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

by Bill Bernico

  Matt had been married for three years by now. He met his wife in the very office he occupied the night fate intervened and thrust him and Christine Sullivan together. They married that same year and the following year Chris gave Matt twins—Nicholas and Veronica, who had just celebrated their second birthday earlier this month.

  Matt made it back to his office a few minutes before one o’clock and hung his jacket and hat on the coat rack. He hadn’t even settled into his chair when his phone rang. It was Lieutenant Kevin Cole, the ‘new kid on the block’ at the twelfth precinct.

  “Kevin,” Matt said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “My, aren’t we in a chipper mood?” Kevin said.

  “Any reason I shouldn’t be? I just ran into an old friend on the street. She was just coming back from our fourth grade teacher’s funeral.”

  “And that put you in a chipper mood?”

  “Define chipper,” Matt insisted. “But no, that’s not the reason for my good mood. It’s just a nice day out there and I certainly hope you’re not calling with anything that will spoil my mood.”

  “Maybe not,” Kevin said. “Let me ask you, I know you’re somewhat of an entertainment trivia buff, but how are you with old television shows?”

  “Try me.”

  “Old television cartoon shows,” Kevin corrected.

  “Take your best shot.”

  “You remember those two wise-cracking magpies?”

  “Heckle and Jeckle,” Matt said, before Kevin could complete his sentence. “What about them?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Kevin said. “Just thought I’d run the names by you and see if they rang any bells other than the cartoon connection.”

  “I don’t know where you’re going with this, Kevin, but I’m sure once you tell me, it’ll be interesting as hell.”

  “Okay, let me cut to the chase. We found two women murdered in their apartment early this morning.”

  “And you think Heckle and Jeckle did it?” Matt said.

  “Not exactly, but there is a connection, believe it or not. A couple of my men asked around the neighborhood and it turns out that these two women were sisters—twin sisters nicknamed Heckle and Jeckle, don’t ask me why.”

  “You still didn’t say why you called me about this,” Matt said.

  “I’m getting to that,” Kevin said. “One of my officers checked around at the neighborhood taverns and found out that these sisters frequented one bar in particular. They always came in together and always left together and in between, nobody tried to hit on them. In the bar they also had another nickname.”

  “Nickname?” Matt said. “You mean nicknames?”

  “Nope,” Kevin said. “You’d think they were Siamese Twins, the way you never saw one without the other. Anyway, in Frank’s bar they were known by the rest of the patrons as The Tut Twins, and again, I have no idea why.”

  “Have you seen the bodies yet, Kevin?”

  “Sorry to say that I have and I may skip lunch altogether today.”

  “What did they look like? I don’t mean their murdered appearance; I mean what did they look like in life?”

  Kevin thought for a moment and then added, “Okay, Mr. Trivia, I know you don’t remember it first hand, but maybe you saw reruns or YouTube clips. There was a television show in the fifties called, Your Show of Shows with Sid Caesar, Carl Reiner and some goofy-looking woman.”

  Matt drew a blank.

  Kevin scraped the back of his memory and said, “Okay, she was also the goofy aunt who glommed on the Griswold family in that first Chevy Chase Vacation movie. Remember? She died in the back seat and they tied her to a chair on the roof of that station wagon.”

  “Imogene Coca,” Matt offered.

  “Yeah, that’s the woman I was thinking about.”

  “What about her?”

  “That’s what these twins looked like,” Kevin said. “They had those same bugged-out eyes and that same hairdo with the bangs cut straight across. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why they were called The Tut Twins. They looked kind of like Cleopatra or some pharaoh’s wife.”

  “Okay,” Matt said. “I have a mental picture of them. Now do you think you can let me in on the reason you called me? Wait a minute, it’s not because I have twins of my own, is it?”

  “Don’t be silly, Matt,” Kevin said. “It’s just that while my officer was checking out this particular bar, he came across one of your business cards on the floor. Someone who was there last night must have dropped it and I just figured one of your clients might have seen something unusual. Any idea who that could have been?”

