by John Lutz
“I’m surprised someone in your business would be so trusting,” Nudger said.
Barney shot him an angry look. “I ain’t so old that a woman can’t still make a fool of me. She came in here all smiles and sweetness, and she’s a pretty little thing to start with. She’s got a smooth line of bull that’d fool men smarter’n I am. I admit it, I screwed up royally. Not the first time, but it ain’t happened in a long while. Last week I sold the other eleven watches to a collector for five dollars each. I was lucky to get that, considering they were nothing but shells of imitations.”
“How long ago did you buy the watches?” Nudger asked, thinking that the sun had sapped his energy. He felt like one of Vella’s eleven watches, a shell of an imitation.
“About two months, I’d guess.”
“Do you have a dated bill of sale you could check to pin down the date?” Nudger asked.
“Nope, no bill of sale.” There was something of a challenge in Barney’s voice. A sly old man, ready to argue.
Nudger figured Vella had implied that the watches were stolen, and the bedazzled Barney had gone for the bait. Now he was mad at himself.
“Cash transaction, I suppose,” Nudger said.
Barney nodded. “No receipt. She had the money, I had the watches, so I didn’t figure there was any need for paperwork.”
“When you found out the watches were empty fakes, did you tell the police?”
“Humph! No use telling the cops. The woman was long-gone by the time I realized she’d conned me.”
“And there was no point in the police knowing it was a cash transaction, right?”
“Right as rain. There’s lots of cash transactions in the antique business, son. Oh, we pay our taxes, but when the amount is based on cash changing hands, memory has to serve. Sometimes the IRS remembers it different, even though they weren’t there at the time.”
“Have you seen Vella since the sale?”
“Sure haven’t.” Barney’s face got hard and his big gnarled hands knotted into fists. Veins thick as hoses stood out as if sculpted on his wrists. “And I been watching for her at all the auctions and estate sales, places like that.”
Nudger laid one of his cards on the counter, directly above where the Bulova watch was displayed. “Will you give me a call if you do see Vella Kling again?”
“You can count on it,” Barney said, examining the card at arms length, even wearing his fishbowl glasses. “You’re a private cop, huh?”
“Yes,” Nudger said, “a shamus.”
“You seen too many movies and TV shows, son. Are the real cops looking for her too?”
“No,” Nudger said, “so far it’s only us unreal ones. But that could change in a hurry.”
“I’m hoping it does,” Barney said. “I shoulda looked closer at them watches.”
“Or closer at Vella Kling.”
“Oh, no,” Barney said, “I was looking plenty close at her. That turned out to be the problem.” He made a terrible face and a sound something like Grrrrrr and Nudger thought for a moment that he was actually going to break into a barrage of curses. Instead he simply growled, “Women! Can’t live with ’em!”
Nudger thought he was going to exclaim how he couldn’t live without ’em, either, but Barney let it go at that. At his age, maybe only half the maxim applied.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sure I can’t get you anything, Nudge? Coffee?”
Nudger shook his head, “Danny, you’re supposed to be resting. ”
“Coffee’s no trouble.”
“Danny, stay put,” said Nudger firmly. “I came by to find out if there was anything I could do for you.”
“I’m fine.” They were sitting in Danny’s apartment, where he had spent the day, and he did not look fine. Part of it was the bandages, on his forehead and across the bridge of his nose. His eyes, in the crisscross of white tape, looked sadder than ever. As he eased back into his recliner chair, he winced. Nudger winced sympathetically; he knew what that blow on the chest felt like.
He’d run out of antique shops by late afternoon. He hadn’t found out any more about Vella Kling. He didn’t want to go to the courthouse and face Lawrence Fleck—who must be truly desperate by now—empty-handed. So he’d decided to check in on Danny instead.
“Well, there is one thing you could do for me, maybe.” Danny hesitated. His hand went to the sash of his robe, as if he was looking for the gray towel he tucked there when he was in the shop. “But I hate to ask, Nudge. You look like you had a tough day.”
