The Iniquitous Investigator (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 8)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  "Why are we whispering?"

  "Little ears." I jerked my head towards the outer office where Robert was talking on the phone and Ben was suspiciously quiet.

  Mike smiled and nodded. "Greg went all cop on Sam yesterday. Apparently they had a disagreement about the Osso kid. Last night, Greg told me he thinks Sam might be a communist."

  I smiled and said, "Yeah. I figured it was something like that." I looked out the window and tried to imagine the view from the nineteenth floor of the new building. "You think it's gonna be a problem?"

  Mike shook his head. "No. If they could train each other, they'd both be better at their jobs. Sam could use more professionalism and Greg could get a little more streetwise."

  I nodded. "How's the pillow talk?"

  "It's none of your business, that's how it is."

  I laughed.

  . . .

  Carter and I walked over to Pine Street to the office building where Kenneth Wilcox was working. He had about five lawyers working for him. When I'd hired him the previous summer, it had just been him. Besides working for me, which required another full-time lawyer, he also represented the Joes and Janes who got caught up in the police raids at the bars and nightclubs were people like us, in the life, tended to congregate. There were more raids all the time, so he was plenty busy.

  He's been working on the fourth floor of the 777 Bush Street building, but we'd had to move him over to Pine Street. It was a small office building I'd bought for just that purpose. It was plain and no great shakes but when the new office building opened, they would move over with us.

  We sat down in his office while he closed the door.

  Kenneth said, "I'm sorry about your uncle, Carter."

  Carter nodded. "Thanks."

  I asked, "Any news about the hearing?"

  "No. Any news on your end?"

  I nodded and filled him in on what we'd heard from Sam, Greg, and Dawson. "You'll be getting typewritten reports on all of this by the end of the day."

  Kenneth looked relieved. "Good. I've run across this psychiatrist before. But this new theory is out of the blue. But so much of Weissech's insistence on taking this to trial now makes sense. If he can get the court to buy the theory, then every queer in Marin County can be locked up." He shook his head.

  Carter said, "It doesn't sound right."

  Kenneth nodded. "It isn't. But it's novel. It'll play all over the press, I can tell you that. This doctor is going to become famous. But it's a plain violation of due process. You were both arrested on a presumption of guilt with absolutely no facts. I still wonder if they have something that we don't know about."

  I asked, "What could there be?"

  "There's your hearing in Georgia. But that would be the kind of thing to bring before a jury. Besides, it was a preliminary hearing, just like this, so you didn't testify. They didn't have any evidence." He took a deep breath and looked down at his desk for a moment. "The only thing I can remotely imagine is that your public persona, under the broadest interpretation of the penal code, automatically makes you a lewd or dissolute person. The law is very vague. If you're lewd, then you're guilty of vagrancy. But, again, there's a presumption of guilt that doesn't hold water. No one saw you do anything."

  Carter added. "Because we didn't."

  Kenneth looked at us both. "Is there anything at all you could have done that they might find out about?"

  I closed my eyes and replayed the scene. "There are two things I can think of. There was the cigarette."

  "What cigarette?" asked Kenneth.

  I said, "Watch this." I took out my pack of Camels, handed a cigarette to Carter, and repeated our little trick so that Kenneth could see it.

  He shook his head. "That's not enough. What was the other thing?"

  I sighed. "The last time we were in Sausalito was in '48. We were sitting at the same lunch counter and Carter very quietly told me that he loved me. I didn't take it well."

  Carter said, "No, you didn't."

  "I walked out, had a cigarette or two, walked back in..." I tried to remember the exact sequence of events. "Then we left and Carter said something to me on the sidewalk and I gave him my right hook."

  Carter said, "Then he walked away and left me there. Everyone at the counter saw what happened. There's a park about half a block down. I walked over and saw him standing by the marina. He came back over and kissed me."

  Kenneth looked alarmed. "In broad daylight?"

  I nodded. "You had to be there. It was one of those moments." I looked over at Carter and reached my hand out. He took it and held it.

  "Then we noticed that the waitress was watching us. She was sweet about it and left. And that's it."

