The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories)

by Bernico, Bill

  I played a hunch. “Try Margaret Holden,” I said.

  Delbert gave me a strange look and then typed in the name. “Got a hit,” he said, sounding surprised. He wrote the name and address on another piece of paper and slid it over to me.

  “Thanks a lot, Delbert,” I said. “Say, do people call you Del?”

  “Almost nobody,” Delbert said. “Most people call me Delbert.”

  “Well,” I said. “My name’s Elliott. Would you mind if I called you Del?”

  Del’s stone face softened and I thought I saw the edges of a smile. “Sure,” he said.

  “Well, it was great to meet you, Del,” I said. “You’ll probably be seeing more of us in the future. It’s good to know we have a contact here at City Hall.”

  Now Del was smiling broadly, apparently glad to have made a real connection with another human being, unlike all the robotic connections he had come across in this impersonal job.

  Back in the car I turned to Gloria. “Now that’s schmoozing,” I said. “Make a friend of the guy and you’ll have him in your pocket next time you need a favor.”

  “I got what I wanted out of him,” Gloria said.

  “You didn’t think it was a bit strange when he pulled his hand out from under yours?” I said.

  “I just figured he was the shy type,” Gloria said.

  “Hey,” I said, “Sometimes a look or a touch can be too much for some guys. Poor Delbert’s probably going to have to change his shorts now. You’re just lucky there wasn’t some old guy behind the counter. He might have had the big one, like Fred Sanford, if you’d touched him. You seem to have that effect on men.”

  Gloria got her back up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said.

  I held up both palms. “Easy, lady,” I said. “That was supposed to be a compliment. Why are you so sensitive about it?”

  Gloria eased up. “I’m not sensitive,” she said. “I just wasn’t aware a simple touch had that kind of effect on men.”

  “We are the sensitive half of the species, despite what they say about women,” I said. “Maybe women aren’t affected by a simple touch, but we guys, well, that’s another story entirely. You get our imaginations running wild with something like a simple touch. Doesn’t take much to set some of us off, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Gloria said. “I’ll try to control myself from now on.”

  “Well, you don’t have to go to extremes,” I said. “I can handle it, so don’t ease up with me.” That seemed to soothe her nervousness and she softened.

  “Can we get going?” she said.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I said.

  Gloria didn’t answer, but just held a hand up. When I looked over at her, her eyes had welled up and she turned away from me.

  I pulled up to the curb and put the car in Park. “What’s the problem?” I said.

  Gloria still wouldn’t face me.

  I laid my hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Gloria, you can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

  She turned toward me and buried her head in my chest and sobbed. I stroked her hair but couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t even know why she was upset, so how could I possibly say anything to fix it?

  Gloria opened the glove box and pulled out a tissue. She wiped her eyes and sat upright again. She tried her best to compose herself. “I’m fine now,” she said. “We’d better keep going if we’re going to find Jack.” She let out a deep breath and tucked the wet tissue into her pocket.

  “Are you sure?” I said. “This isn’t even a case for us. We don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “No,” Gloria said. “Let’s see this thing through. I’ll be all right. I just had to let it out, that’s all.”

  I pulled the shifter back down into Drive and pulled back into traffic. If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never be able to figure out women. Maybe Dad understood them. Maybe he could give me a little insight into their complex workings. I decided when this whole thing was over that I was going to set aside some time and have a meaningful talk with my dad.

  I took Sunset west past LaBrea to Fuller Avenue and then turned north. I picked up Runyon Canyon Road at the end of Fuller. It was a dirt road that wound around up into the mountains. A couple miles further north we found the address Delbert had written down for us. It turned out to be nothing more than a lot where an older Airstream trailer had been parked. The location was isolated from the rest of the houses in this area. I guess Jack Holden could find some refuge here from the hurried life in Hollywood.

