The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories)

by Bernico, Bill

  I was sixty-two and had slowed down considerably. Elliott had been glad to take on the bulk of the responsibility and to let me coast, so to speak. He figured that I had earned it and in these past five months Gloria and he had managed to keep the business going and even show a decent profit at the end of the year. We knew, however, from the last time that we had kept Gloria on after I returned that Cooper Investigations couldn’t support three employees and that Gloria would have to step down when I returned.

  It was a crisp, cool April morning when Elliott walked into our building and took the elevator to the third floor. Today he was thirty minutes early. He had a few things to catch up on before Gloria was supposed to come in. It was his quiet time, a time to reflect and peacefully go over some records that he’d been neglecting. He opened the outer office door and stepped inside. We never lock that door, in case potential clients wanted to wait for any of us while we’re out of the office.

  Elliott unlocked the inner office door and was just dropping his keys back into his pocket when a heavy hand clamped down on his right shoulder and spun him around. Elliott was looking at two large men, both of whom were wearing black ski masks. The one who had grabbed his shoulder made an exaggerated motion of straightening Elliott’s tie with his left hand. When Elliott’s eyes went to the man’s left hand, the right hand jabbed Elliott’s stomach with enough force to crack walnuts. The breath came out of him all at once and he struggled to take in replacement air. Elliott sank to his knees, gasping for air.

  “Mr. Cooper,” the first man said. “I hope this will be the only time we have to visit you. I don’t want to have to come back here and give you another dose of this.” His clenched fist hit Elliott on the side of his head and he flopped over like a fish out of water. His vision was blurry and his ears were ringing, but he still managed to remain conscious.

  The man knelt next to Elliott and wrapped his fist around Elliott’s lapels and lifted Elliott’s face to his. “Get off the Griffith case and forget you ever met him,” he said, his hot breath nearly scorching Elliott’s nose hairs. “Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Cooper?” He released Elliott’s lapels and let him drop to the floor again.”

  “But I…” Elliott started to say, when the man’s partner stepped up and kicked Elliott in the ribs.

  “Off the Griffith case,” the second man echoed, “Or next time we won’t be so gentle.” His second kick cracked something and Elliott rolled over, blood oozing from his left ear.

  Without further comment the two men turned and walked out of the outer office and down the hall. Elliott didn’t even try to get up. He let darkness engulf him.

  When he was able to open his eyes again, the first thing Elliott saw was Gloria kneeling over him. Next to her he could make out the outline of a dark blue suit and an unrecognizable face. He thought he heard Gloria call the other man Dr. Hackett.

  “The ambulance is on its way,” Hackett said to Gloria.

  Elliott thought he heard Gloria’s voice quivering. “Is he going to be all right, Doctor,” she said.

  “I’ll know more when we get him to the hospital and I can run some more tests on him,” the doctor said. “I don’t want to move him any more until the ambulance gets here and we can stabilize his neck in a brace.”

  Gloria’s hand ran over Elliott’s forehead and smoothed his hair back. “Just lie still,” she said. “You’re going to be all right.” She didn’t know that for sure, but wanted to believe it. “Did you recognize the guy who did this to you, Elliott?”

  “Guys,” Elliott whispered. “There were two of them. They were both wearing ski masks. They told me to get off the Griffith case. I don’t know anyone named Griffith.”

  Gloria bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry, Elliott,” she said. “I was going to tell you about it this morning. I took a call last night after you’d already left for the night. Leo Griffith is the guy who hired us.”

  Elliott tried to lift his head, but Dr. Hackett made him lie flat again. “Don’t try to move,” Hackett said. “We can’t risk possible permanent damage.”

  I was walking toward the elevator when I saw two ambulance attendants with a rolling gurney inside it. I yelled for them to hold the elevator and stepped inside just before the doors closed. “What’s up, guys?” I said. “Picking up some business in the building?”

