Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

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Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume) Page 188

by Bill Bernico


  “Which hand?” Izzy said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Did he shoot the man with his right hand or his left hand? Please, Izzy, think about it carefully for a few seconds.”

  Izzy stood up and turned toward the window. He mimed the action, playing the part of the cop. He pretended to draw a gun from his right hip, raising it up to head height and then tried it again from his left hip. He thought for a moment and then said, “It was his left hand. I’m sure of it.”

  Gloria leaned in toward Izzy. “Izzy,” she said. “Did you happen to see the policeman when he left? I mean do you know if he walked away or did you maybe see him drive away in a police car?”

  “No,” Izzy said. “I didn’t move from this spot after I saw what I saw. I was too scared to go into the store and look out the front window. I didn’t hear a car leaving, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one parked out of my hearing distance.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us?” Gloria said, softly squeezing the old man’s arm.

  “That’s all I know,” Izzy said.

  “And you never told any of this to the police who came around later?” I said.

  Izzy shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he said. “What would have happened to me if the policeman I told all this to was the same one who shot that man? You see? I had to keep quiet. I just told the policeman who came around here that I was in the other end of the store around that time and didn’t see or hear anything. That seemed to be all they wanted to know and they left me alone after that.”

  Gloria and I stood and a moment later, so did Izzy. He showed us to the front of the store again and unlocked the front door, pulling up the shade and turning around the sign again.

  “Thank you again, Izzy,” Gloria said. “For your help and for this.” She held up the bag with the vintage jacket in it.

  “You come back any time, young lady,” Izzy said and then turned to me. “And you come back to, Mr. Cooper. I have some lovely jackets that would look marvelous on you as well.”

  “I will,” I said, and led Gloria out of the store and back to my car.

  When we got back in the car, Gloria raised her eyebrows and just looked at me.

  “What?” I said.

  “What you just witnessed, Mr. Cooper was called finesse,” she said. “You don’t just walk in and start asking questions. You have to gain the other person’s confidence and make them like you, and then you ask your questions.” She threw her bag into the back seat and said, “You’ll learn.”

  I started the car and drove away, somewhat in awe of her technique. “Are you really going to wear that god-awful jacket?” I said.

  Gloria shook her head. “Not in this lifetime,” she said. “But just look at all the information we got for just six dollars and fifty cents, which I plan on turning in with my expense account.”

  I had to laugh. “A bargain at twice the price,” I said. “You better hang onto it, thought, in case you have to go back there for any reason. Just think how much more you’ll get from him if you come into his store wearing that monstrosity.”

  “As long as no one I know sees me in it,” she said.

  As we drove along the Hollywood Freeway, Gloria and I talked about what we’d just learned. “We have two possibilities here,” I said. “One, Gordon Reese was shot by a cop.”

  “And what’s number two?” Gloria said.

  “Gordon Reese was shot by someone dressed like a cop,” I said. “And that means that we’d better forget about talking to any more Burbank cops until we know a little more about the circumstances surrounding Reese’s death. We certainly don’t want to be poking our stick in any hornet’s nest.”

  “Couldn’t we just sort of hang around the Burbank Police Department without asking a lot of questions?” Gloria said.

  “And that would accomplish what?” I said.

  “Well,” Gloria said. “It would be like spending the morning at the mall when you don’t really intend to buy anything.”

  “Come again,” I said.

  “When I have nothing else to do, one of my favorite pastimes is to go to the mall, plant my butt on a bench and just watch the people,” Gloria explained. “The show is free?”

  “Now what exactly is that supposed to mean?” I said.

  “A few years ago,” Gloria explained, “I ran into a man on Hollywood Boulevard. He had a camera and he was just taking pictures of all the colorful people who walk up and down the boulevard on any given day. When he’d see an interesting specimen, he’d take their picture and try to get them to sign a release so that he could include their photo in the book he was planning on writing. He told me he was going to call the book, ‘The Show Is Free’ because of all the strange people he came across. He said it was cheap entertainment and it was right there in front of him for the taking.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. How does his story relate to us?”

  “Don’t you see?” Gloria said. “We spend a few hours at the cop shop and just people watch. Who knows? Sooner or later we may see a cop wearing his gun on his left hip.”

  The light bulb above my head burned brightly and Gloria smiled like a man with a turban on some mountain top, sitting cross-legged and dishing out pearls of wisdom.

  “I think you may be onto something there, Miss Campbell,” I said.

  “That’s Ms. Campbell,” Gloria said.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Tell me you’re not one of those,” I said.

  Gloria stared coldly at me for a few seconds and then broke into a wide grin. “I’m just jerkin’ your bobber, boss,” she said. “I can’t stand those kinds of women, or the ones who insist on using some pretentious hyphenated last name. I say pick one and go with it, for Christ’s sake.”

  Now I was laughing right out loud. “Sometimes, I feel like we were separated at birth,” I said. “You kill me, you know that?”

