The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories)

by Bernico, Bill

  After Gloria had finished giving her statement to the two cops, she drove back home and collapsed on her sofa, kicking off her shoes. She pulled the blonde wig from her head and ran her fingers through her own hair. “What a night,” she said aloud. Then she remembered her arrangement with Violet Rutherford. “Shit,” she yelled, remembering that Violet was supposed to pay her when she came out to her car. There was no chance of collecting anything from her now.

  Gloria looked at the wall clock above her television set. It was not even nine o’clock yet and already she’d had one hell of a day. She picked up the phone on the end table next to her couch and dialed Elliott’s home number.

  “Cooper,” Elliott said.

  “Elliott,” Gloria said. “You’re not going to believe the night I’ve had.” And she proceeded to give him the details, ending with not being paid for her efforts.

  “Not only did you not make any money,” Elliott said. “You’re probably in the hole after figuring in your own expenses. I hope this teaches you to at least collect half of your fee up front.”

  Gloria sighed loud enough to be heard on Elliott’s end. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, and hung up. She hooked her toe into one of the pumps and flung it across the room.

  By ten to nine the next morning, Gloria and I were back in the office waiting for Dad. He showed up three minutes later, eager to get started on a case after so many months of recuperating at home. Dad spoke first.

  “So what did you come up with?” Dad said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m drawing a blank. I thought we could put our heads together and come up with something that’ll work.”

  The room fell silent.

  “Anyone,” I said. “Just jump in with any idea and let’s see if it’s workable. Don’t be shy. No idea is too stupid.”

  Again the silence.

  Gloria’s face contorted and she seemed to be staring at a spot on the floor. She looked up and straightened out her face. “How about this?” she said. “We kill Carver and pin it on Tucker.”

  “I take that back,” I said. “I guess some ideas are too stupid after all.”

  Dad held up one finger. “But,” he said, pausing briefly, “let’s take that premise and tweak it a bit. Suppose we get one of them to kill the other. The dead one won’t bother anyone ever again and the other one will go to prison or be executed. Both idiots taken care of. Two for one, so to speak.”

  I pointed at dad. “Sounds good in theory,” I said, “but how do we make it a reality? Come on now, we’re making progress here. Let’s work out all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘supposes’ and put ourselves in the shoes of the people who will no doubt be investigating it.”

  “And remember,” Dad said. “We can’t expect any help or cooperation from L.A.’s finest, not even from Dean.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t even want to know anything until he reads about it in the paper the next morning,” I reminded Dad and Gloria. “So let’s start with who kills whom. Obviously it would be better if Carver killed his attorney. That would be more in character with Carver’s personality. Besides, if Tucker killed Carver, he’d find a way to make it self-defense or use some other legal maneuver to get away with it. No, we have to make sure they’re both disposed of permanently.”

  Gloria jumped in. “What would make Carver kill Tucker?” she said.

  “Suppose it got back to Carver that Tucker was planning to give him up in exchange for some other favor from the police?” I said.

  “What kind of favor?” Dad said.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Suppose Tucker got caught laundering money or got caught with a shit load of drugs in his possession. If the evidence was strong enough and if Tucker felt trapped, he might flip Carver to get himself out of the jam.”

  “Don’t you think Tucker is smart enough to avoid any traps like that?” Gloria said. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just planted the idea in Carver’s head that Tucker was going to give him up? Carver’s just hot-headed enough to act without thinking.”

  “We can’t take that chance,” I said. “If Carver comes after Tucker and doesn’t kill him right away, Tucker just might be able to talk his way out of a fix like that and then Carver and Tucker both would be on the offensive, making it harder for any of us to get to either of them. No, the fix has to be real, not imagined.”

  “Well,” Dad said. “None of us has the kind of money it would take to set up a laundering scheme. And drugs wouldn’t be that easy to get, either. At least not in the quantities we’d need to get a conviction.”

  “Back up a step there, Clay,” Gloria said.