  The attendant closest to me nodded. “Yup,” he said. “Some guy on the third floor. That’s all I know.”

  “Hmmm,” I said. “I’m going to the third floor. I guess I can see for myself.”

  The car stopped and I let the two attendants get off first. They turned left and so did I. When they kept going, I started to panic, and when they turned into my office, I lost it. “Elliott,” I yelled. “Gloria. What’s going on here?”

  I hurried in behind the attendants and immediately saw Elliott lying on the floor in the outer office. His face was bruised and bloody. Gloria ran up to me and buried her head in my chest. “Clay,” she said, “it’s all my fault.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “Two guys jumped Elliott this morning and did this to him,” she said.

  “Why?” I said.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Gloria said. “They mentioned something about getting off the Griffith case and then just beat Elliott senseless.”

  “So why is that your fault?” I said.

  “I spoke to a Mr. Griffith last night on the phone,” Gloria said. “And then he stopped in here and I agreed to take him on as a client. Elliott didn’t even know anything about it.”

  I was having trouble concentrating on what Gloria was telling me. I turned to the doctor. “How is he, doctor?” I said. “Is he going to be all right?”

  The doctor started and IV and hung the bottle from the metal arm sticking up from the gurney. “Like I told this young lady,” he said, “I’ll know more when I get him to the hospital and take some x-rays. Now if you will excuse me.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, and followed the gurney back toward the elevator. I turned back to Gloria and said, “Lock up the office and come with me to the hospital.”

  Gloria locked the office door and followed us to the elevator. She turned to me and said, “I’m riding in the ambulance with Elliott. Can you drive there in your car?”

  I agreed that I would and when the elevator doors opened again, I hurried out the back door to the parking lot while Gloria stayed with the gurney and rode with Elliott to the hospital. Elliott was wheeled into the emergency room and placed on the examining table. Nurses cut away his jeans and shirt, exposing more bruises on his arms and legs. Dr. Hackett touched Elliott’s ribcage, causing Elliott to cry out.

  The doctor turned to his nurse and instructed her to get his patient in for x-rays immediately. He also told Gloria and me to wait outside while they checked Elliott over for any possible internal damage. Gloria and I retreated to the waiting room and sat on the fabric-covered chairs facing each other.

  “Tell me again about the client who wanted to hire you and Elliott,” I said.

  Gloria ran her fingers through her hair and grabbed onto her head, trying to recall the wording of the phone call she’d gotten last night. “Elliott had gone home shortly after six o’clock,” Gloria said. “I was just about finished entering the last of our records into the database when the phone rang. It was a man named Leo Griffith who said he needed our services and wanted to come right over. I told him we were just about ready to close up the office for the day and asked if we could talk with him first thing in the morning. He said it was really important that he speak to us right away.”

  “And what did you tell him?” I said.

  “I told him I’d be in the office for another ten minutes,” Gloria said. “And that if he could get here before then, that I’d take down the preliminary information and discuss it with Elliott when he came in the next morning.”

  “And Griffith came in?” I asked.

  “He was there in less than two min
utes,” Gloria said. “He was probably waiting outside in the parking lot when he called. Anyway, I let him in and told him that I’d give him five minutes to lay out what he expected us to do for him. He told me that he owed a man some money and that man had sent two thugs after him to collect.”

  “A loan shark?” I said.

  “I don’t know,” Gloria said. “He wouldn’t say what the debt was for. He just wanted us to help get him out of town, somewhere safe.”

  “Couldn’t he have just called a taxi?” I said. “There’s always the bus, train, plane, car, you name it. He doesn’t need two private eyes to help him leave town, does he?”

  Gloria shrugged. “Beats me,” she said. “But he seemed genuinely scared. I asked him why he hadn’t just gone to the police with this.”

  “And?”

  “And he said they the two men originally told him that they had people inside the department,” she said. “And that they’d know if he talked.”

  “You think that’s true?” I said.

