A Gambling Man
Page 15
“You don’t care for the sweet vermouth, then?”
She looked impressed. “I like a man who knows his cocktails. For me, it’s an essential skill. And no, I care for nothing sweet at all.”
Unsure of how to take this, Archer retook his seat and said nothing. She eyed the notepad and pen he had placed on the table. “This must be serious if you’re to chronicle all I have to say.”
“Just standard procedure,” interjected Dash.
She took up residence in front of the flames once more and looked down at the two men, her drink held loosely at her side. She was apparently waiting for them to sample their libations.
Dash took a sip of his and smiled. “Good bourbon.”
“From Kentucky. That’s where they first distilled whiskey into what we call bourbon. In a county of the same name.”
“Didn’t know that,” said Dash, giving the woman the once-over in a single glance.
Archer drank from his Manhattan. “Nice,” he said. “Thank you.”
Dash eyed her closely. “Heard you were ill recently. Appendicitis. You’re looking fine now.”
“How did you know?”
Dash glanced at Archer before saying, “Myron O’Donnell is in my building. He happened to mention that he performed the operation.”
“He was my mother’s doctor, too. And many years ago he saved my father’s life after a car accident. That’s how I came to use him. He’s a fine surgeon.”
As soon as she finished speaking, her look hardened like wet cement solidifying. “Now, to business.”
“You know why we’re here?” said Dash.
“In a general sense, yes.”
She sipped her drink and then placed it on a doily set on the timber mantel. “But please feel free to enlighten me as to particulars.” She picked up a cigarette case from a side table, clicked it open, and extracted a cigarette. Then she placed it into an ivory holder, which she also took from the case, and ignited the end with a platinum lighter that had sat next to the case. She replaced both exactly where they were before.
A careful, measured woman, Archer observed. Who likes things just so. At least the things she can control. He wrote this impression down.
She blew smoke out and picked up her drink, taking another sip.
Dash said, “Some of this may be troubling to hear.”
“Much of what I have to deal with is troubling, Mr. Dash. And people like you and your associate do not get called in when things are not troubling, do you?”
“I appreciate that you understand the situation.”
She took another puff of cigarette and a sip of her drink. “I’ll understand it even better when you tell me the particulars.”
Archer took another swallow of his drink and eyed the room once more, this time with a nuanced approach.
Everything in this place is for show. He eyed Kemper. Maybe including the woman.
He didn’t write this down; he didn’t have to.
Dash laid it all out for her, piece by piece, regurgitating everything that her husband had earlier told them, including his denials of a relationship with Ruby Fraser.
Kemper took it all in and drained the rest of her drink, then turned and started toward the table as though to make another but seemed to think better of it. It was the only moment of indecision Archer had seen in the woman. And from that glimpse he considered the possibility that she actually might be human, with real blood flowing through her thin veins.
She returned to face them in front of the fire, which now seemed to Archer somewhat metaphorical. She perched on the leather-topped fender surrounding the fireplace opening.
“Have you talked to your husband about this…matter?” asked Dash.
She took a moment to finish her cigarette and tossed it, minus the holder, into the fire. She dexterously rolled the ivory holder around and around between her thumb and index finger. “Not really, no. Douglas is running for mayor, I’m sure you know.”
“Which makes the matter even more delicate, and the timing suspicious.”
The cornflower eyes focused on him with an astonishing degree of severity. “Mr. Dash, you are not a fool, I take it?”
“My worst enemies would accuse me of a lot, and they would be right, but being a fool is not one of them. I’ve seen too much of life and suffered through quite a bit of it. It strikes foolishness clean from you, least it did for me.”
“Then do not intimate that the timing of the election makes this accusation scurrilous.”
“Now that’s a fifty-dollar word,” replied Dash.
“And the only one that comes to my mind to fit the situation.”
“Then you believe that your husband did have an affair with Ruby Fraser?”
Her angry look quickly faded. “I…I don’t know about that. I would hope not. But…”
“Did you ask him?”
“No, I didn’t.” She paused and studied her shoes. “Maybe I didn’t want to know his answer,” she added quietly.
“His political opponents would love to make hay out of this.”
“Alfred Drake most assuredly knows of it, or at least his associates do, which in politics is a difference without meaning.”
“I forgot your father was mayor here and once took a run at the governor’s mansion in Sacramento.”
Her lips pursed for a moment. Archer wasn’t sure if she was holding back a smile or not.
She said, “He won the mayor’s race by a landslide and lost the governor’s contest by the same margin.”
“Is there a lesson in that?” asked Archer.
She turned to him, her look now one of amusement. “Fame and influence are both often fickle and localized.”
“I’m sure it was a hard loss for your father,” said Dash.
“It was, if only because it was the only time he did lose at anything.”
“But Drake may be behind this blackmail attempt.”
