“Why not? Never mind,” Cagney said. “We want you to stop looking for Private Ladd.”
“Why?”
“I thought you understood. Ladd is the government’s problem.”
“So what? Wouldn’t it be a good thing if I found him for ya?”
“Miss Quick. You must cease and desist.”
“And if I don’t? The stockade for me?”
They stood up like they were Siamese twins. “We’ve warned you, Miss Quick. You may no longer search for Private Ladd.”
“Or?”
“We’ll have you arrested.”
“So it is the stockade then.” I stubbed out my butt.
“You’re a private citizen. You’ll go to a regular jail.”
I thought they were full of it, but I went along so they’d get outta my crib. “Okay. Now ya got me worried.”
Grahame said, “Somehow, Miss Quick, I very much doubt it. But don’t underestimate us. Good morning.”
When they were gone, I called Marty at his precinct, and miracle of miracles the mug was there. I told him about my visit.
“They can’t stop ya, Faye.”
“I didn’t think so. But I wonder why they’d want to.”
“Probably routine. I’ll try to find out. But I got some news. Mrs. Ladd’s gone home. Couldn’t take it. Mr. Ladd’s still here. Also, Raymond and Thelma Cooper are in town.”
“Where?”
“The Hotel Astor. They got in last night.”
“Ya know the room number?”
“Fourteen twenty.”
“Thanks, Marty. You’re the top.”
“Ya goin to see the Coopers?”
“Guess.”
FIFTEEN
The Hotel Astor was in Times Square between Forty-fourth and Forty-fifth on Broadway. The streets were crowded with Saturday tourists, there to see the shows and eat in the restaurants. Maybe take in a double bill. I took a look-see at the zipper going around the Times building. It said: RAF BOMBS GERMANY ROCKET BASE PEENEMUNDE. I didn’t wait to see what was coming next.
The hotel was red brick and had a mansard roof. Its lobby was jam-packed with lots of Chinese curios, Louis the something furnishings, geegaws, and stuff I couldn’t name. It reminded me of pictures of Victorian parlors, only much bigger.
Since I had the room number I didn’t have to bump heads with the clerks behind the desk and went directly to the elevators. Although I’d changed from slacks to a dress the bunch waiting with me looked like they were coming from either a wedding or a funeral except they weren’t wearing black.
When the elevator came, we all rushed in like it was the last elevator on earth and yelled out our floors.
A tall, stylishly dressed woman said to another, “Well, the summer’s over.”
“It is?”
They talked as loud as if they were in their own house. Everyone else was silent.
“Once you’ve passed the Fourth, that’s it. You’ll see. We’ll be celebrating Christmas before you can say Jiminy Cricket. You have plans, Hazel?”
“For what?”
“Christmas, of course.”
“You know, Frances, sometimes I think your head’s not screwed on right.”
The operator called five and the women got off. When the doors closed behind them, I heard snickering. A lotta glances and smiles were exchanged and I felt like I was in cahoots with these strangers. I sorta liked the feeling.
After that, each person getting off said goodbye to the rest of us, so when we got to fourteen I did the same.
Right next to the elevator there was a plaque pointing one way to 1401 to 1410 and the other way to 1411 to 1420. I went to the right, all the way to the end.
When I knocked and a man asked who it was, I said, “Room service.” I wouldna tried that except for the war. This was a man’s job ordinarily. Now any job could be had by a girl.
“I didn’t order . . . ,” he said as he opened up. “You’re not room service.”
“No, I’m not.” I gave him my spiel about who I was and why I was there and he let me in.
Mr. Cooper had a small mustache, like Charlie Chaplin, and his brown eyes were set close together with bushy brows above them. He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, and blue tie. Around his arm was a black band. He had a prissy look about him, as if he’d been dressed by his mother.
“Would you like to sit down?”
“Thanks.” There were two armchairs in the room. I took the one facing the windows and he took the other. I wondered where Mrs. Cooper was gonna sit when she came outta the bathroom, which is where I assumed she was.
“First, let me tell ya how sorry I am about your son.”
“Thank you.” He reached into his pocket and took out a nice-looking cigarette case. “Would you care for one?”
“I have my own, thanks.” I took my Camels from my pocketbook, shook one out. Mr. Cooper was ready with a match. After he lit his own he dropped the dead match in the ashtray between us on a little table.
“Do ya know Private Ladd, Mr. Cooper?”
“No. Our son wrote to us about him but we never met him. David never brought home any of his army friends.”
“Where are ya from again?”
“Pittsburgh.”
“Were ya expectin to see David on this leave?”
“Yes. We were very worried when he didn’t appear on Sunday. We knew he was in New York, but he only planned to stay two nights. He was coming home on Sunday because that’s when he could travel.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I wanted to get to other questions. “You didn’t know what hotel he was stayin at?”
“Yes, I did. David called us on Friday when he got in. I asked where he was staying and he told me.”
“Did he say anything that might be important?”
“I don’t understand.” Irritably, he blew out a puff of smoke.