  “I’m serious,” Gloria said. “The only people who annoy me more are the wine snobs who go on about bouquet and body and having to let their wine breathe. Give me a break. Pour a little ‘Two Buck Chuck’ in one of those fancy bottles and they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Who’s worse, the wine snobs or those so-called art connoisseurs? You’ve seen these morons at the galleries going on about their interpretation of a painting and how they can feel the artist’s pain and knew exactly what he was trying to convey with his piece.”

  “Oh yeah,” Gloria said. “And the painting they’re looking at is called ‘Man’s Inhumanity To Man’ and it’s nothing more than a red triangle on a yellow background.”

  “Stop,” I said, laughing hysterically now. “Or I’ll piss in my pants.”

  Gloria held up both palms toward me. “Enough said,” she replied and folded her hands in her lap. We remained silent for exactly three second before we both exploded in laughter.

  My exit was coming up and I reached over and placed my hand on her knee. “Enough,” I said. “This is where we get off.”

  At that comment, Gloria shot me a sideways glance with one eyebrow raised. She glanced down at my hand on her knee and then back at me. I quickly pulled my hand back and grabbed the steering wheel, and said nothing. She seemed to sober up immediately.

  I tooled my car east on Hollywood Boulevard and turned north on Cahuenga, pulling into the lot behind our building. We got out, walked in through the back door and rode the elevator to the third floor. We sat there for a minute, neither of us saying a word.

  The silence was a bit awkward so I broke it by saying, “I’ll be stopping by to look in on Dad later this afternoon. Would you like to come along with me and say hi?”

  Gloria’s head shot up quickly and she had a startled look on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said.

  “Huh?” I said.

  She must have realized that she’d overreacted and backed off. “Nothing,” she said. “I thought you said something else. Never mind.”

  “So,
is that a no on the visit then?” I said.

  “I have to stay here,” Gloria said. “I have some catching up to do. I’ll check in on him later, okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Whatever works for you.”

  I picked up my phone and dialed Dean Hollister at the twelfth precinct.

  “Hollister,” Dean said when he got on the line.

  “Dean,” I said. “It’s Elliott.”

  “Elliott who?” Dean said.

  “Now how many Elliott’s do you know?” I said.

  “Well, let’s see, “Dean said. “There’s Elliott Ness, the crime fighter, Elliott Gould, the actor, Mama Cass Elliott, the ham sandwich eater.”

  “Let me give you a hint,” I said. “It’s Elliott Cooper.”

  “Cooper, Cooper,” Dean said. “Any relation to James Fenimore?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m Gary’s grandson and Jackie’s cousin.”

  “Okay,” Dean said. “I think I have to placed. You’re that clever gumshoe from Hollywood, aren’t you?”

  “Bingo,” I said.

  “What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Cooper?” Dean said.

  “You must have gotten laid last night,” I said. “What else could put you in this kind of rare mood?”

  Gloria gave me a strange look. I turned away from her and continued my phone conversation.

  “You got it in one,” Dean said. “But that’s another story for another time. What’s up?”

  “Are you free for a few minutes this afternoon?” I said. “I’d like to stop in and run something by you.”

  I could hear Dean paging through his appointment book. “I have a few minutes at three-thirty,” he said.

  “Can I stop in then?” I said.

  “Don’t bother,” Dean said. “My business is taking me pretty close to your office. Suppose I stop up there. Are you going to be around?”

  “Yes. That works out perfect for me,” I said. “We’ll see you then. Thanks, Dean.”

  I got off the phone and turned to Gloria. “What’s got into you?” I said. “You seem awfully touchy.”

  Gloria shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she said.

  “When I…” I started to say before she interrupted.

  “So Dean’s coming here?” she said. “What are you looking for?”

  I paused and then decided it would be best not to pursue my questions with her mood. “I just thought I’d see if Dean might be aware of anyone in his records that may have used the fake cop M.O. in the past. I know it’s a long shot, but what else have we got?”

  “No,” Gloria said. “That’s good. That’s one way to go that I hadn’t thought of. But if you wanted to check his records, it would have been better for you to go to him than to have him come here.”

  “He was going to be in the neighborhood anyway,” I said. “I can at least feel him up and then go back to the precinct if this pans out.”

  Gloria gave me another stern look.

  “What is it this time?” I said.

  “Feel him up?” she said.

  “What?”

  “You said you could feel him up.” Gloria said.

  I shook my head. “Did I?” I said. “I meant feel him out. Why would that make you give me that kind of look?”

  “What kind of look?” Gloria said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but it almost feels like resentment or tension, but I haven’t done anything to deserve resentment or cause any tension, have I?”

  “You’re imagining things,” Gloria said. “I don’t resent you and I don’t feel any tension, either.”

  “If you have a personal problem,” I said, “You can always talk to me, if you like. I’m a good listener.”

  “I don’t have a problem,” Gloria said. “And I wish you’d just drop it. I’m just fine.”

  I held both hands up in surrender. “Fine,” I said, and got up from my desk. “I have to go out for a while. I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “Now who’s got a problem?” Gloria said.

  “I’m not the one with the problem,” I said.

  “Then why are you running away?” Gloria said.