“He may, or he may not. I have no idea, really. I actually always thought Alfred Drake was a decent man. But I think that of many people and I’ve been proven wrong before.”
“If he is the blackmailer, we could use that against him,” noted Dash.
“No one expects Drake to win, even with this allegation bubbling up.”
Archer spoke up. “Then why would your husband hire us to investigate the matter if it will have no impact on the outcome of the election?”
She graced him with a look that hit Archer somewhere between his gut and his heart. Her slender tongue slid over the pale, glossy, and full lips.
“An excellent question to which I have no viable answer. Did you ask him that?”
Dash said, “I don’t usually discourage clients from hiring me, and in our defense, we didn’t know the lay of the land yet. But what you said does give me something to chew on.”
Archer said, “So you know Alfred Drake, then?”
“I used to go to him for my teeth.” She smiled. “He’s actually an orthodontist and an excellent one. I think he did a rather marvelous job, taking out some teeth and putting braces on which straightened the ones that were left. I was hopeless as a child. My father was ready to give up on my having any sort of a social life simply because of the atrocious state of my teeth. But it was my mother who finally put her foot down and took me to Drake.”
“I hardly think anyone would have agreed with your father’s assessment,” noted Archer.
This did not earn him a second graceful smile. The eyes grew cold.
“In many ways, his observation was spot-on because people are invariably shallow, at least here. But you can know nothing of that, so don’t bother rendering an opinion.”
Archer held up a hand in a motion of acquiescence and also apology.
This also did him no favors with the woman. “You surrender quite easily, Mr. Archer. I hope you’re not as squeamish in your work. If so, my husband will certainly be overcharged.”
She turned her attention to Dash, as though now totally discou
nting the value of Archer’s presence. “Anything else, or can you both leave me in relative peace now?”
“Not unless you can think of anything that might help our investigation.”
“If I did, I probably wouldn’t tell you.”
“So, you don’t want to help out your husband here?”
“If Douglas got himself into this, he can get himself out of it.”
“I apologize in advance for this question, but is he the sort of man who has the wandering eye?”
“What man doesn’t?” was her reply.
“Well, I think that’s it for now, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”
She leaned over and pushed a button on the wall. Five seconds later the same man appeared to lead them out.
As they were leaving, Archer put his notepad and pen away and glanced back at Kemper.
She caught him looking and said imperiously, “Something on your mind, Archer?”
“Nothing wrong with having that second drink now. It might taste better at this point.”
“And why is that?” she asked in a disinterested tone.
“You got your piece off your chest and didn’t stumble once over your lines. I’d clap in appreciation except I’m holding my hat.”
Chapter 27
AS ARCHER AND DASH APPROACHED the Delahaye, the man who had been washing the Triumph out back came up to them rubbing his hands on a white towel. He was around thirty-five with a muscular build, good looks, a trim black mustache, and brooding eyes. A short-barreled stogie perched from one corner of his slash for a mouth. He was wearing a white T-shirt and dark brown jodhpurs tucked into leather lace-up boots and a chauffeur’s black cap.
General George Patton would have been proud of the man’s wardrobe choices, thought Archer. Now all he needed were the twin pearl-handled Colt pistols.
“Nice ride,” said the man, looking the Delahaye over.
“Right back at you,” said Archer, pointing to the Phantom and the Bentley. “And I saw you washing the Triumph. Rode in one of those over in England.”
The man pinched his stogie and nodded. “I was over there too. Hundred and First Airborne. Name’s Adam Stover.”
“Meaning you jumped out of perfectly good airplanes,” noted Dash with a grin.
“I was Eighth Army,” said Archer. “Name’s Archer. That’s Willie Dash.”
Stover eyed Archer. “Eighth Army? Then you got your share of killing and nearly being killed.”
“I think we all did.”
“You two here visiting Mrs. Kemper?”
Dash said, “Yes, on some private business.”
Archer said, “Nice place.”
Stover laughed. “One way to see it. They got more money than God.”
“How’d you end up here?”
“I’m from Bay Town. Came back after the war. Know my way around cars. So there you go.” He eyed the house and then Dash. “Seen your billboards around town, Mr. Dash. You’re a private dick.”
“That I am. So is Archer here.”
“Got trouble here, then?”
“Again, we’re private dicks, so that’s as far as it can go, Mr. Stover.”
Stover touched the bill of his cap and walked off.
As Archer climbed into the car, he glanced at one of the French doors to see Beth Kemper watching him. With his gaze still locked on her, Kemper turned and walked away.
As they drove away from the mansion and out through the gates, a marine fog was coming in off the ocean and accumulating like fire smoke in the clefts and fingers of the foothills after already invading the lower canyons. The wind had picked up, and it looked like rain was coming as the temperature dropped.
“I guess it can get pretty tricky driving up or down here when the mist rolls in,” said Archer.
