Crime Takes No Holiday

by Thomas Lewis

  “Don’t ever change, ‘Defective’.”

  Dooley glared at me yet again. I raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘you want some of this?’ I put my thumbnail behind my front teeth and clicked it towards him.

  “Cutta!”

  An ancient Sicilian insult, meaning ‘screw you and your whole family!’ I squared myself.

  “Come near me again, snowflake, I’ll break that pencil off in your ass.”

  Dooley took a step towards me as Barney tried to put the arm on him.

  “Off me, Pyle,” jerking his arm away.

  “You should be careful who you piss off, Andy. During the Chalmers takedown I heard Barney tell Captain Janks he’d just as soon slap that cookie duster right off your face.”

  Dooley whirled and squared towards Pyle, who tried to protest yet no recognizable words came out of his mouth.

  “Or maybe it‘s me said that.”

  I’d made it all up. The cookie duster was new.

  Still glaring at Pyle, “I’ll deal with you later,” as he shoulder-shoved him on his way to the far side of the room.

  I knew he was a cream puff. I chuckled again and turned away.

  “Kate, you can ride with me.”

  “Hold on, Miss … Wellsey, is it? … will ride with the squad, and you’ll ride with us. Put ‘em in the cars.”

  “C’mon, Dooley. At least let me help you figure out who these guys are.”

  “Save it. This is a crime scene now, and ‘citizens’ aren’t part of the investigation. Especially citizens who shoot other citizens, or murder them with a nine iron,” as he gestured to the club Pyle had retrieved.

  “Seven iron, ‘Defective’.”

  Pyle was staring again, perhaps wondering if the distinction mattered.

  “And I want that back!”

  Dooley was scowling at my new pet name for him.

  "And what murder, Andy? I told you, the guy drew down on me.”

  “You mean that one, might have,” gesturing. “Barney, what did they just teach us about moving the evidence?”

  Pyle glanced at the seven iron then gave a stupid shrug.

  Dooley barked at the uni’s,

  “In the cars. Now. If this one says another word, cuff him.”

  “And ‘citizens’? My narrow ass, Dooley. It was a good shoot.”

  Sighing audibly, “Used-to-be cops can’t claim ‘good shoot’, Jack,” as he shook his head, never looking up from his notepad.

  Perturbed by my pleas, he broke the pencil point off and swore, then stifled once he remembered there was a lady present. The junior uni started to pull his cuffs, but his training officer, who recognized me, slapped his hand.

  “Put those away!”

  As we were escorted out, we bumped into another uniform cordoning off the scene. I knew the guy from the stationhouse.

  “Danny boy! Long time! What’s with this yellow tape?”

  “Somethin’ new the Captain has us testing out.”

  Nodding, I noticed Dooley hustling Kate to the squad car.

  “Kate, don’t you say anything to anyone without me there.”

  I got those last words out just before Pyle muscled me into the back seat of the Packard. He threw the wingtips unceremoniously onto my lap and slammed the door. A bit harder than necessary.

  The standard-issue Packard Clipper smelled like Dooley’s cigars, with a slight insouciant bouquet of puke. I had another ten minutes on the ride to plan my next move.

  Drew a blank. I got nuthin’.

  I tried to rattle them on the way in.

  “You two fudge nozzles must really love the smell of your own farts, huh? Crack a window, ferchrissakes.”

  They weren’t buying.

  PART THREE

  Dicks In The Dark

  At the station–sure fun seeing this old bunch of pricks again–they kept us separate and put me in Interrogation B. Kate, likely in A. So much for my instructions to Kate. Should have predicted …

  “What are you guys … gonna grill me on a lamp like a common perp? Might as well cuff me to the table leg as well,” I complained righteously.

  I thought I sounded really tough, but saying ‘as well’ twice in the same sentence belied this fact pretty obviously.

  “We could do that, if you like. Don’t get your Munsingwear in a twist, snooper. We just want to get your side of it.”

  “My side of what, Andy? There’s only one ‘side’ of ‘it’, and that is ‘what happened’. Kate wasn’t even in the room.”

  Dooley paused. Stared.

  “Does little Parker know you two are on a first-name basis, Jack?”

  “… Miss Wellesley is my client; I, am a professional.”

  I tried to imply by this that he wasn’t. He scoffed, assuming everyone regarded females the same way he did, and that he could rattle me with my weak spot, Parker.

