Mrs. Latham paused and looked at Percy expectantly. Percy picked up her cue.
“But it didn’t.”
“No, it was locked.”
“Anything else?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then go on.”
Mrs. Latham assumed her campfire posture again.
“When it didn’t open, she began jiggling the knob, trying to force it, you know? Poopsie started to growl and then he barked like crazy. Lord, how he barked. I think it frightened her. I opened my door to see if I could be of some help, but by the time I got the door all the way open, she was running down the stairs. I heard the downstairs door slam shut about a moment later.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes.” Somewhat deflated, Lola Mae stopped speaking and shrugged. “Now that I say it out loud, I guess it wasn’t that important.”
“You never know. It could be.” Percy patted the woman encouragingly on the shoulder. “Did you tell Howie about his visitor?”
“I left him a note. It said ‘A young lady came by today about ten-thirty to see you’.” Lola Mae turned and looked at Percy. “Should I have told him she tried to get into the apartment?”
“A little late for that, but the police should know.”
“Oh, I’ll surely tell them. Funny about that, though. I mean, she didn’t look like a thief or anything. She had a gentile, ladylike appearance about her. That’s why I opened the door to see if I could help her.”
“Would you recognize the woman if you saw her again?”
“Oh, yes. You don’t see many people with that blue-black hair. Except, like I say, your son. Does his father have blue-black hair?”
Percy didn’t answer but stood. “Well, thank you, Lola Mae, for your time. You be sure to tell the police everything you told me.” Percy headed for the front door.
“Oh, I will, I will.” Lola Mae followed, preening with earnestness. “We’re so glad to be of help, aren’t we, Poopsie?” She glanced down at the dog at her heels that sneezed again.
“What kind of a dog is that?” Percy tried to keep up her end of the conversation as she made her way to the front door.
“A Pomeranian. They look just like little foxes, don’t they?”
“They do.”
Lola Mae began to prattle again. “Howie’s such a wonderful neighbor. Every week he gives me chocolate croissants that melt in your mouth. He even taught me how to make them, but mine never come out as well as his. As my mama would say, he has the gift; he surely does.”
Percy turned around as she got to the front door and extended her hand for a handshake.
“Thank you again, Lola Mae, for speaking with me. You be sure to tell the cops exactly what you told me. And thanks for the biscuits and jam.”
The woman took Percy’s hand in hers and instead of shaking it, gave it a light squeeze.
“Now don’t you be a stranger, Percy Cole. You drop by and see Poopsie and me anytime you want. We’re usually here. And bring that darling little boy with you. He’s such a charmer.”
Percy’s smile was genuine. “I will, Lola Mae. And thank you again.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dear Diary,
The waiting is hard, but I have endured much harder things. Soon stupid people will ‘discover’ what I want them to know. It’s all going exactly as planned.
Chapter Fourteen
Percy stopped at Henry’s Drugs, a small neighborhood pharmacy and luncheonette well kept up. The building had been recently painted black and white giving it a crisp look. The upper half was mostly plate glass windows, filled with advertising posters, emblems, and a myriad of products from Carter’s Little Liver Pills to corsets for the discerning woman.
Dominating signs read ‘Rx’ ‘Luncheonette’ and ‘Prescriptions’ but the largest, a symbol of a mortar and pestle, hung over the door. That meant a pharmacist was on duty at all times.
Many drugstores offered meals as well as the complete soda fountain. But what pulled Percy in, besides the sign in one of the windows advertising meatloaf sandwiches for fifteen cents - price including a soda - was another symbol, a black telephone receiver, indicating a public payphone.
Percy licked her lips in anticipation of an early lunch after her phone calls. The thought of a meatloaf sandwich made her stomach growl. The two biscuits had only served to whet her appetite.
After all, I’m a growing girl. And growing wider every day.
She went to the phone booth at the corner of the store, stepped inside, and dug out some nickels from her pocket. Her first call was to Jude, thankfully in his office.
After repeating word for word the conversation she’d had with Lola Mae Latham, her brother hung up with the words, “I’m calling the police station right away with this new development. Good work, Percy. Catch you later.”
With a yearning glance at the sandwich counter, she grappled for the bag of Pistachios in her pocket, fed another nickel into the slot, and dialed home. Mother answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello, Mother. How are things on the home front?” She felt around in the small bag for a nut. Popping one in her mouth, she thought about how unsatisfying they were when you wanted a meatloaf sandwich.
“Persephone dear, I’m so glad you phoned.”
Her mother’s voice sounded relieved, yet anxious.
“Father called here about thirty-minutes ago and I told him about poor Howie’s situation and that you and Adjudication were taking the matter in hand. Then I told him you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Something to do with the office. He left a number for you to call. I have it right here. Did I do right, dear? I shouldn’t have kept him on the phone, should I have? Oh, no. It’s way too expensive. We just paid four dollars and fifty-seven cents last night for a long-distance call. Besides, how would you have gotten through if I was still on the phone with Father? Silly me.”
“You did right, Mother.” Percy smiled on her end. “Before you give me the number, did Oliver get off to school all right?”
