by Bill Bernico
“Well, Bud for starters,” she said. “I hear you talk about him all the time and I’ve even spoken with him on the phone when I call the office, but I haven’t met him yet. I’d like to see if he measures up to the mental picture I’ve created of him. I’m also curious about the man who’s sitting at my desk these days.”
“When would you like to do this?” I said.
“Any night this week would work for me,” Gloria said. “Check with him and see when he’s available.”
“I’ll do that this morning,” I said. “I’ll call you when I find out.”
“Good,” she said. “And would you also ask Eric if he could stop by? You mentioned that he met a woman in your office more than a month ago but you didn’t mention if he’s still seeing her. If he is, I’d like to meet her.”
“Leslie Swanson? Oh, he’s still seeing her, all right,” I said. “You should see the difference in his personality these days. You’d never know it was the same rough and tough Lieutenant from the L.A.P.D. that you once knew. She’s got him housebroken already.”
“Well, it’s about time,” Gloria said. “He’s getting too old to still be playing the field.”
“Old?” I said, feigning insult. “He’s seventeen days younger than me.”
“Maybe,” Gloria said, “But then you’re not playing the field, either. At least you better not be.”
“Not me,” I said. “I like it where I am. Look, I have to get going. I can’t very well insist that Bud get to work on time if I can’t make it. I have an example to set. I’ll call you after I ask them both.” I kissed Gloria and drove to work.
I parked in the lot behind our building and made a dash for the elevator. “Hold the door, please,” I said, running toward the car. Someone stuck their hand between the doors and it stopped closing and opened fully again. It was Bud in the elevator. “Thanks, Bud,” I said, stepping in and turning around to face the doors.
“Morning, Elliott,” Bud said. “Looks like it going to be a hot one today. Why are you still wearing a coat?”
“I always bring a coat to work,” I said. “I don’t wear it all day, but in case I have to call on some serious money, I like to dress the part. That’s the same reason why I keep an extra tie in my desk.”
The elevator opened and the two of us stepped out into the hallway. We walked to the end of the hall where my office was located. I fished around in my pocket for the keys, but Bud already had his in the lock. As soon as I got inside, I shed the coat, hung it on the coat rack and rolled up my sleeves. The answering machine light was blinking and the LED indicator showed that I had two messages waiting.
“Gonna be one of those days, is it?” I said. “There might actually be enough work to go around for both of us today.”
“Good,” Bud said. “I was feeling a little stifled around here lately. I’d be grateful for something to do.”
“Careful what you wish for,” I said. “You could end up with another case like you had two weeks ago.”
“Oh gees,” Bud said. “I hope this isn’t another surveillance case where I have to be staked out and watch the neighbor’s dog when it craps on our client’s lawn. Who hires a private eye for that kind of work anyway?”
“Someone who’s proud of their lawn,” I said. “By the way, I was talking to Gloria this morning and she’s feeling a lot better now and wonders when you’ll have time to stop by the house so she can finally meet you and you can see the new baby.”
“I’m wide open,” Bud said. “Make it easy on yourself.”
“Great,” I said. “That’ll make it easier for me after I ask Eric and Leslie when they’re free. You know, Gloria said she had a mental picture of what you might look like. This’ll be her chance to see how close she came.”
“That’s right,” Bud said. “We’ve never met. We spoke on the phone a couple times but never face to face. A mental picture, you say? Looks like I have the advantage. I know what she looks like.”
“How? I said.
Bud gestured with his chin toward the framed photo that sat on the shelf behind my desk.
I turned to look at it. “Oh, right,” I said. “But you haven’t see Olivia yet.”
“But I do have a mental picture of how she looks,” Bud said. “I’m picturing eighteen inches of pudgy pink flesh with a little wisp of blonde hair on top, stubby fingers with a fluffy white outfit and tiny white shoes. How’d I do?”
“Perfect,” I said. “You just described every baby in the world.”
“Can I bring something?” Bud said.
