Too Darn Hot

by Sandra Scoppettone

  After the Ladds anted up and Charlie was free, was it my responsibility to tell Claire that he’d raped her sister? She was my client but I wasn’t hired to protect her from her boyfriend. I was hired to find her boyfriend.

  Anyway, there was always the possibility that Lucille was lying. But she had nothing to gain from me by making up a story like that.

  The huge woman finally signed off and maneuvered her way out of the booth. She looked at me with disgust when she passed me, as though I was responsible for her girth.

  I went in the booth, got the operator, gave her Claire’s number, dropped some nickels in, and waited. She answered right away.

  “Have ya heard anything?” I asked.

  “Nothin.”

  “Okay. I won’t stay on. I’ll check with ya later.”

  “Faye, do ya think ya could come over for a while?”

  “Not right now, Claire. I’m interviewin somebody.”

  “Another case?”

  “No. Your case.”

  “So who is it?”

  Damn. “I’ll tell ya when I see ya. We should keep the line free now.”

  “Yeah. So I’ll see ya later?”

  “I’ll call ya first. Gotta go now.” I put the earpiece in its cradle.

  When I got back to the table, Lucille was smoking a cigarette and she’d ordered herself another Coke.

  “Did you get her?”

  “Yeah. No word yet.”

  “Oh, poor Claire. She must be a wreck. She’s very fragile, you know.”

  “She is?” That was something I hadn’t noticed. Course she’d started stretching my job to include babysitting duties.

  “Is someone with her? Waiting for the call?”

  “I’m gonna go over when I leave ya.”

  “I guess that should be about now. I have to get back to work.”

  She began gathering her things: pocketbook, lighter, cigarettes.

  “May I come back to see you again if I need to?”

  She hesitated. “Sure. I don’t see why not. You want my number in case you need to ask me a quick question? That’s funny. A quick question.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I gotta lot of quick questions. But I have both yer numbers.”

  “Oh, of course you do.”

  I motioned to the waitress to bring the check.

  “You wanna take yer sandwich home?”

  “No, thanks.”

  I wanted to, but I knew that wouldn’t look good.

  The waitress brought the check. “Oh, dear, something wrong with the sandwich?”

  I said there wasn’t and that Lucille wasn’t hungry. I paid the check and told her to keep the change. She smiled and thanked me.

  “I didn’t expect you to take me to lunch.”

  “Expense account. Don’t worry about it.” This would be an item in my expenses or not, if I didn’t want Claire to know about it. But who knew where we’d be by the time this case was over?

  Outside, I thanked Lucille for being honest with me. She asked me if I’d keep her updated now and then, and I said I would. We said goodbye. Then she headed toward the book-shop and I went over to Edison Street to pick up the car.

  When I got back to the Village I found a parking spot on Morton Street, locked up the LaSalle, and went home. When there was no answer at Duryea’s apartment, I slid the keys under his door like he told me to.

  As usual, Zach was hungry. But I told him it was too early. I called Claire. Still no word. I’d said I’d be over soon. I relented about feeding Zach cause who knew when I’d get home? Besides, too early for what? It wasn’t exactly like having a drink before five.

  What I’d learned about Charlie nagged at me. I didn’t know much about rapists but what was to know? If they forced themselves on girls, they were the lowest of the low. Snakes in the grass. And if Charlie raped Claire’s sister, who was to say that he wouldn’t do it to some other dame. Maybe a friend of Claire’s. Maybe he already had.

  Maybe the kidnappers knew he was a rapist. Maybe he’d done it to one of their sisters. And David Cooper? Where did he fit in? Had he learned about Charlie and confronted him? Then Charlie killed him and along came some kidnappers? Something was smelling like Gorgonzola.

  Then again, Charlie’s character might have nothing to do with Cooper or with the kidnappers. Maybe they killed Cooper cause he was in the way.