  “Who knows?” Gloria said. “The point is that he believed it and where else is he supposed to turn? He grabbed one of Elliott’s cards from his desk and stuffed it in his pocket before he left.”

  Thirty-five minutes had passed before Dr. Hackett came out to the waiting room. We stood to meet him in the hallway.

  “How is he, doctor?” I said.

  “He has two broken ribs and a concussion,” Dr. Hackett said. “The other bruises and cuts are all superficial. He’ll need a week or more to convalesce, but he should be fine after that. See to it that he doesn’t move around too much. Broken ribs are tricky. All we can do is tape them up and let them mend. That’s why it’s important that he refrain from physical activity during that whole week.”

  “Can we see him?” I said.

  “Briefly,” the doctor said. “He’ll need plenty of rest, so don’t stay too long.”

  I shook the doctor’s hand and thanked him. He walked back toward the emergency room and disappeared behind two swing doors. Gloria sighed and hugged me.

  “Thank goodness,” she said.

  I walked back to the nurse’s station and asked which room they’d taken Elliott to and she directed me down the hall to room 213 on the right. When we opened the door, Elliott was stretched out flat on his back with a tube running from a bottle of liquid to a needle stuck in the top of his hand. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. Gloria and I stepped up to his bed and she held his hand. Elliott opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Gloria. Then he saw me and faintly nodded.

  “Dad,” he said to me.

  “How are you feeling, Elliott?” I said.

  His voice was faint but he managed, “I’ve been better.” He licked his lips and looked at Gloria. “Can I get a drink of water?”

  Gloria poured a small glass of water from a pitcher on his bedside table and stuck a straw into the glass. She held the glass near his chin and Elliott sipped. Gloria pulled the glass away again and set it back on the table. Elliott let out a deep breath and then tried to breathe in again. He winced at the pain and stopped trying to breathe so deeply. He looked at Gloria again.

  “Who were those guys?” Elliott said. “And what did I do to piss them off?”

  “It wasn’t you,” Gloria said. “They just didn’t want either of us trying to help Leo Griffith.”

  “Who?” Elliott said.

  “Leo Griffith,” I said. “Apparently this Leo Griffith owed them some money and was trying to skip out on them and he expected you to help him get out of town.”

  “And what’s wrong with a taxi?” Elliott said.

  “That’s just what I said,” I told him. “I think they must have seen him going into your building the night before and just came back the next morning when they couldn’t find him. From the beating they gave you, I think it’s a safe assumption that they don’t want anyone helping him ducking out on his debt.”

  “They don’t have to worry about that.” Elliott said. “I don’t want anything to do with Griffith or his playmates.”

  “Good choice,” I told him. “We don’t need the business bad enough to risk our lives over it.”

  “We?” Elliott said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Gloria and me, and you.”

  “You’re back?” Elliott said.

  “I wasn’t due to return for another week or so,” I said. “But I feel fine and with you laid up, Gloria’s going to need me. And to tell you the truth, if I had to spend one more day playing canasta with Mrs. Chandler, I’d eat my gun.”

  Gloria gave me a strange look.

  “Okay,” I said. “So I wouldn’t really eat my gun, but I might just jump out my window.”

  “Your house is a single story ranch,” Gloria reminded him.

  “Oh yeah,” I said.

  Elliott winced again as he lay there trying to breathe shallow breaths.

  I looked at Gloria. “We’d better get going. Elliott needs his rest.” I looked down at my son, my anger building up against the two thugs who’d done this to him. “We’ll come back and visit you again tomorrow. Try to get some rest.”

  Gloria and I turned and left the room, walking down the hallway toward the exit.

  “So that’s it?” Gloria said. “We’re going to just steer clear of this one?”

  “Not on your life,” I said. “I’m going to get those bastards.”

  “You mean we’re going to get them,” Gloria said.

  We climbed into my car and I headed directly for the twelfth precinct. Dean was in a meeting but his secretary assured us that he was just finishing up and that he’d be out in just a few minutes. Gloria and I waited on a leather and chrome sofa in a reception area near his office.