  I pulled up next to the trailer and Gloria and I got out to take a closer look. The trailer was surrounded on three sides by scrub brush. If you didn’t know it was there, you could easily miss it. I was almost certain that it couldn’t have been seen from the air.

  I didn’t see any cars parked nearby. If Jack was up here, he either walked or got a lift from someone else. As I walked around the side of the trailer, I spotted a dirt bike. It was a 125cc model with knobby tires—perfect for this terrain. From the corner of my eye I thought I saw a curtain move. I walked back around to the front of the trailer and stepped up two steps and knocked on the door. I heard movement inside but nobody came to the door. I knocked again and a moment later the door opened and a tall man in shorts and a tee shirt stood looking down at Gloria and me.

  “Yeah?” he said. “What do you want?”

  “Jack Holden?” I said.

  “Who wants to know?” he said warily.

  “My name is Elliott Cooper,” I said. “And this is Gloria Campbell. We wanted to talk to you about Billy Gibson.” I handed him one of my cards. He tried to hand it back to me, but I didn’t take it.

  “Forget it,” Holden said. “You can tell that son-of-a-bitch that I’m not coming back. Now scram.”

  “Mr. Holden,” I said. “We just came from Beefcakes, Unlimited. The police are there with Mr. Gibson now.”

  “So what?” Holden said. “Whatever he did to bring the heat down on himself had nothing to do with me. So you can both just drive back down the mountain and tell him to find another sucker.”

  “I can’t tell him that,” I said.

  “And why not?” Holden said.

  “Because he’s dead,” Gloria said, glancing around me to get a look at Jack the Stripper in the flesh.

  “You’re not kidding me, are you?” Holden said.

  I shook my head. “Someone shot him,” I said. “And by the looks of it, it happened in the past few hours.”

  “Well,” Holden said, “I’ve been up here for the past three days. I haven’t left here in all that time.”

  “Could we maybe come inside?” I said. “It might be easier to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”

  Holden sighed and then held the door open for us. “Yeah,” he said. “Come on in.”

  He invited us to sit on a small two-position sofa while he pulled open his refrigerator door and looked back at us. “Do either of you want a beer?” he said.

  Gloria and I both waved him off, not because we weren’t thirsty, but because just being in this old trailer gave us the Willies and we were certain we’d need a shower when we got back to town. Holden took a beer for himself and popped the top before sitting in a chair next to us.

  “Mr. Holden,” I said. “Are you familiar with a woman named Margaret Lewis?”

  “Oh gees,” Holden said. “Is there no escaping that lunatic, even up here?”

  “Is she part of the reason for your leaving Beefcakes?” Gloria said.

  “Mostly,” Holden said. “Between her and Billy, I couldn’t get any peace and privacy. If he wasn’t bugging me to do more shows, she was stalking me like some nut case. I couldn’t shake the bitch. Every time I’d turn around, there she was.”

  “Mr. Holden,” I said.

  “You can just call me Jack,” Holden said. “Everyone else does.”

  “All right, Jack,” I continued. “Margaret originally wanted to hire Gloria and me and fin
d her missing husband—you.”

  “But I’m not…” Jack started to say.

  “I know,” I said. “We’ve since found out that there was a restraining order placed against Margaret Lewis and that she is not your wife.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” Jack said.

  Gloria looked at Jack and added, “We also found out that she had been escorted out of Beefcakes on several occasions for inappropriate behavior toward you and some of the other dancers. Elliott and I had decided not to hire ourselves out to Margaret, but we did get the same offer to find you from Mr. Gibson. When we went back to speak with him, we found him dead—shot once in the head. Since there was no one left to hire us, the case should have ended then and there, but Elliott and I wanted to at least find you and let you know what’s happened and to be on the lookout for this Lewis woman.”

  “You think she shot Billy?” Jack said.

  “We’re not sure at this point,” I said. “But if it was her, there’s a good chance that she may be coming after you next.”

