Pseudonym

by Neal Penn

  This case was like that damn puzzle. The key to the puzzle was to find the question that either of the guards, the liar or the saint, would answer the same. But what the hell was the key to this case? He had a vague, unsettling feeling about the whole thing. It wasn’t making any sense, and what would happen when whoever was involved got tired of waiting for Cheech and Chong to make something happen?

  On the bright side, he got to be with Noelle, got to knock her books down again.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  “Well, I’m just so pleased to meet you, Mr. Twill.” The girl’s eyes were wide, and her smile was so genuine. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that – well, nobody heterosexual, anyway. “I just love the realism. The way you make the scenes come alive is just amazing!” Was she actually batting her eyes at him?

  “That’s very kind, my dear. I’ve worked very hard on them.” He signaled for Drew. “Would you like another drink? Also, how about some bad, cheap bar food?” She giggled at him like a schoolgirl. “Seriously, this place has the best bad food around.”

  “That’s very kind, Mr. Twill, but—”

  “Please, call me Tommy.” Drew arrived, and Tommy ordered another beer and a plate of mixed appetizers. “Did you want that drink?”

  “Oh, but you’ve already bought one for me…okay, just one more, but that’s my limit.” Was she looking a bit flushed? Was she actually attracted to him? Drew left and she smiled at him again. “Why ‘Tommy’? Is that your middle name?”

  “No, no. Lester Twill is a pen name. Tommy is my real name. I write a lot of books, but who would want to read thrillers from a guy who writes romance books or children’s books?” He debated adding hardcore erotica but decided against it. “It would be kind of like seeing a sexy novel with Dr. Seuss as the author.”

  “Oh, I see.” Drew arrived, and Noelle took a small sip of the new drink, a wine spritzer as it turned out. “I guess that makes sense.” She didn’t bother to mention Seuss’ 1937 book about seven naked Lady Godivas. “So you’re pretty smart with marketing, too. I think it’s …” She paused while Drew set a plate of appetizers between them. Tommy picked up a mozzarella stick and looked at her expectantly. She felt him looking at her and finally took a piece of celery from among the chicken wings. “I think it’s just wonderful that your books have done so well.”

  “That’s very sweet of you.”

  The mozzarella burned his tongue, and he sputtered a bit. But the girl was beside him instantly with a glass of water and a napkin. Jesus, she really does like me.

  When the excitement was over and she sat back down, he smiled at her – well, leered really. But he caught himself and rearranged his face to something milder. He wasn’t sure if she saw, but she smiled at him. Was there a bit of spice in the smile as well? Her eyebrow was raised, slightly, but noticeably.

  “Tell me, Mr. … I mean, Tommy. Tell me, Tommy. Why do you use somebody else’s picture on your book? Are you using your picture for one of the other pen names? You look a whole lot better than the picture you used.”

  He almost choked. Okay, something was wrong here. Then he felt her hand on his. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’ve offended you. I just mean that the man in the picture looks so strange, like he’s hollow inside. You look so different, so full of life.” She looked really remorseful. “I was really relieved to see you here. I was a little worried about those eyes, like I’d be hurt or something.”

  You have no idea, baby. “I understand. Uh …” What the hell? Go for broke, right? “I wonder if you’d like to see where I am with my next book. My home is only about a mile away.”

  Tommy watched her face fall. Nice move, dumbass. He felt foolish and stupid, like his high school days whenever he got up the courage to ask a girl to a dance.

  “Oh, Tommy. I would really like to do that, but I have to meet a friend in a little while.” Sure you do. “I won’t be finished for about an hour and a half, and I’m sure with all the writing you have to do you won’t want to wait up for me.” What? Wait up? “I wouldn’t be able to come by until midnight or so.” She looked downhearted. Tommy felt his heart beating. Like a racehorse running a quarter-mile it knows it will win.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “I would be happy to wait up for you, Noelle. I’ll be happy to stay up all night.”

