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

by Bill Bernico

  On one of the side streets in downtown Las Vegas a meter maid was making the round in her white Cushman scooter. As she rounded the corner, she spotted a white Toyota Corolla illegally parked in front of a fire hydrant. She pulled up directly behind the car and got out of her scooter. She pulled out her ticket book and began writing out a ticket. When she got halfway finished with the ticket, two men emerged from one of the casinos and approached the car.

  “We’re leaving,” one of the men told the meter maid. “You can stop writing now.”

  “I’m issuing you a citation for illegally parking in front of that fire hydrant,” she said, and kept writing.

  One of the men opened the car door with the key while the other man snuck up behind the meter maid and slugged her on the head with the handgun he’d been carrying. The meter maid fell over onto the sidewalk and the two men hopped into the Corolla and sped away. A couple coming out of that same casino spotted the meter maid on the ground and rushed to her side. She couldn’t have been hit nearly as hard as the Corolla’s original owner had been because she never lost consciousness. The couple helped her sit up and she grabbed the microphone on her lapel and called into the station house downtown.

  “Dispatch,” she said. “This is officer Treadwell on Fremont Street. I need backup immediately. Officer down. Two men left the scene in a white Toyota Corolla sedan.” She gave dispatch the license number.

  “Stay where you are, Officer Treadwell,” dispatch said. “We have backup and an ambulance on the way.”

  Twelve blocks away the white Toyota ran a red light. A motorcycle cop fell in behind them, his red light and siren wailing. The Toyota wasn’t pulling over. The cop grabbed his mic.

  “This is Officer Gilmore in pursuit of a white Toyota sedan, requesting assistance.” He gave the license number and his location.

  In less than a minute two additional patrol cars joined in the chase. Together they managed to chase the car onto a dead end street. The two men emerged from the car and started shooting at the officers. All five policemen returned fire, killing one of the men instantly. The other assailant refused to give up and kept firing on the police. A barrage of bullets riddled the car as well as the assailant. One of the bullets hit the gas tank and the Corolla was engulfed in a ball of flames in a matter of seconds. The cops couldn’t get near the vehicle and the wounded gunman died in the flames. All things considered, his partner was the lucky one. He didn’t have to roast alive.

  The fire department arrived several minutes later and extinguished the blaze. Police surrounded the Toyota and looked down at the two gunmen’s charred bodies. Motorcycle officer Gilmore holstered his .38 and let out a deep breath. “What a waste,” he said.

  “Waste?” one of the other cops said. “They had it coming, both of them.

  “Not them,” Gilmore said, “the car.” He leaned in to look at the dashboard of the Toyota. “What a waste. It’s this year’s model and it only has four hundred miles on the clock.”

  The patrol car officers had to agree. Within two hours, the entire scene had been cleaned up and the only indication that anything had happened there at all was a dark burn spot on the pavement.

  Dispatch checked the license number against their hot sheet and found that this was the Toyota that the State Police were looking for. The Las Vegas Police called Lieutenant Anderson in Los Angeles to let him know that they had the white Toyota that the L.A.P.D. had been looking for. They gave Eric the details of the night’s events, including the death of the two gunmen.

  “Any trace of the car’s owner?” Eric said. “We’re still looking for Elliott Cooper.”

  “Nope,” the Nevada State Trooper replied. “Just the two who apparently stole the car in the first place. We’re still trying to locate Mr. Cooper.”

  “Thank you very much,” Anderson said. “We appreciate your efforts and please let us know if you find Mr. Cooper.”

  Eric hung up the phone and dialed Gloria. She answered before the first ring had had time to finish ringing.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice a bit frazzled.

  “Gloria, it’s Lieutenant Anderson again,” Eric said. “Las Vegas police have found Elliott’s car in the city.” He explained the circumstances surrounding the events of the past two hours. “Elliott wasn’t in the car and it’s just as well, in this case. Everyone’s still looking for him so don’t give up hope.”

