Frankly, My Detective

by Mary Keeley

  Dawson gave a derisive grunt. “Yeah, right. So if it’s so damned secure, how do you and your so-called ‘source’ know all about it? Seriously, who’s the source? Another mole in some other place?”

  Scarlett took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes before she answered.

  “The house has to be some kinda secret club. Its way out there, top of a hill on a dead-end street. Street is kinda run down and I found out somebody is buying up all the other old houses leading up to his. These other houses are far down the street and his is on a big canyon. Comings and goings mostly afternoon to evening, no big loud parties it seems, and lots of big black SUV’s bringing people in and out. Tried to talk to remaining homeowners there, the ones that haven’t been bought out. No dice. They’re either old or ‘don’t know nothing’ or other folks who don’t want to say anything, period. The houses that get bought up stay empty for a while and then either get torn down or are rented out to multiple people, so far as we can tell.”

  Dawson sat back against the dark leather cushion. “So what? You think the guy buys up lots of old houses and you know actually nothing of significance about the big one. What do you know, Salerno, really? I’m thinking you’re just enjoying wasting my time telling spooky stories.”

  Scarlett looked into her now-empty glass and wished she had another drink. Licking her dry lips she turned to the disheveled detective and met his steady gaze. “I can only say he’s dealing in the dirtiest kind of stuff, using people as throwaways and much, much worse. Something really nasty is going on and your mole is in it up to his shifty eyeballs! I know this is rough, but there are some truly innocent people involved here. Yeah, some are just caught up in it by dumb luck and maybe some greed, but hell, they really don’t deserve to die, do they? I mean a dirty cop is a terrible thing, but hiding and protecting someone who can do this much harm isn’t the right choice, is it?” Another surprise, she reached out and placed her hand on his beefy one as it lay on the shiny resin table top.

  Dawson looked down at her hand on his, and she quickly took it away. “Okay, Ms. Not Nancy Freakin Drew, what do you propose we do. How do we work this out together if you can’t or won’t tell me anything?”

  Scarlett smiled at him. “Can’t tell you all of it yet. Meanwhile, I propose, Clifford that you work really, really hard to find your mole. I know you can do that and I promise, I’ll feed you whatever info I can find to help you. As for me, well, I’ll just need one favor from you, just one.” She held up her finger and waited.

  “I’m afraid to ask, because I know it’s going to cost me somehow, I’m sure of it,” he sighed.

  “I’m going to say just the same two words Indiana Jones said to Marian: ‘Trust me’.”

  Dawson gave a short bitter laugh and raised his glass to her. “And I’m going to say what he said later on in the same movie: ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’ ”

  Scarlett grinned and raised her empty glass to him in acknowledgement.

  Declan and Maureen both turned in astonishment at the sound of loud, wicked laughter coming from the snug.

  It was very still outside the bar. A light fog that often crept in from the Pacific Ocean blurred the streetlights and left a slippery sheen on their cars and on the purple blossoms of the Jacaranda trees that lined the streets in this older neighborhood. Unperturbed by the wetness, Scarlett leaned against her rental car, arms folded across her chest as she looked up at Dawson.

  “So, you really thought the wife was in the Beemer we were both chasing?”

  Dawson, hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocked back and forth on his feet and shook his head. “Nah, with those deeply tinted windows, couldn’t be positive. But being her car, we had to pursue, just in case. Why? Do you know who was driving?”

  Scarlett gave him a crooked smile. “Cliffie, if I did, do you really think I’d tell you?”

  “But you just now agreed to …,” Dawson began.

  Scarlett straightened up and waved a finger back and forth in front of his face.

  “Cliffie, we may have agreed to work together on this case, but I’m not raking in a big fat check from the city police department. I’m out here on my own, ya know, and if I don’t protect my clients, I don’t get paid. So, yeah, some info is just mine and it has to stay that way, for a while anyway.”

  Dawson sighed and pulled his collar up against the damp. “O.K., I give up for now, Salerno. It’s getting too cold and if I stay out here in the fresh air much longer, I may just sober up. How about we talk tomorrow? Wanna meet me somewhere for dinner? It’ll give me a chance to snoop around the department for that mole you’re so sure is there.”