  She took his card, bright smile on her face. “Oh, Tommy. I can’t wait to see you later. I’m going to run out right now and try to get through my other thing as quick as I can!”

  She left. He watched her go and stared at her ass as she left the bar. A girl he didn’t have to pay for … maybe he would finish that book.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  She really was beautiful. God, has it been that long? He realized he hardly knew her, but on the same token, she knew him better than just about anyone else did. Hell, Gladys knew things that he never told his wife, never would tell his wife if she were still alive. She knew more about his life than anyone else, maybe more than he knew about himself.

  “Would you allow me to order for you, Gladys?” He felt a little insecure, a little like a first date.

  “That would be very nice.”

  He smiled at her, and when the waiter arrived, he ordered mussels with lemongrass for an appetizer. “I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks, and for the lady …” He suddenly realized he had no idea what Gladys drank.

  She rescued him. “May I have a cosmopolitan, please?”

  The waiter nodded and started to leave. He stopped him. “Let’s have a dozen oysters on the half shell as well.” The waiter smiled, wrote it down, and left.

  She smiled at him when he returned his gaze to her. “Uh, Gladys, I really appreciate you coming with me tonight, I …”

  “What do you say we don’t worry too much about the small talk? I’m so happy to spend this time with you and you don’t have to worry about what to say.” She grew silent as the waiter arrived with the oysters on ice. “I keep your calendar, sir. I know you haven’t had a date, at least a real social date, since Marie passed away. You were married forever before that. You don’t have to try to remember what to say or what to do.”

  “Thank you, Gladys.” He took an oyster, added horseradish, and let it slide from the shell into his mouth. “This business with Sage has me thinking.” She inclined her head, and he quickly added, “I don’t want to talk about work. I just mean that the new crisis is making me realize that my business is all about moving from one to another – from one crisis to another, I mean. I just realized how much my wife kept me sane, and how much you keep me sane.” He felt foolish, stupid even. “Am I …I just mean…”

  “I can’t imagine how all of this must impact you, sir.” She smiled as she took an oyster for herself and primly ate it. “But I do know that I’ve been honored to work for you and with you for all of these years. I’m very happy …” She paused for a moment, and her eyes seemed to shine. “I’m very happy to see you thinking about yourself for a change.”

  “I, um … I would like to order the chateaubriand, if you would enjoy it. That, and a nice merlot. I think they have a Petrus here.” He waved for the waiter, who came over promptly. “Do you have Petrus ’98 or ’99, the merlot, I mean?”

  The waiter nodded, “We have both, sir.”

  “Bring the ’98, then.” The waiter’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he nodded and left. “Um, I think the wine will go well with the … uh …”

  Gladys laughed. “Would you relax? I’m still the woman who brings you bourbon and answers your phone. And listen.” She paused, her eyes steady on his.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t need a sixteen hundred dollar bottle of wine to be impressed by you. You’ve spent the better part of twenty years impressing me.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  “God, Roddie! The floor of this car is like a recycling center. How much did you drink?” Noelle swept the floor of the car with her feet, and the bottles clanked and rattled. Finally
, she picked up the toiletries bag and started placing the empty bottles inside.

  “You were in there a long time, Elle.” He fumbled for his keys, but she snatched them from his hand.

  “Get out and come over to this side. I’m driving.” She opened the door and stepped out. He sighed, shook his head, and finally opened the door to step out as well. The air was cool, and he sidestepped Noelle and went to the passenger side. He stepped into the passenger seat just as Noelle was starting the car and pulled a full bottle from the bag. Canadian.

  He’d have a hell of a headache in the morning the way he was mixing everything, but who cared?

  “So how did it go in there? Did you find him?” Noelle pulled away from the curb as he asked the question, nodding her head but not speaking. “Noelle?”

  “Just thinking. You’re really not drunk, are you?” She turned left, on her way back to the hotel.

