by P C Hatter
She looked up at me with anger and hurt in her eyes. “You’re the kind of male I’ve dreamed about, Kaiser. And the kind of male who I will never have because you’ll never stay around long enough. The kind of male who will go out to play with their guns, hurt people, and get killed. Maybe I can blame it on too many stories and tall tales. It isn’t nice to realize the person you care about is so close to death each day, and he likes it that way.”
Elenore got up from her chair. “You’re big, strong, and exciting. Exactly what I want. But the fun will only last while you’re alive. You’re trouble and will stay trouble until the end. So, I’m going to forget about you and my romantic dreams and find a nice quiet dependable male to live a normal boring life.”
“And you’ll always wonder what an exciting male would be like.”
The change stole over her face slowly wiping away the bitterness. She moved closer and her robe fell open. “No, I’ll find out about that first.”
We said goodbye in the dim light of the morning. Neither of us looked back. Elenore was right. I cruised over to Central Park West and found a parking place. I got out and walked along the path to watch the sun come up over the buildings and feel its warmth. The memory of a dream slipped through my mind. A strange theatrical affair with all the players of the case both living and dead. A female walked passed me, seemingly annoyed that I blocked her path, and I remembered another character of the dream. With that an idea formed, a long shot, but it was all I had. I stayed there in the park thinking until I realized I needed to find a rabbit with big ears.
At around three o’clock I made a call that went through several secretaries until I found the columnist I wanted and told him, “This is a friend of Pudgy Wilkins. I got something for him and need his address if you have it.”
“That’s private information, we don’t give out.”
“So is what I’ve got. Pudgy can have it for your boss for free, or I can sell it to the competition.”
“If it’s something newsworthy, I’ll be glad to pass it along.”
The guy was trying, but I needed to find Pudgy. “Like I said, Pudgy is a friend. Would you like to explain to your boss why he got scooped on a story?”
The columnist mumbled, but quieted after I called him by name. He gave me Pudgy’s address but sounded like he was gritting his teeth the entire time. I thanked him, but he’d already hung up.
From what the directory listed, Pudgy lived in a rundown hotel off Eighth Avenue in the upper sixties. When I saw the building, it was exactly like I expected, but for some reason Pudgy liked those type of places. The management’s only rule was to pay the rent on time. The hotel lobby contained shabby furniture and the Parrot that manned the front desk was so old most of his feathers were missing.
“Where can I find Pudgy Wilkins?”
“Room 307.” The parrot didn’t bother to look up from his paper or announce me. Strangely enough the place had an automatic elevator, but that was probably because they wouldn’t pay anyone to run a manual one.
Pudgy’s apartment faced the back court. When I knocked on the door, I heard someone inside. “Pudgy, it’s Kaiser.”
The key rattled in the lock and the rabbit looked up at me with sleepy eyes and wearing the top half of his pajamas. “Hey, Kaiser, what’s up?”
A quick glance over his shoulder into the room, and I knew Pudgy had company. “Is she asleep or can she hear us?”
Pudgy was instantly awake. “Give me a second.” He zipped back into the room and was back out in the hall completely dressed faster than a person could say hello darling. “What do you got? I’m guessing the newspaper only have the whitewashed version of Guy Marshes murder, but if you’re willing to expand on it I’m all ears.”
“How about a trade?” At Pudgy’s scowl I held up a hand. “Hear me out. There are no rough guys this time. Do me a favor, and you can get the story from the beginning.”
“Okay.”
I told him everything from the beginning, and Pudgy hung on every word and told me his boss would be ecstatic. In the end he said, “What would you like me to do?”
“Nelson Saldonia.”
Pudgy’s ears waggled all over the place. “That frog kicked off years ago. Heart attack in a movie theater. Come to think of it, he was always in a movie theater.”
“At the time of his death, was he married or have a girlfriend?”
“Let me see.” Pudgy closed his eyes and tapped his forehead. “Not married, but I think he was shacked up with someone.”