  I knew I was going around and around cause I didn’t want to go uptown to Claire’s. Not telling her about Charlie’s true nature was gonna be tough. Almost impossible.

  FOURTEEN

  It was almost eleven P.M. Claire and I had drunk cup after cup of java waiting for the phone to ring. She let me sit in the one comfortable chair, a big flowered club whose springs had hit the skids. I felt like I was sitting on the floor. Mostly Claire paced and looked over at the phone every fifth or sixth step.

  “Why don’t ya give it a rest,” I said.

  She stopped. “I’m so nervous.”

  “Yeah, I know. Ya think pacin and lookin at the horn is gonna make those bums call ya?”

  “I guess I do. Stupid.” She sat on what passed for a sofa. “I don’t get it. How do they think they’re gonna get their dough if they don’t call?”

  “Nobody ever said crooks were smart.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think they’re gonna call tonight, Claire.”

  “Based on what?”

  Ouch. “A hunch.”

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “You’re right. Sorry. But if they don’t call by midnight, I think ya should go to bed.”

  “You think I could sleep?”

  “Maybe not but ya hafta rest, Claire.”

  “And where will you be if I go to bed?”

  I knew she wanted me to say I’d stay right there but I couldn’t. “I’ll hafta go home.”

  “Why? It’s not like ya have anyone waitin for ya.”

  “I know yer nervous and scared, Claire, but I’m not yer punchin bag. Yer startin to be real nasty to me.”

  “Oh, you’re right.” She put her hands over her face and started bawling.

  I didn’t go to her cause I thought she needed to cry and I’ve noticed if ya go to a person who’s crying, it stops them. After a while her crying petered out.

  “And by the way, I do have somebody waitin for me.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Zachary.”

  “How come ya never mentioned him?”

  “I’m not much fer blabbin.” I didn’t bother pointing out that we weren’t girlfriends no matter how much Claire wanted to do let’s pretend. Our relationship was strictly a professional one.

  “Is he handsome?”

  “I think so. He has black hair with a small patch of white in the front.”

  “That sounds cute. He’s waitin for ya at your place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does he stay . . . I mean . . . do ya . . .”

  It wasn’t too hard to get her drift. “No.”

  “Can’t ya call him, tell him you’re stayin here?”

  “He’d never answer my phone.” Everything I was saying was true about Zach. “Look, Claire, I can’t stay all night and that’s that. If they call, ya listen carefully, write everything down, and then ring me.”

  “Will ya come back then?”

  “I’ll do what the circumstances call for. Okay?”

  “I’m payin ya to find Charlie, ya know?”

  “Sittin here watchin ya pace back and forth isn’t findin Charlie.”

  “Oh, Faye. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  That one left me cold. People who used this in tight situations were hoping to wheedle comfort out of anyone who’d bite. But they knew exactly what was wrong with em. I said nothing.

  Claire gave up waiting for a reply. “Faye, just tell me one thing. Do ya think he’s alive?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. When they call ya should ask to speak to him again.”
/>
  “And what if they won’t let me?”

  “Say ya need proof that he’s still alive. And if they won’t give it, we’ll talk it over, then ask the Ladds what they wanna do.” I put down my coffee cup and pushed myself outta the chair.

  “Yer goin?” She sounded surprised, like we hadn’t been talking about this for the last ten minutes.

  “Yeah.”

  “I know the minute ya hit the street they’ll call.”

  “Might. But whatever they ask ya to do I’m pretty sure it won’t be for tonight. Ya should try to get some sleep. At least lie down. Want me to help pull the bed down?”

  “No. I do it every night. Thanks.”

  I picked up my pocketbook, put my cigs and matches inside, and closed it.

  “You’ll take a cab this time of night, won’t ya?”

  “This all goes on my expense account, ya know.”

  She waved a hand as if to say it didn’t matter.

  I reminded myself about her small inheritance. “Okay. If I don’t hear from ya, I’ll call ya in the A.M.”