  “It depends if you mean drunk like buzzed or drunk like impaired. I can put a whole lot more away than I did and still walk a straight line. This is more like the battle starting to turn, alcohol against meal; and the alcohol is beginning to turn the tide.” He drained the little shot bottle and carefully put the empty back into the toiletries bag.

  “So, I met Lester Twill – or rather Tommy Norwood.” A fast food drive through was open up ahead, and she pulled into it. “Just getting a quick soda.” She clarified with a sidelong glance. Then: “I might be wrong. He didn’t act like it was real at all. So, anyway, I’m going back to his house tonight.”

  “What?” Crane could feel his heart start to beat. “Who is this guy? You don’t know anything about him. Why would you go to his house on …” He trailed off. He was going to say something about first dates, but he was thankfully able to resist the urge and to realize how idiotic the statement would have been. “On an errand that could be dangerous.”

  “Oh, he seems nice, Roddie. I’m not worried about him. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  “Look, Noelle, I—”

  “Seriously, Roddie. He was charming and pleasant; I think it will be productive.”

  “Noelle, I…” Oh, shit. “Funny, Elle. Really funny.” She was laughing, teasing him. “Did you get those jokes out of some kind of classic literature? Maybe old books on human nature? Freud, Jung, whoever the hell else wrote old psychiatry?” He shook his head, but she didn’t stop laughing. “All right, all right. So what did you really learn?”

  “I really do have a date with him at midnight.” She was at the order booth and ordered a diet soda. Crane declined when she offered one to him. “He invited me over to see the progress on his latest book. He wanted me to head right over. I told him I had a prior engagement, but we set it up for later. I figure we could get some strategy figured out before I head back out.”

  “Elle, I really don’t feel good about this case. I’m worried about you meeting with him.”

  “Relax Roddie. The guy’s gigantic, has to use an electric cart to move. You don’t have to worry about Norwood.” She was taking her soda from the window attendant. “If he gets violent, I’ll crawl away from him on my hands and knees. Maybe I’ll blindfold myself to make him feel like he has a chance.”

  “God, Noelle!” She was pulling back out now. “I’m not worried about Norwood. I’m worried about Ozzie and Harriet.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Watch Cap was Watch Cap again; his hat was back on. It was irritating the hell out of the man in the suit. “I don’t get why you have to wear that damn thing. It’s like you to want to advertise yourself as some kind of a hoolihan.” He shook his head. “We ought to be careful, not visible.”

  “Hoolihan? You mean the girl in M.A.S.H.?” Watch Cap had finished loading the magazine on his Desert Eagle and pushed it into the gun. “That was a good show.”

  “What? Are you completely ignorant? It means a thug, a robber, a trouble maker.” Suit sighed. “I don’t why you … Hey wait, how come you watched M.A.S.H. but you didn’t watch the Muppet Show?”

  “My mom sent me the first two seasons on DVD for Christmas. It was a nice present. I like the way the doctors are such smartasses.”

  “Okay, whatever. So look, we got to go over to this guy and get a clear message to Crane.” The two were at the car now. Watch Cap climbed into the passenger side and Suit stepped into the driver’s seat.

  “I thought this was a new job.”

  “Why is it a new job? Crane comes to Minneapolis and now we have to go talk to a guy here. They’ve got to be the same job.” God, this guy. Sometimes he wondered if he should look for a new job. Or at least a new partner.

  “Yeah, but the Poindexter guy didn’t say anything about Crane. He just said we had a job to do, and—”

  “Jesus.” Suit turned the key and the car started. “Would you let me do the thinking? You don’t even know the propeller head’s name. It’s Aiken. This is all about scaring Crane, just like when we tied the girl up. We go over there and we do the same thing to this guy. Eventually, Crane is gonna get the message.”

  “Okay, okay. I just thought—”

  “Stop thinking.”

  They drove in silence for a while, but soon they saw the brownstone at the address the computer geek had given them. There were no lights on. Suit pulled the car over. “You see anybody in there? Any lights?”

  “No, it looks like nobody’s there. What do you want to do?”