  “Wait a second,” Matt said, “Just let me check out the database I made out that holds all the pertinent information about anyone I gave a business card to.”

  “Forget I asked,” Kevin said. “It sounded stupid as soon as the words left my mouth. Just thought I’d run it by you so I could say I covered all my bases.”

  “Well, it looks like you were tagged out at home plate,” Matt said. “Anything else, or can I get back to work now?”

  “Bye.”

  The phone went dead and Matt settled into his chair, wondering who it might have been that had dropped his card in that bar.”

  The next day Matt was in the office at the stroke of eight. Waiting in his outer office was Anne Hoffsted, looking a bit frazzled. Matt did a double take when he saw her sitting there. “Miss me already?” Matt said.

  Anne didn’t even crack a smile, but just followed Matt into the inner office. “You got a few minutes?” Anne said.

  “Sure,” Matt said, hanging up his coat and gesturing toward his client’s chair. “Something troubling you this morning?”

  “Let me ask you something, Matt,” Anne began. “Is this like a doctor or lawyer’s office, where whatever I tell you is confidential?”

  Matt nodded. “It won’t go any further than the two of us, if that’s the way you want it.”

  Anne hesitated a moment before offering, “When I got home from work last night I took my shower and started to cuddle up in front of the TV. It didn’t take me long to realize that someone had been in my apartment while I was gone. I’m a pretty fastidious person and I know when things aren’t where I put them.”

  “Annie Wilkes?”

  “Huh?” Anne said.

  “Kathy Bates played a woman named Annie Wilkes in that Stephen King movie, Misery. She knew exactly where everything was supposed to be, too.”

  Anne still had no idea where Matt was going with all this and just shrugged. “Sorry, I haven’y seen that one. Anyway, I hurried back to my bedroom and reached up onto my closet shelf, ran my hand under a spare pillow and noticed it was gone.”

  “It?” Matt said. “Which ‘it’ are we talking about here?”

  “It is an antique jewelry box that I found at a little shop over on Pico Boulevard a few years ago. Someone was in my apartment and stole it.”

  Matt’s eyes furrowed. “Shouldn’t you be talking to the police, instead of sitting here in a private eye’s office?”

  Anne looked down at the floor and sighed. By the time she looked back up at Matt again, he got it.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “The box held something that the police can’t know anything about. Am I getting warm?”

  Anne nodded. “The box was partitioned in half, so to speak. The top section had a secret compartment where I kept my extra money. I had a little more than eight thousand in there, all in hundred dollar bills and a couple of fifties. If you didn’t know the compartment was there, you’d never notice it.”

  “And the other half?” Matt said. The words were no sooner out of his mouth that he pointed one finger at Anne. “Might the other half have contained a substance that the police might not look favorably upon if found in your possession?”

  Anne nodded in resignation. “Matt, I’ve got to get that box back. I’d give up that dirty habit for good and never touch that stuff again if I can only get my antique box back as
well as my cash.”

  “Isn’t that an unusual amount of cash to keep around the house?” Matt said. “I don’t suppose I have to even mention how much safer a bank would have been.”

  “I suppose,” Anne said. “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever see that cash again.”

  “So, is that it? You want me to find your antique box?”

  Anne nodded. “Could you?”

  “I don’t know where I’d start,” Matt said. “Unless this thief left fingerprints or a calling card, it could be a dead end right off the bat.” Matt looked up at the wall clock above his office door. “Don’t you have to be at work this morning?”

  Anne shook her head. “I called in sick this morning. I’d never be able to concentrate with all this on my mind.”

  “Great, then you wouldn’t mind showing me where you live? Maybe I can find a clue or something more to go on than you’ve given me. Can we go there now?”

  “Sure,” Anne said. “You want to just follow me in your car?”

