by Bill Bernico
“Excuse me,” the cop said.
Matt stepped in, displaying his identification as well. “I’ve been talking to Lieutenant Cole about this and he’s asked me to find out whatever I could about the matter. I assume you’re both here looking into the death of those twin sisters.”
The cop nodded. “What do you know about it?”
“I just got here,” Matt said.
“So did I,” Elliott offered. “So far I’m just observing. I thought after I finished my Pepsi that I’d kind of wander around and talk to a few people, you know, casual like.”
The second cop, who had been listening to his partner’s exchange with Matt and Elliott, stepped away and flipped open a cell phone. A minute later he rejoined his partner.
“I just spoke with Lieutenant Cole,” the second cop told his partner. “He verified their explanation and said we were to leave them alone and let them do whatever it is they do so well, his exact words.” The cop turned to Elliott, grabbed his visor and nodded before moving away.
Matt looked across the room and then back at Elliott. “Hang on a minute, Dad. I see someone I know. I’ll be right back.” Matt slowly walked across the room and stopped in front of the man he’d confronted earlier that day. He stood where the man couldn’t help but notice and just stared.
The man frowned and approached Matt. “What’s your problem?”
“I just didn’t think I’d see you here,” Matt said. “I figured you’d be laying low, is all.”
“Why the hell should I lay low?”
“Come on, Gallo,” Matt said. “You remember what I said this afternoon?”
The man looked sideways at Matt. “How do you know my name?” he almost demanded.
“What?” Matt said. “You sure this is how you want to play it.”
“Mister, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about now get out of my face before I…”
“Look, Mick,” Matt began. “I don’t know…”
The man laughed. “Now I get it. You must have talked to Mick earlier. Well, I’m not Mick. The name’s Nick Gallo. Mick’s my brother.”
“Let me see some I.D.,” Matt told him.
“And just who the hell are you that I need to show you anything?” Gallo said.
Matt looked around the room and caught the attention of one of the cops. Matt raised one arm and motioned him to come over to where he and Gallo stood. Matt turned back to Gallo. “Maybe you don’t have to show me your I.D. but I think Officer Weller here would like to see it.” He turned back to the cop. “Wouldn’t you?”
Officer Weller nodded and held out his hand. “Let’s see some I.D. right now.”
Gallo plucked the wallet from his back pocket, flipped it open to his driver’s license and held it out for the cop to see.
“Take it out of the wallet, please,” Weller told him.
Gallo complied and added, “Now you wanna tell me why you’re harassing me?”
Officer Weller looked at the license, made a note of the name in his notepad, showed the license to Matt and handed it back to Gallo. “You’re Nick Gallo?”
“That’s what it says there, doesn’t it?”
“Just answer the question, sir.”
“Yeah, my name’s Nick Gallo. So what?”
“Thanks for your cooperation, sir.” Weller motioned Matt to step away with him and said, “Would you mind telling me why you did that, why you called me over here?”
Matt shook his head. “Mistaken identity,” he said. “He looked like someone else I know. Turns out it’s his brother. Sorry to have taken you away from your duties.”
Weller rejoined his partner while Matt walked back over to where Elliott was just finishing his drink.
“Who was that?” Elliott said.
“Thought it was Mick Gallo, the guy I told you about back at the office,” Matt said. “Turns out it was his brother.”
“An honest mistake,” Elliott said.
Matt ordered a Pepsi for himself and laid his dollar on the bar. He grabbed the glass, raised it to his lips and turned around in time to see Gallo emerging from the men’s room in a different shirt. Matt set his glass on the bar, wiped his lip and shot his father a quick look.
“What?” Elliott said.
Matt gestured toward Gallo. “How’d he get in the bathroom? I just left him and I didn’t see him get by me.”
“You were probably talking to me and didn’t see him walk by,” Elliott said.
Matt closed his eyes tightly, opened them again and blinked a few time. He turned to Gallo and laid a hand on Gallo’s arm as he tried to squeeze past. “What happened to your other shirt?”