  Scarlett pushed a wayward strand of damp hair of her forehead. “God, what this fog does to my hair! By tomorrow you’ll be able to cut off a piece and scrub a pot with it.” She grinned up at him. “Hey, did you just ask me out on a date? Careful, Cliffie, I either rub off on people or just plain rub them the wrong way.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Besides, we really gotta get on with this case before my chief beats me over the head with it and your mystery client thinks you’re not worth your fee.”

  “Deal. Only one more thing. Did you ever really read Nancy Drew?”

  “Nah, they were my sister’s favorites.”

  “Sure they were.” Scarlett nodded, scrunching up her face in disbelief. Dawson didn’t bother to reply.

  They agreed to meet at Ulivo Ristorante in Ocean Beach at 6:30 the following night. Despite her protestations, Dawson insisted on waiting on the sidewalk until she was safely in her locked car and driving away. He stood for a while looking at her retreating tail lights before he walked to his own car. He shivered as he slid in and closed the door. He punched in the numbers on his cell phone and waited for a long time before the bored voice answered. “Police Department; this is Hooper.”

  “Hooper, Detective Dawson, badge 165 here. I need a license tail set up.”

  “Okay, sir, do you want a 24/7?”

  “Yeah, on a rental license number T14709, Toyota Corolla, dark blue. But just a tail and surveillance, not for pick up. No perp involved.”

  The clear sound of typing on the other end stopped. “Sir, if there’s no perp or suspicion of crime, I’m not sure this can be authorized.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Hooper? I’m authorizing it as of right now! Did you get that, Hooper? Put it through, or get me your supervisor, what’ll it be?”

  The typing resumed at record speed. “Got it, sir, it’s in place right now. Just tell me where the vehicle was last seen, I’ll call a unit on it right now.”

  Dawson gave Hooper the information, ended the call and drove home. He slept deeply that night, thanks to the whiskey, but his dreams disturbed him. He dreamt he was a contestant on a game show and kept missing every question having to do with movie quotes.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The two voicemail messages on Scarlett’s phone were interesting but not as informative as she’d hoped. The first was from her source in the South Bay area.

  “Hi, Scar, sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner. But all this is from about three days ago. Listen, been able to get inside the big yellow house posing as an SDG&E guy. Dontcha love that I kept all those phony uniforms and badges, now, huh? Anyway, boss man has a smooth operation all right. Big fancy place nice dining room, lounges, the whole magilla. Also, got a sexy lady assistant, Francesca somebody. Legs up to there and all business in a tight skirt. Whoa! Anyway, Filipina worker girl in the kitchen, big Ruskie chef, gorgeous barmaids and security like you wouldn’t believe. Big beefy goons everywhere, look like mercenary-type guys. Mean-ass suckers. So, smart lady that you are, your hunch seems to be on the money. I’ll send you the photos I took on my phone while nobody paid attention to me. Some layout, Geeze! Let me know if you want me to jump into another disguise and go back in. You know I got a million costumes and I do love to dress up. By the way, is my check in the mail or do we wait again for the big pay off? (Laug
hter) Love workin’ with ya, Ms.S. Ciao!”

  Scarlett let out a low whistle as she checked her email and looked briefly at the pictures he’d sent. Two pictures caught her eye and she tried to expand both but knew they’d show better on her laptop. She picked it up off of the bed and opened up the email. One she figured was of the young Filipina in the kitchen. The woman was so tiny, her face not visible because her head was bent over her work at the steel prep table. The other was clearer. It was one of the barmaids, a tall auburn-haired young woman. The camera had captured her face as she was picking up a drink order at the bar. Scarlett noticed the shy smile but there was something wary in the woman’s eyes and her body language as she stood at the bar seemed to convey tension. Then Scarlett realized her source had shot video of this woman and the lounge. Scarlett let out a low whistle and muttered, “How the hell did you get this? Fella, I have severely underestimated your talents.”

