by J. R. WRIGHT
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Marti said from the rear seat.
“Can we join you?” Dunbar asked. “I have a few more questions for Gloria.”
“Of course,” Gloria returned. “I have some questions of my own I’d like answers to.”
“Fine. If I can, I’ll be happy to answer them.” Dunbar threw open his door at the curb, got out, and opened the rear door, as well.
Once in the diner and seated in a booth, Dunbar on the side facing the door, Marti asked, “Is Officer Ripley unsociable?” She glanced at him seated at the counter, alone. “He’s kind of cute. Gloria may be interested.”
With that, Gloria shot her a look of disinterest. Cute he may be, but it would take more than that to get her interested in another man, at this point.
“Yeah, well, there’s some silly rule in our department that prohibits uniformed officers from socializing with civilians while on duty.”
“We’re not civilians,” Marti protested. “I’d say we are victims in an investigation.”
“Good point,” Dunbar said and looked toward where Ripley sat. “Ben, get over here!”
With that, Ripley promptly came over. “Yes, sir?”
“Sit down,” Dunbar said and slid over to make room for him. “These ladies made a request for your company.”
“Thank you,” Ripley said, smiling at the ladies and receiving the same in return.
To put an end to this folly, Dunbar said, “Now, Ms. Gillen, you said you had some questions?”
“I was just wondering if you have enough to make a case, now… well… now that you know about what happened to Susannah?”
“Before I answer that… Did you know her?”
“No. We never met. She was already dead by then… by the time I met him. But that didn’t keep Raym from talking about her. Angry, awful things, usually… Like me, she divorced him. And that didn’t sit to well with him… seeing as how he can’t handle rejection.”
“Are you scared of him?” Dunbar looked at her strangely.
“I am now.”
“But you weren’t while married to him?”
“Not particularly. I mean, he slapped me around a little occasionally… But I got used to that. After I found out what happened to the other wife, I felt lucky just to be alive afterward. By then I’d convinced myself that as long as I was married to him, he wouldn’t kill me.”
“But you divorced him anyway.”
“Yes. After a while I got to thinking death might not be so bad. He had openly taken a mistress. I couldn’t tolerate that.”
“Oh, Gloria…” Martina took her hand under the table.
“But then you allowed him to keep coming around?”
“Old habits are hard to break. I guess in a way, I thought I was serving up justice, seeing as how he married the mistress. Turnabout is fair play, is it not, Lieutenant?”
Dunbar chuckled. “Yes, I guess it is. But to answer your question, no, we don’t have a case yet. The Koffee family is a very respected family in St. Louis, as you surely know. That fact alone will make it doubly hard to get an indictment… even once we have more incriminating evidence.”
“So… what’s the plan, Lieutenant?” Marti said. “Do we wait for someone to actually die?” She hadn’t singled out Gloria of purpose, for fear of creating even more anxiety in her than the poor woman already had stored up, but it was only logical, she would be the one most likely targeted. “Then hope something incriminating will be left behind?”
“Of course not!” Dunbar was instantly riled. “We keep digging for the needle… even if that means we need to sort through the entire haystack. We know it’s there. Now it’s just a matter of finding it,” he said confidently.
The waitress came, and since no one had yet bothered to look at the menu, it became follow the leader, once Martina ordered her favorite — cheeseburger and fries.
“Gloria,” Dunbar continued to probe, “did you ever know Raym to own guns?”
“A Koffee without guns! Are you kidding? Between him and his father they must have hundreds. Of course, most of those are antiques handed down through the family from the early days. Raym’s father has an entire wall full of them in that old log house at the ranch.”
“Any twenty-two’s?” Dunbar wasn’t sure what knowing this would prove. Anyone who owned a lot of guns most likely had one or two of those. They were common. But it may serve to jog loose other memories about Raym that may be stowed away somewhere in that pretty little head of hers.
“I wouldn’t know a twenty-two from a BB gun.” Gloria shrugged.
“I take it from that you’ve never fired a gun, either?”
“No. Never. Guns frighten me.”
That’s when Dunbar focused his attention on Martina. “How about you, Miss Spalding? Any experience with…”
“Yes. A little.” She purposely downplayed her true ability, fearing if Dunbar knew how expert she was, he may somehow think differently of her. Not that he didn’t already think her a tomboy, for the job she’d done on the John Doe. “What are you suggesting, Lieutenant… that we arm ourselves?”
“Frankly, no. A gun in the hands of a novice most often does more harm than good.”
“So we’re to go naked to the dance… so to speak? Is that it, Lieutenant?” Martina said, without even the trace of a smile. No way would she fess up to having a semi-automatic pistol in the purse, right there beside her.
“My suggestion is you stay indoors… during nighttime hours, at least. Lock your door securely… and keep the phone handy. I’ve already put in a request patrols be increased in this area.”
Just then, a clap of thunder sounded from outside and soon it began to pour down rain. So much for the beautiful day it started off to be this morning. Marti glanced out the window. But no matter how gloomy she felt because of it, she vowed not to allow herself, ever again, to sink to the miserable lows of earlier, when she’d unburdened herself for near a half hour in the shower.
