Fulton’s neighbor hung onto the handle of the coaster wagon, making sure it didn’t move while Fulton grabbed the top of the box and lowered it by himself onto the edge of the wagon. Then he went around to the back or of the box and lifted it up onto the wagon, sliding it further on as he did. Then he traded places with the woman, who held her hands on top of the box while Fulton took the handle of the wagon and pulled the huge box up his slightly inclined driveway and back toward the garage.
Once he was no longer in my viewfinder, I stopped recording and turned to Gloria. “Got him,” I said. “That should do it. Let’s get back to Crawford and tell him what we have.”
“Can we get some lunch first?” Gloria said.
“Sure,” I said. “Any place in particular?”
“We haven’t been to Oscar’s in a while,” she said. “I always liked their pizza and pasta.”
“Works for me,” I said and headed in that direction. “What made you think of Oscar’s?” I said.
“Because it was on last night,” Gloria explained.
“This pizza place had a commercial on television last night?” I said.
“No,” Gloria said. “The Oscars were on last night. Didn’t you watch it?”
“As much of a movie fan as I am,” I said, “I just can’t stand watching the Oscar presentations.”
“Why not?” Gloria said.
“Because what should be a one-hour show is always stretched out to three and a half hours,” I said. “They waste so much time with dance numbers and retrospectives that almost no one cares about. I swear they throw in all that extra crap so they can sell more commercials in between. I’ll bet if you edited out all the non-essential stuff from the Oscars, you could actually get it all covered in thirty minutes or less.”
“Can’t sell many commercials in thirty minutes,” Gloria said. “And I would imagine it costs quite a lot to produce a show like that.”
“A thirty minute show wouldn’t cost much,” I explained. “Here’s how I’d do it, if I had the final say. I’d announce the five semi-finalists for best picture, rip the envelope open and blurt out the name of the movie. I’d limit the number of people who could come up on stage to one—the producer. He’d get ten seconds to thanks whomever he thinks needs mass approval and then get out the ol’ shepherd’s hook and drag his ass off stage if he goes over the ten second mark.”
“Oh yeah,” Gloria said. “There’s a show I’d want to watch. Sounds like a regular Oscar show that you’d watch in the fast-forward mode.”
“Precisely,” I said. “And what’s more, I’d eliminate all those obscure categories like ‘Best original adaptation of a second-hand screenplay by a first-time recovering junkie writing on a 1959 Underwood portable typewriter with just one hand.’ And is it necessary to include a category for best caterer for an on-location film?”
“You’re making that up now,” Gloria said. “They don’t have a category like that.”
“Maybe not,” I said, “but they have so many obscure categories that no one cares about so why include them? And there should be no more awards for foreign films or any film with sub-titles. Let those countries put on their own awards show.”
“I can see you’d never make it as a show business producer,” Gloria said.
“I would if the typical audience member wasn’t some brain-dead, shallow, superficial zombie,” I said. “I mean really, who cares what the actresses are wearing to the event? All the guys have the same black and white tuxedo on and no one stops them on their way in to ask where they rented it. See, that’s why guys are and will always be more practical and women will always be more emotional about everything. When the show’s over, guys return the tux to the rental shop and get their deposit back. Women have to buy those over-priced, over-glittered, under-wired monstrosities and they’re stuck with them when the show’s over. And heaven forbid they be seen anywhere a second time in that same dress. Oh no.”
“Are you about done?” Gloria said. “Do you have to be so negative about everything?”
“Only when I see something that doesn’t make common sense or is totally impractical,” I said. “But then that’s just me...and most other guys as well.”
“You know what?” Gloria said. “How about we skip Oscar’s pizza and pasta and just hit the drive-thru at Mickey Dee’s? That’s more your speed anyway. And it’s far more practical than a sit-down lunch in a place with a little atmosphere.”
“See?” I said. “You’re starting to think like a logical man already. Good going, Gloria. I’m proud of you.”
“Put a sock in it, Elliott,” Gloria said.
I could tell by the look in her eye that I’d better quit while I was ahead. I drove to Oscar’s pizza and pasta anyway to keep the peace between us. We managed to get through lunch without any further discussion about the Oscars and that was just fine with me. I switched the topic of conversation to our client.
“Mr. Crawford’s going to be pleased with our findings,” I said. “You must have really convinced Fulton that this was his lucky day. You’re quite the little actress, Mrs. Cooper.”
Gloria faked a smile and nodded. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said.
“And is it working?” I said.
“That all depends on whether or not you’ve learned anything from this last half hour,” Gloria said.
“I think I have,” I said.
“And what’s that?” Gloria said.
I paused, took a deep breath and said, “That if I have any negative opinions about some subject that it would be best to keep them to myself? Is that about what you were thinking?”
“Pretty much,” Gloria said. “I’m not saying you can’t have a negative opinion about everything. But if you know it’s something I like, that would be the time to hold your tongue, okay?”
“I think I can manage that,” I said. “Does the same hold true for you?”
“What do you mean, Elliott?” Gloria said.