“I feel useless, that’s all. It’s this case. Seems all I’ve accomplished is to get you beaten up.”
Danny waved this off. “None of that, Nudge.”
“Anything I can do, just name it.”
“Well, okay. There is something that’s bothering me. Won’t let me rest.”
“Where does it hurt?” Nudger asked. “I can call the doctor. He can call a prescription in to the pharmacy and I’ll pick it up.”
“Naw, it’s nothing like that. It’s Ray. I’m real worried about him. Could you go over and check on him for me?”
Nudger’s stomach kicked rebelliously. Walked into that one, he thought; trapped in a box canyon of responsibility. “What’s wrong with Ray now?”
Danny looked at him reproachfully. “I know what you think of Ray, Nudge, but he ain’t faking. Not this time anyway. He’s in real bad shape.”
“That what he tells you?”
“Not him personally. I haven’t heard a peep from him. He’s not gonna trouble me when he knows I’m laid up myself.”
“Well, he’s always been considerate.”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Nudge. He’s been to the doctor. Guy with an international reputation in musculoskeletal medicine, and he says Danny’s back trouble is real bad. Ordered him to go right home, lie flat on his back in bed and not move a muscle, or the doc couldn’t answer for the consequences.”
Now Nudger remembered. He couldn’t help grinning as he wondered how long it had taken Danny to memorize ‘musculo-skel . . .’ well, whatever.
Danny looked shocked. “It’s nothing to smile about, Nudge. I know what you think about Ray’s bad back, and to tell you the truth, there’s times I thought he was maybe exaggerating a bit myself.” Danny frowned and shook his head with remorse. “Right now I feel pretty bad about doubting him. Ray’s in bad shape. We got the doctor’s word on that.”
“Danny—”
“Couldn’t you please drop in on him? See if he needs anything? The poor guy, he must be miserable. Stuck in his apartment. Nothing he can do but lie in bed.”
Ray must be in heaven, Nudger thought. “Danny, you didn’t talk to this doctor yourself, did you?”
“No. That woman Hydrant, at Shag’s, she called me. This doctor called her, to explain why Ray wasn’t coming into work. She was plenty worried. And I’ve seen her when I ate at Shag’s. She doesn’t look like the type of woman to worry about nothing, would you say?”
Nudger shook his head. He could easily imagine Heidran on the bridge of her U boat, gazing pitilessly at survivors struggling in an icy sea. He said, “Dr. Fell must have done a good job to convince her. ”
“You know this doctor, Nudge?”
“Danny, he’s not an internationally known musculo ... Not a famous specialist. He’s Dr. Fell, from the cash-in-advance clinic on Manchester Road. I told Ray to go to him, to get an excuse so he wouldn’t have to go to work.”
Danny stared at Nudger for a few seconds. “You mean, this doctor was sort of exaggerating Ray’s problem when he talked to the German woman.”
“More like inventing it.”
Danny sighed. The gentle melancholy eyes inside the X of white tape regarded Nudger a moment in silence. “Oh. Well, I guess that oughta put my mind at rest. You—uh—you’re absolutely sure Ray’s okay?”
“Absolutely.”
Danny’s sad eyes were apologetic. “Nudge, I’m sorry about the way I ran on about Ray’s b
ack and all. I guess you figure you’ve done enough for him lately. Guess you don’t want to go check on him.”
“Danny, he’s fine. He’s been having a perfectly enjoyable day today, especially if there’s a Cubs game on television.”
“Sure, Nudge. Well, thanks for coming by.” Danny swung his legs off the recliner. Wincing, he started to rise to his feet.
“You’re not going over to Ray’s yourself?”
“You know how I worry about the guy. No need for you to trouble yourself.”
Box canyon, Nudger thought again. “Danny, you don’t have to go right now, do you?”
“Better now than later, after it gets dark. I got some problems with my vision.”
Nudger sighed. “Sit down, Danny. I’m on my way.”
He expected the usual long wait for Ray to answer his door. But it opened to his first knock. Nudger found himself face-to-face with Heidran Kreb.
