by Gary Ruffin
Her attacker continued his sick attempt to make love to her, and Cherry escaped into her imagination. Pretend this is a movie, pretend that he isn’t there, pretend it isn’t happening, she told herself. But it was happening.
The man pulled himself up and said, “Remember what I told you. Not a sound.”
Grinning down at her, he wrapped Cherry’s yellow scarf around his neck, undid her belt, and roughly opened her corduroy trousers. He grunted as he ripped her knickers off and tossed them aside. One hand on her throat, he choked her as he began to undo his belt. With a laugh, he said, “Now you’re going to grow up fast, little girlie.”
When he let go of Cherry’s throat to pull down his pants, Poppy struck the back of his head with a large rock she had found nearby. The blow stunned him, and Poppy smashed the grapefruit-sized stone down on his head again with all her might.
He fell off to one side, still halfway on top of Cherry, and Poppy bent down and struck his face with the big rock, causing blood to spurt from his nose and trickle from his mouth. Cherry struggled to get out from under him as Poppy smashed the stone down on his head another five times, each blow harder than the last.
Cherry finally managed to get out from under the now dead man, quickly pulled her pants back on, and jumped to her feet. Poppy dropped the bloody rock beside the corpse, and the two girls fell into each other’s arms, hugging tightly as they broke into tears.
After a moment, Poppy pulled back, and asked, “Are you all right? Did he hurt you? He didn’t—”
“No! He didn’t, thanks to you. It—it all happened so fast.”
“Let’s get out of here!” Poppy said, breathing hard.
Cherry said coolly, “First, we must get rid of the stone.” She picked it up, and asked, “Where are the ciggies? Did you bring them?”
Poppy said, “Yes, but I dropped them when I saw what was happening.”
“Look for them while I get my scarf off of this pig,” Cherry said, as she reached down and pulled the bloody scarf from the man’s neck.
Poppy said, “I’ve found them,” and showed the cigarettes to Cherry.
“Good. Now, we must get rid of all these things. Come on!”
They made their way through the bushes, and took off running across the open field, headed for the small lake at the other end of the park. When they got to the water’s edge, they stopped to catch their breath.
After a moment, Cherry said in a melodramatic tone that could only come from a preteen girl, “Poppy, my dearest friend, I shall never, ever forget what you have done for me. Ever. We must make a pact that not a living soul shall ever know what has happened here tonight. This will be our secret. ’Til death do us part.”
They put down the things they were carrying, and shook hands to seal the pact. Then Cherry reached down and picked up the bloody stone, and flung it as far out into the lake as she could. They watched the ripples form into rings and move away until the water was almost still again.
Cherry said, “Now we must do something about all this blood that we have on us. We need to find something that we can use to wash—oh no, Poppy! I forgot my knickers! I have to go back and get them. You wait here. No. Go behind that big tree, and wait. I can’t believe I almost left them! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
That said, Cherry flew across the field again, then slowed to a walk as she approached the area that would no longer be her favorite spot in the whole world. She scanned the area to make sure no one was looking, and then stepped off the path, making her way behind the row of hedges. She kept her eyes averted from the grisly corpse, afraid the man might somehow still be alive. Panic overtook her when she couldn’t find her panties, but she quickly calmed down when she saw them several feet away from the dead man’s body.
She made her way out from behind the bushes, made sure she wasn’t seen, and ran back to Poppy, no longer feeling any pain, unaware of her bleeding lip.
Back at the lake’s edge, Cherry bent down and soaked the cotton knickers in the cold water. Poppy came over from behind the big tree, and gently took them from her.
Poppy tenderly washed the blood from Cherry’s face, and then bent down to rinse the panties in the water. She twisted them dry, then stood and handed them to Cherry, who soaked them in the water and washed Poppy in the same manner, taking special care with Poppy’s bloody hands.