  “Boy, I bet you’d hate to lose any geological drilling rights to that sweet little meat pie. What a top-shelf cutie like her sees in a dope like you …”

  I strongly considered coming over the table, but somehow found the restraint. It would have ended badly, anyway, especially for me, so I tried to ignore the attempt to ruffle me. I was also shocked Andy Dooley could actually pronounce a five-syllable word.

  “Your momma seems to have no complaints. Likes the drilling just fine.”

  Dooley chuckled, that is, if you can chuckle without smiling. Oddly, I think Pyle was stifling a smile, as he quietly stayed in the background.

  I knew Andy had the hots for Parker, back when she was a file clerk here. Or at least for parts of her, I caught him staring at her legs walking away a lot, and he’d talk directly to her chest when facing her.

  Could be why she finally left. No wonder he hates me.

  Righting myself … more calmly,

  “This young lady is my client, ‘Defectives’. I only met her like an hour ago. She needs my help, since you mofos are no help to her. And I want that seven iron back!”

  “ ‘De-tec-tive’, dammit! So who’s trying to hurt her?”

  “How the hell should I know? One hour ago, Andy.”

  “You’re the big private dick peeper now, aren’t you? How do we know these imbeciles weren’t trying to protect her … from you!”

  “Puh-lease. I don’t know if they were there to kill her, scare her, or snatch her. Just that they were not welcome, and they were … trigger happy.”

  “Jack, you’ve pulled some real shit, both before and after losing your shield, but this one takes the cake. I’m thinking maybe we should cuff you to the table leg.”

  “Andy, you got a mirror on ya?”

  “What. You got a hair out of place?”

  “No. I only want to see if I look like I give a shit what you think.”

  Pyle snorted then coughed, trying to cover his laugh.

  “Shut up, Barney!”

  Blah-blah-blah.

  This idiocy went on and on until they were satisfied they’d demonstrated to me how exceedingly large their cocks and balls must be. Finally, the dick-measurin’ contest ended. Kate had backed my story, they had nothing to hold me on and let me go.

  “Don’t leave town, snooper.”

  “Piss off!”

  ◆◆◆

  I checked and discovered that Kate had been driven home in a squad car about twenty minutes ago. I found Detective Lauro, who’d been observing all, unbeknownst, from behind the one-way glass in a viewing area separating A and B, lounging at his desk reading the Times. Captain Janks himself had commandeered this latest interview of Kate, because … well, have you seen her?

  “Mando, drive me to my car?”

  He glanced at Chang, who I was pretending was invisible.

  “C’mon, Jack,” he moaned half annoyed, as he folded the paper and laid it down.

  Chang rose up.

  “Easy, Lou … I got this.”

  We shuffled out and got into Mando’s Packard, which also smelled like cigars (Chang!) but not quit
e so much like puke. Definitely garlic, I’m guessing due to Mando’s penchant for bad Italian takeout.

  Grabbing the steering wheel a bit too hard for effect,

  “Why … in the hell, do I let you stick my tits in the wringer all the time, Jack? It’s worse than when we worked together.”

  Mando pumped the gas as the motor turned over and coughed to life.

  “This is all legit. Did they figure out who the mooks were?” trying to change the subject.

  “How should I know? Chang and I were out on a double—a domestic gone bad,” he half lied.

  “You gotta help me on this, Armando, you owe me. I was the one kept your tits out of the wringer in ’46,” as his head seesawed in reluctant agreement.

  “This girl’s life is at stake, and as likely as not her roommate’s, too. Her gone missing’s how this all started.”

  “Oh yeah. Thought she looked familiar.”

  Mando was full of shit, up to here, and the rest is toilet paper. No red-blooded man lays eyes on a looker like Kate and then doesn’t seem to recognize her two hours later.

  “The Captain says missing persons will be its own division soon. I think it was Louie that took her statement just as we got called out on that double. Cute girl. Somebody tried to hurt her, huh?”

  Chang! I told her to insist on Mando, which I was now thinking hardly would have mattered.

  “Couple of turds broke in her back door. I followed them in with my seven iron. Bent it a little, maybe. Might have to … ahem! … buy a new one.” Trailing off softly, “The rest is uh … history. Still kinda like to, you know–I want that seven iron back.”

  Armando, first a little shocked, chuckled as only Armando can.

  “Hand-forged steel shaft, Mando.”

  “Got a license for that five iron? Man, you got nine lives, ese. I’d say only one or two left.”