“Who?”
“Don’t remember the name. Do you need to find her?”
“If she’s still alive, I need to talk to her and fast.”
His ears did another wave, and the rabbit gave me a big smile. “I’ll give it a spin. With any luck, she’ll still be alive and in the city. Do I need to lay down some dough?”
“Do it. I’ll stand you the cash.” I scrawled a number on the back of a matchbook cover and handed it to him. “Here’s where you can reach me. If anyone asks, you heard a rumor and haven’t seen me in a month of Sundays.”
“Sure thing, Kaiser.”
Confident that if Nelson Saldonia’s girlfriend was still alive Pudgy would find her, I went back to Leslie’s apartment.
Leslie was still asleep, so I made myself a drink, put the radio on low, and relaxed in a chair watching the smoke from my cigarette drift to the ceiling. At around eight o’clock I looked in on her.
“Hey sleepy head,” I said.
“What time is it? I need to get to the theater.”
“Whatever you were supposed to do, I think you slept through it. It’s night time.”
Leslie check the clock on her bedside table. “Eight, in the evening? What will they think?”
I gave her a kiss and said, “Get dressed while I go see what I can drum up for us to eat in your kitchen.”
Pudgy called about ten o’clock, “I found her, Kaiser. Her name is Gloria Sandstone.” The rabbit’s voice had a hushed uncertain quality.
“What’s the matter, Pudgy?”
“Someone besides you is looking for her.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know, but if you want to talk to her, you’d better make it quick. The female’s hot.”
“Where do I find her?”
“About twenty-five feet away from me croaking out a torch song and wearing a red dress that clashes with her green skin. Charlie’s is the name of the club, and it’s down in the Village. Know where it is?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
“Listen, Kaiser, you won’t get backstage without a date.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring one.”
I hung up and told Leslie, “Grab your coat we got to go.”
Leslie didn’t ask questions. She took our coats out of the closet and away we went. Rain poured down as I drove to the Village and wouldn’t let up.
“Where are we going?”
I didn’t hear the question and muttered. “Saldonia, this has to all be about Nelson Saldonia. Everything connects with him.” I had to park the car down the street from the club, and we huddled underneath my raincoat as we ran for the ripped awning of the entrance. The doorman said it was a bad night, and I agreed with the bear. The mouse at the cloakroom said the same thing.
The headwaiter doubled as the bouncer and muscled his way through the crowd until we reached Pudgy’s table. The rabbit was sitting with another female, only this one was a big Angora rabbit. Pudgy wasn’t smiling, so I said, “You can talk in front of Leslie.”
Pudgy pointed a thumb at his date. “Tina’s the one who dug up your bullfrog.”
Tina smiled. “Don’t mind the getup. Acting like a floozie helps. Do you want the low-down before the act starts?”
“Sure.”
“Gloria Sandstone, Bullfrog, forty-nine. She was Saldonia’s girlfriend and mistress. The frog used to be a looker and good singer, but time’s not been good to her. After Saldonia died, her life hit th
e skids. She went from job to job, even did some prostitution. After the war, she was picked up for shoplifting and given six months. Then she got two years for breaking and entering. Recently, it was the workhouse until she ended up here last month. She’s using the stage name of Glenda.”
“You got all that without speaking to her?” I asked.
“Yup,” said Tina.
Pudgy interrupted. “I was going to talk to her but when I saw that guy, I about had a heart attack.” He pointed to Dean Taylor and four other males who leered at the females on stage.
I cursed and turned away. “Did they see me come in?”
“Don’t think so. I thought you said no rough stuff,” said Pudgy.
“My mistake. Do you know why they’re here?”
Pudgy’s ears dropped back, and his eyes grew big. “Is that who I’ve been crossing all day?”
“Looks like it.”
The lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on a tuxedoed penguin who introduced a Panther.
