The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories)

by Bernico, Bill

  Dad smiled and looked at me and then at Brad. “Never mind the appraisal,” Dad said. “I’ll take it.” He turned to me and said, “You hear that, Elliott? Brad’s going to give me eighteen thousand dollars for my Olds in trade.”

  Brad’s mouth dropped open and his eyes got wide. “Uh, no, sir,” Brad said. “That was the cash difference I was talking about. Trade-in value on your car is around three hundred dollars.”

  I looked back at the dealership and saw several other salesmen standing around in front of the large glass window, looking our way. Dad saw them, too, and took the opportunity to put one hand around Brad’s shoulder, turn him toward the crowd of gawkers and start walking him back toward the office. He let Brad get two steps ahead of him before he raised one leg and gave Brad a swift kick in the ass.

  “There,” Dad said to Brad. “Go back and tell your co-workers that Clay Cooper is nobody’s fool.” He turned to Gloria and me. By now we were laughing hysterically. Dad said, “Let’s go, kids. I don’t think Brad here wants to deal.” We all got back into Dad’s Olds and drove away. Out my window I could see Brad rubbing his ass on his way back to the showroom.

  Gloria leaned over the back seat and pointed to the south. “There’s another Toyota dealer just two miles to the south on Western Avenue,” she said. “Want to check there?”

  “All right,” Dad said.

  I looked over the flawless interior of Dad’s car and listened to the smooth purring its engine made as we drove along. The exterior was certainly in good condition. Except for the two hundred fifty thousand miles, I really didn’t see why Dad wanted to trade it in.

  “You sure you want to do this?” I said. “If you keep on doing what you’ve been doing, you could probably get another two hundred thousand miles out of this car.”

  “You think so?” Dad said.

  “Besides,” Gloria pointed out, “if you really have your mind set on a new car, you’d do much better to keep this one and go for an outright purchase. These dealers always have a pretty good spread between retail and their cost and if you find an unsold model from last year, you can save even more. And with the markup they have on these new cars, they’d be getting your Olds for nothing anyway, so why not just keep it?”

  “I think you may have something there, Gloria,” Dad said. “But just let me have a quick look at the Toyota so I can at least satisfy my curiosity.”

  We drove down Western, past Sunset, past Santa Monica and there on the right was a large auto dealership whose sign let the whole town know that they sold not only Toyota, but several other foreign makes as well. Dad pulled into the lot and stopped near the row of Camrys.

  We all got out and walked along with Dad as he scanned the window stickers on each car. Seven or eight cars down the row I saw a man also looking at the cars, but he was coming this way from the other end of the row. He looked familiar and at first I couldn’t place him. Suddenly it came to me. This was Rudy Carver heading our way. Rudy still had his gaze trained on the cars and didn’t get a look at me and I wanted to keep it that way, so I turned away, pretending to be interested in the window sticker of a red Camry. I waited until he’d passed by me before rejoining Dad and Gloria.

  “What was that all about?” Dad said.

  “What was what all about?” I said.

  “All that business about burying your face in the window sticker until Rudy Carver passed us,” Dad said.

  “Now how would you know Rudy Carver?” I said.

  “Who doesn’t know him?” Dad said. “We’ve crossed paths several times in the past. He’s one bad dude.”

  “Dude?” I said. “Who says dude anymore? Didn’t that go out with platform shoes and Afros?”

  “He’s a very undesirable and despicable person,” Dad said. “You like that better?”

  “Stick with dude,” I said. “So what do you know about him?”

  The three of us stopped and I motioned them to step between two of the cars, out of Carver’s sight. Dad looked over the roof of the Toyota and could see that Rudy was too far away to hear anything before he spoke. “Several years ago I was working on a case involving a missing child,” Dad said. “Her parents called me in when they got a ransom note telling them not to call the police. They wanted me to handle the payoff and get the girl back for them. Well, I took the case, brought the money to the drop location but never got the girl back, at least not alive.”

  Gloria gasped. “My god, what happened?” she said.

