by Bill Bernico
“What is it, Elliott,” Eric said.
“The guy that Harry saw me drive away with,” I said. “He and another guy took me someplace, I don’t know where, and there was a third guy.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know where?” Gloria said. “You know this town like the back of your hand.”
“I do,” I agreed, “but one of them slipped a black bag over my head so I couldn’t see where they were taking me. Now really, I’ve got to get home. Matt could be in danger.”
“I can have a patrol car a lot quicker than you could make it,” Eric said and grabbed his cell phone to call the station. He told the desk sergeant to dispatch a cruiser to my house and suddenly I was breathing easier again. I sat on my leather sofa and exhaled deeply.
Gloria sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Elliott,” she said, “what about Matt?”
“These guys who snatched me said they knew where I lived,” I told her. “They even knew Mrs. Chandler was taking care of Matt.”
“What did they want?” Eric said.
“That’s just it,” I told Eric. “They knew that I’d been subpoenaed and told me when I got up on the stand that I was to tell the prosecutor that I didn’t know anything about the Peterson case. Funny part is, I really don’t know anything. Oscar Peterson was killed before I got a chance to look into his case.”
“Did you recognize the guy in the back of the car?” Eric said.
“Never saw him before,” I said. “I never did get a look at the driver’s face.”
“What about the third guy you mentioned?” Eric said.
“The hood was over my head by the time he came into the picture,” I said. “He did have a gravelly voice, though, I remember that much. And the floor in the place where they took me had a black and white checkerboard pattern to it.”
“How could you tell that with a hood over your head?” Gloria said.
“I couldn’t see around me or in front of me,” I said, “but I could look down and see out of the bottom of the hood. The floor was badly worn, too.” I stood up. “Look, we can talk about all this later. I want to get home and make sure Matt and Mrs. Chandler are all right.”
“Come on,” Eric said. “I’ll drive you both there in my car.”
Gloria and I climbed into the back of Eric’s cruiser and held hands in the back seat as Eric sped through town with his lights flashing and his siren wailing. We made it home in seven minutes and wasted no time climbing out of the car and rushing up to our house.
Mrs. Chandler was in the kitchen when we opened the door and walked in. Startled, she looked over at us and placed her hand over her heart. “My,” she said. “You scared me busting in like that. Is anything the matter?”
“Where’s Matt?” I said, impatiently.
Mrs. Chandler pointed to the living room. “He’s in there, watching television,” she said. “His temperature is back to normal and he should be able to go back to school tomorrow.”
Gloria and I hurried into the living room and breathed easier when we found our six-year-old son enjoying his favorite cartoon DVD. I picked him up and held him tight, kissing his neck. I turned back to Mrs. Chandler. “Has anyone been here today?” I said.
Mrs. Chandler shook her head. “No,” she said. “No one at all. What’s all this about?”
Gloria and I exchanged glances and I turned to Mrs. Chandler. “Mrs. Chandler,” I said. “I’ll be taking Matt back to the office with us for the rest of the day. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and go home?”
“Have I done anything wrong?” she said. “Am I being terminated?”
Gloria hugged our nanny. “Nothing like that,” she told her. “We’ve had a threat today and we’re just being extra cautious, is all. No, we’d never let you go. You’re like part of the family to us. It’s just better if you stay away from our house for a few days until the police can look into this for us. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, either.”
A worried look played on Mrs. Chandler’s face. “Oh my,” she said and grabbed her coat from the coat rack near the kitchen door.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” Eric said to Mrs. Chandler and then turned to me. “Then I’ll drop you three off at your office. Maybe you and I can try to retrace your ride to wherever they took you.”
Gloria, Matt and Mrs. Chandler slid into the back seat of Eric’s cruiser and I slipped into the passenger’s seat up front. Eric pulled to the curb in front of Mrs. Chandler’s house and walked her to her door. I watched as he entered the house with her and waited for her to turn on the lights before he returned to the car. We were all back at the office in another ten minutes.
