“Another day in the jungle,” I said.
“Huh?”
“I just came from one of the worst homicide scenes I’ve ever been at,” I said. “Makes me wonder what’s going to become of civilization.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Amy said.
“I’ll save it up and tell Dan,” I said. “You don’t want to know the details of this one. Oh, and speaking of Dan, he told me to hug you and kiss Clay for him.” And I did just that before I had my reheated lunch and settled in next to Amy on the couch. I hadn’t even had time to collect my thoughts when our phone rang, startling Clay. He ejected the bottle’s nipple from his mouth and started to cry. Amy replaced the nipple and soothed him over again with her calming voice.
I got up and hurried to the kitchen phone. “Cooper,” I said.
“Matt, it’s Hannah,” the woman said. It was Dan’s secretary.
“Yes Hannah,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you at home,” Hannah said. “But have you seen Lieutenant Hollister lately?”
“Yes,” I said. “I just left him at a crime scene on the boulevard. Why?”
“He’s not answering the radio in his car,” Hannah said. “I just thought you’d know where he was.”
“Is it something important?” I said.
“Yes and no,” Hannah said. “I suppose it could wait.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m just a few minutes away from where I last saw him. I’ll drive down there and tell him to call you, all right?”
“Thanks, Matt,” Hannah said.
I hung up the phone and looked at Amy. “I have to find Dan,” I said. “I should be back shortly.”
With her hands full feeding Clay, Amy just nodded and winked at me before I left.
I found Dan still gathering information at Jacob’s Big and Tall Shop. He was talking with a woman in the shoe department. Both of them were sitting on chairs, both were smiling at each other and both seemed to be enjoying themselves in the moment. I walked up and stood next to Dan’s chair.
“Excuse me, Dan,” I said. “Hannah called me at home. She’s been trying to reach you. She’d like you to call in to the station right away.”
Dan and the woman both stood and faced me. Dan said, “Thanks, Matt. I’ll take care of that right away.” He gestured toward the woman and introduced her to me. “Matt,” Dan said. “I’d like you to meet Laverne Brewster.” Then he turned to Laverne. “Laverne,” he said to the woman, “This is Matt Cooper.”
I extended my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Laverne,” I said.
“Same here,” Laverne replied.
“Would you two excuse me?” Dan said. “I’d better call Hannah back before she comes looking for me. I’ll be right back.” Dan walked out the front door and headed for the radio car.
“Won’t you have a seat?” Laverne said when Dan was gone.
“All right,” I said. We both sat in silence for a few seconds before I said, “So, did you have some information about this case for Dan?”
Laverne shook her head. “No,” she said. “I was working in the stock room when this terrible thing happened. I didn’t see a thing.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “So Dan is…”
“Interesting,” Laverne said, as if to finish my sentence.
“That’s not exactly what I was going to say,” I told her. “I, uh…”
“Laverne smiled. “I know,” she said. “Strange, isn’t it? I mean meeting someone under circumstances like these. Here’s this poor man lying dead outside and a short time later, here I am, talking to a policeman and then suddenly something just clicks.”
“So you two…” I started to say.
Laverne smiled and softly nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Funny how you can tell about a person after just a few minutes. I know that old cliché about love at first sight, but I always thought that was a bunch of bull. But it looks like they were right.”
Now she had me smiling. “Now that is interesting,” I said. “You know Dan and I have been friends for years and just lately I met and fell in love with the woman of my dreams. We got married last year and we just had a son. And Dan has been ribbing me about the major changes in my life for some time now. I guess now he’s knows that what I’ve been telling him could really happen to anyone, even him.”
Laverne leaned in closer to me. “How about for now we just keep this little conversation between the two of us, okay? I’m sure if this thing works out between us, Dan will come around and start telling you the same things that you probably told him.”
“Sure,” I said. “Mum’s the word.”
Dan came back through the front door and walked back to where we were sitting. Laverne picked a shoe up off one of the displays and jumped in with part of a conversation that we hadn’t been having as a cover. “And if you walk around the house in them for a day or two, they’ll stretch out and eventually get more comfortable.”
I nodded, playing along with her cover-up. “So you don’t think I should go up another half size then?”
“I wouldn’t,” she said, putting the shoe back on the display.
Dan was none the wiser and looked down at Laverne, holding his hand out. She took it and he pulled her to a standing position. “I’ve got to get back to the station, Miss Brewster,” Dan said, trying to keep the conversation on a professional level for my benefit. “If I need any more information I’ll call you.”
“That’ll be fine, Lieutenant,” Laverne said, trying to keep a straight face in front of me.
Dan turned to leave. “You coming, Matt?” he said.
“Right behind you,” I said, following him out of the store. I turned and winked at Laverne and she winked back. I wondered how long it would take Dan to tell me about his good fortune.
Once outside the store, Dan turned to me and said, “Sorry you had to come all the way down here, Matt.”
“Was it important?” I said.
“What’s that?” Dan said.