I leaned forward. “Look, I’m going backstage. Pudgy, you get over to the phone and call the police. Get Captain Duke Barrow and tell him to get down here fast. Drop my name if you have too but tell him what’s going on.”
“Kaiser, I—”
“Do it, Pudgy or this story is going down the drain and will take us with it.”
Leslie grabbed my arm. “I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not. You and Tina are getting out of here. Go home. Don’t worry, I’m not the one they’re after this time.”
A sob tore her throat as I got up from the table.
CHAPTER 12
Two sets of curtains covered the entrance into the backstage. I slipped through both and met up with an old goat leaning back in a chair, smoking a pipe. “Patrons aren’t allowed back here.”
I pulled out a sawbuck and let him eye it. “Maybe I’m not a guest?”
The old goat scratched his beard and said, “You look like one of them there fire inspectors.”
“Can you tell me where Glenda’s dressing room is?”
“What do you want with that old bag?” The goat waved his pipe down the hall. “Glenda don’t have no dressing room, only the supply closet under that stairs. She ain’t no good neither. Just fills in spots.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The goat nodded and stuck the pipe back in his mouth.
A single lightbulb lit the hall along with an exit sign at the end above the backstage door. I could hear females talking as I passed dressing room doors and found the supply closet. When I knocked, a muffled voice asked, “Who is it?” I knocked again, and she cracked open the door.
Before she could close it, I stuck my foot in the opening and grabbed the door. “I’m a friend Gloria.”
The bullfrog looked terrified and held her hands up as if to ward off any blows. The red dress she wore was too tight, and her wig looked like it was going to slip off her head at any minute.
“Who are you?” she croaked.
“Like I said, a friend.” I glanced down the hall and stepped inside, wanting to make this quick. “Dean Taylor is here.” She closed her eyes and her body sagged in defeat. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?”
“Not anymore. I’m too tired to be afraid. Too tired of running.” The mascara she wore ran and one of her false eyelashes fell off.
“Would you like to stop running?”
Gloria hiccupped a croak and cried.
“Do you know what’s happened, Gloria?”
“I read about it in the newspapers.”
“The police will be here soon. They’re on your side, and they won’t hurt you, understand?”
She nodded but said nothing.
“Tell me about Nelson Saldonia, his connection with Taylor and Marsh, please.”
A new stream of tears ran down her face. “I loved Nelson. I really did. What Dean made me do.” Gloria croaked and lit a cigarette. “Bastard. Those three were supposed to be friends, but Guy and Dean got greedy. Nelson had a plan to fix them, to stop them from pushing him out. He had Sal Greenly photograph everything that would incriminate those two and put it on microfilm and have a friend mail it to the district attorney if anything ever happened to him. And he did, I saw him write the letter, but something must have happened to it.”
The bullfrog took a long drag on her cigarette. “Sal double-crossed him and told Guy and Dean. Dean knew about Nelson’s heart and threatened to kill me if I didn’t steal his nitroglycerin tablets.”
Sal Greenly must have made two copies of the evidence and kept one for insurance. Dean Taylor must have thought I had taken that copy. But what happened to the copy that was to go to the District Attorney? I didn’t like the thought that creeped into my head, but one phone call could confirm it either way. Along with one other possibility that kept messing with me.
I grabbed Gloria by the arm and pulled her up. “Come on, we got to get out of here.” Automatically, she grabbed her hat and purse, and I pulled her out the door. The goat was missing from his post, and the music from the stage pounded away. Something wasn’t right.
Keeping Gloria behind me and gun in hand, we exited out the back. Once outside in the darkness I heard Taylor’s voice. “There he is, take him.”
I roared and knocked Gloria to the ground while firing. They returned fire. Rolling, I fired again hoping that those I didn’t hit I could draw away from Gloria. If they were close enough, I used my claws and slashed at shadows. The next thing I knew, sirens filled the air and lights from police cars lit the alley.
Duke called my name. He found me lying in a pile of trash and helped me up. “Gloria’s back there. Find her.”