  “She doesn’t know about this place,” Jack said. “And I want to keep it like that. She made such a pest of herself at my apartment back in Hollywood that I had to move.”

  “Well, Jack,” I said. “You may get a visit from a police lieutenant. I’m sure he’ll have a few questions of his own. But that’s all we came up here for, was to get some answers to our questions. We won’t bother you any further.”

  Gloria and I got up to leave. When Jack opened his front door for us, Margaret Lewis was standing there, holding a gun on him. She backed the three of us into the trailer and told us all to sit. We complied.

  Margaret pointed her .22 revolver at me. “You,” she barked. “Take you gun out nice and easy and toss it here. Just use your thumb and forefinger.”

  I plucked the .38 from my shoulder holster and tossed it on the carpet at her feet.

  She turned her gun on Gloria and told her to do the same. Gloria did as she was told. Margaret now trained her gun on Jack. “You took out a restraining order on me?” she said, her teeth gritting. “How can you do that to me after all I’ve meant to you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jack said. “I don’t even know you, except to see you in the club every night.”

  “But I love you,” Margaret said. “You had to know that.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Jack said. “You can’t just decide you want someone and expect them to feel the same way about you. It doesn’t work like that?”

  “Does it work like this?” Margaret said, and shot Jack once in the shoulder.

  Jack howled and grabbed the wound with his hand. Blood oozed out between his fingers. “What the hell’s wrong with you, lady?” he screamed.

  “Do I have your attention now, Jack?” Margaret said.

  “What do you want?” Jack said.

  “You,” Margaret said, and fired again, hitting Jack in almost the same spot, only this time the bullet passed through the hand that Jack was holding over his wound.

  Jack’s arm fell to his side, his hand now also bleeding. The fright seemed to drain out of Jack and was replaced by anger. He scowled at her now. “You crazy bitch,” he yelled. “You think you can make me love you just because you’re holding the gun. It’s never going to happen. Give it up.”

  “Never?” Margaret said, tears now running down her cheeks.

  “Never,” Jack said and braced himself when he saw Margaret pull the hammer back again.

  I sat there helpless, hoping she didn’t decide to take Gloria and me down in this rampage. She surprised all three of us and turned the gun on herself, pointing it at her temple. “I love you, Jack,” she said. “You have to know that.” Then she pulled the trigger and her head jerked to one side, splattering blood across Jack’s trailer wall.

  Gloria pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed 9-1-1. “We need an ambulance,” she told the operator, and gave her the address. “Send the police, too. We’ll stay right here until they arrive.” She snapped her phone closed again and stuck it back into her pocket.

  I retrieved my .38 and stuck it back under my arm. Gloria picked up her gun as well. I found a towel and wrapped it around Jack’s hand. I pressed another towel into the shoulder wound. Gloria and I laid Jack down on his couch. “It’s all over,” I told him. “Just lie still. An ambulance will be her shortly.”

  It took the ambulance fifteen minutes to find the trailer in this remote location. Dean’s cruiser pulled up behind it and the two sirens wound down as they stopped. I stepped out of the trailer and met Dean as he approached.

  “What happened here?” Dean said.

  “Margaret Lewis,” I said. “Gloria and I came up here to warn Jack about her and she showed up while we were talking with him. She was probably watching us and followed us up here. She took her anger and frustration out on him with a couple of shots and then killed herself.”

  “Senseless,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Just senseless.”

  The ambulance attendants took Jack out of the trailer on a stretcher and slid him into the back of their wagon. Dean leaned over the driver’s window. “Did you notify Andy Reynolds about this?” he said.

  The driver nodded. “He should be here any minute now,” he told Dean and then drove away, kicking up a cloud of dirt. The ambulance’s siren faded in the distance.

  Dean and I stepped up into the trailer. Dean studied the scene, trying to visualize the events of the last few minutes. I filled him in on how those events had unfolded. He pulled a notepad out and made a few preliminary notes before tucking it back into his pocket.