“The reason Hannah needed to talk to you,” I said. “What did you think I meant?”
Dan seemed to be lost in thought and didn’t answer right away. “Huh?” he said.
I knew he was hooked. I knew the symptoms and I could see subtleties in his face. “Hannah?” I repeated.
“Nothing that couldn’t have waited,” Dan said. “Listen, I gotta get back to the precinct. “I’ll talk to you later.” Dan slid behind the wheel of his radio car and pulled away from the curb.
I drove home and found Amy in the kitchen, washing a few dishes. Clay’s bassinet was sitting across from her and he was asleep. I quietly closed the door and smiled at Amy.
“What’s up with you?” She said.
I walked behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. “You know how I’ve been telling you about Dan, how he’s always ribbing me about being domesticated? Well guess what?”
I filled Amy in on the little talk I’d had with Laverne Brewster while Dan was in his car. Amy wiped her hands on her apron and turned around.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be something if Laverne was the one?”
“The one what?” I said, and then realized what Amy meant. “Oh, yeah, the one. Yes, that would be something. I wonder how long it’ll take him to tell me about it.”
“Let him tell you in his own good time,” Amy said. “And don’t rib him about it, either.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “After the ribbing he gave me?”
“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t,” Amy said. “Come on, Matt, be the bigger man in this case and just support your friend when he tells you, all right?”
“All right,” I said, knowing full well that I would not let Dan get away with anything as potentially funny as this.
A week later I was going through my bank statement at my office and was too involved in the figures to notice my office door opening. By the time I looked up, a woman wa
s standing just inside the door. She rapped her knuckles on the open doorframe. She looked to be twenty or twenty-one with a slim figure.
“Anyone home?” She said.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing. “I didn’t hear you. Come in, please.”
She came all the way and, closing the door behind her. “Are you Mr. Cooper?” She said.
“Yes, I am,” I said, gesturing to my client’s chair. “And you are…?”
“Looking to hire a private investigator,” she said.
“Won’t you sit?” I said.
She reluctantly sat and gave me a look that told me she wanted no nonsense and that she wanted to get right to the matter at hand.
“How can I help you?” I said.
She stood and paced back and forth in front of my desk. “Mr. Cooper,” she began, “I need someone to find my father.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “You’re looking for your father? When did you last see him?”
“I’ve never seen him,” she said.
“You’ve lost me,” I said. “You want to start over?”
“Mr. Cooper,” she said, “I grew up with just my mother and my step dad. I’d been trying to find out about my real dad from mom since I can remember. When I was thirteen years old, my mother told me that she and dad had had a one-night stand shortly before she married the man I always assumed was my dad, and that the man disappeared the next day. Mom’s husband always assumed that I was his daughter and mom let him go on thinking that.”
I looked at her but held my comments.
“Mr. Cooper,” she went on, “I believe that my biological father lives somewhere right here in Los Angeles and I’d like you to find him for me.”
I leaned forward. “The obvious questions that I have to ask are, one, what if he doesn’t want to be found, and two, what about your step dad?”
“I’ve been thinking about that for eight years now, Mr. Cooper,” she said. “If you find him and tell him about me and he still doesn’t want to be found, I’ll just have to let it drop and try to move on with my life. But if I don’t at least make the effort, I’ll never be able to shake this feeling. Can you understand that, Mr. Cooper?”
“I think so,” I said. “But if this was a one-night stand more than twenty years ago, where would you suggest I start looking for this mystery man?”
“I’m not sure,” she said.
“Would you have any objections to my asking your mother, or doesn’t she know that you’re trying to find him?”
“Mom died six months ago,” she said. “So I guess any objections she might have had died with her. And dad, that is, mom’s husband, doesn’t know I’m looking. In fact, I still don’t think he even knows he’s not my real father. And he certainly doesn’t know I’m looking for anyone. I didn’t want to tell him just in case my real dad doesn’t want to see me.”
“And you figure you’d always have your step dad to fall back on if it doesn’t work out,” I said.
“That’s about the size of it,” the woman said.
“And that puts me back to square one,” I said. “It’s a big city out there and unless I have something to go on, I don’t see how I can help you.”
“Maybe she told my step dad about it, I don’t know,” she said. “But I can’t come right out and ask him, now can I? But you could.”
“Me?” I said. “How can I do that? He’d have to know that the request would be coming from you, wouldn’t he? And in the end, he’d know he wasn’t your real father and things might never be the same between you again after something like this.”
“I’ve thought about both of those things, Mr. Cooper,” she said. “Couldn’t you pretend to be looking into some made up insurance claim or something? Tell him that I may have some inheritance coming if you can trace my roots? I don’t know. Make something up. As for him finding out the truth, well, if he sticks by me after he knows, I’ll try to go on with my life as if he was my real dad. If he doesn’t want that afterwards, then he wasn’t worth worrying about.”
“Miss…” I stopped, realizing how awkward this conversation was. “First of all, you have the advantage. You know my name and I still don’t know yours. Eventually I’ll need to know who I’m working for if I take this assignment, so why not tell me now?”
