And think about the night to come.
* * *
BY EIGHT O’CLOCK that evening, Kasey’s mood was as dark as the storm clouds that had rolled in over the city. Rain fell in sheets, and lightning flashed in jagged lines, illuminating the city’s skyline. Inside Walk-by-Windows, clouds of equal darkness hung over Chef Albert’s kitchen.
Albert stood in the middle of the large room pointing a big wooden spoon at Kasey. “‘Ow could you do this to me, Kasey?”
“Do what, Albert? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Pleeze to look.” He aimed the spoon away from Kasey and toward the counter. “All of theese lobsters. Always, I make the order, and the last time, you tell me I order too much of the lobster. Is not true?” His face was turning red.
“Yes, it’s true.”
“But I use them all, is not true?” He pointed the spoon back at Kasey.
She nodded. “I didn’t realize you were perfecting your new dish, Albert. You went over my budget, but it worked out, I believe. We’ll get a good review from Mattison Monroe. That will more than make up for the cost of the extra lobster.”
“But what ‘appens about the extra cost of theese lobsters. You worry about cost, then why do you go over my head and bring to me three times the lobster as I need? Why you do thees to me, Kasey?”
“I do not do thees to you, Albert,” she said, and then caught herself. “I mean, you’re the one with the tendency to overorder. Not me.”
He didn’t appear to be listening. “Even if we get the good review and everyone come to have my Lobster Albert, theese are too many.” As his face got redder, his voice got louder.
“Albert, listen to me. I didn’t—”
“And it ‘appens at dinnertime when I am over my elbows in orders. Where to put so much of lobster? What to do?”
“I don’t know, Albert, but I didn’t place the order,” she said quickly before he could interrupt again.
“Then ‘ow it shows up ‘ere, eh, if I do not make and you do not make? Thees is what I wish to know.” His face was beet red now. “You are in charge, or so I believe. Look what you do to me. Mon Dieu, ‘ow can I use all theese lobsters?”
“I’m sure we can think of something, Albert.” Kasey kept her voice low, hoping to bring Albert’s thundering down to her level. The last thing she wanted was for patrons seated near the kitchen to hear the chef’s tirade.
“Is impossible to keep them all alive. I ‘ave not enough tanks.”
“Fill up some pots and pans with water and dump the lobsters in them.”
“How can I do thees?” Albert shook his head in disbelief that Kasey would suggest such a thing. “Each pot, each pan, I need for my cooking. Theese lobsters, they will be crawling out of the tank while I am try to cook dinner for sixty patrons, and with only one sous chef.” He looked around to see the young man at the stove, in white pants, shirt, apron and hat, staring with open mouth.
“See? He stops to look. Cook, cook!” he ordered.
The sous-chef closed his mouth and began to furiously stir a sauce on the stove.
Soon, theese lobsters, they will be walking out zee door into zee restaurant,” Albert said.
“We’ll stop short of a lobster rebellion, Albert. That I promise.”
“Hmmph,” he said.
“I’ll call the wholesaler right away and find out what’s going on. Maybe I can convince him to take some of the lobster back.”
“Thees is good,” he said. “But you understand, I must tell Fred about all that is ‘appen.”
“I understand. In fact, I’ll tell Fred myself.” Kasey grimaced when she thought about the manager’s reaction and the extra cost to the restaurant. “The point is, I didn’t order all the lobster, Albert. I didn’t order any of it. But now we’re crawling with lobster, to use an unfortunate term,” she said, waiting for Albert to pick up on that theme.
“Yes, and soon they crawl—”
“I know. Out of the kitchen into the patrons’ laps.”
“So who ‘as done thees to you, ma petite? Who wishes to cause you so much of problems?”
“Good question, Albert, and I think I know the answer.”
* * *
JUDY STUCK her head into the kitchen. “Kasey, can I talk to you? We have a problem.”
Kasey groaned aloud and headed for the door as one of the lobsters crawled out of its packing box and dropped to the floor in front of her. She looked at Albert, who shrugged while the sous-chef rushed over, picked it up, nimbly avoiding the claws, smiled broadly at Kasey and tossed the lobster back in the box.
