His mournful eyes gleamed.
He said Purdue our Princess Sonia is married to a man who served in your old artillery battalion.
I shrugged.
I said that doesn’t mean a helluva lot.
I said that insignia has been around since Christ was a corporal.
Grogan shook his head obstinately.
He said not so.
He said it was active for less than five years.
He said your unit was formed shortly before you enlisted and it was broken up immediately after your discharge.
I shrugged.
I said well there was some question as to whether it should have been put together in the first place.
Grogan said bad?
I said well let’s just say that we experienced pronounced difficulties with reference points and range and deflection.
I said I don’t want to get into the subject.
Grogan said war is hell.
I said Major General Howard B. Davis made mention of that when we leveled the officers’ mess tent at division headquarters.
I said with Major General Howard B. Davis in it.
Grogan said well any damn thing can happen in combat.
I said true.
I said but this was during maneuvers.
Grogan said okay Purdue here’s our gambit.
He said next weekend you will attend a conveniently scheduled reunion of your artillery battalion at the Reggis Arms here in Chicago.
He said most military reunions fall flat on their faces but this one won’t.
He said all expenses will be paid by an unnamed wealthy sponsor.
He said transportation and room and meals and drinks and the whole shot.
I said of course wives will be invited and Sonia will be one of them.
Grogan said precisely.
He said we have an absolutely fantastic percentage of acceptances.
I said well you just got yourself one refusal.
Grogan said Purdue there’s no way you’re going to refuse.
I said try me.
Grogan said look I’ve already had a friendly little chat with Kellis J. Ammson and he has so very generously consented to permit your return to the practice of private investigation.
He said we’ll get the Pine Grove officials off your back.
He said we’ll replace the VFW’s howitzer and we’ll square accounts with the railroad.
He said and as a bonus we’ll arrange for a certain Internal Revenue Service file to wind up in the paper shredder.
I said I got no problem with Internal Revenue.
Grogan said well I dislike bringing this up but there is a matter of unreported income amounting to something in excess of two hundred thousand dollars.
I said Grogan your adding machine has freaked out.
I said I haven’t made that much money since I was born.
Grogan said not you Purdue.
He said your wife.
He said she was in a much different profession then.
He said shall we say call girl?
I said yes let’s.
I said Betsy gets awful mad if you say whore.
21
…oncet I knowed a woman what had the whole text of War and Peace tattooed on her belly…cost her sixty thousand dollars and she couldn’t even read…
Monroe D. Underwood
I stood with one foot up on the sink board.
I listened to rain bludgeon the city.
Sirens writhed through the night.
The beer cooler was clanking again.
After a long wait Grogan said well Purdue what do you say?
I shrugged.
I said I guess you got me by the short hair.
Grogan smiled a crocodile smile.
He said it’s made to order.
He said Purdue you can circulate in this group without the slightest taint of suspicion.
I said what the hell good will it do me to circulate if Sonia doesn’t show?
Grogan said she’ll show.
I said Grogan you’ll be lucky if you draw five females.
I said I know these guys.
I said they’ll leave their own wives at home so they can take a run at somebody else’s wife.
Grogan said you’re talking about then.
He said this is now.
He said they’ve simmered down over the years.
I said don’t you bet a dime on it.
Grogan said we’re betting more than dimes.
He said we’re betting maybe thirty grand in reunion expenses plus the kingdom of Kaleski and the future of NATO and all the goddam ibiothane on earth.
I said can’t you give me something to go on?
I said like maybe Sonia’s bald-headed or she likes garlic sandwiches or she has a pet giraffe or some damn thing.
Grogan scratched his head.
He said well Sonia’s in her middle thirties but that’s about all we have.
He snapped his fingers and said wait a second.
He said she probably has a tattoo.
I said where?
Grogan said where it would be least noticeable of course.
I said well if that’s where it is I give you my word of honor I’m not about to go looking for it.
I said a man could get killed that way.
Grogan sighed.
He said it’s on the bottom of her left heel Purdue.
He said an old Kaleskian custom where royalty was concerned.
I said what does it say?
Grogan said it’s just a little blue crown.
He said it’s so damned small it’s doubtful that Sonia even knows she has it.
I said doesn’t she ever take a bath?
Grogan said such tattoos were applied at birth.
He said Sonia may regard hers as nothing more than a birthmark.
I said well Grogan you’ve made the whole thing childishly simple.
I said I just tell all the ladies to line up and take off their pantyhose and stand on their heads.
Grogan stretched and yawned.
He put his manila envelope away.
He walked to the jukebox and put a coin in it.
He came back and put his hand on my shoulder.
He said check in at the Reggis Arms at six on Friday evening.