Gallo yanked his arm out of Matt’s grasp. “Who the hell are you? You grab me again and I’ll knock your teeth down your throat.” He walked away.
Matt’s eyes followed Gallo to the other end of the bar and around to the dance floor, where he stopped and faced…Gallo. What the hell was going on here?
“What is it, Matt?” Elliott said.
Matt gestured to where Gallo had stopped to talk to the other man. “Look.”
When the other man turned for a moment, Elliott’s eyes widened. He looked back at Matt. “Brothers?”
“Not just brothers,” Matt added. “Ugly brothers. How much you wanna bet their parents were related to each other before they got married?”
The bartender had just set a beer in front of the customer sitting one stool away from Matt and had just rung up the sale. He turned to Matt. “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing you two talking about those two over there.” He gestured toward the Gallo and the other man.
Matt nodded. “You know them?”
“Nick and Rick?” the bartender said. “Everyone knows them. They’re in here all the time, usually with their other brother, Mick. They’re triplets, you know, and all of them ended up doing the same thing. They all drive a big rig. You know, over the road truckers.”
“Triplets,” Matt said. “That would explain everything. You say they’re in here a lot?”
“They’ve been coming in here for years,” the bartender said. “Everyone here just calls ‘em the Truckin’ Triplets.
“Mick, Nick and Rick?” Matt said. “What, no Vick, Dick or Prick?”
The bartender had to laugh at that one. “I’ll have to remember that one,” he said.
“Let me ask you,” Elliott said to the bartender. “What was your name?”
“Frank,” the bartender said. “I own this place.”
“Let me ask you, Frank,” Elliott repeated. “Do you know, or should I say, did you know those twin sisters who were murdered recently?”
Frank chuckled. “Heckle and Jeckle? Sure, they were in here almost as often as the triplets. The five of them were almost like a regular attraction around here. Some people used to tell me that they came here specifically to see this weird bunch.”
“Heckle and Jeckle?” Elliott said.
“Or the Tut Twins, if you prefer,” Frank said. “My customers had a few nicknames for them. One guy even called them the Imogene Coca Twins. Doesn’t matter. They were just as ugly with any name.”
Matt leaned in toward Frank. “Did you ever get their real names?”
Frank chuckled and went on wiping a bar glass. “Emma and Edna Frost,” he said. “Now there’s a real scream. It’s not bad enough they look like a couple of troll dolls with their eyes bugging out, but they gotta have those old-fashioned names to boot. Can you get any less appealing?”
“So they didn’t have any takers?” Elliott said. “I mean, did you ever see them leave with anyone?”
“All the time,” Frank said. “That’s the strange part. Someone usually found them appealing enough to want to take them home, usually just before we closed.”
“Well, you know what Mickey Gilley used to sing,” Elliott said.
He and Frank, who was closer to Elliott’s own age, chimed in together. “Don’t the girls all get prettier at closing time?”
Matt looked at his dad with a puzzled look. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
“You never heard that song?” Elliott said.
Matt just stared at him with a blank expression.
Frank slapped Elliott’s shoulder. “He wasn’t even born yet when that song came out. We still have it here on the jukebox and you wouldn’t believe how often it still get’s played. Personally, if I hear it again, I think I’ll upchuck my supper. That one and that Jimmy Buffet ditty, “Why don’t we get drunk and screw?”
“Come on,” Matt said. “You gotta be making that one up.”
Frank laughed and held up both palms. “No foolin’,” he said. “The only reason I don’t throw up every time I hear those two songs is that I get a quarter every time some bonehead plays either one. The guy who owns the jukebox gets seventy-five cents, so we both make out like bandits.”
“Getting back to the murdered twin sisters,” Matt said. “Do you remember anyone in particular who might have left with either or both of them, especially the night before they were murdered?”
“The cops asked me the same thing,” Frank said. “And I’ll tell you what I told them. I was too busy behind the bar that night to notice when they left, let alone who they left with, if anyone. Sorry.”
