He smiled and quietly said, "I was serious yesterday. I want in."
I wasn't sure how to reply. I'd never set up a partnership before. "Let me talk to my lawyer and I'll get back to you, if that's OK."
"That's fine. Good luck with your investigation, Nick. I'm sure you'll find the real killer."
"Thanks, Freddie."
Roz piped up. "If you need help sleuthing, be sure to let us know."
We all laughed. I reached over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Roz."
She smiled. "You're welcome, my dear. Do you mind if I just pop by during the day while you're in town?"
"Of course, not. I hope you will."
She nodded and followed Freddie out the door. They walked down the bricked sidewalk and then made a left to head around the block. Their house was on the street behind ours and they were walking home.
Billy said, "Well, kids, I've done my best and you're on your own. Congratulations." We shook hands. He didn't strike me as the type to be overly affectionate, which was odd since all of my fireman and cop friends would happily kiss each other both coming and going. I wondered if it was the difference in our ages or the difference between Los Angeles and San Francisco.
"Thanks for everything, Billy." That was Carter.
In reply, and with a twinkle in his eye, Billy said, "You're welcome and you'll get my bill."
We both laughed as he walked out to his car. His blue Cadillac was parked behind Carter's Mercedes.
I turned and looked at Ben. He looked sad. Carter, reading my mind, said, "You can sleep here tonight, if you want."
Ben sighed. "No. I should go home. I can always ask Greg to sleep in the second bedroom."
Carter said, "That's a good idea. I can't imagine he wants to stay another night in that pigsty."
Ben smiled wanly. "I might just do that."
I walked over to Ben and hugged him. As he hugged me back, I could feel him crying. I kissed him on the cheek and said, "We'll get him out, Ben. I promise."
Ben nodded, sniffed, and whispered, "Please do, Nick. This is the first night I've spent without him since you introduced us."
I patted him on the back and replied, "We will. And you'll be fine. And, don't forget, we have that meeting with Jessup in Culver City at the soundstage at 10 tomorrow morning."
Ben sighed. "Yeah. I hadn't forgotten."
He walked over to Carter who leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, as well. "Call us if you need anything, Ben." Looking at me, he asked, "Did you give Ben our phone number?"
I nodded.
"What is our phone number?"
"Crestview 9-1002."
Ben repeated. "Crestview 9-1002."
Carter did the same. "Crestview 9-1002."
Howie, who had been watching everything, somberly intoned, "Crestview 9-1002. It's like something monks chant."
With that, we all laughed and Ben walked outside, climbed into his car, and left.
I turned to Howie. "Thanks for all your help."
"Sure thing."
With a grin, Carter asked, "How was Nick's lasagna compared to Mrs. DaCosta's?"
Howie grinned. "Better, if you can believe it." Looking at me, he asked, "Want me to help you wash up?"
Before I could answer, Carter said, "Why don't you go on home?"
Howie nodded, looking slightly hurt. I didn't blame him. Carter seemed to suddenly realize what he'd done and quickly added, "Sorry, kid. What I mean is that I plan on ravaging my husband shortly in our new bed and the dishes can wait until morning."
Howie laughed and said, "You two are my heroes." Without any further comment, he turned on his heel, and made his way out through the back door in the kitchen.
I stood and looked at Carter. It really did feel like we were back on Hartford Street. We were alone in the house, which was a wonderful feeling, and I knew that no one would be knocking on our bedroom door in the middle of the night. Without any prompting, we both walked around and turned off all the lights. When that was done, I watched as Carter, a shadow in the dark, walked up to me. He was breathing heavily. He put his left hand behind my neck, squatted down, and grabbed my legs with his right. He then picked me up bodily and held me tight to his chest. As he carried me down the hall, I whispered, "Don't throw me on the bed, Carter."
In reply, he gruffly said, "I'll do whatever the hell—" He stopped in the doorway for a long moment. I nestled my head against his thick bicep. He pulled me closer as I did and then said, "Oh, you mean this ain't your grandfather's old bed?"