  “Another man created a diversion while Carver picked up the money,” Dad said. “I got a call the next day at my office telling me where I could find the girl. Needless to say, she was dead. She had been dead for two days, according to the medical examiner.”

  “And you’re sure it was Carver?” I said.

  “It was,” Dad said, “but I could never get the proof that I needed to have the police bring him in.”

  “That’s terrible,” Gloria said. “What did you do?”

  “What could I do?” Dad said. “They covered their tracks very well and left no evidence. They got away with murder.”

  “Did Dean know about this?” I said.

  “Eventually,” Dad said. “I mean, I told him about it the same day the girl’s parents hired me but said that they threatened to kill the girl if the cops got involved. There wasn’t much he could do, but that case has haunted him for all these years. Just the thought of Rudy Carver makes him grit his teeth.”

  “I know,” I said, and then realized that I’d said too much about it. “That is, I know how frustrating something like that can be. I’m just glad Rudy Carver is not my loose end.”

  Gloria shot me a look, but I refused to make eye contact with her. Dad finished looking over the Camrys in that row and we all turned around and headed back to his Olds.

  “You know,” Dad said. “I guess I will just hang on to my Olds and drive it until it falls off its wheels. Let’s go.”

  It was almost five o’clock when the three of us got back to the office. Dad made a beeline for the bathroom and Gloria took that opportunity to sidle up next to me and whisper, “What’s up with you and Rudy Carver?” she said. “And what was that you said about Dean and knowing what he feels when he thinks of Carver?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just forget it.”

  “That’s your case, isn’t it?” Gloria said. “You’re working on something for Dean that involves Rudy Carver, aren’t you?”

  “Shhh,” I said. “Dad wasn’t supposed to know anything about this, and neither were you. You have to promise me not to say a word about this to anyone. Lives could be at stake here, so your silence is very important.”

  Gloria stopped whispering just before the bathroom door opened and Dad stepped out.

  “You know,” Dad said, still wiping his hands on a paper towel, “You two really ought to learn how to whisper at a lower volume.” He turned to me and said, “Rudy Carver, eh? What’s Dean got you doing for him and how is Carver involved?”

  “Oh that just great,” I said. “Dean swore me to secrecy and now three people know about it. This is like a bad episode of The Andy Griffith Show.”

  “I saw that one,” Dad said. “Isn’t that where Barney leaks it to the whole town about the gold truck coming through Mayberry? I love that episode.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed heavily. “Oh Christ,” I said.

  “Well,” Gloria said. “Let’s see if we can’t put a positive spin on this thing.”

  “How can you possibly see an up side to this mess?” I said.

  “For one thing,” Dad said, “Whatever it is you have to do for Dean just got easier by three hundred percent. Gloria and I will be glad to help you out on this one, won’t we, Gloria?”

  Gloria smiled and nodded. “Beats checking up on Lumpy Rutherford,” she said.

  “Who?” Dad said.

  “Lloyd Rutherford,” Gloria explained. “That who I’m tailing for his wife. She wants to see if he’s cheating
on her. But now that I can finish that case in an hour or less, I’ll be free to help your son with his case.”

  “And what a case for me to get back in the game with,” Dad said. “Where do we start, Elliott? Come on, you might as well fill us in on the details. It’s the three of us now and even if Gloria hadn’t guessed what you were up to, it would still have been the two of us.”

  “How do you figure that?” I said.

  “How long have I known Dean Hollister?” Dad said.

  “Since you were kids,” I said. “Grandpa and Dean’s dad were close friends. Hell, I’ve known the Hollisters all my life.”

  “So have I,” Dad said. “And before he came to you with this problem, who do you suppose he unloaded on first?”

  “You?” I said.

  “Bingo,” Dad said. “Now let’s stop arguing and get to work putting Rudy Carver away, shall we?”

  “Oh boy,” Gloria said. “At last, a case with some meat on the bone. When are we starting on it?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning,” I said. “I’ve got a few ideas I want to try out and I have to admit that I had discounted some of my ideas because they took more than one person to execute. But now I’m wide open again.”