“Who is she?”
“Saldonia’s girlfriend. The D.A. is going to love her.”
We found her lying limp behind a trashcan. She’d lost her wig. At first, I thought she was dead, but she’d only fainted. Duke had one of the bigger dogs carry her back to a squad car.
“What’s this all about?”
“Gloria can tell you all about it, so treat her nice. When she tells her story, you’ll have Taylor strung up by his tail.”
We walked down to the end of the alley, and I spotted more of Taylor’s guy surrounded by cops and sweating. To Duke, I said, “Taylor was searching for her too. He must have realized someone else was looking for her and guessed it was me. That lizard wanted me dead and wanted to supervise the killing this time. Looks like he’s slipped away again.”
“We’ll find him,” said Duke.
I spotted Pudgy in the crowd holding my coat, and I waved him over. “Duke, this is Pudgy Wilkins. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him in on the story before it gets out to the papers. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home and sleep. When you’re done talking to Gloria, give me a call.”
Duke gave me a puzzled look. “Did all this have to do with Griggs?”
“Yup.”
“Is it over?”
“I sure hope so.” I turned and walked through the crowd to my car. The rain still came down, but I didn’t care. The first stop I made was a drugstore for a pack of smokes and to use the payphone. Fallon answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Mr. Fallon, I’m sorry to call so late, but I needed to ask you a question. This is Kaiser Wrench.”
“That’s fine. What can I do for you Mr. Wrench?”
“During your term in office, did you ever receive a letter from Nelson Saldonia?”
“No. Well… now that you mention it. I do remember seeing an envelope with the return address of the apartment building Saldonia lived in, but there was no letter from the frog. He was dead by that time.”
“Thanks for your time, Mr. Fallon.”
We said goodbye, and I hung up. The fur on my back stood on end and the anger I felt at Grigg’s death returned as the last puzzle piece dropped into place. I climbed back into my car and headed back to my apartment. When I got there, I didn’t bother with the elevator but took the stairs two
at a time.
Gun in hand I entered my apartment. The nurse was on the floor out cold, while the cub huddled under the end table crying. Leslie was there cutting open a cushion.
“Leslie, you’re more cold-blooded than Dean Taylor and Guy Marsh combined.” And a damn good actress, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “You’re not going to find the film here. Not everyone is like you.”
Sheer hate filled her eyes, and she started to tremble with it. I couldn’t help laughing. Griggs didn’t get the wrong apartment, though Leslie tried throwing me off the scent often enough. She had the film that was supposed to go to Fallon. Did her secretary really kill herself over a lover who rejected her, or did Leslie kill her because she opened Fallon’s letter and saw what was inside?
Leslie my not have been one of the top stars, but she was good. Instead of sticking it out in Hollywood, she went after the money in New York and blackmailed Guy Marsh and Dean Taylor. Everything went fine until someone grew tired of the setup. It didn’t matter who.
Taylor probably offered Sal more money if he was able to get the film from Leslie. But Sal needed an unwilling safecracker and used Lachlan to set him up. Poor Griggs set everything in motion. Leslie didn’t know about Lachlan and Greenly until I told her. That sealed both their fates.
“Put down the knife Leslie.”
Her anger turned into a sneer. I smelled male just before I saw stars and the lights went out. The cub was still crying when I came to on the floor. He stopped when I opened my eyes and looked at him. The young cheetah from the theater with the bum limb leaned against the wall cradling his arm. The plaster cast had a nice crack in it. I’d forgotten about him, and the sacking of my apartment. Leslie had to have sent him and was the first time the cheetah slugged me with his cast.
Leslie stood smiling holding the cub’s tattered overalls I’d tossed into the trash. She pulled out the film and dropped the clothes before picking up my .45 from the table next to her.
“The film won’t do you any good, Leslie,” I said and tried to push myself off the floor.
“They’ll serve their purpose. Too bad I have to kill you.”