  She nodded and I headed for the door.

  At home I debated whether it was too late to call Johnny. He was a night owl but it was almost midnight. If he was asleep I’d tell him I’d call back in the morning.

  But he wasn’t asleep.

  “I was wondering where you were. I called a few times.”

  I brought him up to speed on the case. Then I asked his advice about telling Claire what kinda man Charlie was.

  “You only have Lucille’s word for it. And it’s not your place to tell Claire. That’s not what she hired you for.”

  I knew all that but I needed him to reinforce my thoughts. “But what if I could find out that Lucille was tellin me the truth? Could I tell Claire then?”

  “How would you do that? There were just two people involved and one’s Lucille and the other’s missing.”

  “You have a point.”

  “You believe Lucille, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I mean, why would she say Charlie’d done that to her if he hadn’t?”

  “Ah, Faye. You know better than that. Why would anyone say anything? Or do anything?”

  “Yeah, yer right, Johnny. I still can’t get it that people do things for no reason, or a reason I can’t figure.”

  “I could tell you some stories that’d make your jaw drop.”

  “Bet ya could.”

  “You’re still new to the deceits and tricks of some people.”

  “Guess so.”

  “I think that’s sort of nice.”

  “Are you patronizing me, Johnny?”

  “No, not at all. I mean it. Thing is, there’s gonna come a time when your trust in people won’t be so natural.”

  “You mean I’m gonna get callous and crusty like Detective Powell?”

  He laughed. “You’d better not get like Powell. Here’s my suggestion. Get Claire talking about Charlie, see if she’s as naïve as you think.”

  “I tried that tonight but she was too squirrelly to concentrate.”

  “Try it again. Maybe she’ll lead you down a path that opens the way for you.”

  “I’m not sure what path that’d be but I’ll try. Meanwhile Charlie Ladd’s bein held somewhere and these kidnappers aren’t callin. Plus, I don’t think Powell has any suspects for Cooper’s murder.”

  “I heard through the grapevine he’s convinced it’s Ladd. Thinks Ladd’s flown the coop. Course he doesn’t know this latest wrinkle. The kidnapping.”

  “And yer not gonna tell him, are ya?”

  “Would I do that?”

  I realized then that I honestly didn’t know, cause I didn’t know Johnny Lake that well. It’d been months, not years.

  “Why the silence?” he asked.

  “I don’t think you’d do somethin like tellin Powell about the kidnappin, but I don’t know ya wouldn’t.”

  Now he was silent.

  “Johnny?”

  “I was just thinking about how well I know you, and if the tables were turned what would I believe? Okay. I give you my word and that’s the best I can do.”

  “I do believe yer a man of his word.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I think I better get to bed.”

  “You might have a lot on your hands tomorrow.”

  “I got a question. Has anybody been in touch with David Cooper’s family?”

  “Don’t know. You’ll have to talk to Powell about that.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  He caught on. “You want me to ask him, right?”

  “I know we agreed not to get into each other’s cases, but he’d be more likely to tell you.”

  “True. I’ll have to think up a good one for why I wanna know.”

  “I have complete faith in yer ability to do that, Johnny.”

  We both laughed.

  “I’ll try to find out about the Coopers tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  We said our good nights, but not the words I knew we both wanted to say. I wondered how long it would take us to get to that point, or if we ever would.

  Zach was twirling around my ankles. I laughed when I thought of what I’d told Claire about him. And how easy it all fit. Good thing she didn’t actually say the words do you sleep with Zachary? cause I woulda had to either lie or say yes. Zach never let me sleep alone.

  Saturday was my day to do chores and clean my place. Before I started, I drank a cup a joe and smoked a cig. I’d called Claire first thing but she still hadn’t heard. She was bawling her head off but I calmed her down a little.

  Saturday was also a day I’d think on a case if I had one. And boy did I have one. I hadda wonder what Claire’s parents were thinking. They musta known about it from the papers if not from Claire. But she never mentioned them. Did they know Claire’s army private? Did they care that their daughter’s boyfriend was missing?