He almost didn’t recognize her. She was out of uniform, for one thing. Her hair was covered by a bright kerchief, and she was wearing jeans and a blue work shirt. Even more unfamiliar and disconcerting was the smile of greeting she gave him. It was the first time he’d seen Heidran’s teeth. They were large, white, and even. She’d probably flossed every day of her life.
“Oh, Ray,” she called out. The dulcet voice was another novelty. “Your friend is here to see you.”
“Who is it?” Ray called out from the bedroom.
“It’s Mr. Nudger.”
There was a pause, then Ray said, “Just the—Just who I want to see.”
“Come in, Mr. Nudger,” Heidran said. “Wipe your feet first.”
Nudger looked down: There was a brand-new welcome mat, which actually said WELCOME. It had a motif of cardinals and blue-jays. As he wiped his feet he asked Heidran what she was doing here.
“The moment I finished talking to Dr. Fell on the telephone I knew I had to come over,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to think of Ray alone here, helpless.”
“Ah. Of course. Still, it’s a wonder Shag’s can get along without you.”
“This is the first day I’ve missed in three and a half years,” Heidran said. For a moment she looked misty-eyed over the loss of her perfect attendance record, but she snapped out of it.
Nudger stepped inside. He looked around, blinking. Ray’s formerly sordid apartment now gleamed with cleanliness. The linoleum floor had the lustre of marble. The cobwebs were gone from the corners of the ceiling. There wasn’t an old newspaper or empty beer can in sight. The horrible smell was gone, replaced by the tang of lemon and ammonia. The TV screen was blank. Nudger found he was placing his feet hesitantly, almost reverently, as he followed Heidran to the bedroom.
In this shining sea of cleanliness, Ray’s bed was an island of squalor. There were still the same dingy sheets, with crumbs and even a few cellophane wrappers caught in their folds, and the same grimy coverlet.
Ray lay flat on his back in the middle of the bed, in striped pajamas. The shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the pallid, hairy skin of his midsection, crisscrossed with surgical tape. His eyes rolled toward Nudger. He did not smile.”
“And here’s your friend!” Heidran burbled. “Isn’t this nice?”
Nice? Nudger gave her a sideways glance. Heidran certainly was different when she was with Ray in a domestic environment.
She was pulling up a chair for him, a little closer to Ray than Nudger would have preferred to be, but he sat down anyway.
“It’s time to put the wash in the dryer,” Heidran said. “Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”
“Yeah,” Ray said. “I wonder if you could wheel the TV in here?”
“We’ve been over that, Raymond. You’d have to raise your head to watch the television, and Dr. Fell says you mustn’t put even the slightest strain on your vertebrae. Besides, the excitement might be bad for you, if the Cubs are winning.”
“I mean for Nudge. So he could watch.”
“Mr. Nudger didn’t come over here to watch television. Now you boys enjoy your talk.”
Boys?
Ray waited until the screen door banged behind her, then said, “This is all your fault, Nudger.”
“I’ve done my best for you, Ray. Dr. Fell—”
“That idiot! I thought when I saw him that he understood. But he didn’t. He was supposed to tell her I could never work again, not say there was anything seriously wrong with me.”
“Ah!” Nudger said, wondering if there might really be a few exotic diseases that fit Ray’s needs.
“Know what she’s doing down in the basement right now? There’s five washing machines, and she’s using all of them. She’s washing everything I own. Even underwear I’ve worn only two or three times. I’ve got nothing left but this bed. Sooner or later I’ll have to go to the bathroom, and then she’ll change the sheets.”
He nodded toward the night table, on which new white sheets, fresh from the store and still in their plastic wrap, waited.
“I think your place looks pretty good, Ray.”
“You kidding? She’s been pouring chemicals on everything. My home is a toxic waste dump. The fumes are shrivelling up the insides of my nostrils. My nose hairs are gonna fall out, and I’ll have to move to Arizona. And just look around—everything’s so shiny, the glare hurts your eyes. It’s enough to give a person”—Ray paused for thought—“optic-nerve burnout.”