I shook my head. “Just yourself,” I said, “and your wife, if you like.”
“Oh, Emily would love to see the baby,” Bud said. “Let me give her a quick call and see when she’s available before you call Eric.”
Before I could call Eric my phone rang, startling me. I turned and picked it up. “Cooper Investigations,” I said. “This is Elliott Cooper.”
“Mr. Cooper,” the voice on the other end said. “Did you get the message I left on your machine?”
“Excuse me,” I said, “who am I speaking to?”
“This is Marty Alden,” he said. “I called earlier and left a message.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Alden,” I said. “I just walked in the office and haven’t listened to my messages yet. How can I help you today?”
“I’d rather not discuss this on the phone,” Alden said. “Could I come to your office this morning? It’s really important that I see you as soon as possible.”
“Do you know where we’re located, Mr. Alden?” I said.
“Sure,” Alden replied. “Hollywood near Cahuenga.”
“Third floor in the back,” I said. “What time do you figure?”
“Half an hour all right with you, Mr. Cooper?” he said.
I told him that would be fine and hung up. I turned to Bud. “He’ll be here in thirty minutes,” I said. “That’ll give me time to listen to the other message. I’ll even let you take your pick of which one you want.”
“How can I choose when I don’t know what either case is about yet?” Bud said.
“Well let’s listen to the messages,” I said and pressed the play button.
The message machine beeped and a familiar voice said, “Hello, Mr. Cooper? This is Marty Alden. Could you call me as soon as you get this message?” He left the phone number where I could reach him. The machine beeped a second time and a female voice said, “Uh, hello, I, um, I want to talk to someone about hiring a private detective. My name is Shelley.” She read off a phone number where she could be reached and hung up. The machined beeped a third time and the mechanical voice announced that there were no more messages.
“Okay,” I said. “You have a fifty-fifty chance of getting the better of the two cases. Which one do you want?”
“And you’re good with this?” Bud said. “I mean, you’ll be satisfied with the one I don’t pick?”
“Better make up your mind fast,” I said. “Marty Alden will be here in twenty minutes. While we’re waiting I’d better give Eric a call. You think it over and let me know by the time I hang up with Eric.”
Bud took his seat at his desk and I called Eric with Gloria’s invitation. The call took me less than two minutes. I hung up and turned to Bud. “So,” I said. “Which one will it be? Do you want Shelley’s problem or maybe Marty’s? Or, do you want to see what’s behind door number three?”
“Huh?” Bud said.
“What?” I said, “You never watched Let’s Make A Deal? Monty Hall was one of my favorite game show hosts.”
“Daytime TV?” Bud said. “Are you kidding? What a vast wasteland that is. No, I never watch television anymore. At least not network television. Everything I like is on cable.”
“Well, I learn something new every day,” I said. Our conversation was cut short by the sounds of footsteps coming down the hall toward the office. I turned back to Bud. “Better make up your mind in the next five seconds. It’ll be too late once Marty
sets foot in this office.”
“I’ll take Marty,” Bud said. “You can have Shelley. Something tells me her case would be frivolous.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at Bud. “Marty it is,” I said. “On deck.” I took my seat behind my desk and put the phone to my ear while Bud opened the door for our guest.
The man walked in looked Bud over. “Mr. Cooper?” he said, extending his hand. “My name is Marty Alden.”
“Mr. Cooper is tied up at the moment,” Bud said. “My name is Mr. Burke. I can help you. Won’t you have a seat at my desk?”
Marty sat across from Bud. Bud pulled out a yellow legal pad and pencil and looked at Marty. “Now,” Bud said. “How can we help you, Mr. Alden?”
“Well,” Marty said. “I live over on Las Palmas Avenue near Santa Monica. I have a house and a manicured yard with lots of bushes.”
“That’s nice,” Bud said, “But how does that relate to the problem that brought you here to us?”