  Outside we heard another vehicle stopping in front of the trailer. It was Andy Reynolds, the county medical examiner with a wagon of his own. He stepped up into the trailer, took one look at the mess Margaret Lewis had made and shook his head. “Is she the victim?” Andy said, gesturing toward Margaret’s body.

  “In a way,” Dean said. “But no, she was the shooter. She was also her own last victim.”

  Andy could tell by looking at the woman that she was dead, but just to make it official, he knelt down and pressed two fingers into her neck. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find a pulse. He glanced at his watch, made a note of the official time of death and pronounced her dead.

  “Is she the only one?” Andy said.

  “There was another victim,” Dean told him. “He’s on his way to the hospital. I think he’ll make it.” He looked back down at the remains of Margaret Lewis. “Can you take her in your wagon?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Can you help me with the stretcher?”

  While Dean and Andy wrestled with the stretcher in this confined space, I took a cursory look around the inside of the trailer. I spotted a framed picture of Jack Holden, not in his stripper garb, but wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, leather work boots and a tool belt. Behind him was what looked like construction site. He looked happy. I wondered if he’d return to that trade when he recovered.

  And just to show how my twisted mind works, I also tried to imagine coroner Andy Reynolds as a stripper. If Billy Gibson had lived, I imagine he’d have given him a clever name like ‘The Body Snatcher’ and an appropriate costume to go with it.

  I’d seen enough and stepped outside. Andy was just closing the tailgate on his wagon. Dean was standing there talking to Gloria, who had come out earlier for some fresh air, if there is such a thing in Los Angeles.

  As I approached them, Gloria turned to me. “Promise me one thing, Elliott,” she said, gesturing toward Andy’s wagon.

  “What’s that?” I said.

  “If I ever get like that Margaret woman,” she said. “Just shoot me, will you?”

  I glanced at Dean. He was smirking and trying to hide it. When he’d composed himself again he turned to me. “Are you two going to follow me back to my office?” he said.

  “You go on ahead,” I told him. “Gloria and I will be along in a few minutes.”

  Another black and white pull
ed up behind Dean’s cruiser and two uniforms got out. Dean instructed them to secure the scene while he was gone. Then he got into his car and drove back down the mountain.

  I walked Gloria back to my car and we slowly drove back down towards Hollywood. “What makes a woman turn into a stalker?” I said.

  Gloria turned to me. “Why are you asking me?” she said. “Just because I’m a woman?”

  “That’s as good a reason as any,” I said. “I was just looking for a female perspective on this whole thing.”

  Gloria gave the question some thought. “She was probably lonely and insecure,” Gloria said. “She may have snapped at one point, or she may have always been like that and just managed to suppress it. We’ll never know for sure now.”

  “I guess not,” I said, and pulled back onto Fuller Avenue. It took me another twelve minutes to make it to the twelfth precinct. After Dean had taken our statements, I dropped Gloria back in the parking lot behind our building and told her I’d see her in the morning.

  I drove over to Dad’s house. It was time for that father and son talk.

  68 - Room For One Less

  It had been nearly five months since my second heart attack. My recovery had been remarkable and it looked like I might be able to come back to work within the next week to ten days. Of course, that meant that Gloria would have to step down as the temporary help that she knew she was when Elliott had called her to come in and fill my spot temporarily. Gloria had done this once before when I had had my first heart attack two years ago.

  Elliott had mixed feeling about the coming events. On the one hand, it would be good to be working with me again, but on the other hand, Gloria and he had become an item, so to speak, during her time back at Cooper Investigations. I imagined it would be a bit of an adjustment for Elliott without her there.

  My father, Matt Cooper, the founder of the private eye business that bore his name, had started Cooper Investigations in 1946, shortly after he had left the Los Angeles Police Department. I had joined him as a partner in 1971, and Elliott joined me in 2002, the year Dad died.