  I looked at the clock. It was coming up on five-thirty. I looked at Gloria. She was tapping the imaginary watch on her wrist to let me know she had to go.

  “I’d better get moving,” Gloria said. “I’ve got a few things to do before I head over to the Stellar Lanes on Pico. I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow morning. Good night, gentlemen.” Gloria left the office and headed down to the elevator.

  Dad sat on the leather couch and looked at me. “So,” he began, “do you know what your first move is going to be?”

  “I thought I could give Dean a two for one bargain,” I said. “That is, find a way to put Carver away for good while at the same time, making it look like it all happened as a result of someone else’s efforts.”

  “Someone else?” Dad said. “Who’d you have in mind for the patsy?”

  “Leo Tucker,” I said. “Carver’s lawyer.”

  Dad laughed and slapped his thigh. “Tucker,” he said. “That’s perfect. He doesn’t deserve to be walking free any more than Carver does. Hell, he’s only half a step further up the evolution ladder than Carver. Any idea how you plan to pull that off?”

  “I’m still working out the details,” I said. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

  Back at her apartment, Gloria stripped, showered, did her hair and makeup and dressed in her most provocative outfit, complete with stiletto pumps and a long, flowing blonde wig. She looked herself over in the full-length hall mirror, made minor adjustments to her form fitting dress and switched purses before walking out to her car. Not only was she going to keep an eye on Mr. Rutherford, but if need be, she’d play an active role in making sure Violet Rutherford got her money’s worth.

  Gloria pulled her car into an empty space near the back of the parking lot outside the Stellar Lanes bowling alley. The car clock read seven forty-eight. She took one last look at her image in her rear view mirror before getting out of the car and walking into the bowling establishment. Once inside, Gloria felt like she’d overdressed for the part. She was the only woman in the place not wearing slacks and a blouse. There was no doubt now that she would not go unnoticed.

  She took a seat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver. From where she was sitting, she had a perfect view of all the lanes and all of the bowlers. She swiveled toward the alleys, crossing her legs at the knee. She had great looking legs that were sure to turn heads and she knew how to make the best use of them.

  Gloria reached into her purse and took a quick look at the five by seven snapshot of Lloyd Rutherford and then tucked it away again. She turned her attentions to the men on the alleys. By process of elimination, she’d narrowed down her search to two men who looked similar. She narrowed that down even further when one of the men walked past the bowlers and took a seat next to another man, holding his hand and looking into his eyes with something akin to lust.

  That left just one possibility and once the last man had thrown his ball down the alley and turned around, Gloria had no doubt that this was Lloyd Rutherford. So far, all he was doing was bowling with his pals, like he’d told his wife he was doing. She didn’t see any women milling around, waiting in the wings, so to speak. She nursed her screwdriver at the bar for another fifteen minutes before she swiveled back toward the bar and set the glass down. She told the bartender to bring her another. A minute later the bartender set another screwdriver down in front of Gloria. She reached into her purse to pay for it, but a hand appeared from somewhere off to one side and threw a five dollar bill on the bar.

  “Take it out of there,” the man said.

  Gloria turned to find Lloyd Rutherford standing next to her, eyeing her like a fox eyes a chicken. He smiled and turned on the old charm. “What’s a girl like you doing drinking alone?” Rutherford said.

  “Waiting for Mr. Right to come along,” Gloria said, in a sulky voice. She picked up her drink and sipped. “Thank you,” she said.

  “The pleasure’s all mine, Miss…” he said.

  “Campbell,” Gloria said. “Gloria Campbell.” She held one hand out to him.

  He took it and bent over to gently kiss her knuckles. “Lloyd Rutherford,” he said, trying to sound debonair.

  Gloria looked over at the alley that Rutherford had been bowling on. “Aren’t you going to miss your turn?” she said, gesturing with her glass toward the lanes.