“Sure you don’t want me to come up and check out the office before we leave?” I said to Gloria.
Gloria patted the hard mass in her purse. “We’ll be fine,” she said. “But try to hurry back, will you, Elliott?”
“I will,” I said and drove out of the parking lot with Eric. He pulled out onto Hollywood Boulevard and immediately headed south on Cahuenga.
“It was about here,” I told Eric, “that the guy in the back seat with me slipped the bag over my head.”
“Do you remember about how far you drove on Cahuenga?” he said.
“I think we were probably doing the speed limit,” I told Eric. “And we probably drove for no more than six or seven minutes before the turned left. I’m sure it was one of the main streets. I could hear lots of traffic.”
Eric turned left on Santa Monica Boulevard. “How long would you say you stayed on this street?” Eric said.
“Just a minute or two,” I said, “and then they turned right and kept going for quite a while before they stopped, I assume for a traffic light.”
“The next light is Melrose,” Eric said. “Where’d they go from there?”
“They turned left again,” I said.
Eric turned left when the light changed. He’d gone about three blocks when I said, “This is too far. They stopped shortly after the last turn. Couldn’t have been more than a block or so. Better turn around and check for side streets.”
As he drove, Eric looked at the street signs. “Well,” he said, “we’ve got Windsor, Plymouth, Beechwood and then Gower picks up again.”
“Would you get back onto Gower?” I said. “And face south again at the light. Then right after you turn, I’ll count ten and see where we end up.”
Eric turned north on Gower again and then turned around in a driveway so he was facing south again. At the light, Eric turned left and I counted to ten. “Stop,” I said. “It was no further than this.” Eric parked the car and we both got out to look over the neighborhood. The building closest to the car was a beauty shop. We walked by it, looking through the window. The floor was carpeted so we moved on.
Next door to the beauty shop stood a second-hand store, whose floor consisted of old, worn planks of some light-colored wood. We didn’t bother going inside this place either. We moved on toward the corner. The second building from the corner housed a small tavern, sandwiched between the buildings on either side of it. We couldn’t see inside so Eric opened the front door and glanced around the room. The floor looked to be covered in a speckled pattern linoleum.
“That’s not it,” I said.
“What about the place on the corner? Eric said. “Could that have been it?”
“We may never know for sure,” I said. “Looks like it’s a vacant building. The place is boarded up on the street side.”
“Let’s go around the other side,” Eric said. “The side that faces Beechwood.”
Once around the corner we could see that there were three windows, all boarded up and a door that wasn’t. Eric tried the doorknob and it turned freely. He pushed the door open and cautiously stepped inside, his service revolver drawn. I followed close behind him, my own .38 now an extension of my hand. Just inside the door was an old sofa pushed up against the far wall. The floor sported a worn checkerboard pattern.
/> “This could be the place,” I said. “Same floor pattern and there’s a sofa.” I looked at the floor directly in front of the sofa and nudged Eric in the arm. I pointed to the scuff mark I’d made earlier. “And there’s my mark. This is the place.”
“I’ll have records pull up the registered owner’s name,” Eric said. “Hopefully that may lead us to the guy who brought you here.”
I pulled out my cell phone, flipped it open and pointed the camera lens at the room, taking four pictures of the area, including a close-up of the scuff mark I’d made. Eric and I got back into his car and he drove me back to my office.
“You sure you don’t want me to put a couple of men on you until Monday?” Eric said.
I waved him off. “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Whoever took me thinks that I’ll dummy up in court anyway. And they’re right. I can’t tell the court what I don’t know.”
“Maybe you know something and you just don’t know you know,” Eric said. “Either way, while you’re testifying in court, I’ll have men keeping an eye on Gloria and Matt. No one will get to them.”
“Eric,” I said, “could you put another man on Mrs. Chandler?”
“Your nanny?” Eric said. “You think they’d try to get to you through her?”