“Well,” I said, “for example, when you read the paper or watch the news on TV and you hear about another bonehead play the president made or something stupid that he did, could you please keep that to yourself as well?”
Gloria stopped chewing and stared at me. She held up one finger, took a drink from her glass, swallowed and cleared her throat. “But he makes so many of them,” she said. “I’d make positive comments if just once the guy did something that made sense.”
“Point well taken,” I said, “but those are also negative comments and I’m not too thrilled to be within earshot when the mood hits you.”
“That bad?” Gloria said.
I nodded. “Looks like we’ll both have to rein ourselves in from time to time,” I said. “Deal?” I stuck my hand out toward her.
“Deal,” Gloria said, grabbing my hand and pumping it once before releasing it. “Now let’s finish our lunch and go see Mr. Crawford.”
We left the restaurant and drove back to the office. Gloria gave me an odd look as I pulled into the lot behind our building.
“What are we doing here?” she said. “I thought we were going to see Crawford and give him the good news.”
“Tomorrow morning will be soon enough,” I said. “Make him feel like he’s getting his money’s worth. If we wrap this whole thing up in one day and hand it to him he could start to get the idea that the job was too easy and that he might have been able to handle it himself.”
“So what?” Gloria said. “He signed a contract with us for our services. Either way he has to pay us.”
“But I’d like him to feel good about our services even after he leaves,” I said.
“And two day’s pay is better than one, isn’t it?” Gloria said.
“There’s that, too,” I said. “You know, we should revise out contracts to include a minimum charge for our services to cover the easy jobs that can be finished in a day or less.”
“I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow,” Gloria said, “but for tod
ay, how about if we go see Crawford and give him the evidence that he needs to fight that loser in court?”
“All right,” I said, not wanting to start another argument.” I pulled back out of our lot and drove east on the boulevard. I took Vine Street south to Romaine and turned west. Crawford’s house was just a few blocks away and we were lucky enough to catch him at home. I parked the van in front of the white single-story house with the red trim. I retrieved my laptop from the back of the van, pulled the miniature card from my video camera and inserted it into the slot on the side of the laptop. I carried it with me as Gloria and I approached the front door.
Kevin Crawford must have been watching out the front window when we pulled up because the front door opened before I had time to ring the bell. Crawford was already smiling when he saw us.
“Did you get it already?” he said anxiously.
I held the laptop out in front of me. “I think we did,” I said. “Did you want to take a look at what we got?”
“You bet,” Crawford said. “Come on in and have a seat. Would either of you like something to drink?”
“No thanks,” I said. “We just came from a late lunch. Thanks anyway.”
Crawford directed us to his couch, where an oblong coffee table separated the couch from two easy chairs. Gloria and I sat on the couch and Crawford took one of the chairs across from us. I turned on the laptop, found the video file and started it playing, turning the laptop so Crawford could see the video.
“Right there,” I said, pointing to the screen. “There’s a full-size refrigerator inside that box and from what I can see, he’s not having any trouble getting it up onto that wagon.”
When the video ended, I looked up at Crawford. He clapped his hands together and was rubbing them, like a fly about to taste a sugar crystal. He let out a deep breath and settled back into his chair. “I think I’ll be able to sleep through the night for the first time in weeks,” Crawford said. “Thank you both so much.”
I looked at Crawford. “Mr. Crawford,” I said. “Would you happen to have a laptop or desktop computer where I could transfer this file? I’d let you keep the card, but it’s my only one and I won’t be able to replace it until tomorrow.”
Crawford held his hand out and I gave him the camera card. Crawford dropped the card into his pants pocket and then pulled his wallet out from his back pocket, pried it open, withdrew three hundred dollar bills and handed them to me. “This should cover you fee and the camera card.”
Gloria looked at the three hundred dollars Crawford had just paid me and then looked at Crawford. “Mr. Crawford,” she said, “our contract was for two hundred dollars a day plus expenses. We managed to get what you needed in less than a day and that camera card can be replaced for fifteen dollars. I don’t think we can make change.”
“I wasn’t expecting any change,” Crawford said. “Consider what’s left over as a bonus for a job well done. And thanks again to both of you. You probably saved me a bundle.” He guided us toward the front door in what I recognized as a move called the Gurkey Shuffle.
I looked at Gloria and she knew exactly what I was thinking, since I’d explained the Gurkey Shuffle to her soon after we’d met. Years ago I’d known a guy named Bob Gurkey and he had managed to weasel his way into our house with some slick sales pitch. It took me almost ten minutes to convince the pesky salesman that I wasn’t interested in what he was peddling. All the while I was telling him no, I was also easing him toward the front door. Once I got him out onto the porch, I closed the door and the pest finally took the hint and left. That, as they say, became known as The Gurkey Shuffle and that’s just what Crawford was doing to us.
When the front door closed, Gloria and I looked at each other and then down at the three hundred dollar bills in my hand. Our eyes met again and we both broke out laughing. We were still laughing when we got back into the van and drove away.
“You see, Gloria,” I said. “We managed to come out ahead anyway without padding the bill another day.”
“Now we can go back to the office,” Gloria said.