“Somethin that might be a clue as to what happened to him.”
“What could that possibly be?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m askin you.”
“He reversed the charges as we’d told him to do. It was a short conversation. He confirmed that he’d be home Sunday. He was taking an early-morning train.”
“Did ya go to pick him up at the station?”
“Yes. Thelma was with me. She was so excited to see him.”
I knew he was, too, even if he couldn’t say it. “What happened when David didn’t get off the train?”
“Well, Thelma was naturally in a panic. We drove straight home and phoned the Commodore. I had them ring his room. No answer so I signaled for the desk. They said he hadn’t checked out and his key was not in his box.”
“Did ya ask for Ladd’s room?” I took a drag.
“Not then. It didn’t occur to me. But about an hour later I called back, and after trying David’s room to no avail I asked for Private Ladd’s room. No answer there, either, and he hadn’t checked out.”
“What’d ya think had happened?”
“To tell you the truth I was baffled. I kept trying to contact my son and Private Ladd, and finally Ladd picked up.”
“Did he know where David was?”
“He said as far as he knew he’d taken the train for Pittsburgh. I told him David hadn’t checked out. Ladd seemed evasive.”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“I asked more questions and he danced around them. Finally I confronted him. I told him I thought he knew where David was.”
“And what’d he say?”
“He hesitated, said he did but he’d be betraying David if he told us. That made me very angry and I threatened Ladd with the police.” He crushed out his cig in the ashtray.
“He didn’t like that, did he?”
“Who would? So he told me. He said David had met a girl and he was probably with her. He didn’t know where the girl lived or who she was.”
Gloria Lane. Maybe she knew more than she’d let on.
“Was t
hat it? I mean did ya talk anymore?”
“No. Thelma wanted me to go to New York right then. But I said he was sowing his wild oats and didn’t need me to butt in.”
“And when ya couldn’t reach him for days?”
“I got very angry. Thelma was hysterical.”
“Did ya call the police?”
“Of course not. I didn’t want to embarrass the boy. I made plans to come in myself. And then we got the call.” He slumped like a sunken soufflé.
“It musta been terrible for ya.”
“Thelma needed to be sedated right away.”
“What did David write to ya about Charlie Ladd?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “Not much. Just that they were good buddies, as he put it.”
“Did he write about anyone else?”
“I suppose so but I can’t think of their names right now.”
I nodded in understanding. What I didn’t understand was why Mrs. Cooper didn’t come out of the bathroom.
“Do ya have any idea who coulda done this to David?” Did he know his son was found naked?
“I can’t imagine, Miss Quick. I simply can’t imagine.”
I hadda ask. “Is Mrs. Cooper gonna join us?”
“Thelma didn’t come with me. She’s still under sedation. David was our only son.”
“So ya have a daughter?”
“Two. I don’t understand why he was found in Private Ladd’s room. Why wouldn’t he be left in his own room?”
“Have ya talked to the police about this?”
“Yes. I spent yesterday afternoon with them before I saw David’s body.”
What could it be like to have to view your dead son? “I thought he was already identified.”
“Yes. Or they never would’ve called us. Cummings I think. I don’t know him.”
“George Cummings. He only met David once. But he was able to identify him. Why did the police need ya for that?”
“They didn’t. I wanted to see him. I had to see him. To be sure. To never wonder.”
“I understand.” And I did. “I know that life will never be the same for you and Mrs. Cooper.”
He looked at me strangely.
“What did the cops say about David bein in Charlie’s room?”
“They didn’t know why he was there. But it was clear they thought Ladd did it, because he’s missing. Did you know that, Miss Quick? Did you know Private Ladd was missing?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“So what does that suggest to you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’ll tell you what it suggests to me. It suggests that Ladd had something to do with my son’s murder.”
I wanted to tell him that Charlie’d been kidnapped, but I was afraid he’d tell the police.
“And I’ll tell you what’s completely baffling. David wrote me that he was going to share a room with Charles. They’d save money that way.”
“When did he write ya that?”
“In his last letter.”
Come to think of it, why hadn’t they shared a room? Maybe Charlie being Charlie wanted to get Claire into his lair and ravage her.
“In his letter did David say sharin a room was all planned or was it an idea he had?”
“I can’t remember the exact words. I’d have to look at the letter.”
“It’s at home in Pittsburgh?”
“Yes. With all his other letters. Thelma keeps them in a beautiful box with jade inlay that she inherited from her mother.”
“Do ya think she could find the letter and read ya that part?”
“I don’t think Thelma can do much of anything now. No. That’s out of the question. You know, Miss Quick, I’m not certain I understand what your connection is to David’s murder.”
“It’s to do with Private Ladd. Since David was found in his room their cases have gotten mixed up together. To get back to the letter. What about one of your daughters findin it?”
“Why is this so important?”
“If yer son wrote that it was a definite that they were gonna share a room and then they didn’t, that could mean the boys had a fight.”
“A fight is different from murder, Miss Quick.”
“Yes. But maybe it could tell us if they fought or not?”