  Kenneth looked at me with a question on his face. "But that was six years ago."

  I nodded. "It was. But she was working there on Monday and definitely recognized us."

  Kenneth asked, "Did she seem friendly?"

  I looked at Carter. He said, "The joint was hopping. She was busy. I seem to remember that she said something like, 'Hi there, fellas, long time no see.' Then she went back to work."

  "Did she serve you?"

  I shook my head. "No. It was the other gal."

  Kenneth picked up a pencil and began to make some notes. I asked, "Should we have someone go over and track her down?"

  Kenneth nodded. "Definitely. The sooner, the better."

  . . .

  When we walked back into the office on Bush Street, we found Ben and Robert arguing.

  "But, why?" That was Ben.

  "I don't know, Ben. That's just the way she does it."

  They both looked at me. I asked, "What?"

  Ben said, "Marnie is--"

  I cut him off. "Whatever it is, just do it that way."

  He turned red, something I'd never seen before. "But, Nick--"

  I shook my head. "No. Just do it. Marnie is one of the smartest people I know. If you want to know why, you can ask her when she gets back."

  Ben looked angry. "When is that?"

  I shrugged. "I dunno. Why don't you get her on the phone and find out?"

  "How?"

  "Call Carter's Aunt Velma in Albany. Marnie has her number."

  Carter said, "Or I can give it to you."

  Ben said, "No, that's fine. I'm sure I can find it."

  He sat down at Marnie's desk as we walked into my office. Carter grinned at me as I put my hat on the rack.

  I asked, "Are you--"

  In a loud voice, Ben said, "Long distance." He definitely sounded upset.

  I smiled. "Are you going to--"

  "I need to make a person-to-person call to--" Ben nearly shouted. He slammed down the phone, stood up, and stormed out.

  We walked over to where Robert was standing.

  "What was that about?" I asked.

  Robert looked worried. "It's nothing. I'm sure he'll calm down and be back in a moment."

  I stared at Robert for a long moment. "That was not nothing. What's going on?"

  "He just doesn't know how to stay organized. I don't know how to put it. This morning he was chipper and happy to be here. He's really out of his element, Nick."

  I nodded and said, "Can you call Aunt Velma and talk to Marnie about when they're coming home?"

  "Sure, Nick."

  "Thanks, Robert. I'm sorry I put you through this. It was a stupid idea."

  He smiled. "On the other hand, I think he appreciates Marnie now. He almost admitted it."

  . . .

  I walked into the men's room down the hall from the office. Ben was standing at the sink, washing his face.

  "Ben--"

  "I'm going to quit, Nick. Obviously, I'm an idiot and can't even do a damn secretary's job."

  I said, "Well, before you hand in your papers, lemme apologize."

  He stood up and washed his face on the towel. "What for?"

  "I just wanted you to realize why Marnie gets paid as much as she does."

  He sighed. "I get it
now. That's for sure. I've been doing her job for, what, three hours? I'm frustrated as hell. Obviously, I'm not cut out for this work."

  "What work?"

  "Working here. With you guys. Everyone else is a genius. Look at Mike. Look at Sam, for chrissakes. He knows everyone and everything in this town."

  He turned and looked at me. "I was a terrible cop. When they fired me, I was relieved. I was scared because of the money, sure. But I was relieved." He sighed as he pulled a comb out of his trousers and ran it through his hair. "And I'm glad you were there and took care of things. I really am."

  I nodded. "It was only right. I got you into that trouble and it was on me to set things to rights. As best as I could, anyhow."

  He smiled. "And you did. Look." He took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask Carlo to move down to L.A. We've both still got most of that bonus you gave us last year. We can live on that for a long time." His eyes began to shine as he talked. "I have some contacts in the business. I've always wanted to work in the movies. Or in television"

  I stood there for a moment and looked him over. The first moment I'd met Ben was when he'd met Martinelli at the Top of the Mark. Carter and I had arranged that. And it was fireworks between the two of them from the start. So, I'd never really looked at the guy. He was handsome. His bright blue eyes were shining. His blonde hair even had a halo from the light over the sink.

