"I love my head?" asked Ben.
Tom snapped his fingers twice. "No! No! I love..." He paused, frowning. "My mind? My brain?"
I laughed in spite of myself. As I did that, Carter yelled out, "Time!"
I said, "Damn it!"
"What was it?" asked Ben.
I handed him the slip of paper. He groaned, stood up, and began to act out someone stuffing their mouth repeatedly with something. He puffed out his cheeks and then pretended he was stuffing something inside his shirt.
In less than ten seconds, Tom said, "I Love Lucy!" He stood up, completely flustered, and walked up to me while pointing at Ben. "Nick! Why didn't you do that?"
I put my hand on his chest and shoved him back. "You know I hate TV. Everyone knows that. Besides... The? And?" I laughed. "I was pointing right at my chest. It was 'I' for Christ's sake."
Tom yelled at me. "Then you point to your eye, dammit! Eye for I! Everyone knows that!"
The other three were, by that point, laughing so hard and falling over each other on the couch that Micky suddenly slipped off the sofa cushions and slammed his ass resoundingly on the floor. As he did, he yelped, as he tended to do when he was laughing. The other two cracked up even harder.
Carter, after wiping his eyes with his thumb, stood and offered Micky a hand. "Here you go. Upsy-daisy." When he tried to pull the guy up, his shoes slipped on the carpet. In order to keep from falling forward onto Micky, Carter fell back, pulling Micky up as he did but also falling against Tom who hit the coffee table Ben had pulled over to the side so we could move around the living room.
Micky lost his balance as he came up and pushed Carter down. All three of them fell on the floor like a pile of gigantic puppies. The weight of their impact caused one of the lamps to fall over, the bulb breaking with a tinny pop, and made the dishes rattle in the kitchen, sending a glass to the floor with a crash.
Ben put his right hand against his mouth and yelled out, "Earthquake!" Tom, who tended to bark when he laughed, started laughing so hard that he sounded like a demented chihuahua.
Ben and I lost it, both falling into each other's arms and holding on for dear life. I was having trouble breathing but couldn't stop.
Right then, a fist pounded on the door, followed by a grouchy male voice. "Will you all shut the hell up in there!"
That made all of us laugh even harder. While Micky yelped and Tom barked and the man outside banged again and again on the door, I leaned against Ben and said, "It's a good thing you're moving. Otherwise, you'd be evicted!"
Epilogue
1198 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, Cal.
Thursday, November 24, 1955
Half past 3 in the afternoon
"That cook of yours knows how to roast a turkey, Nick. I don't think I've had one as good as that." That was Kenneth Richardson, Carter's stepbrother and mine as well, in a very odd sort of way. His father, Ed, had once been in a relationship with my mother. She had, more or less, adopted Kenneth and his brother, Bobby, even though she had never married their father. We'd met Ed, and his two sons and their wives, in Vermont the previous March. That was after tracking down the truth of how my mother had died in '48, and not '29 as everyone, including my father, had long believed.
Ed had started visiting San Francisco more and more and had fallen in love with Louise, Carter's mother. They'd married in October and had returned a week or so earlier after a long honeymoon, first to Tennessee and then to Cuba.
We'd just finished up our Thanksgiving Day dinner. He was right. Mrs. Strakova's turkey had been tasty. I looked around the room. Everyone present was related to either Carter or myself, in one way or another.
My father, of course, was there. He was standing by the back door, smoking his pipe, and looking out at our newly redesigned garden. Lettie was next to him. They were talking softly to each other and my father was smiling. It was sweet to watch.
Ed and Louise were sitting on one of the new sofas we'd recently bought. Louise was leaning against Ed's shoulder, her eyes closed, as he watched Carter stoking the fire next to me. It was a chilly and foggy day outside and the warmth of the fireplace felt good against my legs.
Carter's Aunt Velma was seated at the other end of the same sofa. She was watching Carter, as well. Her eyes seemed to be about ready to close when John, her nephew and Carter's cousin, walked up and asked, "Velma, can I get you something to drink?"