"Yeah."
He carried me into the bedroom and very gently put me on the bed. I watched as his shadow began to strip down to nothing in the dark and then let him do the same to me.
. . .
We were having dinner with the Queen of England at Buckingham Palace. It was an intimate affair. Just Carter and me and the Queen and the Prince. She was very nice. He was a little stodgy. I realized I was older than she and began to worry if she knew what she was doing. Prince Phillip stood up, threw his napkin on his plate, and said, "I've had enough of these two, Liz." He stalked away while the staff whispered. I wondered if she really was called Liz. I doubted it.
I turned to look at Carter and realized he had a crown on his head. Of course he did. He was related to the Queen. I didn't know how I'd forgotten that. We were standing up at the top of the highest part of the Tower of London. It was so high in the sky. Much higher than our office building at home. We could see all of London which had a lot more pasture than I expected. As the wind blew, the tower swayed and moved, much more than it should have. I put my arms around Carter. He squeezed me and said, "Wake up." I looked up at him and said, "Don't be silly. Liz hasn't served dessert yet. We can't leave until then. Maybe she's made lamingtons for us. Or is that just an Australian thing?"
"Nick, wake up."
I opened my eyes. I could see a shadow hovering above me. I reached up and felt Carter's stubble-covered face. "What?"
"Ben just called. Greg and Micky got into a fight. Greg broke Micky's nose and dislocated his shoulder. They're all at the hospital. Ben wants us to come down." He reached down and kissed me. "What were you dreaming about?"
I sighed. "Something about Liz and dessert."
"Liz who? Liz Taylor? Are you dreaming about Hollywood?"
I laughed as he kissed me again. "No. Much bigger. Liz as in Queen Elizabeth."
Carter nibbled on my left ear. He whispered, "She doesn't look like a Liz. She looks like a Betty."
I put my arms around his neck. "We need to get up. Ben needs us."
Carter sighed and said, "I know." He kissed my forehead.
"Why didn't I hear the phone?"
"I was already awake when it rang."
"You were?"
"Yes. That kid was in the swimming pool. I heard him splashing around. Buck naked, too."
I laughed. "You know you're not his type, right?"
Carter kissed my lips. "You saw that, huh?"
"You bet. I saw you running your eyes over his body. And I know why."
"Why?" asked Carter as he ran his right hand along my face.
"He's not the one you have a crush on. It's his motorcycle."
Carter laughed. "You're right, Nick. When you're right, you're right."
"Why haven't you bought one since we were in Georgia?" He'd had an Indian motorcycle while we were on a case, investigating his father's murder, in Albany, Georgia, back in the summer of '53.
"It's one thing to run around on a motorcycle in the backwoods of Georgia. It's a whole other thing to go up and down California Street. Every time I've thought about it, all I can imagine myself doing is driving around and around Huntington Park. That would get boring after a while."
"It's mostly flat around here."
"It's not just the hills. It's also the traffic."
"We have to go, Carter."
"I know," he sighed. "Just five more minutes. They'll wait."
I said, "Fine," and pu
lled him down on me.
Chapter 13
General Hospital
1200 N. State Street
Los Angeles, Cal.
Tuesday, July 12, 1955
Half past 3 in the morning
We walked into the emergency department and looked around. Ben and Greg were sitting against a far wall. Ben was angrily flipping through an old Life Magazine. Greg looked a little dazed. He had a black left eye and a small adhesive bandage on his left cheek.
We walked up and, as we did, Greg stood and looked at me sheepishly.
"Well?" I asked. I was more amused than anything else.
"I'm sorry, Nick."
"What happened?"
Ben, who was the shortest of the four of us and as skinny as me, got up and put his finger in Greg's face. With a hiss, he said, "You were a police lieutenant. You should know better." He was piping hot angry. I assumed it had more to do with Martinelli in jail and being exhausted than anything else.
I looked at Greg. "Well?"