  “To where?” Dad said.

  “Back to where you said something about us not having enough money to make a laundering rap stick,” Gloria said. “What would be better than real money to plant on him?”

  “Counterfeit,” I said, snapping my fingers. “But where do we get that? That’s almost as hard to come by as the real stuff.”

  “This is where complete trust comes in,” Gloria said. “And I mean complete trust among the three of us. We’d have to stand together on this one or it won’t work.”

  Dad’s eyes lit up. “Are you suggesting we make the counterfeit bills ourselves?” he said.

  “Think about it,” Gloria said. “You stick a couple of real tens and twenties and maybe a couple of fives in a copy machine and crank out a sheet of bills. You turn the sheets and the bills over and crank out the second side. Once you have that master sheet, you can set the copier on fifty or a hundred and before you know it you’d have…”

  “Twenty-five to life in San Quentin,” Dad said, finishing her sentence.

  “That’s what I mean about complete trust among the three of us,” Gloria repeated. “We crank out a couple thousand dollars of the phony stuff, cut it up and wrap it into bundles and somehow manage to plant it on Tucker or at least put it where he’ll find it. He’s just greedy enough to try to pass it or sell it. As long as the three of us deny to our death any knowledge of its existence, we can get away with it.”

  I pointed at Gloria. “Actually,” I said. “That’s not a bad idea. But once again we have to work out all the pitfalls that get other people thrown in jail. First off, we’d all have to wear surgical gloves. Not a single ridge of any of our fingerprints can be found on any of the bills.”

  “And it’ll be printed on regular copy paper,” Dad said. “Keep in mind, we’re not trying to make bills that’ll be good enough to pass close inspection, just good enough to get Tucker thrown in the slammer. Once he’s in there, facing decades behind bars, he’ll roll over on Carver.”

  I almost laughed. “Here’s another layer on the manure pile we’re planning for these two,” I said. “Suppose once we get Tucker arrested with the counterfeit, we leak it to him that Carver set him up and turned him in?”

  “And,” Gloria added, “We tell Carver that Tucker told the feds that Carver made the money himself. Those two stories working together should be enough to get those two at each other’s throats. But how do we get Carver to kill Tucker if Tucker’s in the lockup?”

  “See,” I said. “This is why we brainstorm, to work out all the glitches. So how can we tweak this scenario?”

  As we sat there trying to come up with a foolproof plan, my desk phone rang. I flinched in my chair and grabbed the receiver. “Cooper Investigations,” I said. “Elliott Cooper speaking.”

  “Elliott, it’s Dean.”

  “Dean.” I said. “I didn’t expect to hear from you for a while. Is something wrong?”

  “That’s why I’m calling,” Dean said. “Can we meet right away?”

  “Sure,” I said. “You want to come here to my office or should I come there?”

  “I’m in your neighborhood,” Dean said. “I can be there in a few minutes. Does that work for you?”

  “Perfectly,” I said. “See you then.” I hung up the phone and turned to my two partners.

  “Something’s up,” Dad said. “W
hat did Dean want?”

  “He wouldn’t say on the phone,” I said. “But he’s coming here in a little while. I guess we’ll find out then.”

  “Do you think Clay and I should be here when he gets here?” Gloria said. “After all, you’re the only one who’s supposed to know about this.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  Dad and Gloria got up from their chairs and turned for the door when it opened and Dean walked in. He immediately looked at Dad and said, “Clay, it’s good to see you. You’re looking well. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Dad said. “And you?”

  “Never better,” Dean said and then glanced at Gloria.

  “We were just on our way out,” Gloria said. “Clay offered to buy me coffee.”

  “No, don’t,” Dean said. “You both might as well stay for this, too.”

  I pulled up a couple of chairs and lined them up in front of my leather couch. Dad and Gloria sat on the couch while Dean and I took the chairs.

  “So, what was important enough to bring you here this morning?” I said.

  “You know that thing we talked about?” Dean said.