Albert’s prediction was coming true very quickly, Kasey thought as she waited to hear the most recent bad news from Judy, who didn’t seem to notice the lobster invasion.
“It’s that reservation you took for the party of twelve. They haven’t showed yet, and I have patrons waiting to be seated.”
Kasey followed Judy into the dining room. “Let me make a call first, and I’ll be right there,” she said.
“Kasey—”
“This can’t wait, Judy.”
“Neither can—”
But Kasey was on her way to the phone. While Judy waited impatiently, she begged, implored and argued her way into a deal with the wholesaler. He finally agreed to take back at least half the lobster but only after he was convinced she hadn’t placed the order.
When Kasey hung up, she had visions of cold lobster salad for days to come, but that was better than the lobster attack on the patrons anticipated by Albert.
“Okay,” she said to Judy. “Next problem.”
As they walked toward the reservations desk, Judy told her, “According to the log, your party of twelve was supposed to arrive at seven-thirty. It’s after eight now. I had to rearrange section three to make room for this group. And they’re still not here.” She gestured toward the table. Twelve empty chairs in an otherwise packed restaurant.
Kasey nodded wordlessly.
“There’re twice that many patrons waiting in the bar for their tables,” Judy reminded her. “And I’ve turned away a whole slew of people without reservations. Angry people, who weren’t that wild about going back out into the rain when they saw a dozen empty seats. Since you made the reservation, I thought—”
Kasey glanced at the book. “Yep, here it is, and I made it. Party of twelve. H. Johnson.” She picked up the reservations phone, punched in the number, listened and then slammed down the receiver.
“What—”
“H. Johnson is the Howard Johnson Hotel.”
“Kasey, what’s going on?” Judy asked.
“I’ve been wondering about that most of the night. Since this afternoon, actually,” she said, thinking of the hang-ups on her home phone. “I think I’ve figured it out. Carl Dandridge is behind all of this.”
“He made the reservation?”
“Hear me out, Judy. First, he threatened me in person and then again when he talked to Fred. Today, he started harassing me. I got hang-ups every time the phone rang at my apartment this morning. Then I arrived at work only to find that an army of lobster had taken over the kitchen, ordered—supposedly—by me, the wholesaler said. Obviously, someone impersonating me. And now this, taking reservations for people who don’t exist.”
“Didn’t you recognize his voice when he called?”
Kasey thought about that for a moment. “It wasn’t Carl. A woman made the reservation, at his insistence, I’m sure, probably the same woman who impersonated me to order the lobster.” She looked at Judy through narrowed eyes. “I’ve had it with this guy, Judy. This is going to stop.”
“Uh-oh, that look makes me nervous. Are you planning to do something foolish?”
“I don’t know whether it’s foolish or not, but I’m going to do something. I’m going to confront the sneaky bastard and I’m going to do it tonight.” She slammed down the reservations book and headed toward the office. “I’m getting his address and going to his apartment now.�
��
“No, you aren’t.” Judy grabbed Kasey’s arm. “That’s insane. Wait—”
“I’m not waiting. I’m settling the problem once and for all.”
“This could be dangerous,” Judy said, lowering her voice. “I’ll go back to the office with you and we can talk, maybe figure out—”
Kasey shook off her friend’s hand and kept walking.
“Please, be sensible.” Judy walked along beside Kasey. “Remember when you had the confrontation with Carl? It was scary, wasn’t it?”
Kasey hesitated. “Well...”
“I know it was, and you weren’t alone with him. You were in a restaurant full of people.”
They reached the office, and Kasey replied honestly, “I actually was alone, way back here with no one close by. And I was a little frightened at first. But I knew I could handle him. Or at least I thought I could. I didn’t really have to put myself to the test,” she remembered, “because one of the busboys came by and scared him off.”
“See? What do you think will happen when you come face-to-face with him, alone, in his apartment?”