Carter put his big hand on Ben's neck and said, "Let's you and me go talk over here, Ben."
Still angry, Ben let himself be led away to the other side of the waiting area. I watched as the two of them sat down. Carter, who was learning a lot about how to get people to do what he wanted, put his right hand on Ben's left thigh and kept it there. I knew the effect it would have on the smaller guy. It would relax him and make him feel safer. Or, at least, that was the effect it always had on me.
Looking back at Greg, I said, "Let's sit down."
He nodded and took the seat he'd had. I sat next to him and said, "I'll make this a little easier for you. Micky came on to you and wouldn't back down. That about right?"
Greg sighed. "That's the extent of it. We got in around 11. We'd been down in Santa Monica keeping an eye on our target. We followed him back to his house in Beverly Hills and watched him to make sure he went home and stayed home. Then the locals came up and told us to beat it. That's the third time that's happened. We show them our investigator licenses and everything and they still kick us out."
"They can't arrest you."
"I know. But it's better to go along and get along. You know that part."
"Yeah. So, you got back to the Los Feliz apartment at 11. Then what?" I was breaking my own rule about asking leading questions but I figured he would talk no matter what we did. And I wanted to get back to bed.
"I went upstairs to check on Ben. He was all broke up so we talked for a while. Around midnight, I went downstairs to grab my clothes. He asked me to stay with him and I was more than happy to do so."
"Why have you been bunking with Micky since you got down here?"
"Because we were keeping odd hours and I didn't want to disturb Carlo and Ben. They're great guys. And I'm just as broke up about Carlo as Ben is."
I said dryly, "I doubt that, but go on. You went downstairs around midnight."
"Right. So I go in, tell Micky I'm moving upstairs. He says fine. No problem. I start grabbing my stuff. I bend over and he grabs me by the waist and starts..." Greg ran his right hand over his face and sighed. "I'm sure you can imagine."
I nodded. "Yeah. What'd you do?"
"I stood up and told him to knock it off. He reached over for me and pulled me in close and starts kissing me. I pulled away and told him to stop. I said how I was in love with Mike and that he had no right. He put his hand on my face and I started swinging."
I sighed. "How'd his shoulder get dislocated?"
"He's a tough guy, as you can imagine. I had to break a chair over his head and then push him down. He hit the floor hard and I could hear it pop. I think it's happened before because he didn't seem too fazed by it. He got up and came for me. That's when I popped him in the nose and broke it. I'm sorry, Nick."
"I need to ask you a tough question, Greg."
"What?"
"Did you and Micky fool around before tonight?"
Greg sighed. "I guess you have the right to ask since we both work for you. And I know you're gonna call Mike—"
"You haven't called him yet?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you first."
I didn't like the sound of that. And I knew Mike wouldn't either. "So what's your answer?"
"No! Of course, not. Micky's a good detective and can hold his own in a brawl but he's a pig. Besides, I'm in love." His voice cracked as he said the last sentence.
I leaned in and quietly said, "Then you get the fuck up and go over to that payphone and call your goddam lover, Greg."
He stood and made a beeline for the row of payphone booths. Once he was settled in and on the phone, I made my way over to where Ben and Carter were huddled. I pulled a chair up and sat in front of them. "How are you, Ben?"
He looked at me. His eyes were red again. "I think I'm tired."
"No wonder," I said. "You haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. You drive here?"
He nodded.
I looked at Carter who stood and handed me his car keys. I stood and pocketed them. Carter said, "I'll drive you home in your car, Ben, and put you to bed."
Ben nodded wearily and stood. "Thanks." Looking at me, he said, "Will you ever forgive me for not liking you at first, Nick?"
I smiled. "You must be exhausted to be talking like that."
He shrugged. "I guess."
I suddenly remembered something. "Did the police get called in?"
Ben shook his head. "No, thank God. One less problem in this whole mess. I still don't understand what happened."
Carter looked down at me with a question in his expression. I said, "It's what you thought." We'd talked about what the cause of the fight might have been on the way over.