She hesitated and then offered, “It’s Beatrice. Beatrice Dorsey. That was my step dad’s name, Ronald Dorsey. He adopted me when I was three. I don’t even remember that part of my life.”
I pulled my yellow legal pad from the middle drawer of my desk and jotted this information down, along with Dorsey’s current address and phone number. “Well, Beatrice,” I said.
“Call me Bea,” she said. “I never liked Beatrice. Sounds like an old lady’s name.”
“All right, Bea.” I said. “A job like this could get pretty involved and lengthy, and at thirty-five dollars a day this could end up costing you several hundred dollars just to find out that he doesn’t want to meet you. Are you prepared for that eventuality?
She opened her purse and withdrew a roll of bills, peeling off four fifty-dollar bills and laying them on my desk. “Is that enough for you to get started?”
I looked at the money and then back up at Bea. “Yes,” I said, “that will do nicely. I can start first thing tomorrow morning, if that’s all right with you?”
Bea smiled and nodded. “That will be fine, Mr. Cooper.”
She stuffed the rest of her money back into her purse and closed it. She stood and extended her hand out to me. I shook it, assured her that I’d do my best to find dear ol’ dad for her and showed her to the door. I’d try my best to accommodate her, but as I’d found out from similar dealing in the past, these things don’t always turn out for the better.
*****
The gunman carries his suitcase into the arena restroom, making sure no one has seen him go in. He’s been in this room before and he knows every inch of it. Above the toilet in the center stall is a grate and he knows from earlier visits that the opening will be wide enough to let him pass through easily. On a previous visit to this restroom he had removed the four screws that held the grate in place. This time all he has to do is push the grate upward, set it to one side, slide his suitcase in ahead of him and pull himself up, closing the grate behind him. He’s done it before during a practice run and knows exactly what to do and how long it will take.
He takes one last look out the restroom door down both ends of the hallway and closes the door again. He hurries to the center stall and standing on the toilet tank, pushes the grate up and over. The suitcase goes in first then he follows it, putting the grate back in place over the rectangular hole.
He slides his body away from the grate and waits. This is where he’ll rest for the next fifty-five minutes until the arena closes for the night. After everyone else has gone home and it’s quiet, he’ll slide along inside the ductwork until he’s in place above the arena seating area along the back wall. Saturday’s scheduled match is between two lesser–known contenders so he’s relatively certain that these two wrestlers will not be displaying their feats of strength and maneuverability to a packed house. The ground floor seating area will not even be filled to capacity and that means they won’t even open the balcony on this night. He’ll be able to do his job undetected and slip away just as easily.
The building falls silent and he’s worked his way through the ductwork all the way to the fresh air return vent. He opens the suitcase and pulls an eight-inch tripod from it. He sets that on the floor of the vent and then pulls the two pieces of the rifle out, connecting them together and clicking it into place on the tripod. He clamps the scope to the rifle and twists the knobs until the wrestling ring comes into sharp focus. Everything is perfect. He rests the butt of the rifle on the floor and lays back to run through his escape in his mind’s eye.
He knows from timed practices that after the shot, he can be packed up in on his way through the ductwork again in under twenty seconds. Another minute after that a
nd he’ll be back above the center stall in the men’s room. He can be out of the ductwork and on his way down the hall in another thirty-five seconds. It’ll take him another minute and ten seconds to make it to the door leading out onto the roof. From the roof, it’s just a matter of fifty-three steps to the edge of the roof. He can easily throw his suitcase across to the roof of the building next door. And finally, he’ll take a running start and hurl himself nine feet across the void between the two buildings, landing on the other side.
Once he’s on the roof of the other building, he can catch his breath and slow down, making his exit to the street three and a half minutes later. All in all it should take him no more than six and a quarter minutes from the time of the shot until he’s on the street, just another pedestrian walking home. The response time from the police department should be around eight minutes, if his calculations are correct.
*****
I drove home and told Amy about my latest client’s request. Her response was not what I had expected. She sat at the kitchen table and sighed.
“Oh, Matt,” she said, “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
“And why’s that?” I said. “This is all her idea. All I’m doing is helping her to do what she would do on her own if she could.”
“Yes,” Amy said, “but you have to remember that this girl is acting out of emotion and may not be thinking of the consequences down the road.”
“Consequences?” I said. “Like what?”
“Suppose the man she’s looking for turns out to be a prominent businessman or a regular Joe with a family of his own?” Amy said. “Or suppose he turns out to be some skid row bum or worse yet, someone with a criminal record? Then how will she feel?”
“Amy,” I said. “You and I both know that it’s probably a bad idea, but if I interceded in all my clients’ decisions and tried to talk sense into them, hell, I might as well pull in my shingle and find some other line of work. Come on, don’t shoot the messenger just ‘cause you don’t like the message.”
“Have you thought about what knowing might do to the girl?” Amy said.
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 105