  “Thank you so much, Eric, for keeping me in the loop,” Gloria said. “I just wish this whole thing was over and Elliott was back home, safe again.”

  *****

  I spent the night on the couch, wracking my brain for more clues to my real identity. Frustration was driving me mad and I had to try to find out who I was and where I belonged. I ran scenarios though my mind until I finally drifted off. I woke Wednesday morning to the sounds of bacon frying in the kitchen. I threw the blanket off me and stood up, my bare feet cold again. Jane was standing at the stove, frying the bacon in one pan and four eggs in the other. She smiled as I approached.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked, scooping up the eggs and depositing them on two plates. She patted the bacon between sheets of paper towels and added them to the plates.

  “As well as can be expected,” I said. “I’m feeling much better than I did this time yesterday, thanks to you.”

  “And have you remembered anything more, Eddie?” Jane said.

  “That’s just it,” I said. “When I woke up this morning, it was like someone threw a switch in my head. Like I told you yesterday, I knew my name wasn’t Eddie, but I still didn’t know what it really was.”

  “And do you this morning?” Jane said.

  “Remember yesterday when you went over that list of names that started with E on your computer?” I said.

  “Yes,” Jane replied.

  “And when I heard you say Elliott,” I said, “I thought it was familiar because of those audio tapes I listened to in the car. You know, the ones narrated by Elliott Gould.”

  “What about it?” Jane said.

  “It was familiar for two reasons,” I said. “The audio book narrator and me. My name is Elliott, I’m sure of it.”

  “What about your last name?” Jane said. “Any clues there?”

  “Well,” I said, “Remember that war movie we watched yesterday? I asked you who the star was and you said Gary Cooper.”

  “I remember,” Jane said. “You thought for a minute there that your first name might be Gary.”

  “I know,” I said. “The the real familiar part of that was the last name. My last name is Cooper. It came to me the minute I woke up on that couch. I’m Elliott Cooper and my wife’s name was indeed Campbell. Her name is Gloria and we’re going to have a baby in the next month. We live in Hollywood and we’re both private investigators. Oh, I feel so relieved that I remember everything again. I can go home now and get on with my life.”

  Jane’s face dropped a bit. “I know,” she said. “I knew sooner or later you’d remember and you’d be on your way again. Almost reminds me of a dog I had when I was a kid.”

  “I remind you of a dog?” I said. “That’s flattering.”

  “It’s not so much you, as the situation,” Jane explained. “This stray dog followed me home after school and my mom said I could keep it. That was one fine dog, let me tell you. Anyway, two weeks later the real owner showed up and I had to give up my best friend, Steve.”

  I laughed. “You have a thing for dogs named Steve, don’t you?” I said. I’m sorry, but you know I can’t really stay, don’t you? My owner is looking for me, too, and she’s probably out of her mind by now. Could you take me back after we finish breakfast? I know it’s a pretty long distance, but I’ll be glad to pay you for your gas and your time.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Jane said. “I’ll be glad to drive you home. I have never been to Hollywood. I’ve always wanted to see it, I just never got around to it. I don’t know why.”

  “Well, tonight you’ll be our guest f
or dinner anyplace you want,” I said. “I can even give you the fifty cent tour of the town. Please let us do this for you.”

  Jane smiled. “All right,” she said. “Do you think we could eat at The Brown Derby? I’ve always heard that movie stars hang out there.”

  “Jane,” I said. “I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but The Brown Derby was torn down years ago and replaced with some other building. Sorry. Anyplace else you’d like to eat?”

  “I’ll just leave it up to you,” Jane said. “It’s your town, after all.” She pulled a six-pack of soda from the refrigerator and set it in a small cooler, pouring ice cubes over it. “This ought to get us to Hollywood,” she said.

  Before she got into the car, Jane uncoiled a length of her garden hose and filled Steve’s water bowl. She poured some dog food from a large bag into another bowl and put the bag out of Steve’s reach. I was already sitting in her passenger seat when she got in and started the car. She pulled out of her driveway and headed back toward Interstate Fifteen.