“Even if David did write that it was a fait accompli, anything could have happened. They’re young boys and perhaps they decided they needed privacy.” He blushed.
“Ya mean girls?”
He nodded. “Didn’t Private Ladd have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“David didn’t, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to find one. And apparently he did, according to Ladd. His mother would be horrified to hear that, but I’m realistic.”
“When ya talk to yer daughter, do ya think ya could ask her to read that part from his last letter?”
“Yes. I will. Perhaps there’s something in it I don’t remember.”
I was glad to hear him say that. Maybe there was. “How long will ya be in town, Mr. Cooper?”
“Until the police release his . . . his body. He should have been buried the day after he was found.”
“It’s just been a few days.”
“But our custom is different.”
“Excuse me. I don’t understand.”
“We bury our dead the next day.”
I finally caught on. “Are you of the Jewish faith, Mr. Cooper?”
“Yes. If you’re wondering about our name, it was changed from Kupfermann when my parents came to the United States through Ellis Island.”
“Were ya born here?”
“Yes. A year after they settled on the Lower East Side.”
“Are ya religious, Mr. Cooper?”
“Yes.”
“Was David?”
“As a child. He had his bar mitzvah, but in high school I knew he was drifting away from it even though he went to temple with us every week. But what does our religion have to do with anything?” He stood up, his face turning a reddish color. “Everything always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know what ya mean. I was curious, that’s all. I didn’t mean to insult ya, Mr. Cooper.”
“My cousins are still in Germany. Do you have any idea . . . never mind. Is there anything else?”
My cue to beat it. I grabbed my Camels and pocketbook and stood up. “I’m very sorry to have upset ya, Mr. Cooper.”
“You didn’t upset me. You wouldn’t understand, that’s all.”
“Will ya still ask your daughter about that letter?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Lemme give ya my number.” I wrote down both office and home numbers in my notepad, tore the sheet out, and handed it to Mr. Cooper.
He looked at it like I’d written in hieroglyphics.
“You can call me anytime. Day or night.”
He nodded. “Look, Miss Quick, I’m sorry I acted the way I did a few minutes ago.”
“Think nothin of it.”
“But I do. I know you weren’t being . . . anti-Semitic.”
“No. Never.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry for my behavior.”
“Okay. Thanks for talkin with me.”
He nodded, his eyes looking somewhere past me. I left.
Back on the street my head said, What’s goin on here? I thought of Nick Jaffe at Village Cigars. It seemed like Jewish people were getting real sensitive. I never thought about whether somebody was Jewish or not. It didn’t occur to me. But what occurred to me now was that I had no idea whether I knew a lotta Jews or not. I started thinking.
Dolores was Jewish. One. That’s all I could come up with. Why didn’t I know more Jews? Why didn’t I have any Jewish friends? I didn’t put Dolores in the friend category. Had I been naïve about this Jewish thing? I knew there was anti-Semitism in the world, but I never thought of it as being in my little world. Was I an anti-Semite? Is that
why I didn’t have Jewish friends? I didn’t believe that. But what was clear was that people like me didn’t mix with Jews. Or maybe Jews didn’t mix with people like me.
Suddenly some of the things the Ladds said came flying back to me like bricks through a window. I knew their remarks made me uncomfortable when they were saying them, but I didn’t connect it.
If the acorn didn’t fall far from the tree, then was Charlie Ladd an anti-Semite?
And if he was, did it have anything to do with David Cooper’s death and Charlie being kidnapped?
SIXTEEN
I decided to go to my office since I was so close, even though it was Saturday. On my way I saw a small crowd at Duffy Square. When I got closer, I saw that it was a war bond rally. I’d bought three so I felt I’d done my part on that front.
Sometimes they had movie stars selling the bonds, but I could tell by the size of the group there weren’t any stars.
Behind the makeshift platform was the huge statue of Father Duffy, a war hero—in World War I. I’d seen the movie with Pat O’Brien and James Cagney.
The guy trying to sell the bonds didn’t look like he was doing such a great job cause people were walking away. I felt sorry for the poor schlemiel and I almost bought one. Then a pretty twist stepped up and flashed some long greens, which I felt freed me to go on my way.
First thing I did when I got into my office, after I lit up, was to call Claire.
“Thank God it’s you,” she said.
“What’s happened?”
“They called. I gotta go to Pier Eighty-eight with the hundred thousand.”
The luxury liner the Normandie sank there when it was being turned into a troopship. Eighty-eight had been a ghost pier since then.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“What time?”
“Three.”
“And yer supposed to bring the cash?”
“Yeah. Me and no one else. If I tell the cops or anybody else comes along, the guy said he’d kill Charlie.”
“You supposed to meet somebody or leave the loot somewhere?”
“There’s a green metal barrel there, musta been for trash or oil once. Anyway, it’s about three feet past a warning sign that tells ya the pier is dangerous. I’m supposed to drop the dough there and leave. Soon as they’ve got it, they’ll let Charlie go.”
Too Darn Hot Page 13