  “What about those thugs’ claim that they had someone inside the department?” Gloria said.

  “It’s an easy claim to make and harder to prove,” I said. “I know for a fact that Dean isn’t in anyone’s hip pocket. We have to at least tell him what we know. At least it’ll give him a heads up in case someone in the department has turned rotten.”

  Five minutes later a set of double doors opened and a dozen uniformed officers filed out and disbursed to different areas in the building. Dean was the last one out of the room. He was looking down at a form in his hand and kept walking. He looked up when he passed us and stopped, surprised to see me. He smiled and held his hand out.

  “Clay,” he said cheerfully, “How are you doing?” He nodded at Gloria. “Gloria, always good to see you, too.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure,” Dean said, the smile dropping from his face. “What’s wrong?”

  Dean led us into his office and invited us to sit. He took a seat behind his desk and looked at my face again. “Is everything all right?”

  I shook my head. “It’s Elliott,” I said. “Two men worked him over this morning. He’s in the hospital.”

  Dean sat straight up in his chair. “Is he going to be all right?” he said, genuinely concerned.

  “He’s got a concussion and two broken ribs,” I told him, “But the doctor says he should make a full recovery in a week or so.”

  Dean let out a deep breath. “Well, thank goodness for that, anyway. Tell me what happened?”

  I told Dean the story that Gloria had relayed to me. She added a few details to what I said and when we’d finished Dean shook his head in disbelief.

  “And they told this Griffith fellow that they had someone inside the department?” Dean said.

  “That what Griffith told Gloria,” I said.

  Gloria leaned in closer to Dean. “Is that possible?” she said. “Could they really have someone working here in the police department?”

  “I don’t know,” Dean said. “But if there’s even a chance of that, I’ll find him and toss his sorry ass in jail with the general population. I’ll take care of that end, but what about finding the two thugs who worked Elliott over?”

  “Like I told you,�
�� I said. “They were both wearing ski masks, so identifying them is going to be difficult to say the least. I want to wait until Elliott’s stronger and has had a day or two to rest before I question him again.”

  “You think he knows more that he thinks he knows?” Dean said.

  “He’s a trained observer,” I said. “Like me and my dad. If there was anything about these two guys that could help shed some light on their identity, he’ll have it in his subconscious.”

  “Where’s Leo Griffith?” Dean said. “He’s bound to know more than he told Gloria.”

  “That’s where we’re going to start,” I told Dean. “I want to talk to this guy myself.”

  “Keep me in the loop on this one, all right?” Dean said.

  “That’s a given,” I said and left with Gloria.

  As we drove out of the precinct parking lot, I asked Gloria to grab the Hollywood phone book that I kept in the seat pocket behind her seat. Once she had it in her lap I asked her to see if Griffith was listed in there. She flipped through the pages, slowing down in the G section. There were twenty-nine Griffith entries in the phone book, including Griffith Park Observatory and Griffith Mortuary. Of the remaining twenty-seven entries, only three began with L. There was a Lorraine Griffith on Pico Boulevard, an L. Griffith on Los Feliz and a Lance Griffith in North Hollywood but no Leo Griffith.

  “Maybe he lives in another area,” Gloria said, “like Pasadena or even Santa Barbara, but probably someplace in the general vicinity.”

  “And what you told me earlier,” I said. “That was all he gave you on the phone and in the office?”

  “That’s it,” Gloria said. “Now what do we do?”

  “Give me the number for the Los Angeles Times circulation department,” I said.

  Gloria found the number and kept her finger on it. I handed her my cell phone and told her to call it and tell whoever answered that you just moved and you wanted to make sure they have your current address. Have them read it back to you.”

  “Why?” Gloria said. “I haven’t moved recently and I already know where I live.”

  “No you don’t, Mrs. Griffith,” I said.