  I immediately glanced at Gloria and Dad and then back at Dean.

  Dean waved me off. “It doesn’t matter who knows now,” Dean said. “Besides, I already told Clay about this even before I told you.”

  “And Gloria knows,” I said.

  Dean gave me a look. “Hey,” I said. “I didn’t tell her. She figured it out by herself yesterday when we all ran into Carver at the Toyota dealership on Western.”

  Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Carver’s dead.”

  “What?” the three of us said, almost in unison. “What happened?” I said.

  “Hold on,” Dean said. “That’s only half of the good news. Tucker’s dead, too.” Dean had all he could do to keep from laughing out loud.

  “This is great news,” Dad said. “Come on, give with the details.”

  “Apparently Sally Feldman’s death had affected more people than just me,” Dean said. “Her father, Henry Feldman, must have been stewing about it ever since Carver’s acquittal. Turns out he was just biding his time waiting for an opening.”

  “An opening to what?” I said.

  “Feldman must have been stalking Carver and Tucker both since the trial,” Dean said. “This morning he found them both in the same place at the same time and exacted his own form of revenge. He waited for just the right moment and when he saw the two of them crossing the intersection of Sunset and Argyle he simply pulled away from the curb and ran them both down.”

  “Sunset and Argyle?” Dad said. “Tucker’s office if near there, isn’t it?”

  “That it is,” Dean said. “Feldman stopped as soon as he ran them down and just waited for the police to arrive on the scene. Then he told the investigating officer that his foot had slipped off the brake and onto the accelerator and he simply panicked.”

  “And the cop bought that?” Gloria said.

  “Without a second thought,” Dean said. “And that’s exactly what went into his report. The D.A. is not going to file any charges against Feldman for vehicular homicide, either. Feldman won’t even end up with a traffic ticket for his two-for-one job. Like I told you before, everyone at the twelfth precinct has had some sort of run-in with Carver at one time or another, and that slimy lawyer of his always managed to let him slip through the cracks of justice.”

  “And the D.A.?” I said.

  “When he saw the names of the victims,” Dean said, “he told the officers to just mark it down as an accident and let it go at that. Everyone’s satisfied and Feldman can go back to sleeping at night.”

  “So that’s it?” I said, gesturing toward my two partners. “We’re out of another job?”

  “Another job?” Dean said. “What was the first job?”

  Gloria briefly explained how her undercover job for Mrs. Rutherford had taken an unexpected turn for the worst and how she ended up not getting paid for her efforts.

  “And now this one didn’t pan out, either,” I said. “We’re all going to have to get paper routes to be able to pay our bills this month.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Dean said. “Lunch is on me. Come on, let’s eat.”

  The four of us headed out the door. On our way to the elevator, Dean said, “So, had you worked out a plan before I showed up?”

  We all stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other and then at Dean. “Nope,” I said. “We were just getting started.”

  51 - He Put The ‘Ick’ in Buick

  “Abbie,” the captain said through the intercom, “Would you tell Detective Hollister to come to my office right away?”

  “Yes, sir,” Abbie said, and clicked off the intercom. Abbie had been Lieutenant Dean Hollister’s personal secretary for many years. She walked the eight steps from her reception desk to Dean’s office and poked her head inside.

  “Lieutenant,” Abbie said, “The captain would like to see you in his office right away.”

  Hollister set the papers he’d been holding down on his desk and left his office. On his way past Abbie’s desk he looked at her and said, “I don’t know how long I’ll be tied up, so if Elliott Cooper calls, would you please take a message and tell him I’ll call him later?”

  “Yes, sir,” Abbie said.

  Dean stopped outside Captain Rogers’ office, straightened his tie and knocked.

  “Come in,” Rogers barked from behind his desk.

  Dean closed the door behind him and waited for Rogers to invite him to sit. Rogers gestured toward a chair and Dean made himself comfortable.