After they were as clean as they could get, they hugged each other tightly for a full minute, then ran to their homes without another word. Each made it home without being discovered, and the sun rising found them wide awake in their beds.
A year later to the day, Poppy was diagnosed with leukemia.
53
AFTER SHE FINISHED TELLING ME HOW POPPY HAD SAVED HER FROM certain rape and possibly being murdered, Cherry was quiet for a moment. She started to speak, then closed her mouth and stared out to sea. I was surprised by her story, and wanted her to finish it, but waited until she was ready to continue.
Finally, she said, “When Poppy was diagnosed, my world felt as if it were closing in on me, and I was far more scared than she ever was. I convinced myself that she would never have gotten sick if not for me. So you can see that I feel a terrible sense of guilt over what happened that dreadful night.”
I took hold of her arm, and said, “Wait a minute. You don’t mean … surely you don’t think that you being attacked was the reason Poppy came down with leukemia?”
With a weak smile, she said, “At thirteen, I was convinced it was the reason. As the years have gone by, I’m a little less sure.”
I shook my head, and said, “Let me tell you somethin’, kiddo. It is not the reason, and this will be the last year you ever feel that way. And that’s an official order.”
Cherry looked lost in thought, but tried to smile.
She said, “When Poppy was in hospital the last two months of her life, I visited her most every day, and always brought her a yellow tea rose. They were her favorite, and now they’re my favorite, too. Poppy had read somewhere that a tea rose means ‘I’ll remember always’ in the language of flowers. Nothing could have been more true, and still is to this day.”
I said, “Havin’ a friend like Poppy is the best thing in the world, and I know you miss her every single day that goes by. You were both very lucky to have found each other at such a young age, and I gotta tell ya, it’s amazing that she saved your life the way she did.” I paused for a moment, then said, “There’s one thing that I wanna know, probably because I’m a cop. You said y’all met later to get rid of the clothes? How’d you do that?”
“We both managed to hide them that night, in the back of our closets. Our maids never did more than hang up our clothes unless it was absolutely necessary; they had enough to do around the house without worrying about our closets. Poppy and I met that afternoon, and threw the clothes into a big trash receptacle at a nearby construction site.”
“Didn’t your parents wonder what happened to them?”
Cherry replied, “Heavens, no. We both had so many clothes they simply weren’t missed. Nothing was ever said about them a’tall. There was always a clothing drive at school or church, and we both frequently donated all sorts of clothes.”
“Man, if I had lost a coat, I woulda been in big trouble. We weren’t poor, but we sure weren’t rich, either.”
“I guess that was a perk of being a rich kid,” Cherry said.
“What about your bloody lip?”
“Easily explained. Children’s games.”
I asked, “Was the killing of a man in the park big news?”
“Oh, my, yes. In St. John’s Wood? A man found bludgeoned to death with his trousers half off? Everyone was appalled. It was the biggest news in London for a week or more. I remember my parents talking about it over breakfast, lunch, and dinner for several days. No one could figure out what had happened to the—gentleman. There was great speculation as to why he was killed, and by whom. It was so strange to be in the middle of something like that, and
be one of the only people who knew the truth.”
“Hmmm,” I said. “Sounds kinda familiar.”
“I’ve been thinking the exact thing since all this madness began. I’ve wanted to tell you about that night since my current troubles became news.”
“Another question: Who was the guy who attacked you?”
“He was a doctor who was going through a divorce, and was about to lose everything. His home, his family. The family were living in their home near the park, and he’d moved out and taken a flat in the neighborhood. His wife told the police he had been threatening suicide, and that’s probably why he was out walking so late that night. Trying to forget his troubles and figure out what to do next. Anyway, that’s what I’ve never told anyone. That’s what I’ve been holding in for all these years,” she said, and sighed deeply.
“Well, you’ve told me now, and I’m glad you did. Your secret’s safe with me.”
She nodded and looked me in the eyes. “I know it is, and thank you, Cooper.”