  On the way back to Hollywood I turned to Jane and said, “Listen, Jane, about what happened at your place yesterday.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Eddie, er, I mean Elliott,” Jane said. “What happens in the middle of nowhere, stays in the middle of nowhere.” She smiled at me and I had to laugh at the absurdity of the statement.

  “Thank you so much for everything,” I said, “especially for your discretion. I wouldn’t want to knowingly do anything to jeopardize what I have with my family.”

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Jane said, and drove on toward Los Angeles.

  By the time we got to Barstow, the temperature gauge in Jane’s car was climbing into the red. She pulled into the same filling station where I’d been carjacked. We’d both drunk a bottle of soda on the way here and the empty bottles were still lying on the floor in the back. Jane took both bottles into the mini mart part of the filling station and filled them with water from the restroom sink. When she came back to the car, I had the hood open and the radiator cap off. The radiator was steaming and hissed as she poured the water from the soda bottles into the opening. She made one more trip to the restroom and two more bottles of water later, the radiator was full again and the steam had ceased.

  Jane got back behind the wheel and turned her car around, aiming it back toward the street. As she was pulling out of the filling station, a familiar car was pulling into it. It was as if my head was on a swivel, the way it automatically spun around to look at the other driver.

  “Stop,” I said to Jane. “Quick, turn around.”

  “What is it, Elliott?” she said.

  “I think that was my dad in that car that just passed by us,” I said. “Go back.”

  Jane threw the car into reverse and backed into the parking area again. As soon as she stopped, I hopped out of the car and hurried over to the other car, just as Dad emerged. He looked at me and then looked away and then did a double-take, turning back to me again.

  “Elliott?” he said, not believing who he was seeing. “Is that really you?” He threw his arms around me and held on tight for a moment. When he released me, he stepped back to get a full-length look at me. “Are you all right, son?”

  “I will be,” I said, “as soon as I can get back home and get something on my feet again.”

  Dad looked down at my bare feet. “What the hell?” he said.

  “It’s a long story,” I told him.

  At that moment Jane walked up to us and stopped.

  “Can I help you?” Dad said to Jane.

  “No, Dad,” I said. “This is Jane. She saved my life, really. I don’t know what would have happened to me if she hadn’t come along when she did.” I turned to Jane and gestured. “Jane Fletcher, I’d like you to meet my father, Clay Cooper.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you, Mr. Cooper,” Jane said, extending her hand. “You have a fine son there.”

  Dad took her hand and grasped it with both of his, shaking it vigorously. “Thank you so much for helping Elliott,” Dad said. “We’ve all been worried sick about him. Wherever did you find him?”

  Suddenly it dawned on me—Gloria. “Dad,” I said. “Let me have your phone, please. I have to call Gloria right away.”

  “Of course,” Dad said and handed me his cell phone.

  I stepped away from Dad and Jane so I could have a little privacy. My hands shook as I dialed the number. It only rang once before I heard Gloria’s sweet voice.

  “Clay is that you?” Gloria said. “Have you heard anything about Elliott?”

  “It’s me, Gloria,” I said. “It’s Elliott.”

  Gloria broke down and sobbed. I kept calling her name but she didn’t answer right away. A moment later she got back on the phone. “Elliott, are you all right?” she said.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, “as soon as I’m back home again. How are you doing? Is everything all right with you and the baby?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice hurried. “Just fine, but tell me about you. What happened?”

  “I’m here in Barstow with Dad and Jane,” I said. “We can talk about this whole thing when I get home.”

  “Jane?” Gloria said. “Who is Jane?”

  “She’s the woman who found me on the road and saved my life,” I said. “It’s too long a story to tell you over the phone. But Jane’s driving me home and I told her we’d take her out to dinner on us. Do you feel up to a dinner out tonight?”

  “Does it have to be tonight?” Gloria said. “I just want you all to myself tonight.”

  “You wouldn’t have me at all if it wasn’t for Jane,” I said. “Besides, she’ll be driving back tonight after dinner.”