  Captain Rogers cleared his throat and said, “Lieutenant, I have a bit of a situation and I could use your help.”

  This was not Rogers’ usual way of handing out assignments and it put Dean on edge. “Certainly, Captain,” Dean said. “What is it you need?”

  Roger’s leaned in toward Dean and lowered his voice. “It’s a friend of mine, Mary Stoltz” he said. “She tells me her daughter, Sandy has not come home from school yet and she’s worried.”

  Dean glanced up at the wall clock above Rogers’ head. It was six-thirty. He glanced back down at the captain.

  “I know,” Rogers said. “It’s only been three hours since the girl should have been home, but Mary tells me that her daughter has never been this late before and she’s worried. I told her we’d look into it, but it’s not really an official missing persons case for another twenty-one hours. What I’d like you to do is go and see Mary and find out what you can about her daughter. Maybe you could cruise the neighborhood and see if you can find her. Chances are she’s off seeing a boyfriend or shopping or something else that the mother had not anticipated. I just want to put her mind at ease. She’s a very good friend and she’s counting on us.”

  Dean nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “I’ll get on it right away and let you know what I find.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Rogers said as Dean rose from the chair and left the office.

  Dean stopped back at his office briefly to let Abbie know he’d be out for an indeterminate amount of time, doing a job for the captain. Abbie assured him that she’d take care of things while he was out. Dean signed one of the cars out of the garage and drove over to the Stoltz house near the corner of Lexington and Gower. Dean stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell. He could hear footsteps inside, coming closer. The door opened and a woman peered out at him.

  “Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  “Mary Stoltz?” Dean said.

  “I’m Mary Stoltz,” the woman confirmed.

  “Mrs. Stoltz, my name is Lieutenant Dean Hollister,” Dean said. “Captain Rogers asked me to look into your daughter’s whereabouts. May I come in?”

  Mary Stoltz opened her door wide and allowed Dean to step inside. “Please,” she said, “Come in and have a seat.” She pointed to the front room sofa. “Would you like coffee?”

 
Dean waved her off. “No thank you, Mrs. Stoltz,” he said. “Time is important here and the sooner I get the information I need, the sooner I can start looking for Sandy. It’s Sandy, isn’t it?”

  Mary nodded. “She’s almost four hours late getting home from school and she’s always been on time in the past.”

  “Does she have a steady boyfriend?” Dean said. “Or maybe one boy that she sees regularly? That’s usually the first place we check in situations like these.”

  “No,” Mary said, shaking her head. “Sandy has been on a few dates, but there’s no one special in her life at the moment.”

  “What about her girlfriends?” Dean said. “Might she be at another girl’s house? She might have simply lost track of time. It happens.”

  “I’ve already called all of her friends that I know about,” Mary said. “None of them has seen her since school let out, either. I tell you, I’m a nervous wreck.”

  “Just try to stay calm and focused, Mrs. Stoltz,” Dean said. “While we’re out looking for her she may call or return and you’ll need to be here for her.”

  Mary Stoltz stood and paced back and forth in front of the couch. She stopped pacing and fixed her gaze out the window behind me.

  “What is it, Mrs. Stoltz?” Dean said.

  Mary ran for the kitchen door and flung it open, pulling Sandy Stoltz in and hugging her. They held the embrace for ten or twelve seconds before Mary released her. “Where have you been?” Mary almost shouted.

  Sandy Stoltz looked like she was about to explain her absence when she saw Dean sitting on the couch and cowered behind her mother.

  Dean stood and walked over to the woman and her daughter. Mary pulled Sandy out from behind her and said, “Sandy, this is Lieutenant Hollister. When you didn’t come home, I got worried and I called the police. He came here to try to find out what happened to you.”

  Sandy broke down and cried, hugging her mother and holding on tightly. Mary pried her daughter off her and held her shoulders. “What’s the matter, Sandy?” Mary said. Sandy looked at Dean again and hesitated. “It’s okay,” Mary told her. “You can tell us.”