  “It’s not tournament play,” Rutherford explained. “Won’t be for another week yet. We’re all just practicing tonight and frankly, I don’t need the practice, at least not on the lanes.” He winked at Gloria.

  Gloria turned away and lowered her eyes. Rutherford place his index finger under Gloria’s chin and lifted her head so he could look into her eyes. He smiled and Gloria smiled back.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” Rutherford said. “This place is too crowded, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I know exactly what you mean,” Gloria said, sliding off her stool and slipping her arm around Rutherford’s. He guided her toward the front door and out into the parking lot, their arms still locked. Rutherford began walking up the row of cars, his gaze fixed on Gloria’s face.

  “Where are we going?” Gloria said.

  “I want to show you my new car,” Rutherford said. “It’s parked right up here. It has all the latest options. The one I like best is the reclining seats.”

  The couple continued walking when Gloria noticed one car in the back row. Its headlights came on and the car began to move, slowly at first, then accelerating rapidly. It was coming straight at them. When it got closer, Gloria recognized the distinctive hood ornament. It was the round icon found on a Mercedes, and this one was silver.

  At the last second, Gloria ripped her arm out of Rutherford’s grasp and jumped to one side, landing between two parked cars. Rutherford, who was still clueless and still concentrating on what he’d planned for Gloria once they were in his car, never saw the Mercedes coming. It struck him dead center and sent him sailing through the air twenty feet or more. The Mercedes stopped and the driver looked out the windshield at the man lying on the parking lot. The car accelerated again and ran over the man as he lay there moaning.

  Gloria watched in horror as the car stopped again, backed up and ran the man over a third time. Now she could see into the driver’s side window. There behind the wheel sat Violet Rutherford, laughing manically. The last pass over Lloyd Rutherford’s body had sent the Mercedes off to one side. It was wedged up against a blue Cadillac and it was still in gear, its tires spinning and smoking.

  Gloria rushed over to the Mercedes, reached in and turned off the ignition. Violet Rutherford had collapsed against the steering wheel. Gloria reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone, calling for police and an ambulance. It took police six minutes to arrive.

  T
wo patrolmen stepped out of their cruiser and approached Gloria. “What happened here?” one of them said to Gloria.

  “The woman behind the wheel came barreling down this way,” Gloria said, pointing to the row of cars behind her. “She aimed the car right at us and I was able to jump out of the way. “Mr. Rutherford, there, wasn’t so quick. She hit him about twenty feet farther back and he landed where he is now. She drove over him again and then backed up, running over him a third time.”

  “Do you know either of them?” the officer asked Gloria.

  “The woman behind the wheel is Violet Rutherford,” Gloria said. “And the guy on the ground is, I mean was her husband.”

  The cop’s eyes got wide. He looked at the man on the ground and then at the woman behind the wheel of the Mercedes. “How do you know them?” the cop said.

  Gloria pointed to Violet just as the second cop was pulling her from behind the wheel. “Mrs. Rutherford hired me to tail her husband,” she said. “She suspected that he was cheating on her.” Gloria reached into her purse and produced her shield and I.D. card and held them up for the cop to see. “I’m a private investigator working under cover. Mr. Rutherford was walking me out into the parking lot. Said he wanted to show me his new car. And well, you know the rest.” She handed the cop one of her cards. “This is where I can be reached.”

  Just then the ambulance arrived, followed by the medical examiner’s wagon. Andy Reynolds, the county M.E., got to the body at about the same time as the ambulance attendants. Andy crouched down and placed two fingers against Lloyd Rutherford’s neck. Then he pulled a stethoscope out of his black bag, stuck the earpieces into his ears and listened to Rutherford’s chest. Andy pulled the stethoscope out of his ears, stood and instructed the ambulance attendants to take the body back to the morgue. He looked at the cop and shook his head. “He’s had it,” Andy said.

  The second cop turned Violet Rutherford around and snapped his handcuffs on her wrists, leading her back to the squad car. “Better send a wrecker out to pick up the Mercedes,” he told the first cop.