When they gathered at the door of the diner sometime later to make a run through the rain for the patrol car, Dunbar gallantly removed his jacket and allowed the ladies to huddle under it. He then ran ahead of them and had the door open when they arrived. He did likewise at the apartment building and followed them inside.
“You coming up, Lieutenant?” Gloria said as she handed his wet jacket back.
“No, but I would like a word with Miss Spalding before I go.”
“Oh… Okay.” She looked at the two of them strangely, before turning away to the stairs and heading on up.
Once she was out of sight, Dunbar guided Marti to the dead space behind the stairs. There he lifted a pants leg and unsnapped a leather holster from above the ankle. He then pulled the small pistol from it and handed it over to her. It was similar in size to the one she already had, except this one was made especially by Beretta for just what Dunbar used it for: a backup.
Marti expertly popped the clip out to check for bullets, then slid open the chamber to check for a cartridge there. It was something her father insisted she do, as a safety precaution each time she handled a weapon. She then popped the empty chamber closed and reinserted the loaded clip.
“I can see right now I don’t need to give you any instruction. But why am I surprised?” He glared at her.
Not knowing what to say, she simply handed the gun back to him. Dunbar in turn reinserted the pistol into the holster and handed it over, leg straps and all.
“Now you won’t be naked at the dance,” he said, with the twinkle of a smile. “I hope you don’t need to use it. But if you do, you didn’t get that from me. Understand?”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.” She shoved the gun into her purse in such a way as not to expose the one already there and turned back for the stairs.
“You bet.” He watched her go up a half flight, then pulled down on the brim of his hat, put on his wet jacket, and headed for the door, hoping he’d done the right thing.
In the apartment, Marti
found Gloria anxious to know what Dunbar was keeping from her. “I suppose he thinks I’m seriously deranged for sticking with Raym as long as I did. What did he say?”
“Actually, he didn’t say anything about you. But he cares. He’s worried for your safety.”
“How do you know that, if he didn’t say anything?”
“Because he gave me this,” Marti said, and pulled the gun from her purse. “Come on, I’ll show you how to use it.”
“Oh! No!” Gloria tossed up her hands and moved away. “Don’t even come near me with that thing!”
“Do you want to end up like Parker? Or even worse?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The following morning, Gloria pranced around the living room as Martina looked on. “How do I look?”
“The makeup is fine. You can hardly tell. And I love the dress. Do you have it on?”
“Yep.” Gloria raised the dress to expose the holster, pistol in it, strapped just above the knee on the inside of her left leg.
“Did you do what I told you?”
“Yes. I slept with it in my hand the entire night. And, yes, I practiced injecting a cartridge into the chamber every time I got up to pee. I felt like Ma Barker sitting on the pot, pumping that thing.”
“Okay, give it to me. I’ll load it.”
“Oh, Marti, do you have to?”
“It isn’t going to do you much good without bullets, now is it? Just pretend it’s a cap gun. Like the one you played with as a kid.”
“You keep saying that, but this thing is deadly,” she said, handing it over.
“Then pretend it isn’t. Just pull it and point. You won’t squeeze the trigger unless your life’s in danger. I guarantee it.”
“Why are you that sure?”
“Because you’re not a killer, Gloria! And neither am I. But we will hurt someone to save ourselves. That’s only human nature.” Marti handed the gun back fully loaded. “Now come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”
“Oh my, this is heavier now.” She pulled up her dress, popped out a leg, and reinserted it into the holster.
“You’ll get used to it.” Martina took a freshly pressed Spencer House uniform from the knob, gathered her purse, and unlatched the door. “Just remember, that’s part of you now, day and night, from here on.”
An hour later, Marti deposited her uniform in the nurse’s locker room on the fourth floor, then passed by Gloria’s desk on the way out. “Well, I’ll see you at four. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Except Mister Harris looked at me strangely as he passed through.”
“You look fine. I’m going to see Parker. Then I have some shopping to do.”
“Oh, Martina, while you’re doing that, will you pick out a sexy night dress for me?”
With a question on her lips, Marti glared. She knew Gloria slept in the nude. And there wasn’t a lover in her life now…
“I thought if I’m expected to sleep with a pistol, I may as well give it the same respect I would a man.” She smiled broadly. “They’re kind of the same, don’t you think? I mean they’re both loud, have a hot breath, and can fire off when you least expect it.” Gloria chuckled.
“That’s the spirit,” Marti said, and laughed. “Any particular color?”
“You choose.”
“So you’re serious?”
“Never been more.”
Marti looked at her strangely. “Okay. Any particular shop?”
“Try Natalie’s on Main, downtown.” Gloria reached in her purse under the desk and came up with a twenty dollar bill.
“You got it!” Marti took the money and walked away, still wondering if Gloria was alright. Once outside, she turned toward the apartment building parking lot, just up the street. Downtown, thirty blocks away, would require her car. But she still planned to visit Parker at the hospital, first.
Twenty minutes later she was doing just that. However, she found him in not such a good mood as he’d been on her previous visits. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wanting to snatch that gloomy look off his face. For a brief moment he appeared glad to see her, then looked away. The breakfast tray was still on the bed table, and it appeared he’d hardly touched it.