I held up a finger. “But first I want to stop at the camera store and pick up another memory card,” I said. “And for the fifteen dollars you quoted him, I can buy three camera cards. Now who’s padding?”
“All right,” Gloria said. “I get the point. Looks like we’re both guilty of a little padding.”
I drove to the camera store, picked out two memory cards and paid the clerk with one of the hundred dollar bills. When I got back into the van, I gave one of the memory cards to Gloria. “Keep that one in a safe place for a spare,” I said, and handed her the change from my purchase.
“What’s this for?” Gloria said, counting out nearly ninety dollars.
“That’s a bonus,” I said and gave her a genuine smile.
Gloria leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“What was that for?” I said.
“That’s a bonus,” Gloria said, folding the bills and tucking them in the pocket of her jeans.
We got back to the office and saw the red light blinking on our answering machine. Gloria set her purse on her desk and walked over to my desk to hit the Play button.
“Mr. Cooper,” the familiar voice said. “This is Melinda Cameron at Family Tree Services. I just wanted to keep you abreast of my latest findings. I still have a way to go yet, but I managed to add one more layer to your family tree. You don’t have to call back. I just wanted to let you know that I’m making some progress. Thank you.” The dial tone sounded and Gloria hit the Erase button. There were no other messages.
“And the Cooper family tree grows another branch,” I said. “I wonder who she found.”
“Let’s not bother her yet,” Gloria said. “Give her time to develop a few more leads and add a couple more branches before you call her.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “It’s just that I’m getting kind of antsy to see the results.”
“I know,” Gloria said. “I would be, too.”
The office door opened and Lieutenant Eric Anderson walked in. “Sitting around again, eh?” he said. “Some people have it dead easy.”
“Look who’s talking,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be out checking parking meters?”
“Touché,” Eric said. “I must have just caught you both during one of your lulls. If I remember correctly, your last lull lasted four days.”
“Okay,” I said, “so the P.I. business isn’t as fast-paced as the L.A.P.D. Our clientele is better behaved that yours. What can I say?”
Gloria took the seat behind her desk and then looked up at Eric. “Really, Eric,” she said, “what brings you slumming in our neighborhood this fine afternoon?”
Eric turned and started for the door. “Well, I was going to throw a little work your way,” he said, “but if you’d rather continue with your leg dangling and fly catching, I guess I’ll leave you to it.” He let himself out again and closed the door. Three seconds later he re-entered the office. “Okay,” Eric said, “let’s try this again. I’ll start over. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. How are you both doing? Lovely day we’re having, isn’t it?”
“All right,” I said, “you made your point. Have a seat, Eric and tell us what’s on your mind.”
Eric passed up the chair and instead stood by the window, looking down on Hollywood Boulevard. “The work I had in mind for you two is not exactly police work,” Eric said. “In fact, it would be better if no one in the department knew I’d been here. This is personal.”
I sat up straight in my chair and gave Eric my full attention. Gloria got up and came over to where I was sitting and stood next to me, looking at Eric.
“I’d like you both to discreetly look into someone’s daily routine for me,” Eric said. “I don’t want you to approach them or speak to them, or take any pictures. I don’t want anything that could spook this person and tip them that they’re being watched.”
“You just want them followed?” Gloria said. “W
e can do that.”
“This person can’t even suspect that they’re being followed,” Eric said. “It’s very important to me.”
“We can do that,” I said. “Who’s the target?”
Eric hesitated and then looked out the window again, answering me without looking at me. “My brother,” Eric said. “Neither of you have ever met him and he doesn’t know either of you by sight, so you two would be the perfect candidates for the job. Are you interested?”
“Can you tell us why?” I said. “I mean, what are we supposed to be looking for? How long are we supposed to maintain surveillance?”
“Not yet,” Eric said. “For now all I need is a professional tail job and a description of where he goes and what he does. An hour or two should do it. You’ll have to trust me on this for now.”
Gloria and I exchanged a brief glance. I nodded at her and then looked back toward Eric. “We’ll do it, Eric,” I said. “When can we start and where do we find him? Do you have a photo we could borrow? The more you can tell us about him, the easier this will be for everyone.”
Eric reached into his shirt pocket and plucked out a three-by-five portrait of a man and laid it in front of me. “His name is Ernie.”
I looked at the photo, showed it to Gloria and then looked up at Eric. “This is a joke, right? I mean, why give me a picture of yourself, unless you have a...”
“A twin,” Eric said. “That’s right, I’m a twin. I never told anyone about Ernie. I guess you could say he’s the black sheep of the Anderson clan. As Rodney Dangerfield might have said, ‘You look up my family tree and I’m the sap’. Well, Ernie is the sap on our family tree. I haven’t seen him in a few years and suddenly he showed up in town again yesterday.”
Gloria took the photo from me and studied it a little closer. “And why is it so important that you know what he’s up to?”
“Because if he’s up to no good,” Eric said, “I need to know before he gets tangled up with the law. What I don’t need is anyone at the twelfth precinct even knowing he exists, let alone catching him red-handed at anything in my jurisdiction. Not only would I never hear the end of it, it also would not be good for furthering my career. See?”
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 288