“Thanks anyway, Frank,” Elliott said and shook Frank’s hand. Elliott turned to Matt now. “Come on, let’s start talking to some of these other customers.”
Elliott slid off his stool and walked to the other end of the bar and around to the dance floor. When Matt looked up, he saw the Gallo brothers talking to each other. Every so often one of them would look back over at Matt and then whisper something to the other brother. Elliott tapped Matt’s elbow. “Keep an eye on those two,” he told Matt.
Half an hour later Elliott and Matt had finished talking to almost everyone in the bar. They were no further ahead in their investigation than they were before they came in this bar. The two of them headed for the door and Matt turned back once more to see where the Gallo brothers were. He couldn’t see them anywhere. Maybe they got lucky and left with two semi-finalist contestants in the Miss Unappealing Contest.
Just outside the door to Frank’s Elliott stopped and turned to Matt. “Where are you parked?”
Matt gestured with his chin. “Just up the block. I’ll see you when you get in tomorrow. Good night, Dad.”
“Good night, Matt,” Elliott said and began walking toward his car. A moment later he turned back when he heard a muffled grunt. The Gallo Brothers had emerged from the shadows and had jumped Matt. One of them was holding Matt’s arms while the other one drove his fist into Matt’s gut.
Elliott hurried over to the ruckus, pulled the .38 from under his arm and stuck the barrel into the ear of the brother who was punching Matt. “Hit him again and your brother there will be able to look in one of your ears and see clean through to the other side.” He gestured with his chin to the brother who had Matt’s arms. “Let him go, asshole.”
Gallo released Matt’s arms. Matt sunk to the sidewalk on his knees, holding his stomach, the breath knocked out of him. Elliott held the gun on the two thugs but spoke to Matt. “You all right, Matt?”
“I’m okay, Dad,” Matt said between gulps of air. A moment later he got to his feet, turned to the Gallo brother closest to him and swung his fist up in a short arc, catching the man on the side of his jaw. It was Rick Gallo. Elliott only knew it was Rick because of the difference in shirts between him and Nick. Rick fell backwards onto his ass, rubbing his jaw.
“Don’t you get up,” Matt demanded and turned to Nick. He caught Nick in the stomach with his balled-up fist and doubled the big man up. The air rushed out of Nick’s lungs in one big exhale. Nick stayed bent over for a moment and when he finally straightened up again, he came up swinging, knocking the .38 out of Elliott’s hand. Rick sprung to his feet and the two bullies took the opportunity to push Elliott and Matt away from them as they made a dash away from the scene.
Matt started after them, but Elliott held him back, retrieving his revolver and holstering it again. “Let ‘em go, Matt. We know who they are and most likely where to find them if we need to.”
“You think we struck a nerve with either or both of them?” Matt said.
“Probably,” Elliott said. “Don’t you find it a bit strange that you had run-ins with all three brothers in the same day?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Matt agreed.
“Come on,” Elliott said. “I’ll walk you to your car and you can give me a ride to mine.” The two men each drove home and neither one told their wives of their activities earlier that night.
The next day in the office, Matt was surprised to find Elliott already there. “I thought you got accustomed to sleeping in,” Matt said.
“Normally I would have,” Elliott said. “But I was too keyed up and woke up early this morning. Besides, I wanted to be here when you got in. I want to talk to you about this whole thing.”
“What’d you have in mind, Dad?”
“I’ve been thinking about last night and it occurred to me that just because no one at the bar remembers seeing the twin sisters leave with anyone doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have been waiting for them outside the bar, like those two yahoos last night.”
Matt snapped his fingers and pointed at Elliott. “Or it could have been someone who had already taken them home in the past. They’d know where Heckle and Jeckle lived and could have been waiting at their house for them.”
“There is that,” Elliott agreed.
“But we still don’t have a motive for any of this,” Matt said. “Why on earth would someone want to kill or have to kill both of them? I mean other than for aesthetic reasons.”