  “I can do that,” Matt said. “Where do you live, in case we get separated in traffic?”

  She gave Matt the address and the two of them rode the elevator to the lobby and out to the parking lot behind Matt’s building. Matt stayed close behind Anne as she drove back to her house on Sunset and Catalina. Matt followed Anne into her house and stood at the doorway, taking in the immediate area. The place was immaculate.

  He looked at Anne. “Is this the way the place looked last night?”

  “Pretty much,” Anne said. “I straightened it up a little.”

  Matt shot Anne a quick look. “You might have cleaned away any clues I might have been able to find. Show me this closet where you kept that box.”

  Anne led Matt to her bedroom and opened the closet door, pointing to the shelf overhead. “It was up there, under the pillow.”

  Matt switched on the closet light, staying in the bedroom and checking the floor for any evidence. He saw an empty hanger on the rack and pulled it off, using it to lift the pillow off the shelf. He turned back to Anne. “Do you have a step stool?”

  “Just a minute,” Anne said, and returned a minute later with a folding step stool.

  Matt stepped up onto it and held the pillow up with the hanger. There was a dirty smear on the shelf, as if something had been dragged across it, but that’s all there was. Matt stepped back down off the stool and turned to Anne. “I’d better have a look at the door and windows. Maybe he left something behind when he came in. Does anyone else have a key to this place?”

  “No one,” Anne said. “I’ve got the only key.”

  “And were the windows all locked?”

  “I think so.”

  “But you’re not sure?”

  Anne shrugged and spread her hands.

  Matt returned to the front door—the obvious point of entry. There was a throw rug in front of the door that had been arranged squarely with the bottom of the door. He looked at Anne. “Is this how you found the rug when you got home?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, was it just like this, all squared away, or did you have to straighten it out?”

  “I don’t remember,” Anne said.

  Matt knelt in front of the rug and gently lifted one corner. There was a partial pattern faintly visible under one corner. It looked like the waffle pattern on the soles of work boots. Matt pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open and snapped two photos of the pattern before returning the phone to his pocket. He looked up at Anne. “Now I think I may have something to go on. Do you want to hire me?”

  “I thought I already had,” she said.

  Matt shook his head. “Not yet. I just came here to see if there was anything for me to pursue. If there hadn’t been, I’d have told you I couldn’t help you and there’d have been no charge. Now that I have someplace to start, I’m offering my services to you at my usual rate of two hundred-fifty dollars a day. Do you want me to keep going on this?”

  Anne didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes, I do, Matt, but whatever you find has to be kept a secret. You understand?”

  “We can go back to my office and I can draw up one of my standard contracts for you,” Matt said. “But I have to tell you up front, that if during the course of my investigation, I come upon a dead body or a crime in progress, I am duty bound to inform the police of my findings. If that’s not something you want to agree to, then my work here is done.”

  Anne nodded. “All right,” she said. “But what about my stuff? Isn’t that considered a crime?”

  “I didn’t personally see any illegal substance. I just have your word about what was taken and so far, all I know is that you’re missing more than eight thousand dollars in cash. Anything else so far is hearsay.”

  “And what happens if you find the box with my money in it and that other stuff is still in it as well?”

  Matt thought about that for a moment. “I guess you could always say that it was just a money box to you and that the thief put his own substance in it.”

  Anne grabbed Matt’s forearm. “Thank you, Matt. I knew you’d understand.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”

  Matt left Anne standing there as he headed back to his car. He had just the slimmest of leads to go on and he knew only one person who might be able to shed some light on this mystery. Downtown Matt stopped in at a store he knew very well, since one of his friends worked there as a clerk. The store sold high end hiking boots and Matt was taking a shot in the dark with his only clue. As he walked into the store Erv Jensen saw him coming and smiled a broad smile.

  “Matthew Cooper,” Erv said. “What brings you here today?”

  “Boy you really don’t believe in small talk, do you?” Matt said.