“I’m getting to that,” Marty said. “These last few weeks I’ve been noticing broken branches on some of my bushes and this morning I found bicycle tire tracks across my lawn. Those neighborhood kids are ruining my landscaping and I want them stopped.”
I laughed and then quickly covered it with a cough and then hung up my phone. I cleared my throat and pretended to be busy with paperwork, all the while listening to Marty’s problem.
“How do you know it’s the neighborhood kids doing this?” Bud said, trying to sound sympathetic.
“It has to be,” Marty said. “Only kids would ride across someone’s lawn with their bicycle.
“And what is it you’d like me to do for you, Mr. Alden?” Bud said, laying his pencil down on the yellow pad.
“I’d like you to stake out my house and catch those little bastards in the act,” Marty said. “I’ve got too much time and money invested in my landscaping to see it ruined.”
“You realize that we get two hundred dollars a day for our time,” Bud said. “It could end up costing you more than it would to repair the damage.”
“I don’t care,” Marty said. “It’s the principle of the thing now. And when you catch them in the act, I can make them pay restitution for whatever they ruined.”
“Good luck,” Bud said. “If they are minors, you can’t go after them legally. Their parents should be responsible for the actions of their children, but let me tell you, after having been a policemen for twenty years I know from experience that trying to get irresponsible parents to keep their irresponsible kids in line in a frustrating experience.”
“Mr. Burke,” Marty said. “Maybe I should take my business to a firm that wants to help me. You obviously don’t.” Marty stood and turned toward the door.
Bud stood up and held up one hand. “Wait a minute, Mr. Alden,” he said. “I’ll be glad to help you with your problem. I just wanted you to be aware of what you’re up against. When would you like me to stake out your house?”
Marty calmed down and exhaled. “I usually find the most damage on Sunday mornings,” he said. “So Saturday night is probably when they’re over there vandalizing my yard. Can you start at sundown this Saturday?”
“Sure,” Mr. Alden,” Bud said. “Have a seat and we’ll make out a standard contract for our services. Bud spent the next ten minutes filling out the contract, explaining its contents to Marty and getting his signature. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Alden,” Bud said, walking him to the door. “We’ll get to the bottom of this for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burke,” Marty said and left the office.
Bud turned to me and opened his mouth but I held up one hand. “Wait,” I said, listening for the footsteps to fade away down the hall. When I heard the elevator door closed, Bud and I simultaneously broke out in laughter. “You picked him,” I said. You could have had Shelley.”
“Well,” Bud said, “Whatever her problem is, it has to be more exciting than the case of the lawn vandals. You going to call her now?”
“You bet,” I said. “Let’s just see what kind of trouble Shelley is in.” I dialed the number and waited. A voice came on the line after just one ring.
“Hello,” a woman’s voice said.
“Is this Shelley?” I said.
“Uh huh,” Shelley said. “Who’s this?”
“Shelley,” I said. “This is Elliott Cooper. I had a message to call you about a problem you’re having. How can I help you?”
“Elliott Cooper?” Shelley said. “Do I know you?”
“Excuse me,” I said. “This is Cooper Investigations. You called here about wanting to hire a private detective.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Cooper,” she said. “I’d forgotten the name of your business, that’s all. Yes, I do want to hire a private detective. Can you meet with me?”
“Can you first give me some idea what this is all about?” I said.
“It’s my boyfriend,” she said. “He’s being held by some men who want money from me.”
I sat up straight in my chair. “Shelley,” I said. “You should be talking to the police, not a private investigator.”
“No,” Shelley almost screamed into the phone. “They told me if I called the police that they’d kill him. Besides, I can’t call the police or they’ll arrest Artie.”
“Why on earth would the police arrest Artie?” I said. “He’s the victim, unless he’s involved with some sort of illegal activity. Is that it, Shelley?”
She went silent for a moment. “Yes,” she said in a weak voice. “Now could we meet, Mr. Cooper?”
“Of course,” I said. “Where would you like to meet me?”