She smiled and said, "Coffee would really hit the spot. Where's Roger?" That was John's lover. They both knew each other from Georgia, where all of Carter's family had lived until the summer of '54 when they'd moved out to the City all at once.
John, who was about as tall as Carter, knelt next to Aunt Velma and said, "He's downstairs looking for a bottle of cognac that Parnell asked him to find." With a grin, he added, "I hope he doesn't get lost."
Right then, Michelle, Kenneth's wife, came downstairs along with Peggy, her soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law. Peggy had moved to San Francisco after Ed and Louise had married in October. Her husband, Bobby, was back in Boston, where Kenneth and Michelle lived. Peggy and Bobby were separated and in the process of getting a divorce. She was staying with Aunt Velma in the apartment building across the park from us. That was where my father and Lettie lived, as well. As Michelle walked up, Kenneth asked, "How is Jimmy?" That was their young son.
She smiled. "He's playing with Nick's wooden soldiers. I told him no TV but that he can read a book or play with whatever he finds in that closet in Nick's old bedroom."
Kenneth turned to me. "That OK?"
I nodded. "Of course. He's welcome to it."
Michelle said, "For some reason, I want a beer."
I said, "There's some Burgie in the fridge. Do you want me to get you a bottle?"
She shook her head and took Kenneth by the arm. "No, I'm gonna go see if I can find out what the Czechoslovakian word for beer is. We'll be back in a minute."
I nodded and smiled at them as Peggy walked up. I looked at her. "How's life in the City treating you? Any prospects?"
She grinned. "I've been on three dates in two weeks and they've all been very nice gentlemen but..." She shrugged. "Haven't quite found the one, yet."
Right then, Marnie and Alex, her husband walked up. To Peggy, she said, "You know, if you want a job at Consolidated, all you have to do is ask."
"Thank you, Marnie. You're sweet. But I was just hired. I'm starting on Monday working for your mama at her foundation. They're opening the new office and I volunteered to help them set things up." She grinned. "But they hired me, instead. How about you and me have lunch next week so I can pick your brain about how to get things organized?"
Marnie smiled and put her hand on Peggy's arm. "I'd like that." She looked at me. "Are you OK, Nick?"
I nodded and sniffed. "Oh, sure, doll. I'm fine." I pulled out my handkerchief and dabbed my eyes. I laughed. "Sorry about that. Must be something in the air."
. . .
Once everyone was seated in the living room, Lettie stood and walked up to the hearth. Turning to face the room, she said, "I'm afraid the time has come to make a very unfortunate announcement. But, before I do, I must insist that what I'm about to say here not be shared with anyone. This is so vitally important. Once I tell you, I'm sure you will all understand why I ask that you make that promise." She looked around the room. Carter and I were sitting on the sofa that faced the garden. He was holding my hand. He squeezed it and I nodded.
Lettie continued, "Now, I know this may come as a surprise, but Louise, Ed, Parnell, and I have been talking with the boys since they returned from Big Sur. They have also been meeting with their lawyers. And, more importantly, with the French consul general."
Michelle looked over at me, her mouth in the shape of an "O."
"You may think I'm being overly dramatic, and perhaps I am, but something very troubling has come to light. Nick asked me to talk about this, even though it is properly his story to tell. I hope I do it justice." S
he looked at me. I nodded, even though it did seem like the whole thing was ridiculous and overblown. But then I could hear what Carter had said to Martinelli earlier about not wanting to go to prison. I sighed and squeezed his hand. He leaned against me.
"I am very happy that we will all be going to Vermont in December for Christmas. It has been such a blessing that this family has come together in the way it has." Looking at Ed, she said, "You and your children are now just as precious and important to us as if we were all related by blood. And, I know we are all looking forward to a real white Christmas this year." She smiled. "What a novelty."
Everyone in the room laughed quietly.