  "You're in love," I said.

  "With Carlo? Sure. Now and forever." He sighed.

  I shook my head. "That's not what I mean. You're in love with show business."

  Ben looked at the floor. "I know how you feel about Hollywood. You must think I'm ridiculous."

  "No. But, you're right. I don't like L.A. I don't like Hollywood. But I'm not the one who wants to move down there." I had an idea. I wondered what Carter would think but I liked it.

  "If you and Martinelli want to go, you have my blessing. Of course, I don't know what Carter will say about his last arson investigator leaving us. But I get it. I get why you want to do it."

  Ben looked relieved. He reached out and hugged me. "Thanks, Nick. You don't know how much this means to me."

  I hugged him back and said, "You're welcome. And I have a proposition for you."

  Ben stepped back and asked, "What?" I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but it seemed like he was a little suspicious.

  "If you think you can pull it off, I'll stake you the cash to start up a small production company." Ben's eyes widened. "But you have to go down there and get your feet wet. Then you come back up here and sell me on the idea." He nodded vigorously. "The way I did this for Henry with his engineering firm and Pam with Universal Construction is that I gave them forty-nine percent ownership off the bat. They have the option to buy out my fifty-one percent over time, as much or as little as they want. I'll give you the same deal. But you have to go down there for at least six months and see how it works."

  He brushed away a tear.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. "I think you're plenty smart. You just have to know what you want to do. And I think Hollywood is where it's at for you. Waddaya think?"

  Ben smiled broadly. "I think yes! Gosh, Nick! Thanks so much!" He shook my hand energetically and then pulled me in for another hug. I kissed him on the cheek and he sighed. "Wow," he said. "I feel so much better."

  "It's the kiss on the cheek. Works every time."

  . . .

  I sent Ben back to Mike to talk things over. I walked over to Carter's office. I knocked on the door and walked in. He and Martinelli were discussing an investigation they were working on down in Atherton. There had been a suspicious fire at a new home construction site.

  "Carlo, can you give me ten minutes?"

  He stood up and said, "That's OK, Nick. I was gonna take Ben out to lunch. That good with you, Carter?"

  My husband stood up and said, "Fine. Let's meet here at 2 and we'll finish the report."

  Carlo nodded, put on his coat and hat, and left.

  "What's up, Boss?"

  I said, "Let's go grab a bite."

  "Anything serious?"

  I shrugged. "Depends on your perspective. But, before we leave, let's go talk to Mike about sending someone to track down the gal at the Rexall counter."

  He grabbed his hat and smiled at me. I opened the door and he did his usual trick of reaching over my head from behind to grab the door with his one hand and pushing me through with the other.

  Chapter 6

  Offices of Consolidated Security

  Thursday, July 8, 1954

  Early afternoon

  When we walked in Mike's office, he was alone. "You see Ben in the last ten minutes?" I asked.

  "He came in and was about to tell me something when Carlo dropped by. They went to lunch. Why?"

  "He's off desk duty." I wasn't sure if I should say anything, or not, so I didn't. For the time being, at least. "Meanwhile, we met with Kenneth and he wants someone to go interview this gal at the Rexall in Sausalito." I explained who it was.

  Mike said, "I'll get Walter on that. Let's get him in here so you can give him the details."

  I nodded and looked over at Carter, who was leaning against the wall and looking mighty handsome. As Mike was on the phone asking Walter to come downstairs, Carter caught me staring, winked at me, and pulled on the brim of his hat. My knees went weak. As usual.

  Mike, who'd missed all of that, said, "Walter was supposed to go over to Sausalito with Greg and Sam yesterday, but I put him on making calls with Andy instead."

  "Any reason?" I asked.

  "He's a good researcher. He got more done in one day that I could have done in a week. Once I told him not to worry about the cost of long distance, he was burning up the wires between here and Texas."

  Right then, the door opened and a kid in a blue suit that was a little too big for him walked in.