  Someone knocked on my door. I hoped it wasn’t Dolores cause I wasn’t in the mood. And please, not Jim Duryea. I put down my cup and went to answer the door. Standing there were two soldiers with bands on their arms that identified them as military police. The shorter one looked me up and down. I had on a short-sleeve blouse, slacks, and sandals— my Saturday duds.

  “See anything ya like?” I said.

  “Are you Miss Quick?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “I’m Sergeant Cagney and this is Sergeant Grahame.”

  “How can I help ya, soldier?”

  Cagney’s eye twitched. “May we come in?”

  “What’s this about?” I was pretty sure I knew.

  “We’d like to talk to you about privates Charles Ladd and David Cooper.”

  I opened the door wider and they filed in like schoolkids, each removing his hat and tucking it under his arm.

  “Can I getya anything?”

  “No, thank you,” Cagney said.

  “Wanna sit down?”

  “Thank you,” Grahame said.

  They spotted my cup in front of the sofa so they took the opposite one, each of them sitting like they had rods up their backs, feet flat on the floor, hands on their knees. Real relaxed.

  I offered them coffee but they thankfully refused. I picked up my java and had a swallow, put it back on the table. Then I went for my cig. “So what can I do for ya?”

  Grahame said, “It’s come to our attention that you’re a . . . a . . . private investigator. Is that true?”

  You woulda thought he was asking me if I was a member of the Mafia. “That’s right.”

  “And you’re working on a case that includes both Ladd and Cooper?”

  “My case has to do with Ladd, but since Cooper was found in Ladd’s room it’s hard to separate the two.”

  “Miss Quick, we’re here to ask you to drop that case.”

  People telling me what to do didn’t go down easy with me.

  “The Ladd case?”

  “And anything to do with Private Da
vid Cooper.”

  “Why?”

  “This is a government case,” Cagney said.

  “Cause the boys are in the army?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with me. My client is a civilian.”

  “Miss Turner. We know.”

  I kept my trap shut.

  “Miss Turner hired you four days ago to find Private Ladd, didn’t she?”

  “I can’t answer that. Privileged information.”

  “Yes, but we’re government employees.”

  “So?”

  “That gives us the right to know anything we want.”

  “I don’t think so. Anyway, I’m not tellin you who my client is.”

  They looked at each other and Grahame took over.

  “Will you tell us if you’ve found Private Ladd?”

  If I answered one question, would I have to answer them all? Whether I found Charlie or not wasn’t privileged. “No. I haven’t found him. Have you? Cause if ya have, I sure would like to know.”

  They looked at me like I’d given em a right hook.

  “Miss Quick, I don’t think you understand.”

  “Oh, sure I do. You wanna get info from me, some of which I can’t give ya. Some I can. I said I haven’t found Charlie, so what else?”

  “You found the body of Private Cooper, is that correct?”

  “Correct. You call his parents yet?”

  “We’re asking the questions.”

  “Isn’t this a give-and-take?”

  “Did you identify him?”

  “I’d never seen him before.”

  “Then did Claire Turner identify him?”

  “She didn’t identify Private Cooper cause she didn’t know him, either.”

  “She’d never met Private Cooper.”

  “Correct.”

  They looked at each other again.

  Cagney said, “Who did identify him?”

  “How come ya don’t know?”

  “We’re not at liberty to tell you that, Miss Quick. We have privileges, too.”

  “That must be nice for ya.”

  “Again. Who did identify him?”

  “I believe it was a George Cummings. A friend of the deceased.”

  “Are you trying to find out who killed Private Cooper?”

  I was and I wasn’t. My job was to find Charlie and if along the way I found out who knocked off Cooper, that’d be a bonus to the cops. But these turkeys? “No, I’m not tryin to find Cooper’s killer.”