“Someplace where we wouldn’t be seen,” she said. “They told me they were watching me.”
“Can you hold for just a minute?” I said, and put Shelley’s call on hold. I turned to Bud. “Got a touchy situation going on here. I can use your expertise.” I briefly explained Shelley’s situation to him and he thought about it for just a few seconds before he responded.
“Maybe I should go with you,” Bud said, “and explain this girl’s options to her. This isn’t as cut and dried as she might want to make it. Besides, she may have some legal questions that you haven’t come across before.”
“Just what I was thinking,” I said. “Hang on a second.”
I got back on the line with Shelley and said, “Shelley, I was talking to my partner about your problem and we were thinking it might be best if we didn’t meet anywhere in public. Here’s what I’d like to do. Where are you now?”
“I’m at home,” Shelley said.
“Give me that address,” I told her. She told me where she lived. I knew the neighborhood. “I can be there in ten minutes, but I won’t come to your house. I want you to walk to the corner. There’s a shoe store there called Save Rite. You know it?”
She said she did.
I looked at my watch. It was nine-thirty. “Walk to the corner and go inside the shoe store. At exactly nine forty-five leave by the back door. I’ll be waiting in the alley in a van. I’ll pick you up there and we can drive someplace safe to talk.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper,” Shelley said and hung up.
I looked at Bud. “It’s nothing as exciting as lawn vandals,” I said, “but it’ll have to do until something more adventurous comes along. Let’s go.”
Bud locked the office and we hurried down to my van. I had chosen a van over a car so that I could customize it with the latest in surveillance equipment. Besides the two front bucket seats, I had one single seat attached to the floor facing the shelf that ran the length of the body. The shelf held monitors and cameras and other surveillance toys that occasionally came in handy.
I drove south on Vine to Fountain. It was nine forty-four when I turned into the alley and waited behind the Save Rite shoe store. The back door opened and a young woman peeked her head out. When she saw the van she opened the door all the way and stepped up to my window.
“Mr. Cooper?” she said.
I hiked a thumb toward the other side of the van. “Get in,” I said. Shelley got in and I drove for a few minutes until I found a secluded parking lot. I pulled in, parked in an empty part of the lot and cut the engine. But and I turned in our seats to face Shelley. Our eyes widened as we stared down the barrel of the revolver Shelley was pointing at us.
“What’s all this for?” Bud said.
“Let’s see some I.D.,” Shelley said.
Bud and I fished our wallets out of our pockets and passed them back to the woman. She opened them to the photos on our driver’s licenses, compared the photos with our faces, passed the wallets back to us and then put the gun back into her purse. “Can’t be too careful,” she said.
“Where’d you get a gun like that?” Bud demanded.
“What are you, a cop?” Shelley said.
“Retired,” Bud explained. “Unless you have a permit for that thing, you could be facing some serious charges.”
“As serious as Artie’s facing even as we speak?” she said. “He needs our help right now.”
Bud leaned toward Shelley. “Why is it you can’t take this to the police, Shelley?” he said. “I mean beside the fact they told you not to. What sort of trouble is Artie in with the police?”
“He got a little involved with some people who were dealing drugs,” Shelley said. “And that would all come out in a police investigation. That’s why this has to be handled on the quiet.”
“Think about it for a minute, Shelley,” Bud said. “What’s worse? Explaining your past to the police or possibly getting killed by kidnappers?”
“I thought of all that, Mr. Burke,” Shelley said. “Either way I could lose Artie, but getting the cops involved would mean losing him for sure. This way, at least there’s a chance of getting him back alive and then leaving town.”
“What do they want from you?” I said. “What do they expect you to give them for Artie’s return?”
“They never asked for money,” Shelley explained. “They want Artie’s cocaine stash.”
“Wait a minute,” Bud said. “What you’re asking us to do is get involved in several things that are illegal. Having been a cop myself, I know that you’re just asking for more trouble if you go through with this.”