  "Walter Marcello, this is Nick Carter." I extended my hand and got a limp one in return. He was like an owl. A very skinny owl. He was about 5'2" and maybe a hundred pounds sopping wet. He wore horned-rimmed glasses that looked too big for his circular face. With dark hair and big round dark eyes, he was cute as a button. But he looked like he was hungry. I had a strong desire to start cooking something and get him fattened up.

  "Hello, Mr. Williams. It's an honor." His voice was high and he sounded like he was a little frightened. When Carter moved towards him, he backed up a step.

  Mike said, "This is Carter Jones. Besides being one of our co-founders, he heads the arson investigation team."

  Carter extended his right hand and engulfed Walter's. It wasn't a handshake as much as Carter taking hold of the damp end of a mop.

  Walter looked up and said, "Uh, hi."

  Carter smiled. "Relax, kid. We're all friends around here." He sat down on the edge of Mike's desk and was still taller than Walter.

  I asked, "Where were you working before you came here?"

  Pushing up his glasses nervously, he replied, "Albany." That was a small town across the bay that sat between Berkeley and Richmond on the highway to Sacramento.

  "What kinda work you do there?"

  "Mostly administration. Paperwork."

  Mike smiled. "Don't let him fool you, Nick. He's got a nose like no one I've ever met. He found Mildred."

  I was surprised. "That was fast."

  Mike said, "Maybe we can all go to lunch with Andy and talk about it then."

  Walter coughed. "I have that other thing we talked about, Mr. Robertson."

  I said, "We're all on a first-name basis around here, Walter."

  Mike stood up. As he did so, I watched Walter's eyes pop. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face with it.

  "No problem, kid. Andy and I can cover it. You go do your thing. But, first, Nick has a job for you."

  Turning his owl-like face in my direction, he asked, "Yes?"

  I explained about the Rexall in Sausalito, what happened in '48, and that we wanted him to find out if the police had
been talking to the waitress since we were there on Monday.

  Looking between Carter and me, Walter asked, "You kissed each other in public?" His voice was quiet and full of awe.

  Carter laughed. "We try not to make a habit of it, but we did. It was a special moment." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I love Nick and, around here, I'm happy to say it."

  I reached up and put my hand on his. "And, I love you, too."

  Walter swallowed. "Well, I, uh, I need to go. And, uh, I'll go right over to Sausalito if you want, Mr. Robertson, once I'm done."

  Mike said, "That's fine. Report in as soon as you know something."

  He nodded. Backing up to the door, he said, "Mr. Williams." He nodded at me and then at Carter. "Mr. Jones." With that, he fled the room as quickly as he could.

  I looked at Mike who shrugged.

  . . .

  We picked up Andy, walked down Bush to Chinatown, and grabbed a booth at the Far East Cafe on Grant.

  After we'd put in for our food and two pots of tea, Mike said, "Andy has the report on Mildred."

  Carter and I were sitting next to each other. Across from us, Andy was on the inside and Mike was on the outside.

  "Whatcha got?" I asked.

  He pulled out a notebook from his coat pocket. "Walter got most of this. You met Walter, right?"

  Carter and I nodded.

  Flipping open the notebook, Andy said, "So, Mildred is married. We got the marriage certificate pulled from the Galveston County Courthouse. She's married to a John Lewis Fontaine. What a pip he is. Got a rap sheet for mostly small stuff and, get this, none of it in Galveston County. He's in the rackets and, based on his sheet, he's worked the Gulf coast from Brownsville to New Orleans. Been in Galveston for a while. He used to work for the Maceo brothers, before they moved to Las Vegas. Now he manages the Rio Grande Club, owned by the Fertitta family. The Maceo brothers handed off their gambling and prostitution rackets to their nephews, Victor and Anthony Fertitta, back in 1950 or so. The Rio Grande is a gambling joint with a brothel upstairs."

  At that point, the waitress brought our food. Mike had the crabs, as always. Carter had the chop suey, his standby. I had a spicy soup and steamed dumplings, which were my lunch usual. Andy was trying out their egg foo young to see how it compared to what he used to get in the L.A. Chinatown when he lived down there.