“You’re right,” Kasey admitted.
“So you’re not going?”
Kasey pushed open the office door. “I’m still going.” She opened the file drawer and pulled out the employee records. “But I’m not going alone. You’re going to lend me a protector, your most pumped-up waiter would be a good choice. That’s probably Rinaldo, huh?
“Absolutely. Lifts weights, studies karate. A real specimen, our Rinaldo. Not much of a waiter, but what the hell? At a time like this, we discover his worth. I’ll go round him up,” Judy said.
“Great.” Kasey pulled Carl’s card from the file. “Tell him what’s going on and ask him to hail a taxi.”
After Judy left, Kasey wrote down Carl’s address, put on her raincoat and gathered up the courage to confront Carl.
Judy was waiting at the front door.
“Did you send Rinaldo for a taxi?”
“Yes, but before you go—”
“No more advice, please. I can handle this problem.”
“I’m sure. But there’s another problem that’s more immediate. There’s a woman in the bar raising hell.”
Kasey cursed under her breath.
“She says she’s going to sue but no one can figure out why. She’s ranting and raving—”
“Tell Rinaldo to hold the taxi. I’ll be right out.” Wondering what more could possibly go wrong, Kasey went into the bar.
Candles flickered romantically at the oak tables. The bartender wiped his already shining bar. Patrons waiting for their tables chatted quietly. In the sports corner, two men watched a ball game on television.
Kasey crossed to the bar. “Where is she, Mack?”
The bartender put down his cloth. “You mean the crazy redhead?”
“I guess. The one who was threatening to sue us.”
Mack laughed. “Yeah. Said I watered her gin. I didn’t but somebody should! She just walked out the side door, still going strong. Maybe you can catch her.”
Kasey went to the door and looked out into the rainy night. A woman in a dark raincoat was getting into a cab. She didn’t have an umbrella, and drops of rain shimmered in her brilliant bottle-red hair.
Deciding there wasn’t time tonight for a confrontation, Kasey let the woman go and returned to the bar where Judy was waiting with Mack. “Do either of you know her?” she asked.
Judy shook her head.
“Never seen her before,” Mack said. “Looks like a real strange dame. Kinda put together wrong, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean,” Kasey said with a laugh. “But I’m not going to worry about her tonight. She didn’t seem to bother anyone.”
“Nope. ‘Fact, it was a kinda interesting show. The guys watching the ball game even took it in for a couple of minutes.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s the last show of the night.”
“It might be if you stay put,” Judy volunteered.
But Kasey was already heading for the front door. “Not a chance. Where’s Rinaldo?”
“Waiting with the cab, just like you asked. But please be careful, Kasey. Don’t do anything foolish.”
“This isn’t foolish,” Kasey replied. “This is one of the smartest things I’ve done.”
* * *
THE TAXI, slowed by the rain, crept north on Broadway, inch by inch. Horns blared pointlessly as drivers cursed each other, the city and the weather.
It didn’t seem to bother Rinaldo, who took advantage of the available time to describe his physical prowess in the art of karate. If he were only half as skillful as he boasted, Kasey decided, she’d be in no danger from Carl. Or from anyone in the Western Hemisphere.
But Kasey didn’t pay much attention to Rinaldo’s bravado. She was lost in her own thoughts, mentally putting the pieces of the Carl Dandridge puzzle together. Most of them fitted. The bullying threats. The harassing phone calls. The stupid tricks to cause problems at the restaurant. All of that was vintage Carl, underhanded, devious and cowardly.
But the subway push? That was different. She could understand Carl’s trying to make life miserable for her, but she couldn’t imagine him trying to kill her. Besides, she hadn’t seen Carl at the subway station and he wasn’t the type to go out dancing, dressed up in costume, with a throng of party goers. Not Carl, not from what she knew of him and his contempt for the dance-club crowd.
She sat back with a sigh. Could he have followed her into the subway, mingled with the crowd, maybe even swiped someone’s costume or mask—she wouldn’t put that past him—and then decided to push her, not to kill her, but just to frighten her. That was more Carl’s style. “The mealy little bastard,” she said aloud.