“Oh, yes, and I did just as you asked in his lunchbox, a spam sandwich and an apple. I threw in some marshmallow-covered cauliflower as a little surprise for dessert. I’m saving you some. They’re delicious.”
“I’ll bet.” Percy’s tone was serious, despite the roll of her eyes. “So Pop’s waiting for me to call him?”
“Yes, he said the Firehouse across the street will go and get him when you call. Firemen are so nice, aren’t they?”
“They’re the good guys, Mother. No doubt about it.”
She hung up, opened the door of the phone booth, and asked the nearby white-smocked pharmacist – probably Henry - for change for a dollar bill. While the stooped-over, man counted out nickels and dimes with a smile, she thought about how she would phrase what she wanted to say to Pop about the changes in the office.
Percy wasn’t sure how much she should tell him. She’d already sounded out Fred Rendell Sr., father of Oliver’s best friend, Freddie, about doing the legwork for the agency. The conversation took place before Howie’s arrest, when she was already carrying the office’s workload by herself. She didn’t want this to continue, not with an eight-year old boy to think about.
Besides, she liked Fred Rendell. Rendell was an intelligent, quiet man who’d recently lost a hand in the war effort and was home on honorable discharge. Lately, she’d noticed a deepening depression in him. Percy figured it wasn’t just the lack of anything to fill up his days. The family had to be struggling to pay the bills, what with just his wife’s part-time secretarial job.
Grappling with bills was something Percy knew only too well. When Pop was in the hospital having his bad leg operated on, she’d played a lot of eeny, meeny, miny, moe with who got paid and when. Times were tough enough for able-bodied souls. There weren’t many jobs for a man with only a left hand.
But Pop, although amiable and fair, was a proud man. He’d only recently got used to the idea of having a detective for a daughter. He mig
ht balk at her taking the lead on where Cole Brothers’ Detective Agency went. In fact, she’d put money on it.
Nonetheless, Percy took a deep breath, lifted the receiver from the cradle, and recited, "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly."
Chapter Fifteen
She put her third nickel into the slot and dialed ‘zero’. The coin jingled through the box and came out the return slot. She waited while the phone rang. When the operator came on the line, she gave her the number Mother had dictated.
At the prodding of the operator’s voice in her ear, she deposited sixty-five cents for the first three minutes. Ten cents for each following minute, she was told. After chatting briefly with the fireman on duty who said he’d run and get Pop, Percy was left to ponder again on what to say to her father. She was rarely a person left tongue-tied, but her father had a way of doing that to her at times.
These are the ties that bind.
It was a long wait and just as she began to wonder if she’d have to deposit more money, she heard Pop’s out of breath reply.
“Hello, hello?” He sounded like he’d run all the way.
“Hey, Pop. How you doing?”
“Persephone, my dear girl. It’s good to hear your voice. Just give me a moment to catch my breath. I ran nearly a block to get here.”
“I thought Mother said the fire station was across the street, Pop."
“Well, that’s what I told your mother. I didn’t want her to worry. But that’s all right. It keeps a man in condition.” He let out a chuckle and Percy joined in. “What is it you need, daughter of mine?”
“Pop, Mother told you about Howie being arrested for murder and how both Jude and I are working to free him.”
“Yes, indeed. When I return I’ll join in the fight.”
“When will that be?”
“To be honest, at least a few more days. Maybe a week. I’m hoping to be home for Valentine’s Day. You know how much Mother looks forward to me buying her a box of candy, a corsage, and taking her out dancing.”
“It’s been a tradition for as long as I can remember, even if you took her two-stepping in the kitchen.”
“And once her corsage was one of the neighbor’s Geraniums,” Pop said then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Speaking of flowers, it’s looking like some of the young men working at a florist shop nearby might be who we’re after. None of them speak with a German accent, but some people are fluent in more than one language. Your Uncle Gilleathain was one. He spoke French, German, and Spanish like a native. At least, that’s what they tell me. It all sounded like gobbledygook to me.”
Percy let out a laugh. “I miss you, Pop. And I still miss Uncle Gil,” she added softly.
“You and me, darling. You and me. But there’s no stopping Parkinson’s Disease when it gets its way with you. Maybe someday they’ll be a cure.” Pop cleared this throat. “But this is costing money. What’s on your mind?”
As if on cue, the operator’s dulcet tones interrupted them.
“Please deposit another ten cents for one minute, please.”
Percy dropped in five dimes and listened to the musical tinkling of each one fall into place.
“I put in another fifty cents, Pop, so we can talk without getting cut off.” She took a deep breath. “Pop, with you tied up on the government job in New Jersey --”
“It’s good pay, Persephone,” he interrupted. “And it’s our civic duty.”
“I know, Pop, and I agree. But even before this thing with Howie, I’ve been trying to juggle the Kilgallen job and the Sheppard robbery. You know how Mr. Sheppard is pushing to get his paintings back and is convinced that after they were stolen, they’ve been palmed off on one of the uptown galleries. I’ve been walking my feet off on that one, because time is of the essence, but I’ve narrowed it down. And Mrs. Kilgallen is pushing me for proof of her husband’s infidelities, but it’s all very low-keyed. She doesn’t want a divorce, just to know.”