  “A, it, an, the, is...”

  “Huh?” Matt thought Erv might have finally lost it.

  “You wanted small talk, didn’t you? Those are the smallest words I know.” Erv waited a few seconds before he let Matt off the hook and laughed. “Really, Matt, how’s the family? I hear those twins of yours are really growing. And Chris? How’s she doing?”

  “They’re all doing great, Erv. Thanks for asking.” Matt pulled out his cell phone. “The reason I stopped in today is to see if you can identify a footprint I found earlier today. It looks like it could be from some kind of hiking boot.” Matt flipped open his phone and brought up the photos he snapped at Anne’s place. He handed Erv the phone. “Recognize them?”

  Erv studied the photos, turning the phone sideways to get a better perspective. He looked back at Matt. “Hold on a minute. This pattern looks familiar. Follow me.” He led Matt to a table display of several work boots. He picked up the first one, turned it over and compared it to the photo on Matt’s phone. It wasn’t a match. Erv replaced the boot and picked up another, checking it against the photo. Still no match. None of the boots soles matched the photo on Matt’s phone. “Don’t give up just yet, Matt.” Erv led Matt into a storage room at the back of the store and pulled a shoe box off a pile of new arrivals. He opened the box, turned the boot upside down and held it next to Matt’s phone display. “Bingo. I knew I’d seen that pattern before.”

  Matt looked surprised. “Aren’t these the new arrivals?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then how could they look familiar to you?”

  “The company sent me a brochure with the new styles in it. I really liked this one and decided to buy myself a pair when they got here. This shipment came in yesterday but the stores have been told not to put them out for sale until tomorrow. All the stores in our chain are coordinating their release to coincide with that new movie that’s coming out tomorrow. You know, the one with Dan Ripple playing that hiker who comes across a multiple murder scene.”

  “Dan Ripple,” Matt said. “Doesn’t ring a bell. What else was he in?”

  Erv shook his head. “Can’t believe you’ve never heard of Dan Ripple. He was the guy in that movie about the terrorists
who accidentally blew up their own building.”

  Matt shook his head and gestured with his chin at the photo on his phone. “So if these aren’t even going to be released until tomorrow, how is it I found that print this morning at a friend’s house?”

  Erv’s face went blank. “That’s a good question. I wish I had the answer.”

  “How many other stores from this chain are in this area?”

  “There are four altogether, counting this one,” Erv explained. “One downtown, one in Beverly Hills, one in Pasadena and this one. You thinking it could have been one of their employees who got an early pair?”

  “It’s not that far-fetched,” Matt said. “You got the first pair from this batch. Someone else could have held out a pair from one of the other stores.”

  “So I take it you’ll be visiting the other three stores around here?”

  Matt nodded. “It’s the only lead I have, unless you have a better idea?”

  “Sorry Matt,” Erv said. “I’m the shoe salesman. You’re the private eye. Good luck with it.”

  “Thanks, Erv. Listen, could you write down the stock number of that boot for me? Could save me a lot of explaining at the other three places.”

  Erv was one step ahead of Matt. He handed Matt a slip of paper with the stock number and the addresses of the other three stores.

  “Thanks, Erv,” Matt said before he left the store and returned to his car. The Beverly Hills store was the closest one to his present location and he made it there in twenty minutes. He didn’t spend even five minutes at this location once he found out that their shipment of the new boots had not been removed from the shrink wrap yet. All pairs in the shipment had been accounted for. Matt swung down to the downtown L.A. store next. Their shipment had two boxes missing from the pallet, but both pairs had been set aside by the manager for his two grown boys. Matt thanked the manager and moved on to the Pasadena store, which was located on the outskirts of town in a strip mall.

  The manager of this store was a tall man named Brockman. He was waiting on a woman with two small children as Matt walked in. The manager concluded his transaction with the woman fifteen minutes later. As he was marking something down in his sales book, Matt walked up to him and introduced himself.