“I shook my head. “I just don’t know,” I said. “But they knew her name and I’d feel terrible if anything happened to her because of me.”
“You got it, buddy,” Eric said. “Now get upstairs and go spend some quality time with your wife and son.”
I slid out of the passenger seat, closed the car door and leaned over the window. “Thanks, Eric,” I said. “I really…” Eric pulled away in mid-sentence.
When I got to my third floor office, the door was locked. I knocked and said, “Gloria, it’s me. Open the door.”
Gloria opened the door and threw her arms around my neck. Matt came running up to me and wrapped his little arms around my legs. I tried walking toward the sofa, but it was like I was in the slowest potato sack race ever with Matt clinging to me. Gloria released her grip on me and I bent down to pick up my son. The three of us settled into the sofa.
“Well?” Gloria said. “What did you find?”
“We found the place,” I said. “I got some photos of it in case it comes down to proof. Eric’s looking into the owner of the building and said he’d let me know. All I can do now is wait and show up in court Monday. He’s going to have a couple of men watching you and Matt and one on Mrs. Chandler until this thing is over.”
Gloria sighed. “Thank goodness,” she said. “What are we supposed to do about going home in the meantime?”
“It should be all right,” I said. “There’ll be two officers outside the house all weekend. We’ll get through this okay.” I pulled Matt close to me and wrapped my other arm around Gloria’s shoulder.
We managed to get through the weekend without incident and when Monday morning rolled around, I dressed in my best suit and tie and wore my black leather shoes polished to a high gloss shine. Gloria and Matt came with me and sat in the visitor’s gallery.
Judge Parker banged his gavel once and the room fell silent. The bailiff called the room to order and then read from his clipboard. “The defense calls Elliott Cooper to the stand,” he announced.
I rose from my seat and stepped through the swing gate that separated the gallery from the lawyer’s tables. I stepped up to the witness stand and was sworn in before I sat waiting for the questions that both sides had for me. When I looked back toward the gallery I saw Gloria sitting next to Matt. Matt waved his little hand and smiled innocently. Seated at the defendant’s table was a woman that I assumed to be Doris Peterson. Her lawyer was a man I was familiar with. His name was Ryan Manners. District Attorney William Knight and his assistant sat at the opposite table.
Attorney Manners took his place in front of the witness stand and looked into my eyes. “Would you state your name and occupation for the court, please,” Manners said.
“Elliott Cooper,” I replied. “I own and operate Cooper Investigations here in Hollywood.”
“Mr. Cooper,” Manners continued, “Are you acquainted with my client, Mrs. Doris Peterson?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never met her,” I said, not willing to offer any additional information without being asked.
“You’ve never met my client,” Manners said. “Were you acquainted with Oscar Peterson, the defendant’s husband?”
“Yes, I was,” I said.
“Would you tell the court in what capacity you knew the deceased, Mr. Cooper?” Manners said and then turned to face the jury.
I cleared my throat and took a sip of water from the glass that sat before me. “Several months ago Oscar Peterson hired me to follow his wife.”
“You were hired to follow Doris Peterson?” Manners said. “What reason Did Mr. Peterson give you for following her?”
“Mr. Peterson suspected his wife of being unfaithful,” I said. “I was hired to confirm his suspicions.”
“Objection, your honor,” Manners said. “Hearsay.”
D.A. Knight stood and raised his hand. “Your honor,” he said, “I have a cancelled check made out to Mr. Cooper by Mr. Peterson that proves he hired the private eye.”
Manners turned to the judge. “Your honor,” he said. “I don’t dispute that Mr. Peterson wrote Mr. Cooper a check. I am objecting to the witness telling this court what the deceased expected for his payment. He’s not here to confirm or deny it and there were no witnesses to the meeting between Mr. Cooper and Mr. Peterson. That check could have been for any number of services.”
“Sustained,” Judge Parker said.
