by Marja McGraw
“Do you think I should try to get John to meet me over there?” I asked. “Maybe she’ll talk more with him around.”
“Uh uh. I think she’ll dummy up if he’s there. She plays him like a fine-tuned fiddle, and she’ll try the pity party angle if he’s listening. Poor little me, being badgered by bad ol’ Pamela.”
“Actually, you could be right. I won’t be badgering her though. I don’t know if she even has any information. I have a feeling that her life was all about her and no one else. She may have been oblivious to what was going on with the boarders.”
Janet turned to face us. “I couldn’t help overhearing you two. If she was the landlord, she knows something. Trust me. It was a house, not a hotel. I’m sure she heard everything that went on in this place. The only question is, how good is her memory?”
“I think it’s better than she lets on,” Chris said.
“This case could come off the back burner now that we’ve found a second body. I hate to admit it, but we’re so short-staffed that I can still use your help. You two can do some of the leg work for me.” Janet’s eyes roved, moving from me and Chris to the tree, and to the hole in the ground. I could see that she was thinking, and her thoughts were probably jumbled. Too many things going on in her life would be my guess. High priority cases, cold case, and other cases taking precedence over the cold one – not to mention trying to juggle a dog and a boyfriend. And those were only the things I knew about.
“Can you just imagine the flack that’ll come down if I find a ninety-some-odd year old killer? People will be sympathetic just because the guy is old.” She sighed and turned back to the digging.
“How much of the yard do you think they’ll rip up?” I asked.
“Most or all of it,” she said over her shoulder.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.
“Before we leave, Pamela has a proposition for you,” Chris said.
Janet turned to me with a questioning expression on her face.
“Chris and I were thinking that, if you want to, maybe you could start leaving Friday with us while you’re at work. We can train her for you. Besides, she needs the socialization with other dogs.”
“You’d do that for me and Friday?” Janet was obviously surprised.
“We would.”
“I think I might take you up on that, but let’s wait until we get this case out of the way.” She smiled. “At the very least, these bodies seem to have caused a friendship to form. Who woulda thought?”
***
Chris took the dogs home in his car and I drove over to Chance’s apartment. The door was closed and locked. I walked to the recreation room, but there were only a few people there playing poker.
“Has anyone seen Chance Murphy?” I asked.
“She’s gone out,” one elderly man answered.
“Do you know where?” I asked.
“Don’t know and don’t care,” a woman said. “That old bat can stay away as far as I’m concerned.”
I grabbed a chair from another table and pulled it over to the card players. They had opinions and I wanted to hear them. Maybe Chance being gone would work to my advantage.
“Hi,” I said. “Any possibility you could tell me a little about Chance?”
“Buy-in is fifty cents,” the man on my right said.
“Buy-in?”
“If you pay you can play, and we’ll talk to you. No play, no talk.” This came from the lady who didn’t care if Chance ever came back. She was holding the cards, ready to deal, but waited to see if I was in or not.
I rooted through my purse and plunked two quarters on the table. “By the way, my name is Pamela.”
“We play for pennies, honey,” said the man on my right. He very slowly counted out fifty pennies and traded them for the quarters. “Now deal those cards, Shelly.”
And the game began.
Shelly, the elderly woman, dealt the cards as though she’d been doing it all her life.
I glanced at my hand. Two queens. Good start. “I’ll take three,” I said, when it was my turn.
Shelly slapped three cards in front of me and pointed at Stuart, the man on my right. He held up two fingers and this time she slammed the cards down.
“I win a lot,” Stuart said quietly, smiling behind his cards.
Glancing at my new cards, I discovered that I now had three queens. I let the first hand finish before asking questions. Stuart’s three fours beat my three queens because I didn’t let on that I had a good hand. I turned my cards face down and frowned like a loser should. I wanted to stay on the good side of these people.
“So whadda ya want to know about Fancy Shmancy Chancey?” Shelly asked.
“Guess I don’t need to ask what you think of her, huh?” I smiled at Shelly. She didn’t smile back.
“That woman has been a pain in my posterior since she moved in. She thinks she’s better than the rest of us because she has money. I don’t know what she’s doin’ livin’ here if she’s so all-fired rich. I think she made it up.”
“She is a looker though,” Stuart said. “If we were both a bit younger… ”
A second man at the table finally spoke up. “I knew her in the day,” he said. “She was quite a doll in those days. The kinda woman that could make a man sing for his supper, not to mention a few other things.”
Shelly lightly slapped his hand, knocking his cards on the floor. “Jim, you ol’ coot, you never told me you knew that woman before.”
“Well, I did,” he said, bending over to pick up his cards. “She used to sing at a gin mill in the old days. Voice like an angel, but the personality of a rogue elephant.”
“I think you’ve got her mixed up with someone else,” Stuart said.
“No, I don’t. Her real name was Mildred, and when she began warblin’ at that place she started going by Chance.”
Shelly began to laugh. “Mildred? Now that ain’t no high and mighty name for a songbird or a rich lady. Mildred. Huh.”
I knew I was on to something since he knew her given name. He wasn’t making up a story.
“What else do you remember about her?” I asked, smiling at Jim.