“It’s Monday. I ought to be at work.” He met her eyes. “Needless to say my boss wasn’t too happy when the hospital called to report my condition and said I couldn’t possibly return for two more weeks.”
“Oh, Parker, I’m so sorry.” She dipped in for a kiss, which he did respond to, at least.
“Thanks, Doc. I needed that.”
“Me too!” she said cheerfully, then giggled in an attempt to build his spirits. “Any more naughty dreams?”
“Every night,” his voice cracked as he smiled deviously.
“Well, it’s good to know your libido hasn’t suffered from all this.”
“Yeah. I guess it pretty much has a life of its own. But then, it doesn’t need to punch a time clock to survive.”
“Parker, are you in need of money?”
“No. I’m fine. That was just a miserable attempt at humor.” He chuckled. “It would be nice, though, if he became more actively stimulated.”
“When you’re well,” Marti said, with an uneasy smile. She felt the need to kiss him again, but began feeding him some fruity gelatin, instead. Then, after the milky, somewhat cold oatmeal and glass of juice, she undid the straps and gently rolled him to his side. In that position, she used the lotion available to massage his back. After a half hour of that, to Parker’s happy groans, she reversed the process and reapplied the straps.
“Thanks, Doc,” Parker said gratefully. “A nurse just did that about an hour ago. But I must say, you did it better.”
“Well, thanks a lot,” Marti said, smilingly. “You wait till now to tell me that?”
“I said you were much better…”
“Two timer!” Martina accused and went in for another kiss.
It was near noon before she left the hospital, but to her credit, Parker was in better spirits when she did. After promising to return the following morning, she headed for her car, intent on driving downtown. Actually, when she told Gloria she planned to do some shopping, it was window shopping she had in mind. But now that there was a real purpose to it, she was actually excited. Maybe Natalie’s would have something appealing for her, as well.
Marti hadn’t noticed the baby blue Thunderbird follow her to the hospital. Nor did she see it pull from a side street and fall in, at a distance, behind her now. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t alert to her surroundings — she was. But hers was most concentrated on the immediate area of her travel, as opposed to a half block or more away.
Natalie’s shouldn’t be too hard to find, she thought. After all, the library was at the crossroads of First Avenue and Main. It was just a matter of left or right, hit or miss, until she found it. How large could the downtown shopping district be anyway, five or six blocks in either direction?
Once there, she went to the right first, pulled into a gas station five blocks up, and circled back. Then, two blocks past First Avenue, she spotted the sign a half block up and began looking for a parking spot. She found one within a hundred feet of the front door and pulled in. However, the Ford Thunderbird behind her had to go to the next block to find the first available opening thereafter.
Marti made one pass through the almost exclusively lingerie establishment to get a feel for what they had before circling back to the night dresses. She found a pretty one right off and held it up to herself in a nearby mirror. Unfortunately, it was made of cotton, and Gloria just wasn’t a cotton kind of gal. Another rack produced an array of silk gowns in great colors and patterns. One in red — Gloria was partial to red — had a low neckline, puffy sleeves and a slit up both sides to the thigh. Holding it up to herself in the mirror — Gloria and she were near the same size — Martina couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. Checking the price, she found it to be eighteen ninety-five. With tax added it would come to almost
exactly twenty dollars. Perfect!
Wandering back through the store, several times she had to pause to avoid other customers — female of course — as they shopped as well. Coming to a table of panties on sale, she dug through them and found a frilly red pair to match the nightgown, and held them up to the light to see how transparent they were. That’s when she saw him, a man in a ten gallon white hat with his back to her, going through a rack of terrycloth robes. Just the sight of a man present while she was shopping for panties, albeit not for herself, embarrassed her. She dropped the panties instantly and rushed to the check-out line with the gown. Looking back now, she saw the man moving farther back in the store, where other customers were avoiding him like a plague as he traveled. Probably just some guy in need of a gift for his wife… or mistress.
Back in the car, Marti checked her watch and saw that it was twelve thirty-five. After that big breakfast at eight, she really wasn’t all that hungry. That’s when the little coffee shop across the avenue from the library came to mind. And perhaps if she hurried, Gwyn Raizel would still be there, taking her lunch break. And, if she were, would Marti tell her of the violent attack that had occurred at her apartment building, night before last? Not likely. Why dredge up old memories for the octogenarian, forcing the poor woman to relive the horror of her granddaughter’s murder all over again?
Pulling up to the curb, she locked the car and went inside to a crowded dining room. It seemed every table was filled to capacity. All except one — a booth by the window. And there sat Gwyn Raizel, her satchel-like purse on the table, sipping an iced tea. The empty white plate there as well indicated she had already eaten.
“Gwyn,” Marti said, coming up to face her, displaying a pleasant smile.
“Susannah?” The old woman’s mouth fell open as she focused on her.
“No, it’s Martina, Gwyn… Remember, you gave me the…”
“Of course it is. I know that.” She recovered and drew up a slight smile. “I was just thinking about her, how beautiful she was. You look so much like her. Did you get your hair cut, dear?”