As he put his hand on the back of Ben's neck, Carter said, "I'll tell you about it on the way home."
Ben nodded wearily. Looking at me, he said, "Thanks, you two." He looked around cautiously. We were the only people on our side of the room. In a low voice, he added, "I really love you both."
I smiled and put my hand on his arm. "And we love you, too."
. . .
I was flipping through the magazine that Ben had left behind when Greg walked up. He plopped down next to me and said, "Well, that wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."
"He loves you, Greg."
"Yeah. But you know about his expectations."
I sat there and nodded. I sure the hell did. When I had lived with and loved Mike, I'd been a lousy teenager whom he was setting back on the straight and narrow. Mike had made me into a man and what he couldn't teach me, the Navy did. Mike was as much a parent to me as my own father. I wondered if he still acted like a father figure in his relationships. Other than Greg and myself, he hadn't fallen in love with any of the guys he'd ever gone with.
When the two of them had fallen in love the summer before, I'd tried to ask Mike about their compatibility problem. He didn't want to talk about it, which was fair enough since it wasn't any of my business. They were both tough, aggressive guys and I knew that one of them was going to have make the switch. I also knew Mike well enough to know that it wouldn't be him.
That had seemed to have worked itself out. The more I'd become friends with Greg, the more I realized he was just waiting for someone like Mike to come into his life. And, if those expectations were still there, it could be a tough row to hoe. I knew that only too well.
I asked, "What'd he say?"
"After I told him the whole story, he asked me if I had been the one to bring Micky to the hospital and was I going to be paying the bill?"
I laughed. "That sounds like Mike."
"Yeah. I told him I'd already taken care of it. He also told me he loved me and he was glad I'd knocked Micky out because otherwise he would have had to come down here and do it himself."
I laughed again. "Did he mention anything about firing Micky?"
"Well, I asked him whether that was a possibility and then he asked me if I wanted him to do so and I told him I didn't, so he said he wouldn't. But
he's coming down later this morning in one of your planes, if there's one he can use, or on a P.S.A. flight, if there isn't."
I nodded. "Fair enough. Did you drive down here?"
"No, I flew."
I nodded. "I would ask you about the job you're on but I'll let Mike handle that." I paused a beat. "Gotta meet those expectations, right?"
Greg snorted in laughter and then said, "Yeah." He sighed. "You've been a good friend to me, Nick. I really appreciate everything."
I nodded. "I like you too, Greg. Even when you were trying to play butch cop when we first met."
He laughed. "That was my technique. Worked on most people."
"I'm sure." I stretched out my arms. "So, Carter just left with Ben. When is Micky supposed to be released?"
"I'm surprised he's not done already."
I looked up and saw him come around the corner. He saw us both and winced. I couldn't blame him. I stood and said, "Wait here."
Greg said, "Sure," as I walked over.
With his right arm in a sling and a couple of bandages over his battered nose, Micky met me in the middle of the waiting area. He looked down at me and said, "I'm sorry, Nick."
I nodded and said, "You should be. Mike's coming down in a few hours and he'll straighten things out."
"Am I fired?"
I shook my head. "Not on my account. That's between you and Mike. Why'd you do it?"
He shrugged and, in a very low voice, said, "Horny."
I smiled in spite of myself. "Seems like you shouldn't have any trouble finding dates."
He sighed. "Not in this town. It's not like Frisco. Everyone around here wants the young, cute kids who are blond and just off the train from Iowa. They don't like big guys like me."
I shook my head. "First off, and I can't believe I'm doing this, but it ain't 'Frisco,' Micky. It's San Fran-cis-co. Long as you work for me, you gotta know using that damn word is a firing offense."
Micky looked down at me, puzzled. "Really?"
I nodded. "Really. We natives don't like it." I grinned. "So learn some goddam respect."
He relaxed a little. "Will do, Boss."
"Second off, what about down at the beach? I thought that place was covered in muscle heads."
The Pitiful Player (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 14) Page 10