  The room was just as he said, lush and expensive looking. She watched as the young woman went about her task of delivering her tray of drinks to a table where four well-dressed men were talking and smiling. When the woman placed the drinks before each man, the last man to receive his drink reached out and stroked her arm repeatedly, smiling up at her saying something Scarlett could not make out. Watching the woman in the video put on a forced smile as she tried to casually slip away from the man’s touch, Scarlett shuddered involuntarily and rubbed the gooseflesh that had quickly risen on her own arms. Man! What a lay out is right. Dirty business must be real good, Uncle Cosmo. You are way beyond the definition of creepy! The next voicemail was a deep voice she knew, speaking nearly in a whisper.

  “Okay, so I don’t have much. What I do have is that Dawson is in major shit for not getting anything of substance on the Di Stefano murder.”

  Scarlet shook her head and hit “pause” on the message. “Well no shit, Sherlock! Some help you are.”

  The message continued. “Been getting sneak looks into the records of nearly every cop in the precinct and can’t pin anything on anyone yet. But ...” The voice paused but Scarlett could still hear breathing, so she waited. “Hell, I don’t know, just a bad vibe I guess, but I don’t want to say anything now. Not ‘till I’m more sure, ya know? But, yeah, something’s fishy and I’m gonna find out who and what and I’ll get back to you. I know you want more and so do I, but it ain’t easy, being a snoop, I mean. Not my style. Just damned hard and frustrating. Will be in touch.”

  “‘Not my style’, huh? You worthless ….” Tossing the phone on her bed in disgust, Scarlett pulled her smudged navy blue T-shirt over her head, sucking in her breath at the pain in her bruised shoulder. “Ouch! Damn! Wonder what else hurts.” She looked down at her jeans and frowned. “Yep, rips in new, expensive jeans. That’s painful. Crap.” She sat on the bed and took off her shoes, relieved that her back hurt only slightly as she bent over. Standing slowly, just in case, she slipped off her jeans and tossed them and the shirt into her overflowing hamper. “Gotta do some laundry, Scarlett,” she mumbled to herself. Sweeping her eyes around her bedroom, she shook her head at the cluttered dresser, the opened, unfinished novel and dirty whiskey glass leaving yet another ring on the nightstand, which she got at a thrift store and hated anyway, the dry cleaning still in its plastic draped over a chair. Muttering on: “And you gotta clean up around here. Rosa would have a fit if she saw this.” Another deep sigh, “Truth is, Ms. Salerno, you need a maid, a cook, a person to pick up your dry cleaning, to make an appointment to service your broken car, an assistant to pay your bills on time. In short, you need a wife! Tough to find for a straight girl like you.”

  She ran her hands again through her unruly hair, now even more frizzy from the fog. The private cell phone still in her jeans pocket began to buzz. She dug it out and smiled as she listened to the message from her mother. “Hey, Bella Mia, all is well here at the palazzo. The principessa is safe in her bed in the tower and I’m going to my own chamber now. Call me tomorrow, but not until after I’ve finished watching my stories from today— you interrupted them, you know. But I’ll catch up before I record tomorrow’s. Sleep tight, Bella Mia. Ti Voglio Bene.”

  “Ah, Mama, you and your soaps; you’re completely addicted! Some things never change,” Scarlett said aloud to the now-quiet phone. She yawned broadly and headed for the shower. Pausing to look in the full-length mirror as the water heated up, she sighed, "Dear God, why couldn’t you have given me a tall willowy body, but no, got the hips of girl who loves her pasta. Maybe just a bit taller would work and with straight hair? Yep, just like the witch said: ‘Snow White lives!’” Seeing that she was being ignored, again, she resolutely laid out her gym clothes and shoes for an early workout; well, maybe not too early. Silently thanking her last client for the funds that allowed her to indulge herself in a whole house music system, she tuned it to the film soundtrack of Cinema Paradiso before she stripped completely and stepped into the steaming shower. “O.K., God, I forgive you for the hair and bod because good water pressure and great Italian music is enough of a blessing right now. MMMMM.”