  I walked over to her desk just as she was coming around from behind it. I stood nose to nose with her. Neither of us said a word and then a moment later we threw our arms around each other and locked our lips in a long, passionate kiss. When we released a few seconds later, she looked into my eyes briefly and then looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have…”

  “No,” Gloria said. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

  I grabbed her and kissed her again, this time longer. We held onto each other after the kiss and she hugged me tightly. I whispered in her ear, “You realize that this is probably a mistake, don’t you. I mean we’re working together. It could get in the way.”

  Gloria pulled away and looked up at me. “I can separate business from personal,” she said. “I’ll still have your back on the job and I can still do my job without this being a problem. Can you?”

  I thought for a moment. “Yes, I can,” I said. “What do we do now?”

  Gloria smiled. “Just kiss me again, Elliott.”

  And I did. Gloria and I sat on the leather sofa against the wall. I held her hand and she laid her head on my shoulder. I had to admit that she stirred something in me that I hadn’t felt for a long time and I liked it. I wondered what the future would hold for us.

  Gloria raised her head and looked at me. “Why didn’t we connect the first time I worked with you?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I didn’t think it was appropriate or maybe I thought that you might not feel the same way and I didn’t want to risk rejection.”

  “Well,” she said, “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Would you like to take in a movie after work tonight?” I said.

  “No,” Gloria said. “How about if we just catch an old movie on television at my place tonight? There’s a Spielberg movie I’ve been waiting to see.”

  “Really?” I said. “Which one?”

  “It’s called E.T.,” she said. “From the early eighties. It’s about…”

  “Are you kidding?” I said. “I’ve seen that one probably a dozen times or more. It’s my all-time favorite Spielberg movie. Haven’t you seen it yet?”

  “About as many times as you have,” Gloria said. “I never get tired of it.”

  “As you know,” I told Gloria, “I’m a bit of a movie trivia nut.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I do recall something about that.”

  “Did you know that the Mars Candy Company was approached by Spielberg about having an M&Ms product placement in the film?”

  “Product placement?” Gloria said. “What’s that?”

  “That’s where a company’s product is placed conspicuously in a movie, giving it maximum exposure,” I said. “The movie people get paid by the product company to show the product on the screen, almost like a subliminal commercial. In exchange, the product company agrees to promote the film along with its product. They both come out ahead.”

  “And why are you telling me this?” Gloria said.

  “I’m coming to that part,” I said. “Anyway, Spielberg approached M&Ms about having their candy featured in his film and those boneheads at Mars Candy turned him down. I guess they couldn’t believe that any movie about an alien would ever amount to anything special. Can you believe it? So Spielberg went to Mars’ competitor, Hershey and got them to agree to let him use Reese’s Pieces instead of M&Ms to lure E.T. out of the bushes.”

  “I do remember that,” Gloria said. “I thought those were M&Ms. I’ll have to take a closer look this time.”

  “Well,” I went on, “Needless to say, sales of Reese’s Pieces went through the roof and there’s probably a former advertising executive at Mars somewhere who is out of a job. He�
��ll be remembered as the man who turned down product placement in E.T.”

  “Like the man at Decca Records who turned down The Beatles,” Gloria said. “He had his chance and said no, claiming that guitars were on their way out. So Brian Epstein, their manager, took the demo tape to EMI and George Martin signed them up and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “You’re no trivia slouch yourself,” I said.

  “So, it’s my place tonight for a little E.T.?” Gloria said.

  “Perfect,” I said. “What time is it coming on?”

  “Eight o’clock,” Gloria said. “How about if you come over around seven? I can make us dinner before we watch it.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said, smiling warmly at her. “And if we get distracted and miss a little of it, who cares? We both know what’s going to happen.” Right after I said that, I winced and looked away.

  Gloria gave me a quick kiss and stood up, pulling me up with her. “I thought you said you had some errands to run.” she said.

  “Just one,” I said. “It shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll be back in plenty of time to meet with Dean.”

  “I’ll be here waiting,” Gloria said and sat behind my desk.

  I drove home and left my car running in the driveway while I ran inside. In the living room I opened my video cabinet and ran my finger across the DVD titles on the shelf. I stopped in the E section and pulled the DVD off the shelf—E.T. The Extraterrestrial. This is why I’d seen the movie so often. We wouldn’t have to rely on the television schedule or worry about commercial breaks.

  On the way back to the office, I pulled up to the corner where a woman was selling flowers. I called her over to my window and bought one red rose. I paid the woman and tipped her a buck besides. I drove back to the office and pulled into the space in our parking lot. A few seconds later, Dean pulled in right next to my car, got out and walked over to my window. I rolled it down and looked up at him.

  “I wasn’t speeding, officer, honestly,” I said. “And I’m mostly sober.”

  “Cute,” Dean said. “I’ll have to remember that one. Are you going somewhere?”

  “Nope,” I said. “I’m just coming back, and just in time, it looks like. Are you coming up?”

  “Actually,” Dean said. “It might be handier if we drove back to my office. You wanted to see me about some perps, didn’t you?”

 

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