She took a deep breath. "However, after Christmas, Nick and Carter will be flying out of Boston and heading to Paris where they will be staying for an unknown length of time."
Marnie gasped and looked at me. I nodded as more tears tried to make their way up and out. As I watched, she lifted her hand to her mouth as Alex put his arm around her.
John, sitting at the far end of the room, looked over at Carter. "Why, son?"
Lettie said, "John, if you will, let me try to explain." She talked for a few minutes about some of the things we'd discovered in the last few weeks about how what Pfeiffer had told us in the woods that day was right. J. Edgar Hoover, the Director of the F.B.I., was in the middle of building a case against me that he was planning on handing to the California Attorney General. There was nothing at the federal level he could do, but he was preparing a dossier to hand over in Sacramento at the beginning of the year. We'd had a very tense meeting with the U.S. Attorney, who'd more or less confirmed what we'd been able to find out through a variety of channels. The noose was tightening and we hoped we could get out in time.
"So," said Lettie, "while we do not want our sons to leave us, we have given them our blessing to go. We don't want them to be put on trial and sent to prison for simply being in love." She pulled out her lace handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.
"I was able to meet with the consul general and arrange for visas for Nick and Carter for a long-term residence in Paris. They won't be there alone. Captain O'Reilly and his first mate, Mr. Murphy will be going with them. As will Gustav and Ferdinand." Turning to me, she asked, "And who are the other two?"
I said, "Jacob Robinson. He's one of our lawyers who used to live in Paris. And Antoine Descombes, he's French and he goes wherever Jake goes."
Lettie smiled. "We will all, of course, be able to go and visit as we are able. Mr. Evans at Nick's office has already begun the process of purchasing a home for Nick and Carter. It's in the middle of the city, was built in 1869, and has seven bedrooms."
At that point, Carter stood and walked over to Lettie. He said, "I know this is upsetting. And Nick and I both want to apologize to everyone for not letting you know sooner. This whole thing with Hoover and the F.B.I. was something we found out about in Big Sur. We wanted to make sure we knew what we were doing before we said anything. Of course, a few people already know because we had to tell them. Some of our friends down in L.A. we told because we needed to take care of things like Monumental and the house down there." He sighed and looked around the room. "I wish we didn't have to do this. Neither of us want to. We've made the decision and changed our minds, over and over in the last few days. I, uh, well..." He put his hand over his face for a long moment. I stood and walked over to him as Lettie sat down next to my father.
I said, "We don't want to do this, but we can't figure out any other way." I just stood there, trying to figure out what else there was to say and realized there was nothing.
Finally, Marnie stood and walked up to me. She was openly crying. She put her arms around me. I pulled her into an embrace and held her for a long moment, neither of us saying anything. One by one, everyone else did the same, until, finally, my father stood in front of me. I looked at his face. His jaw was clenched and his brow was furrowed. I knew he wasn't angry. He was worried.
He swallowed and then put his hand on my face. "I'm so proud of you, son." He stood there, staring at me, for a very long time. Finally, he turned and walked over to the garden door and looked outside.
As he stood there, Ed walked up to him and softly spoke. My father nodded slowly, appearing to relax, while the last of the dim light of the foggy day gently faded into evening.
Author's Note
Thank you for buying and reading this book!
This story, like all the others involving Nick & Carter, came to me out of thin air.
Many thanks, as always, to everyone who has read, reviewed, and emailed me about the Nick & Carter books. It is deeply gratifying in ways that words will never be able to fully express. Thank you.
. . .
Books about Nick, Carter, Marnie, Mike, and the gang are usually available around the 30th of each month. If you would like to be notified when the next volume will be available, you can subscribe to the Nick & Carter newsletter here:
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Acknowledgments
Once again, many thanks to the California Digital Newspaper Collection, hosted by the University of California at Riverside, I was able to browse copies of the San Bernardino Sun. Among other things, this allowed me to determine whether Hearst Castle was open to the public in November of 1955. It was not, otherwise there would have been a good chapter or two about Nick and Carter wandering the grounds.