He said you’ll have a reservation.
He said don’t discuss this with anyone.
I said what about my wife?
I said Betsy worries about me.
Grogan said just tell her that you have an assignment but be vague.
He said no particulars for God’s sake.
He said there’s too much at stake.
I shrugged.
Grogan said Brandy Alexander will be working this case with you.
He said Brandy will be in charge and you just couldn’t imagine a nicer boss.
I said how do I get in touch with Brandy Alexander?
Grogan said oh Brandy will probably just walk up and say hi there I’m Brandy Alexander.
He said Brandy’s very outgoing.
We shook hands.
Grogan said three cheers for Barbara Frietchie.
The jukebox busted loose with Alte Kameraden.
Grogan lumbered out.
Smiling.
22
…oncet God seen a woman with a gun…He knelt right down and prayed…
Monroe D. Underwood
I closed the place and went upstairs.
Betsy was sprawled on our beige bedspread in her blue pajamas.
She was reading a copy of Ancient Athens.
She looked up and winked at me.
She smiled.
Her tawny hair was tousled and her pale blue eyes were dancing.
Beyond doubt I had married the most beautiful blonde on the face of Planet Earth.
Betsy closed her book with a thump.
She said oh good gosh the things they did.
I said who?
Betsy said those old Greeks.
I said well those young Greeks were no slouches either.
I took a bottle of Old Washensachs from the refrigerator and went into the living room.
I sat on our blue couch and kicked off my shoes.
I stretched my legs over our beige coffee table.
I put my beer on a blue cork coaster and lit a humpbacked Camel with a blue ceramic table lighter.
I sat back and watched our blue velvet drapes cascade to our blue nylon carpeting.
When Betsy came in I was reading “The Bloody Clouds of Ardennes” by Arch Blockhouse.
Betsy perched beside me.
She said Chance is Old Washensachs a good beer?
I shrugged.
I said as good as any.
I said better than most.
Betsy said I just love the label.
She said blue letters on a beige background.
She said my very favorite colors.
I said oh really?
Betsy looped a smooth golden arm around my neck.
She said why so grumpy big daddy?
She said I’m sorry I mentioned the old Greeks.
I said screw the old Greeks.
I said I’m worried about the middle-aged Americans.
I said you got to keep a close eye on those bastards.
Betsy gave me a long pale-blue-eyed look.
She said what chewed on my love this evening?
I shrugged.
I said Betsy I have to be gone over the weekend.
Betsy said to where?
I said the Reggis Arms.
Betsy said that dump.
I said how do you know it’s a dump?
Betsy said I had to make a call or two there.
I said in your halcyon days?
Betsy said never mind.
She said these are the finest days of my life.
She said why are you going to the Reggis Arms?
I said this guy Grogan is a government man.
I said he wants me to help him out on a case.
Betsy said such as?
I said such as sitting around the hotel and waiting for a certain party to put in an appearance.
I said it’s no big deal.
Betsy said it sounds like it could be awfully dull.
I said Jesus I hope so.
Betsy said are you forgetting your agreement with Ammson?
I said Grogan got me out of it.
I said Grogan is a very persuasive fellow.
I said you would be utterly amazed by Grogan’s persuasiveness.
Betsy said honey you know I worry about you.
She said tell me the truth.
She said is there any danger in this?
I said certainly not.
I said Betsy do you have a gun?
Betsy said I had one when I was in the business.
She said I didn’t know the first damn thing about it and it scared me to death.
She said I haven’t seen it since we left my old apartment.
She said if this isn’t dangerous why would you want a gun?
I said I didn’t say I wanted one.
I said I just asked if you had one.
Betsy said yes but why would you ask if you didn’t want to use it?
I said Betsy just forget it.
Betsy said oh no.
She said I want to know what you’re up to.
She said every time you get involved in something like this you end up in jail.
I said well that’s better than you ending up in jail.
I said can we scrounge up some sort of bartender for a couple of nights?
Betsy frowned.
She said Old Dad Underwood will work for nothing.
I said well Betsy it doesn’t quite come out that way.
I said Old Dad Underwood works for nothing but he drinks eighteen dollars an hour.
Betsy said sweetheart that must be some kind of hangover you’re nursing.
I shrugged.
I said it isn’t the greatest but it figures to make the top ten.
Betsy popped into my lap.
She nibbled on my lower lip with snowy white teeth.
She smacked her lips and said mmmmmmm delicious.
She said what you need is a night’s sleep.
She tickled the tip of my tongue with hers.
She said shall I arrange it?
I smiled.
Betsy feigned a horrified expression.
She said oh Lord Chance don’t smile.
She said you’ll break that handsome face.