“It’s tricky driving up or down here at any time, and I’m not necessarily referring to the weather.”
“Where to now, Willie?”
“Back to the office. I need to think some.”
Archer checked his timepiece. “It’s still early for me. How about I do some sleuthing on my own?”
“And how exactly would you go about doing that, I’d like to know.”
“I wouldn’t mind having another go at Ruby Fraser. She’s got more to say than she did. I can go back to see her show, and talk to her after. I can bring my friend along with me. She’s looking for work.”
“Ruby might not talk to you again, Archer.”
“She might with another woman there. Let me work it, Willie. You have to trust me at some point.”
“Right, only I don’t know if I’ve gotten to that point yet, Archer. We did just meet.”
“I won’t louse it up. I’ll just be listening.”
Dash rubbed his stomach and grimaced in some pain.
“You got something going on down there?” asked Archer.
“I got something going on lots of places. It doesn’t concern you.”
“If his wife maybe believes he’s having an affair, what are we supposed to do about the blackmail angle? And Kemper might very well win the election, affair or not, like his wife said.”
“The election isn’t the thing, Archer. Somebody is committing a crime. And they need to be punished for it.”
“Now you’re sounding like Mr. Shaw.”
Dash looked down. “I was a cop for a long time. Sticks to your bones and your brain. But since you’re an ex-con maybe I’m speaking to a wall.”
“I’ve got morals, Willie, maybe more than you think.”
“And I’ve got to always keep in mind that I work for the client, not the blindfolded lady holding the scales of justice.”
“I can see how that might be hard.”
“If it ever stops being hard, I need to see about another line of work.”
“So drop you off at the office then?”
“Yeah, and keep your eyes on the road, or the only place we’ll be going is off this mountain, the hard way.”
After leaving Dash at the office, Archer turned the Delahaye around and drove back to the boardinghouse. He passed Madame Genevieve in the hall. She spoke to him with only her eyebrows, which rose toward the ceiling.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Your lady friend is very demanding.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
He raced up the steps and knocked on Callahan’s door.
“Who is it?”
“Archer.”
“Come on in.”
“You decent?”
“Well, if I were, I wouldn’t have told you to come on in.”
Even Archer had to grin at that one.
He opened the door and closed it behind him. Twirling his hat, he moved over to the bed where Callahan was lying and wearing the same pale clingy robe she’d had on before.
“Had a busy day?” he began, eyeing her closely.
She stretched like a cat, yawned, and wiggled a bit, lifting the robe to a fascinating height. “Yeah, I’m worn out just being little old me.”
Archer looked at the floor and said, “Madame Genevieve says you’re a tough customer.”
“If asking for hot water and a towel is a tough customer, then I plead guilty.”
She sat up against the pillow, pulled out a cigarette from her case, and lit it. Archer did the same and perched on her bed.
“I did run out for smokes. Do you know what they’re charging for a pack of Camels? A quarter. It’s eighteen cents back in Reno. What’s so special about this place?”
“Maybe it’s the ocean premium.”
“Yeah, right. Oh, did you get the job?”
Archer nodded. “Already working a case.”
“Why are you here then?”
“You still thinking about trying for a job at Midnight Moods?”
“Yeah, I am. Seems to be the only game in town.”
“How do you know that?”
“I haven’t been lying here all day waiting for you, Archer.”
“I was there earlier today because the case I’m working has to do with one of the gals who performs out there. I’m planning to go back there tonight. So I came back here to ask if you want to come along with me tonight and see about getting a job out there. Like you said, it’s the only game in town. And then maybe you could be there while I talk to the lady again. She might feel more comfortable with another woman there.”
She rubbed her toes against his pants leg. “You promised you’d take me to dinner.”
“Her show doesn’t start until ten. So we can go there after dinner. And my treat. I’m gainfully employed, and now I have some leads to follow up on. So how about it? Will you come?”
“Sure, Archer, I’ll come.”
“Great.” He rose.
“Hey, do you have to rush off?” She eyed her bed. “I’m…kind of lonely.”
“No can do, Liberty. I’m a workingman now.”
She looked resignedly up at him. “You’re sure taking this shamus thing to heart, Archer.”
“Only way to do it.” He tipped his hat and walked out the door wondering how he’d found the fortitude to do that.
Chapter 28
ARCHER WENT BACK TO THE DASH AGENCY.
Morrison told him that Dash had left almost immediately after Archer had dropped him off.
“Where does he live?” asked Archer. “Nearby?”
“If he hasn’t told you, I don’t think it right that I should.”
“Okay, did a message arrive from Kemper? It was supposed to be a list of people for us to check out.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Do you have Kemper’s address, then? I could run over and get the list.”
Morrison looked at him.
“Willie knows I’m going to do some investigating on my own.”
“I know. He told me. He said he was coming to trust you.” She paused, wrote something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to him. “Kemper’s address.”