I was able to map Carter's drive through 1955 San Francisco, from Nob Hill to Skyline Drive thanks to an online copy of a 1954 Chevron gas station map that has been archived and made available by the Dave Rumsey Map Collection. I have been relying on this map since first writing The Unexpected Heiress and have been remiss in not mentioning it thus far.
I referred to Henry Miller's memoir Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch for details about the author's life during the time he lived in Big Sur. I also reviewed interviews of him filmed by Warren Beatty that were sprinkled throughout the movie Reds. They were particularly helpful in capturing the cadence of his speech, doncha know.
I discovered La Fonda Mexican restaurant thanks to a scanned copy of a 1950 Monterey map, complete with advertisements, available online at Historic Map Works.
As always, I have to thank the wonderful Beta readers who helped me bring this book to fruition. Without your particular insights, there are many things I would have missed in this book. I am deeply grateful for your insights comments, and corrections. You gals and guys rock!
Historical Notes
The events in this book take place between Veteran's Day, Friday, November 11, 1955, and Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 1955.
All of the characters in this novel are fictional with the exception of the following:
Henry Miller was born in Manhattan in 1891 and died in Pacific Palisades, California, in 1980. He is most famous for his first book, Tropic of Cancer, a semi-autobiographical novel which was published in Paris in 1934 and banned in the U.S. until 1961. Miller lived in Paris in the 1930s and returned to the U.S. in 1940, eventually settling in California, first in Big Sur and later in Pacific Palisades. He was also a prolific painter of watercolors. I first discovered who he was because of the copy of Tropic of Capricorn in my parent's house that sat in the den bookshelf, likely unread, all through my childhood. I was mesmerized when he appeared as one of the uncredited "witnesses" in Warren Beatty's movie, Reds. My favorite of his lines in that amazing film is this, referring to the late 1910s: "People fucked back then just as much as they do now. We just didn't talk about it as much." Those two sentences have been a guiding light for this series of books as much as anything else.
Albert "Tito" Barreto was born in San Francisco in 1917 and died in Monterey in 2006. His restaurant, La Fonda, at the corner of Abrego and Fremont Streets in Monterey, was considered by many celebrities to be part of the unofficial "tour" of local establishments during the annual Bing Crosby Clambake and Celebrity Golf Tournament, now known as the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am Tournamen
t.
Samuel Finley Brown (S.F.B.) Morse was born in Newton, Massachusetts in 1885 and died in Pebble Beach, California, in 1969. Known locally as "The Duke of Del Monte", Morse is generally considered responsible for the development of the Monterey peninsula as an international golfing destination. He founded Pebble Beach, among other golf courses in the area. He was one of the first environmentalists to work on the preservation of the California coast. He married his third wife, Maurine Church Dalton in 1952.
John "Jack" McCoy served as Sheriff of Monterey County from 1946 to 1957. As far as I could discover, there never was a Monterey County Sheriff's office in Carmel. The closest one would have been in Monterey. However, for purposes of this story, I decided to place one in Carmel, at the corner of Rio Road and Highway 1.
The Civilian Conservation Corps (C.C.C.) was a New Deal work program that employed men exclusively and, among other projects, put them to work in state and national parks, building out new features and improving existing ones. It is generally considered the most popular of the New Deal programs because of its visible benefit to the nation's natural resources. The C.C.C. program began in 1933 and was ended by Congress in 1942.
Pfeiffer State Park, now known as Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, was developed by the C.C.C. camp located there after the State of California bought 700 acres from John Pfeiffer in 1933. Pfeiffer grew up in a cabin on the land and his parents were among the first European immigrants to the area, arriving from France in the 1880s. The park centers around the Big Sur River and is nicknamed "Mini Yosemite."
Rocky Point Restaurant, located at 36700 Highway 1, ten miles south of Carmel, first opened in 1947. For the purposes of this story, I placed it fourteen miles south.
More Information
The Rotten Rancher (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 16) Page 21