“Oh, she ran a boarding house here in town. She was real selective about who she let live there though.” Jim looked up at the ceiling, as though seeing the past there. “She didn’t want no bums livin’ in her house. I do recollect one guy who got mad at her when she wouldn’t let him move in. Course, she mighta turned him down because she found out he was married.”
Stuart laughed at that one. “Wives do tend to get in the way sometimes.”
“Does she remember you?” I asked.
Jim frowned. “I doubt it. I was kind of a… What do they call it? Oh yeah, I was a wallflower, in those days. I was kinda quiet. Women didn’t usually notice me, at least until I met my Helen, God rest her soul.”
“Do you remember how old she was when she sang at the bar?” I asked.
He glanced back up at the ceiling and rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Ohhh, I’d guess mebbe twenty to twenty-five. She was quite a looker back then, too. Still is, jus’ like ol’ Stuey says.”
“Are we gonna play cards or not?” Shelly asked, obviously annoyed.
We each pushed some pennies into the pot and Shelly dealt the hands.
Jim looked at his cards and threw them down. “I ain’t playin’ these cards. Can’t you deal me a good hand once in a while?”
“What else do you recall, Jim?” I asked, also throwing in my hand.
“I remember one night when some guy came in and… Now what was his name? I know it. It’ll come to me. But anyway, he was whisperin’ to her, probably sweet nothins’. She told him where to get off in no uncertain terms. That woman had a mouth on her. She might have sung like a canary, but she didn’t talk like no rich dame when she was mad.”
Jim continued to watch the ceiling, like it might open up and drop a name to him.
<
br /> “Now what was his name? I know it’ll come to me. Anyways, he quit whisperin’ to her and started yellin’, and the bartender had to kick him out. Hmm. Something to do with boats. I remember his name had something to do with boats.”
My little heart did a tap dance. “Shipley?” I asked. “Could it have been Sam Shipley?”
Jim slapped his knee. “That was it, Sam Shipley. Funny thing is, I didn’t think he was interested in her until she started yellin’ at him. He was at her about something, that’s for sure, but the things she yelled had to do with him tryin’ to be, uh, too friendly.” The little old man looked down, appearing embarrassed.
“He wanted a romance with Chance,” Shelly sang out. “What a dope.”
“We were all dopes back then,” Stuart said.
“Speak for yourself.” Jim gave Stuart a crooked smile. “I had a brain, and I wouldn’t have gone for a woman like her. Now, I might have gone for her friend, Alice. Alice Cook? No, that’s not right. Oh yeah, Alice Frye. I was thinkin’ of a fry cook.”
If Jim had said I-30, I’d have yelled BINGO! What a memory! It seemed that the boarders had interacted more than we’d thought, and Jim had witnessed a little of that interaction.
“Uh oh,” Stuart said. “Shelly, you just dealt me the dead man’s hand. Would ya be more careful in the future?”
“I don’t control the cards,” she replied.
“What’s a dead man’s hand?” I asked.
“Aces and eights,” Shelly replied.
Somehow a dead man’s hand seemed appropriate since I was asking so many questions revolving around murder.
Chapter Twenty-five
I played cards with my new friends for about half an hour, hoping that Chance might return. She didn’t.
The only other information that I got from Jim was that Alice had hung around the bar once in a while, seemingly as Chance’s sidekick. Jim thought she was cute, but the two women had suddenly quit coming in. Jim thought they might have had a falling out.
Glancing at my watch, I said, “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve got a son and husband to get home to. I hope I see you all again.”
“You’re okay, Pamela,” Shelly said. “Come back and join us again sometime, and bring your nickels. We don’t always play penny ante.”
“Thanks. I enjoyed myself.” Surprisingly, I really had. Although I hadn’t learned any more about Chance and her boarders, the seniors had shared other stories with me about their younger days, and they laughed at each other’s antics. They were nice people. And Shelly had invited me back. I felt much the same way I had back in school when I passed a dreaded test.
I drove home brimming with hope that we were on our way to solving crimes, and I couldn’t wait to tell Chris what I’d learned. His car wasn’t there so I assumed he was meeting with Smokey Joe. I wondered what his real name was.
It was four-thirty when Chris pulled up, and he had Mikey with him. They brought in a bag from a local rib shop, which included potato skins and cole slaw in addition to the barbequed ribs.
“As long as I was out, I thought I’d pick up Ace and dinner.”
“Works for me,” I said, giving both of my boys a hug. “Are you going to do the cleanup, too?”
“Don’t get carried away, Mom,” Mikey said.
Chris gently smacked the back of Mikey’s head. “Of course, we’ll clean up the dishes.”
He leaned down and whispered to Mikey, but I couldn’t hear what he said.
“Oh, yeah,” Mikey said. “I forgot we’ll be using paper plates tonight.”
Mikey grinned while Chris grimaced.
We sat down to dinner after I made a point of setting the table with my good china.
“See what you did, Ace?” Chris asked. “Maybe next time you’ll keep your mouth shut.” The two waited for me to sit down before joining me.
“The kid is still wet behind the ears,” Chris said, patting my hand. “He’s got a lot to learn between now and when he marries.”
