took a shine to Dolly, they were laughing together. I could see she liked him, even if he was old enough to be her granddaddy.’
‘Was she flirtatious?’
The lights changed and we started crossing.
Willa nodded. ‘Dolly likes attention. You know, from men. All men. I always thought it could get her in trouble one day, but I don’t think she can help herself.’
That fitted with what Alberta had said.
‘Do you know if Dolly met up with Hunter again?’
She shook her head. ‘She never told me if she did.’
‘Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Dolly?’
‘No. Look, I’ve told you more than I told Detective Flannery and the other cop when they came. You know they searched the room. Mrs. Olsen won’t like it.’
‘Well, they had a warrant, right?’
‘I don’t know. Should I have asked?’ Her eyes widened, alarmed.
‘Probably. Did they take anything?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was a clueless girl who would dance a jig nude if a cop told her to.
At least I’d got pictures of the handsome ‘S’ and his lighter out of the room.
27
By late afternoon, I got back to the hotel and finally was able to take a long hot shower.
Joseph showed up soon after, while my hair was in a towel and I only had my dressing gown on.
He stood at the door, awkward. He didn’t know where to look. ‘Oh, Sonia said…’
‘It’s fine. I’ll get dressed. Just felt really grubby.’
He said, ‘Sure. I don’t blame you.’ Sonia must have told him about the corpse.
He couldn’t look at me as I held the door open. His neck was scarlet at the collar. Was he a tiny bit attracted to me?
I pointed him to Barney’s desk and Minski’s client files, then I went through my office to my bedroom leaving the doors open. I threw on pants and a blouse, and softened my face with some red lipstick.
I could hear him coughing nervously. I called out, telling Joseph about Flannery’s visit to Willa and that he had searched the room but she wasn’t sure if he had found anything. That Willa had witnessed Dolly and Hunter’s first flirtatious encounter, but nothing after that.
I was secretly glad Joseph could relay all this to Sonia rather than me doing it.
When I came back in the office, he said, ‘Sonia won’t like any of it. Willa’s testimony is useless to us.’
I told him that Mrs. Olsen had been out when Flannery came. So the odds were good Flannery didn’t yet know about Minski’s visit, and mine, for that matter.
He said, ‘Finding out who instructed him is the key.’
‘Surely it has to be Linda Hunter?’ Maybe if I repeated it enough, somebody other than Alberta would agree with me.
‘Or someone else who didn’t want Hunter’s reputation in tatters. Even after his death.’
‘Like the brother? Rufus? Trying to keep the family name respectable?’
Joseph thought about this. ‘Someone who wanted Minski silent badly enough to kill him.’
He was noncommittal, just like Sonia. That or he was under strict instructions not to get into things with me. I wondered now if they thought Minski was the killer. Maybe he was really seedy. Maybe guilt had got to him. No point in hypothesizing now.
These attorneys were unlike any people I’d met before. No emotion. No need to confide, to discuss. And zero sentimentality.
A case to these people was just like a game of chess. Silence, strategizing, observing the opposition. Countering, blocking and concealing, as the need arose.
I’d make a useless lawyer, blurting out whatever, getting over-involved and taking wild risks.
Joseph wanted to get down to work, so I offered him a drink. He wanted tea. I fumbled in the ceramic jars in the kitchenette. Bingo! I found a box of English Earl Grey. I also found some cookies. Barney must have stocked up.
I sat back down, suddenly feeling quite drained. I flung myself on one of the client armchairs, swinging my legs over one of the sides. Joseph glanced at me, then as quickly looked away.
After a while, Joseph tapped his finger on some files he had separated from the rest. ‘Minski had three petty blackmail cases active. Unless it’s coded, I can’t find anything that obviously links to Hunter or Dolly.’
‘Maybe he’s taken his secrets to the grave.’ I offered, unhelpfully.
‘Could be. Or somebody got there before you did.’
What? That felt like a dig, Sonia style.
‘Maybe if I had more of a free reign I’d get results quicker.’
Joseph leaned back in the chair, awkward. He sighed. ‘You’re on a tight leash because you’re new. Don’t take it personally. My advice? If you like this kind of work, stick to the brief. If you get another job, it means you passed the test.’ He sounded honest, at last.
&nbs
p; ‘So why won’t Sonia entertain the idea of Linda Hunter as a suspect? She totally ruled it out right off the bat.’
Joseph looked bland. ‘Alibi probably. And Linda could just divorce.’ He looked back down, flicking through a few papers, a cue for me to not go there.
I sighed, watching him for a while.
‘Did you always want to be a lawyer?’
‘In my family, Bergman sons have a couple of options. Being a lawyer…or being a lawyer.’
I laughed. I hadn’t expected a joke from him, let alone candor.
‘Plus, my younger brother is the rebel, so that spot’s taken.’ He sipped some tea.
‘How did he rebel?’ I asked, very curious.
‘Oh, it’s complicated.’ Joseph was already standing up. He had said too much and held the files like a fence going up. ‘Your turn.’
He slipped on his jacket and picked up his lawyer’s briefcase. ‘Oh, and Sonia wants you to talk to Hunter’s secretary. The office is no longer a crime scene. Her name’s Pauline Dobson.’