  Suit looked at his watch. Then he put the car in gear and started off again. “It’s only about nine. Let’s go get a bite to eat, maybe some ice cream. We’ll get back here later and take care of business.”

  “Let’s go somewhere that has butter pecan.” Watch Cap pulled a cigarette out of a pack in his pocket and lit it.

  “God, you and that stupid flavor. Only old people eat that.” The car pulled into the street and started for a main drive.

  “Hey, I can’t help what I like.”

  Suit shook his head. “Yeah, okay. But let’s get Chinese first. They didn’t have any good food in Maryland. I feel like we didn’t eat for three days.” He thought for a moment. “We’ll come back about midnight. He oughtta be home by then.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Side by side, Crane and Noelle walked into the lobby. They headed to the elevator, but a man in a suit with a bright nametag that identified him as a manager intercepted them. “Are you Mr. Crane, sir?”

  “That’s me.”

  The man looked nervous, like he expected a fight. “Um, sir,” he stammered. “Uh, we have a problem with your room.” The man was shuffling from foot to foot. “Um…”

  “I think we left it pretty clean. Did we leave the faucet on or something?”

  “Oh, no, sir. Not at all. Our problem isn’t with you.” Crane stared at him blankly. “It’s just that it ... well, it appears that someone has broken into your room.”

  “All we have in there is the dog. Is she okay?” Crane was heading to the elevator.

  “She’s still in her crate, sir, but when our housekeeper came by to drop off the complimentary robes and water bottles, she discovered that someone had cleared out the minibar. I just want to assure you that you won’t be charged, and if you have anything missing, we’ll have the police by in the morning to fill out a report.”

  Noelle laughed out loud. Crane smiled. “We had a little party at a friend’s house tonight. I’m afraid I will be paying for all of that. I didn’t want to try to find a liquor store when I don’t know the area.”

  Crane had once followed a woman suspecting of cheating only to find out that her late nights were the result of meetings with contractors and architects to use a surprise inheritance to remodel her basement into a man cave for her husband. He was pretty sure the husband in that instance didn’t look as relieved as the manager.

  “Oh, sir, I’m dreadfully embarrassed. Since you had checked in and then left so quickly, we didn’t think it was … I… um, we’ll get that restocked for you right away.”

  In the eleva
tor, Noelle was still smiling. “Nobody can believe the way you drink. Even you said there was a party.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  The two walked to the room, and Noelle immediately announced she was taking a shower. Crane flipped on the TV, didn’t find anything worth watching, and so he just sat on the bed. Finally, he took the toiletries bag and restocked the few bottles that were left into the minibar.

  As he dropped the empty bottles into the wastebasket, his cellphone rang.

  Ty again. This asshole just doesn’t give up.

  “Do I have to change my number, Ty?”

  “Where the fuck is Noelle, you prick?”

  “Look, Ty, let it go. Noelle is not your property.”

  “Oh, she belongs to Rodney Crane now?”

  “She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself. Stop calling and stop being an idiot.”

  “I’m telling you, Crane, you don’t know who the hell you’re fucking with.”

  “Ty, why are you calling me? Noelle can speak for herself. If she’s not taking your calls, get a clue.” He flipped the phone closed and dropped the last bottles in the wastebasket. When he turned, he saw Noelle standing in front of the bathroom, wrapped in the complimentary hotel robe.

  “Uh, hi.” He felt his cheeks flushing.

  “You’ve got a way with words, Roddie.” She smiled, and he shrugged. “But you might be wrong about one thing. I just might belong to someone.”

  With that, she pulled on the terrycloth rope that held the robe in place and let it fall to the floor.

  Chapter Sixty

  Sage sat in the hotel room. It was really all about risk. If they could finish the book in a week, he’d be in position to disappear. He’d try to get Norwood to go with him, another acceptable risk.

  And if Tommy came along, they’d both live like kings somewhere tropical. If Tommy didn’t, then Sage would have to kill him, find out how to get the cash from future book sales or just let them go.