“You still following him around?”
“Like a shadow when I can, but there’s only so many hours in a day.”
“There’s no substitute for legwork. I wish I was there --”
“But you’re not, Pop.” Percy interrupted, keeping her voice pleasant but firm. “And we have to deal with what we got. So I’ve been thinking.”
“Shoot.”
“We need to bring somebody in freelance to do the bulk of the running around for us. Not the noodle part, just the footwork. And I think I’ve found somebody.” Percy went on in a rush. “Fred Rendell, little Freddie’s father. Rendell’s been discharged from the army and looks like he’s going crazy for lack of something to do.”
“That so?” His voice was as noncommittal as hers had been with her mother’s idea of marshmallow-covered cauliflower.
“We wouldn’t even have to pay him until each job was finalized, when we got paid.”
“You don’t say.”
“If you agree, he’ll be on a trial basis for a month or until the Sheppard and Kilgallen jobs are completed. This way, I can devote myself totally to Howie.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it worked out. I’m thinking you’ve already spoken to the man.”
Percy hesitated and decided to be honest. “I have, Pop. Yesterday, even before Howie was arrested. We’re getting bigger. I’ve already been putting in ten-twelve hour days, with you gone. If you agree, The Cole Brothers’ Detective Agency has got itself a freelance employee. At least, for a while. What do you say, Pop?”
“How does he feel about taking his orders from a woman?”
“You mean, until you get back?”
“I mean, in general. You’re in charge now. It’s time I passed the torch, so to speak. That doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere but I think it’s time for the next generation to hold the reins. I’ll still give you the benefit of my knowledge; just try to keep me from it.”
He let out a loud laugh, but Percy was silent for a moment, trying to absorb this development. Less than a year before he was dead-set against her being more than the office secretary. She swallowed hard.
“You’re sure?”
“Never surer. I’ve been doing some thinking, too, freezing under that damned boardwalk hour after hour. And we’re changing the name From Cole Brothers’ to Cole Detective Agency. Gilleathain would have wanted that. He saw the promise in you years ago. It took me a bit longer. So how does Rendell feel about taking orders from you?”
“We talked about it yesterday, Pop. He seems okay with it. Sylvia says he’s not your average, run-of-the-mill man.”
“You mean like your hard-headed father?”
Percy laughed. “Didn’t say that, Pop.”
“Didn’t have to.” Her father went on. “I don’t think we should pay Rendell more than ten bucks a day, being as our going rate is fifteen. And he’s on his own with small expenses, like bus fare, things like that. What do you think?”
“Perfect.” She grinned into the phone. “He starts today.”
“How’s it going with Howard? You going to be able to spring him?”
“I hope so, Pop. Listen to this.” She told him quickly about Ronald Bogdanovitch, Carlotta’s Chocolates, and the latest development from Howie’s neighbor, Lola Mae Latham.
“What made you go to see Howard’s neighbor?”
“Instinct, Pop. A gut feeling.”
“That’s what separates the greats from the not-so-greats. Now it’s up to Adjudication to get the district attorney to see reason.”
“He’s got his work cut out for him. Jude tells me the D.A. wants to make an example of this case.”
Percy heard the click-click of the payphone, indicating time was running out. She looked in her other hand and saw one more dime and a nickel. She put in the dime and waited for the high-pitched clinking to stop.
“Running out of coins, Pop. We got one more minute. Anything else to say?”
“Yes, if you can, take Mother out to a movie or
something, Persephone. She’s lonely. I can hear it in her voice.”
“She says the same thing about you, Pop.” Percy smiled into the phone. The original Romeo and Juliet, without the death scene. That’s my parents.
“Well, it’s almost over.” Pop let out a husky sigh. “I should be home in a few more days.”
“According to Bogdanovitch, I only got two days to find out all I can at the chocolate factory. Then supposedly he kicks me off the premises.”
“You watch your back with that one. He’s small time, but he’s got a bad rep. Maybe you should carry a little protection, at least for a while.” He was referring to the German Mauser her Uncle Gil had brought back from WWI and gave her on her sixteenth birthday.
“Will do. I always keep it locked in Ophelia’s glove compartment, along the lines of ‘you never know’.”
“Amen to that. Kiss Oliver for me, will you? I miss my grandson.”
“He misses you, too, Pop. Got to go. There’s a meatloaf sandwich with my name on it at the counter. Probably loaded with fillers, but it smells good.”
“No doubt better than Mother’s. Remember the time she put a bag of uncooked lima beans into a pound of ground beef, thinking to stretch it? It came out hard as a brick.”
“Didn’t we use it as a doorstop for years after, Pop?”
Poking fun at Mother’s ‘creative’ recipes was a long-time family tradition. They were careful not to tease Mother directly, though. She took her homemaking skills very seriously.
“Signing off now, Pop. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Good afternoon, Miss Cole.”
The Chocolate Kiss-Off (The Persephone Cole Vintage Mysteries Book 3) Page 7