Mikey thumped himself on the forehead. “Yup. I guess I do.”
While we ate, Mikey told us about his day, but the further he got into rib eating, the quieter things were around the table.
“Have you had a chance to meet with… ” I glanced at my son who was concentrating on his ribs. “…anyone yet?”
Chris glanced at Mikey, too, before answering me. “Turns out Smokey Joe’s real name is Tim Collins, and he lives in Florida. I’m going to call him after dinner.”
“I’ll tell you about my trip to Chance’s place later,” I said. “I met some interesting seniors who live there and one of them knew Chance when she was young.”
“Hmm.” I’d lost Chris to the ribs, as well as Mikey.
“So where were you if you didn’t meet with Smokey Joe?” I asked.
“I drove over and talked to a couple of our waitresses. They both said they’d be ready to come back to us when we open the new restaurant.”
“Do they know what’s been going on?”
“Yeah, and they don’t care. They said we’re their goombahs and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, they said we’re their friends.” I could have cried. Loyalty was high on my list of things I like about a person. “Who did you talk to?”
“Phyllis and Gloria, our resident Marilyn Monroe and Myrna Loy. They love playing those roles.”
“Who knew? Well, bless their hearts, I like them, too. However, Bogey Man, I think they’ve spent too much time around you if they’re using words like goombah.”
“Smokey Joe?” Mikey’s head popped up. “What kind of name is that?”
“Oh, he’s just a guy,” Chris said casually.
“A little slow on the uptake, isn’t he?” I said.
“Good ribs,” Mikey said, grinning again.
After we finished eating, true to their word, Chris and Mikey cleaned up the dishes while I sat in the living room and looked through a magazine. Even when I heard the sound of breaking glass, I retained my composure. Mostly.
Mikey went upstairs to do his homework and Chris picked up the phone to call Florida.
“Isn’t it a little late?” I asked.
He looked at his watch. “I guess it is. I’ll call him first thing in the morning – after Ace leaves for school.”
***
The next morning I asked Chris to wait until I took Mikey to school before he called Smokey Joe. He agreed and told me to get back as soon as I could.
Half an hour later I pulled into the driveway and hurried into the house, bearing a bag of donuts. We’d been in a rush and only had a light breakfast.
I set them on the table. “Call Smokey Joe first,” I said. “I can’t wait to find out what he has to tell us.”
Chris dialed the number and when the phone began to ring he put it in speaker mode.
“Hello?” said a younger sounding voice, not at all what I expected.
“Is Tim Collins in?” Chris asked.
“Hold on a minute,” the man replied.
We could hear him calling, “Hey, Smokey! It’s for you.”
He came back to the phone and told us it would take a couple of minutes for Smokey to get to the phone, and would we hold on?
While we waited, Chris and I looked at each other.
“What are we going to say?” I asked.
“We’re going to ask about the boarding house. He told Janet that he had some information, so I’m going to ask him what he knows.”
“At least we know they still call him Smokey. I wonder if he knew any of the others. Blakely would have already gone missing, but he could have known Sam Shipley or Dudley Long. He might have known Alice Frye, too.”
After what seemed like a very long time, Smokey finally picked up the receiver.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“My name is Chris Cross. I understand that you spoke to Janet Riley yesterday about the time you lived in a boarding house in Los Angeles. You rented a room from Chance Murphy,
or you might have known her as Mildred.”
“Oh, yeah, Detective Riley told me you’d be calling. What do you need to know?” Smokey’s voice sounded strong, even though he was soft-spoken. And he sounded alert, which was a huge plus. He was probably around Chance’s age, I would think.
“The body of a man who lived there before your time has been found and we’re investigating. We’re trying to figure out what happened to him. Do you remember Sam Shipley, Dudley Long or Alice Frye?”
“Can’t say as any of those names ring a bell, but I didn’t live there very long.”
“What do you remember about Chance Murphy? Anything you tell me could help,” Chris said.
“Well, she was a headstrong young woman, but… She changed my life. Simple as that, although I guess it wasn’t really simple. Let me tell you what happened.” He was quiet for a moment and we could hear the other man talking in the background. “Hold on a second.”
“Yes, I will,” Smokey said to the other man. “Say, son, would you bring me a glass of water. These old pipes get mighty dry these days.”
We waited for a moment longer.
Turning back to the phone, he said, “That’s my grandson, George. I live with him and his wife. They’re good people.
“So back to my story. Did you kind of wonder why I’m called Smokey Joe?”
“I’ve been wondering,” I said.
“Well, now, who does that lovely voice belong to?” We’d forgotten to tell him I’d be listening in.
“I’m Chris’s wife, Pamela. I’m listening in because we’re working on this together. So why do they call you Smokey Joe?”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cross. I signed up for the army at a very young age. Actually, I lied about my age so I could serve. In those days we were all about mom, apple pie and protecting our country. So I served. I spent time overseas, and I saw things that would curl your hair, but I won’t go into that. When I came home, I started drinking and smoking. I guess you’d call me a chain smoker – and Smokey Joe was born. But the drinking didn’t help me forget what I’d seen. So I drank more and smoked more.