“I’m truly sorry, Ray,” Nudger said. “But I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do. I’m fresh out of ideas.”
“Well, that’s okay, cause I don’t need you anymore,” said Ray bitterly. “And I got an idea of my own. There’s only one way to get rid of this woman. I’m gonna pretend I died.”
“Of falling nose hairs, or optic-nerve burnout?”
“I’ll leave that to Dr. Fell.”
“Dr. Fell?”
“He convinced her I was sick, he can convince her I died. The guy owes me one.”
Nudger felt relief and guilt at the same moment. Poor Dr. Fell. Probably the one way anyone ever got rid of Ray was to scrape him off on somebody else. Maybe Dr. Fell could send him to some sort of specialist.
“Well, I know you need your rest,” Nudger said, getting to his feet. “Danny was worried about you, but I’ll tell him you’re okay.”
“Tell him I’m dying,” Ray said. “It ain’t too soon to start the rumors.”
Nudger didn’t see Heidran as he left the building. Still down in the basement, no doubt, tending her five washers.
As he got into the Granada, he checked his watch: five on the dot. Quitting time. He could put off calling Fleck until tomorrow.
Coaxing the engine into life, he headed for Claudia’s, to hear her report on her day in court.
“Thanks for asking me to attend that trial, Nudger. It was the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen. Much more dramatic than any movie or TV show.”
Nudger didn’t know what to say. When Claudia was this effusive, she usually meant to be ironic. But as she walked about her kitchen gathering ingredients for dinner, her movements were quick and her dark eyes glittered with excitement. Something really big must have happened in court today.
“Let me guess,” he said, “Roger finally broke down and begged for mercy.”
“No, no. It’s Fleck I’m talking about.”
“Did Judge MacMasters order him bound and gagged?”
“No, Nudger. You gave me entirely the wrong impression of Lawrence Fleck.”
“I told you about the loud suits and the bad toupee.”
“Yes, but you didn’t mention that the man is a courtroom genius. ”
Nudger was stunned. “You sure you were in the right courtroom? State of Missouri v. Dupont?”
“Yes, and if I were betting, I’d put my money on Roger Dupont. Fleck turned the trial around today.”
“Uh-huh. How did he do it?” Nudger was still skeptical; by her own admission, Claudia had never seen a real murder trial before.
Placing a clove of garlic on the cutting board, she turned to address him. “For starters, Fleck made Alicia Van Moke look like a fool.”
Nudger couldn’t imagine anyone doing that, much less Fleck. “You’re kidding. You must be kidding.”
“No. Remember, Van Moke said she heard Karen screaming, ‘No! Stop! Stop! No.’ ”
“Yes. Pretty damaging testimony, I thought. Pretty chilling.”
“It was chilling, but it wasn’t Karen. It was Fay Aldrich.”
“Who?”
“Fay Aldrich, the movie star from the thirties who starred in Revenge of the Gorilla. First Fleck put the detective who’d searched the house on the stand to say that the Duponts had a copy of Revenge of the Gorilla in their video library. Then he set up a VCR and played a scene from the movie. And there was Fay Aldrich screaming ‘No! Stop! Stop! No!’ at the giant Gorilla who was about to drop her from the top of a tall building.”
Claudia grinned over her shoulder at him as she turned off the water and moved the kettle to the stove. But Nudger was thoughtful. Fleck hadn’t mentioned that he had this courtroom coup up his sleeve when they’d talked the day before. The obnoxious little defense lawyer had seemed on the verge of panic. When had he come up with this? How? The man must really know his movies.
Whack! Claudia smacked a garlic clove with the flat of her knife, peeled off the husk, and tossed it into the olive oil. Then she gave Nudger another smirk. She was rooting for Fleck, pleased he’d confounded Nudger’s expectations.
“Well, that was great courtroom magic,” Nudger conceded. “Jury must have eaten it up. But it doesn’t exactly turn the case around. What about the evidence that Dupont disposed of Karen’s body.”