She unbuttoned the blouse of her blue pajamas.
She took it off and draped it over our beige coffee table.
She took a deep breath and leaned in my direction.
She said you like?
I shrugged.
I said they’re awfully hard on the eyes when they’re up this close.
Betsy said well baby don’t strain your eyes.
She leaned back and turned off our blue table lamp with the beige shade.
She said honey try braille.
She said uh-huh.
She said that’s it.
She said oooooh that’s it.
She said Chance Purdue I’ll give you just five million years to get out of my life.
23
…Edgar Allan Poe got married…spent the rest of his life writing horror stories…
Monroe D. Underwood
The Reggis Arms loomed lopsidedly in the sixty-one hundred block of Reggis Boulevard.
It was a rambling five-story gray stone monstrosity set well back from the thoroughfare.
Undoubtedly it had been designed by an architect who had gone stark staring mad on National Geographic magazines.
It had Norman turrets and Grecian pillars and Roman porticoes and Spanish balconies.
It had round windows and square windows and diamond-shaped windows and triangular windows.
At one time it might have been reasonably prestigious but years of poor maintenance and second-rate management had nearly done the old rock pile in.
I parked in the cracked-macadam lot.
I turned the tape deck off halfway through Alte Kameraden.
I tucked my three-cell flashlight under my belt.
I grabbed my suitcase and picked my way through puddles and crushed beer cans to a short flight of crumbling steps shielded by a wind-tattered black canopy.
There was no doorman and I stepped into a wide hallway carpeted in stained worn scarlet and fitfully illuminated by a single flickering fluorescent bulb.
A large black cat bowed his back and hissed at me.
I wondered if Edgar Allan Poe had ever stopped at the Reggis Arms.
I could see the desk just beyond the end of the hallway.
A very old woman stood behind it.
She wore a high-collared dark dress with a tiny World War I service pin at the throat.
She was rolling a cigarette.
I dropped my suitcase and said Purdue.
The old woman finished her cigarette with a flourish.
She said there by God.
She held it up and admired it.
Her hands were quite steady.
She said it looks exactly like a tailor-made except the ends are a little bit frizzled.
I said do you have a reservation for Purdue?
There was something vaguely familiar about her.
I attributed it to the aura of loneliness that seems to hover about the very old.
She checked the register.
She said Chance Purdue?
I said yes ma’am.
She said you look as though your first name would be Chance.
She said it seems to be the only name that would fit you.
She said isn’t it funny about first names?
I shrugged.
I said yes ma’am hilarious.
She said now just what do you think my first name would be?
I studied
her for several seconds and smiled.
I said I believe I’d have to figure you for either an Agatha or a Myrtle.
Her keen old eyes searched my face.
She said you don’t get two guesses.
I said okay make it Agatha.
The old woman shook her head slowly.
Her eyes were glued to mine.
She said it’s Myrtle.
She said Myrtle Grady.
She said I got married last month.
I said that’s nice.
Myrtle said my husband’s the bartender here.
I grinned.
I said does he keep you out of trouble?
Myrtle said oh yes he’s an ex-policeman.
I said about my reservation.
Myrtle said you’re in room 306.
She winked at me.
She said the key is already in the room.
I shrugged.
I said where’s the lounge?
Myrtle pointed through the lobby to a hallway.
She said first door to your right.
She said for God’s sake don’t open the one across the hall.
She said that’s Nellie Callahan’s broom closet and Nellie’s very particular about it.
I picked up my suitcase.
Myrtle Grady said God bless you Mr. Purdue.
24
…preparedness is knowing enough to go to the washroom when it’s your turn to buy…
Monroe D. Underwood
In the lobby I paused to look at a large chrome-framed board on a tripod.
On it was a glossy eight-by-ten of a white-haired oriental with a bulldog face.
A crudely lettered placard announced that Admiral Yogo Takashita Japanese Imperial Navy Retired would give a series of lectures for the benefit of the American True Blue Society.
He would just have to be the same Admiral Yogo Takashita who wrote poetry for the Kamikaze Veterans’ Digest.
Once I had memorized a portion of one of his poems.
I noted that the President of the American True Blue Society was Vito Cool Lips Chericola.
I wondered if he was any relation to the Vito Cool Lips Chericola who was Chicago’s Mafia boss.
The times and titles of the lectures were listed.
On Saturday at two-thirty The Sin of Unpreparedness.
On Saturday at eight The Awful Price of Unpreparedness.
On Sunday at two-thirty The Besta Defense Is a Gooda Offense.
I took a barstool in the lounge.
A grizzled old bartender was staring apprehensively into the hallway.
The Reggis Arms Caper Page 4