  “Seven iron. And oh, that’s just … so funny. Listen, this girl and her roomie only have one life apiece, and that’s getting doubtful. I gotta solve this, and quick.”

  Trying to cool me out, “We’ll figure it out, partner.”

  He hadn’t called me this in a very long time.

  “Pyle and Dooley have it all under control. They’ll get to the bottom of it,” now in his ‘talking me down’ voice, complete with hand gestures.

  Sure they do.

  “Mando, no offense but you’ve been inside too long. Pyle and Dooley couldn’t find their dicks in the dark.

  “You know it’ll only take one or two glazed donuts to get in the way of any real progress, especially with those two miscreants at the helm. They couldn’t direct traffic on a one-way street.”

  “Hmmm. Point taken. Listen, we’ve got the missing persons case; Lou and I’ll follow up on it from that angle.”

  “Chang! Another Rhodes Scholar. He couldn’t spell FBI if you spotted him the F!”

  “No, I got him under control. He’s not half bad.”

  “There’s still another twenty-plus hours until that becomes official.”

  “Well, the double hom’s wrapped up. I’ve got Chang doing the paperwork on that right now, so we can follow up on the MP a bit early. Captain Janks won’t even know.”

  “Oh, that’s just great. I knew I could count on you.”

  My sarcasm drew stink eye from him.

  “Where do we want to start?”

  “What you mean ‘we’, white man? The only way this could possibly work is if you and I each investigate independently. In-dependently! Otherwise Chang’ll blow the whistle … he’s prob’ly in there right now blowing the cap–listen, I’m takin’ a chance right now playin’ taxicab driver. The captain’d blow a seam if he knew you and I were even in the same block, let alone the same car. We’ll … update each other when we get anything.” More calming hand gestures.

  “Ten and two!” I barked. With my own hand gesture.

  I’d had it with the condescension. Armando shook his head and sighed as he floored the Packard through a yellow. Silence for eight seconds. I calmed a bit. The ride, and the conversation, was ending.

  He turned and glanced at me, possibly surprised that the friend who would never shut up had suddenly gone mute. I glanced back and then forward out the windshield.

  “Listen, Jack. If anyone can crack this nut, that’s you. I’ll help as much as I’m able. You know you can count on that.”

  I nodded. My ex-partner’s one of the good guys.

  “I know.”

  Another block rolled past.

  “It’s just … I killed two people this morning, Mando.”

  “No, you risked your life to stop two bad guys from killing an innocent victim. They messed with the wrong cop. Ex-cop. Detective. Private Detective. You’re one of the good guys.”

  I smiled at the coincidence of him saying about me what I was just thinking about him.

  “I don’t know how to feel about this. I never …”

  “… You OK? We’ll do whatever we can to help you find this girl, Jack.”

  “Not really OK. Thanks, though. I guess I can’t ask for more than that, realistically. No, bang a left. Over there, Mando.”

  “Look at you, bein’ all ‘realistical’ and everything for once. You know, you should think about the Police Academy.”

  Armando laughed at his own comic brilliance.

  “Fuck you. There’s my car.”

  But somehow or other he always makes me smile a little.

  PART FOUR

  It Must Be The Chili

  Bidding adieu to my sarcastic ex-partner, I feinted towards the DeSoto as he drove out of sight, then spun and trotted over to Kate’s.

  Come on, Kate, answer the bell!

  She was taking much longer than I’d hoped, which was in truth a reasonable amount of time.

  But I was jazzed, now, on a case and aware of potentially lethal consequences for Kate and her friend, maybe even me. Adrenaline’s my drug of choice, which is likely why I’m not a cop anymore.

  Once inside, lifting a slat on her Venetian blinds,

  “Pack a bag. You’re staying with me for a few days,”

  She protested as we exited her flat, but relented when I explained how whoever sent Moe and Larry might have a Curly they were sending next.

  “Those guys treat you with civility, Mr. Daniel?”

  “It’s Jack. Civility. Oh, sure. I kept trying to steer it to Elle.”

  “Good. They wanted me to say you did something wrong. That captain … he’s kind of a …”

  “I worked under him. I know what word you’re searching for.”

  As I opened the passenger door,

  “Oh. Such a gentleman.”

  My eyes narrowed a bit as I smiled at her. My attitude was changing; Kate was becoming less a fantasy femme fatale to me, yet somehow much more than this.

  For the first time, I was glad Parker was in Indiana, and out of harm’s way. I needed a smoke. My mind was racing on how to crack this nut and keep everyone safe.