She was silent again for a moment, then said, “Speaking of secrets, there’s more. Only my closest friends and family know what I’m about to tell you.”
She looked at her hands for a moment, then asked, “Remember the other night when we were in my bed, and I told you I’d let you in on a secret when I knew you better?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. You mean there’s another secret?”
“Yes. I didn’t tell you the complete story. Poppy and I made more than one pact that night.” She paused once more, and closed her eyes.
After another few moments went by silently, I asked, “Are you gonna tell me, or what?”
Cherry said, “The second pact we made that night was also ’til death do us part, so I guess I’m free to tell someone now. And I think Poppy would approve of me telling you. In fact, I’m sure of it.”
“That’s a nice thought. I hope she wouldn’t mind.”
She said, “After what almost happened to me that dreadful night, Poppy and I swore to each other that we would never make love until we were married to the man of our dreams.”
I thought about that for a moment, then asked, “You mean … ?”
“Yes,” she said. “That world-famous sex symbol—Cherry Page, the British Marilyn Monroe—is a virgin.”
54
NEAL WAS SEATED AT HIS DESK AT FEAGIN INVESTIGATIONS, TALKING ON the phone with Susan, when a potential client walked into his office and took a seat in the chair in front of his desk.
Neal said into the phone, “I’ll talk to you about it when I get home, someone just came in… . I hope so… . I love you, too.”
He hung up, and asked, “How can I help you?”
“I was shopping for a birthday gift when I noticed your office, and I thought I’d take a chance and see if you could help me with a problem.”
Neal asked, “What’s your problem?”
“Right to the point. I like that. I’ll get right to the point too. I was wondering, do you handle all types of surveillance?”
Neal said, “We can pretty much handle anything that’s legal. What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Actually, I’m just sort of weighing my options. I guess you could say I have my suspicions about my business partner. There are some people who are saying—well, it’s really only secondhand, it may just be gossip, or it might be jealousy among the people who work under my partner. It’s entirely possible that they’re just making up things to try and cause friction in the company. Maybe try and move up through the ranks. Know what I mean?”
Neal smiled, and said, “Unfortunately, I do. I understand completely, maybe even more than you do. I was with the New Orleans Police Department for over fifteen years, nine of them as a homicide detective. I know more than I ever wanted to know about backstabbing, rumors, and false accusations. Especially the kind that are intended to make someone look bad so that another person can look good. So, let me ask you, does your problem center on one individual in particular?”
“Yes. And now that I think about it, I’m not sure if ‘surveillance’ is the right term for what I need. Maybe what I’m looking for is someone who could—what’s the word—infiltrate the situation. Someone I could actually hire. Well, not actually hire, but put them on the payroll for appearances’ sake. A person who could come in and help keep an eye on my bad apple. Be my eyes and ears, that sort of thing.”
Neal sat back in his chair, and said, “We’re not really set up for that kind of covert action just yet. To tell you the truth, I’m new to the business. I just opened this office recently. So far, we’ve been doing mostly mundane investigative work. Surveillance of suspected cheating spouses mainly, along with serving papers on people, tracking down a couple of deadbeat dads, those kinds of things. I even have one of my guys working a bodyguard job. But what you need, I don’t think we can handle. I hate to turn you away, but, the truth is, we’re just not set up to handle your particular situation at this time. I’m sorry as I can be, but I don’t see how I can help you.”
“I understand, and I appreciate your honesty. Some people might try and fake their way through something like this, just so they could fatten their bank account. It’s refreshing to find someone in your business—well—don’t take this the wrong way, but the impression most people have of private investigators is that they can be a little shady sometimes, if you’ll pardon me saying so.”
Neal chuckled, and said, “I’m aware of that impression, and a small percentage of private investigators are a little shady, and will work outside the law to get the job done. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I just can’t do that.”
“Well, you’re to be commended.” After a pause, “Say. Could you do me a favor?”
Neal replied, “If I can, sure.”