“What is it, Kasey?”
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud about Carl, I guess.”
“Cussing out loud is more like it. But that’s okay, Kasey. I’m not one of those guys who thinks gals shouldn’t talk tough.”
“Oh, please, Rinaldo. Just saying that makes you one of those guys.”
“No, really, Kasey—”
“Don’t worry. Your attitude doesn’t bother me, Rinaldo, as long as you can help me handle Carl.”
The taxi stopped at a shabby brownstone near Columbia University, and Kasey asked the driver to wait. “We won’t be very long.”
Rinaldo rolled his shoulders and flexed his biceps as they climbed the steps to the apartment porch. “I’m ready, Kasey. I can take Carl. And it’s gonna be a real pleasure.”
“I’m glad you’re confident,” Kasey told him. “But remember that you’re only here to show force, not to use it.”
Kasey perused the tenant list at the front door. “I don’t see his name.” She rechecked the address she’d written down. “This is the right number, but there’s no Carl Dandridge listed.”
“How about this one, apartment four? There’s no name by the buzzer.”
“You’re right. Let’s try it.” Kasey rang the buzzer for apartment four.
There was no response.
“Here, let me ring,” Rinaldo said. “Maybe you didn’t press hard enough.”
Kasey let him give it a try, without commenting that muscles didn’t really come into play when ringing door buzzers.
“I guess he’s not here,” she said finally. “If that’s even him. I’m going to try apartment one.”
“Good idea. That’s probably the super.”
The response came quickly, the high-pitched voice of a woman asking what they wanted.
“We’re looking for Carl Dandridge,” Kasey said into the intercom. “Can you help us?”
After a long silence, the buzzer rang, and they opened the door and went into the building. At the end of a long narrow hallway, a door opened halfway to reveal a tiny woman.
Kasey approached, Rinaldo at her side. “Are you the superintendent?”
“That’s me. But if y
ou’re looking for Carl, he ain’t in, honey. Sorry.” She looked through the crack in the door with rheumy blue eyes.
“We’d like to wait for him, if that’s possible. My name is Kasey Halliday. Carl used to work at Walk-by-Windows, where I’m acting manager.”
“Yeah, I know the place you mean. Real fancy. Didn’t quite suit Carl, seemed to me.”
Kasey let that remark go by. “When do you expect he’ll be back?”
“Never,” the old woman said with a cackle.
“What do you mean?”
The woman smirked. “Carl don’t live in this building anymore. He moved out.”
“When?”
“Oh, four, no, five days ago.” She ventured to open the door all the way. “Looks like that surprises you and your friend.”
“Did he leave an address?”
“Sure did. Care of his sister out in California. She sent him a ticket. I saw it myself. Carl was glad to get out of New York, he said.”
Kasey frowned in disbelief. “Are you sure he left five days ago?” It made no sense. The incident at the subway, the phone calls, the games at the restaurant, had all happened since then. “That can’t be possible.”
“I know what I know,” the woman said firmly. “Carl don’t live here anymore. He paid up his rent, packed his bags and moved to California. I already forwarded mail to him out there, and that’s where he is.” She crossed her arms over her bony chest almost triumphantly.
“Could I have his new address?” Kasey asked, still not willing to believe that Carl was gone.
“No, you cannot,” the woman answered sharply. “If you want to reach Carl, write him a letter to this address and I’ll be glad to forward it to him. Now I got things to do,” she said, and before Kasey could respond, the woman closed the door.
“It’s not fair,” Rinaldo said as they headed for the waiting taxi.
Kasey didn’t reply. She wasn’t overly concerned that Rinaldo hadn’t had the opportunity to show his prowess.
On the return trip to Walk-by-Windows, Kasey ignored Rinaldo’s declarations about what he would have done if he’d got his hands on Carl, and attempted to rearrange the pieces of the puzzle inside her head.
Stranger in My Arms Page 9