Manners stepped away from the witness stand. “No further questions at this time, your honor.” He sat behind his table again and whispered something to Doris Peterson.
“Your witness, Mr. Knight,” the judge said.
William Knight stepped up to the witness stand and rested his hands on the rail in front of me. “Mr. Cooper,” he said. “Was anyone else present during your meeting with Mr. Peterson?”
I looked at Gloria momentarily and then back at Knight. “No, sir,” I said.
“And where did this meeting take place?” Knight said.
“In my office on Hollywood Boulevard,” I said.
“Can you tell the court who was present in your office when Mr. Peterson arrived?” Knight said.
I looked at Gloria again and paused. Knight repeated his question.
“My wife, Gloria Cooper was in the office with me when Mr. Peterson arrived,” I said. “But he wanted to speak to me in private so my wife left the office and didn’t return until the meeting was concluded.”
“Did you tell your wife what the purpose of that meeting was?” Knight said.
“Yes,” I said.
“And what did she say?” Knight asked.
“Irrelevant,” Attorney Manners said, raising one finger in the air. “Hearsay.”
“Sustained,” Judge Parker said.
Knight turned away from me. “No further questions, your honor,” he said and took his seat again.
The judge turned to me. “The witness may step down,” he said and then turned back to the defense. “Call your next witness.”
“The defense rests, your honor,” Manners said.
Judge Parker turned to the prosecution table. “Your witness, Mr. Knight” he said.
Knight had exhausted his witnesses during the first six days of testimony. “The prosecution rests, your honor,” he said with a long face.
The judge shuffled a few papers on his bench and then announced, “This court is adjourned until one-thirty. He banged his gavel and rose from the bench.
The bailiff faced the courtroom and declared, “All rise.” The judge retired to his chambers, closed the door and everyone in the courtroom sat again, with the exception of several reporters who hurried out to the lobby to phone in their stories.
I held out my hand and Gloria took it as the th
ree of us walked out of the courtroom and into the lobby where Lieutenant Eric Anderson was waiting. I shook my head when I saw him. “That was a big waste of time,” I said. “They disallowed almost everything I said. They needn’t have bothered calling me at all.”
“Well,” Eric sad, “we’re not licked yet. We still have two and a half hours to come up with something we can use.”
“Do I need to come back after lunch?” I said.
“I’m afraid so, Elliott,” Eric said. “I think we can wrap this thing up one way or the other this afternoon. Besides, either side could decide to recall you to the stand. You’d better stick around for a while yet, Elliott.”
Gloria and I each held one of Matt’s hands and exited the courthouse. I drove them to the coffee shop on Sunset and we took a booth. Matt had a grilled cheese and chocolate milk. Gloria and I each ordered a hamburger and split an order of fries. We took our time with lunch and still had almost an hour before we were due back in court.
“Elliott,” Gloria said, “It just occurred to me that you showed me a photo of some woman shortly after you met with Oscar Peterson. Who was that?”
I smiled. “That’s right,” I said. “Oscar gave me a photo of Doris along with her address. I filed those things away after he was killed. I’ll bet they’re still in the filing cabinet. I’ll stop by there and get them.”
I drove back to the office and went directly to my filing cabinet. Although actual case files were stored on the computer, incidental documents and photos were still kept in the filing cabinet. I found the Peterson folder right away and withdrew Oscar’s handwritten directions along with the Palm Springs address. Doris Peterson’s photo was in there, too. I slipped both of these into my shirt pocket and locked the office again. When I stepped onto the elevator another man was standing in the back of the car. I nodded to him and pressed the button for the lobby.
The car began to descend when I felt something hard pressed into my back. I froze where I stood.
“Just stand still,” the deep voice behind me said.
His free hand patted me down and found no weapons. I couldn’t wear my .38 in court and it was still hanging on the coat rack in my office. He missed the photo and slip of paper in my shirt pocket. The man leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Mr. Cooper,” he said. “You were warned once before about saying nothing in court.”