“Would you take an hour or so, at your convenience, of course, and try and find out who I could call to get some help with this? I’d be more than willing to pay for your time, whether you find someone or not. And money is not a problem.”
Neal said, “Sure, I could do that. If I can’t find someone, or point you to someone who can, there won’t be a charge. I’ll know in less than an hour if I can help you. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds wonderful. It really would be such a help, you have no idea.”
They both stood to shake hands, Neal holding on to the desk to keep from falling on his ankle. He said, “Here’s my card. Call me after lunch tomorrow. Around two o’clock.”
“That will be fine. Thank you again for all your help, and good luck with your business. I’ll call tomorrow at two.”
Only seconds later, Joe Don Kendrick walked into Neal’s office, and asked: “Was that a new client I almost bumped into?”
“Could’ve been, if we were into corporate espionage. Think you could pass yourself off as a businessman for a month or so?”
“Let’s see. A businessman, hunh? Naw, I’m not so sure that I’d be good at that. I might be a little too noticeable, size-wise. Besides, I’m not very good at being sneaky. I guess that has to do with my bulk too.”
Neal said, “Yeah, I don’t think stealth is your strong suit. You’re better at knocking things down than going around ’em. Even if we got you a pair of bona fide gumshoes, I don’t think you could creep up on anybody. Actually, I don’t really know if any of us could handle the job; it takes a certain kind of mind-set to pull off the spying stuff. So, what brings you in? I thought you were on cheatin’-husband patrol today.”
Joe Don said, “I was, but I got Brown to take over for me. He needs the extra money, and I need some extra time.”
“What for?”
“Well, I got a call from one of my old Falcon teammates. He was also my college teammate, and we roomed together for the short time I was a pro. There’s a big party for all the single players tonight out at a house in that fancy subdivision, the ‘Country Club of the South.’ You know the area, right?” Joe Don asked.
“Yeah, I know it well,” Neal rep
lied. “Some of the Braves and Falcons live out there, and a few big-time musicians, too. Probably a Hawk or two, as well. Takes a lot of bread to buy a house in that subdivision, if you can even call it a subdivision. It’s more like a little city within the city.”
“I know from personal experience.” Joe Don looked at the floor, as if the memory gave him pause. He looked back at Neal, and continued, “Anyway, one of the young, single Falcons—Quintavius Sanford—just bought a house out there, and he’s throwin’ a big bash. There’s gonna be lotsa food, booze, and probably women. Okay, definitely women, so I really wanna go. Problem is, if I do go, there’s no way I can drive back home tonight in the shape I know I’ll be in, so I wanted to check with you and see if I could take tomorrow off too. Brown says he can do my job with no problem, so I’m just makin’ sure that it’s okay with you.”
Neal said, “It’s fine with me. Just be careful with all those women up there. You’re a big guy, don’t break any of ’em.”
“I won’t,” Joe Don said with a grin.
Neal asked, “Why isn’t this guy havin’ his party on a Friday or Saturday night like everybody else?”
“Well, first of all, he’s not like everybody else when it comes to parties. No player is. During the off-season, players hafta get in as many parties as they can, ’cause once summer comes along, what with working out and practices and preseason games, there’s not a lotta time for partyin’. And second of all, it’s not just a housewarming party, it’s Sanford’s birthday today.”
Neal said, “That all makes sense, I guess. Been a long time, but I remember what it was like to be your age and single. Okay. Well, have a good time.”
“I’m sure I will. Thanks again, boss. And, hey—if you don’t hear from me within forty-eight hours, send an ambulance out there, will ya?”
55
AFTER CHERRY AND I HAD TOLD OUR STORIES, WE WERE BOTH SUDdenly exhausted, and decided to go in and have a nap. If we had been in Atlanta at the Ritz, I would have offered to sleep with her, and hold her—as a friend only, of course—but the thought of Penny coming home unannounced kept that from happening.