“Aesthetic reasons?” Elliott said.
Matt waved him off. “Never mind, bad joke.”
“Suppose one or both of them knew something and whoever killed them couldn’t take the chance that he killed the wrong one, so he killed them both.”
Matt didn’t reply right away.
“Yeah,” Elliott thought. “That theory didn’t work for me, either.”
“Not so fast, Dad,” Matt said. “Back up a bit and expand on that last thought you had. You might be onto something there.”
Elliott paused, choosing his words carefully. “Those sisters were in Frank’s bar all the time, right?”
“Right.”
“And who’d be in a better position to overhear something they probably shouldn’t have?”
“The Tut Twins?”
“Exactly,” Elliott said. “But who did they hear and what did they hear, if they heard anything at all?”
“It’s a long shot,” Matt said. “Let’s kick it around some more. I think we’re getting warmer.”
“You think we should let Lieutenant Cole know what we have?” Elliott suggested.
“What do we have? Nothing.”
“Right,” Elliott said. “I guess it can wait a while longer.”
“Hey, Dad, I just thought of something. Has anyone bothered to check if these twins had any other siblings?”
“Good question,” Elliott said. “That hadn’t even occurred to me. Suppose we find out.” Elliott flipped open the laptop, logged into the local newspaper site and found the obituary section. He found the announcement for the funeral of the Frost women. “Here we are, Edna and Emma Frost, 35, died unexpectedly in their home.” Elliott skipped down to the bottom of the obit and read, “They were preceded in death by their father, Arnold and one brother, Fredrick. They are survived by their mother, Mathilda Frost, a brother, Sam Frost, both of Los Angeles and one sister, Alice (Manning) Frost, of Burbank. Funeral arrangements will be handled by…” Elliott stopped reading and wrote down the names of the surviving Frosts.
“I wonder if the other sister is a troll, too,” Matt said, half laughing.
“How’d you like to find out while I interview the mother and brother?” Elliott said.
“Oh sure, stick me with the
sister. Why don’t you take the sister and I’ll talk to the mother and brother?”
“Because I claimed ‘em first,” Elliott said.
“Think back one day, Dad,” Matt said. “Who is the proprietor of this company and who is the relatively new employee?”
Elliott rolled his eyes and chuckled. “That’s right, my seniority rolled back to zero when I retired. I’m working on it, though. I have one day seniority over whoever you hire next. Oh, all right. I’ll talk to Alice and you can sip a cup of tea with Mom and Sam. Happy now?”
“Very.”
Elliott grabbed his jacket and hat and headed for the door. “Meet back here after?”
“I’ll call you when I finish with my end,” Matt said and followed Elliott out of the office.
The two men left the parking lot, Elliott driving north to Burbank and Matt driving to downtown Los Angeles. Elliott exited the freeway and found his way to the house on Harvard Road. It was a small, yellow house nestled between an apartment building and another small house. He walked up the winding walkway and up onto the stoop. He hadn’t even had a chance to ring the doorbell when the front door opened and a man stood there looking back at Elliott.
“Yes?” the man said. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Mr. Manning?” Elliott said.
The man agreed that he was.
“Could I speak with Alice, please?”
“She’s not feeling well today,” Manning said. “We’ve had a death in the family. As a matter of fact, we’ve had two deaths.”
“Emma and Edna,” Elliott said. “I know and I’d like to extend my condolences to Alice. I’m also here looking into their deaths.” Elliott produced his shield and I.D. card and let Manning have a look at them.
Manning stepped aside and let Elliott in. “Wait here, I’ll go get Alice.”
When the woman stepped into the room, Elliott was sure he’d gone to the wrong house. This woman was beautiful and looked nothing like the twin troll dolls in the drawers at the morgue. “Alice?” he said, not sure he had the right person.
She nodded and sighed. “Ralph tells me you’re here looking into my sisters’ deaths.”