  “Nonsense,” Gloria said. “She can stay overnight with us. I’ll be glad to have her. Just hurry and get home, will you?”

  “We should be there in two hours or so,” I said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Elliott,” Gloria said. “Drive safely.” Gloria hung up the phone.

  I closed Dad’s cell phone and walked back over to where he was talking to Jane. I handed him back his phone and thanked him. “I talked to Gloria,” I said. “I told her I’d be back in two hours. Maybe we should get moving.”

  “I’ve been talking to Jane,” Dad said. “I know this woman. Well, I don’t personally know her, but I’ve read her humor column several times. What a sense of humor this woman has. You should read it some time.”

  “You can bet I will,” I said, “from now on. By the way, Dad, why did you stop in here just now?”

  Dad reached into his car and produced a VHS tape and held it up. “I have to return the tape to these folks. I was here yesterday and sort of borrowed it. The Las Vegas Police already have a copy so I figured the least I could do is give this one back to the guy who gave it to me. You’re on it, you know.”

  “Me?” I said.

  “You and those two punks who took you and your car,” Dad said. “Don’t worry, they’re both dead.”

  Jane and I exchanged a glance. I looked back at Dad. “And what about my car?”

  Dad looked at the pavement and then glanced back up at me. “Remember your last car?” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Well it’s in better shape than your new one,” Dad said. “Sorry, but the police riddled it with bullets and hit the gas tank. It’s toast.”

  I don’t know what struck me funny about it, but I burst out in laughter and couldn’t stop.

  “What’s so funny?” Dad said.

  “My insurance man is gonna shit,” I said.

  “That’s why you have it,” Dad reminded me. “You needed a bigger car anyway. Come on, let’s go home.”

  Elliott,” Jane said, “would you mind driving my car the rest of the way?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Did you want to catch a few winks on the way back?”

  “Actually,” Dad said, “I asked her to ride with me, if you don’t mind. I want to pick her brain about some
of her columns. I figured maybe I could pick up some writing tips. My legacy can’t just be one stinkin’ cook book, now can it?”

  I smiled at Jane. “By the time you get to Hollywood,” I said, “you’ll wish you’d stayed in your own car. Dad’s a talker.”

  “And I’m a good listener,” Jane said, and followed Dad back to his car. He pulled out of the lot and I followed close behind. We hit the on ramp for Interstate Fifteen and headed back to Hollywood.

  It was nearly noon when we pulled into Hollywood and found two parking spaces behind my building. Dad and Jane were already out of his car by the time I parked Jane’s car. The two of them were laughing and she was holding Dad’s arm as they walked. I guess it didn’t take her as long to get over me as I thought.

  We all rode the elevator to the third floor and walked to the end of the hall. I held up a hand, so Dad and Jane would wait in the hall until I had a chance to greet Gloria. I opened my office door just as Gloria looked up from her laptop. Her face broke out in a wide smile and she ran to me and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. Then she broke down and cried. I let her get it all out of her system and compose herself before I opened the office door again and let Dad and Jane come in.

  I gestured toward Jane. “Jane Fletcher, “I said, “I’d like you to meet my wife, Gloria. Gloria this is Jane.”

  Gloria wrapped her arms around Jane and pulled her close. “Thank you, thank you so much for helping Elliott,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if anything had happened to him.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Jane said. “Eddie was a real gentleman.” She winked at me in a way so Gloria didn’t catch it. I breathed easier now.

  “Eddie?” Gloria said. “Who is Eddie?”

  I explained briefly to Gloria about getting hit on the head and temporarily losing my memory. I told her how Jane had just ventured a guess as to my name, based on the initials on my shirt.

  Gloria got a kick out of that. She turned to me and said, “Well, you’re back home now, Eddie.”

  “You’re going to have to go car shopping again,” Dad told Gloria. “That’s a long story, too, and I think we’d better save any further discussion for dinner tonight. And we have a lot to talk about.”