  Warm, and a little less stiff, she swallowed a baby aspirin, crawled gratefully into bed and was asleep within seconds. Outside, in a dark sedan across the street, two men in cheap suits sat sipping scorched coffee out of cardboard cups. When the lights went out in Scarlett’s bedroom, one of them shrugged and spoke.

  “O.K., I’ll catch some sleep while you watch Missy’s house for any action.” He pushed his seat back and settled himself.

  “Why you first? What’s the deal?” The other man was clearly put out.

  Without opening his eyes, the first man answered sleepily, “Because, I’ve got a whole six months seniority on you, and I’m a very big and muscular peace officer.”

  His partner acquiesced, nodding. “Yep, that works. Sweet dreams.”

  Just down the block, a black van with deeply tinted windows was parked in front of a bank-owned house. No one had found this suspicious, since it had only been parked there since nightfall. Inside the van two men in very expensive suits sat in comfortable bucket seats, watching small LCD screens attached to the wall of the van.

  They’d set up on orders from someone their boss trusted, charged to watch Scarlett’s house until further notice. They’d seen Scarlett come out of the house, and drive the rental car out of the driveway and down the street earlier. But since the driveway was long, with the garage at the far end, they didn’t see Lizette, her head covered with a black hoodie, come out of the side kitchen door. She’d quickly slipped into the back seat and laid down.

  Now, one man turned to the other in the van and spoke as he pulled one of his earphones off.

  “Do you want to take a sleep break now, or later?”

  “Boss said we shouldn’t sleep until the next guys get here.”

  “Yeah, well that won’t be for another six or eight hours, so maybe one of us should.”

  “You can if you want, but I’m gonna keep watching her house.”

  “She’s asleep by now. What is there to watch?” The first man shrugged and reached for his pack of cigarettes on the shelf next to the small coffee machine.

  “Look, you haven’t been working for the boss as long as I have, so if it’s all the same to you, I’m gonna stay up and watch the monitors and maybe even take a quick walk around the Strega’s house just to make sure she doesn’t slip out the back or through the walls or something.”

  The younger man laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. The boss was pretty pissed when she pulled the vanishing act before. Only one woman drove out and only one came back. Who knows? You think Lizette’s in there with the lady dick?”

  “If she is, we’ll find out sooner or later. And when we do, she’ll be sorry she ever snagged his rotten, stupid brother and so will that damned woman detective she hired. The boss’ll see to that for sure. He’s got plenty of ‘interesting’ places for them to go. And he’ll make sure he makes a profit outta their disappearing act; he alway
s does. So you might as well make some coffee, ’cause we’re gonna be here a while.”

  Galina Koshka hated dark rooms. She also hated the cold. The room she was in now was both of these things: dark and cold—just two of the many reasons she left Russia. She wrapped her thin black sweater closer around her body and wished for the hundredth time that she had a cigarette. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to somehow magically taste the last smoke she had. It seemed very long ago, she thought. Or was it? Had she really been in this room so long she’d lost track of time itself? Shivering as she got up from the hard wooden chair that never seemed to warm no matter how long she sat on it, Galina walked over to the dormer window and looked out into the darkness. If she stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to the left, she could just make out the glow of the lights from the deck of her prison three floors below. Her breath quickly fogged the window and all became dark again. “Can you see anating?”

  Galina turned toward the voice coming from one of the small cots in the corner. “Not really, Malaya,” she sighed. She could see Malaya’s small frame shift on the uncomfortable bed. “It iz like Russia: like a forever darkness.”

  Malaya swung her legs over the edge of the cot, her bare little feet dangling above the wooden floor. “Nothing is forever, Galina, only the love of God is forever. There will be sunshine for us both when we are free again. Remember my name, my friend.”

  Galina snorted a laugh and had to smile in spite of her own gloom. “Yes, Malaya, I remember vhat your name mean: free and independent. Let us both hope your parents’ choice to name you that is happy omen, huh?”

  Malaya slipped off the cot and walked over to Galina. She looked up into the light blue eyes that she could see even in the dim light. She put her hands on Galina’s tightly folded arms and pulled until she could hold the taller woman’s hands in her own. “You must have faith, dear friend. God will never abandon us. We will be free, I know it.”