Jailbird Detective

by Helen Jacey

‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘Nobody who counts. Just the messenger.’ I was as solid as a waxwork under a hot sun.

  Shimmer opened her purse and calmly took out a gun. She brandished it at me. ‘I said, who the fuck are you?’ She jerked the gun like a finger, beckoning me to the sofa. I put my hands up, walking backwards. ‘Nobody, I swear.’

  I sat down on the distinctly saggy cushion, cursing myself. Was she crazy? Was this the plan? Shoot the messenger? She wouldn’t exactly have shot me in the street, not in front of Old Nosey Parker. I said, ‘My name’s Gina.’

  ‘Gina who?’

  ‘Gina Jones.’

  ‘Gina fucking Jones. Think I’m dumb? You just made that up.’ Shimmer blinked a few times as if she had a twitch. ‘Tell Kaye she can stick it up her fat rat ass.’

  Kaye. I played along.

  ‘All right. I’ll see her later.’

  Shimmer stepped forward. She pushed the gun to my temple. ‘I can make things up, too. There ain’t no Kaye, so who the hell sent you, bitch?’

  The gun felt cold and hard. The barrel could be empty, but maybe not. They’d packed their bags and were running. Leaving my rotting body as a ‘fuck you’ message to whoever – it wasn’t outside the realms of possibility. Lauder and his demands suddenly didn’t seem as pressing as the barrel against my temple.

  The game was up. I croaked hoarsely. ‘Randall Lauder.’

  Shimmer froze for a few seconds. ‘I knew it! Fucking Randy Lauder? How the hell did he find us here?’ Then she craned her neck. ‘Hey, Rhondie! Get down here. We got a visitor.’

  At least she lowered the gun. We stood facing each other, about a foot between us. I didn’t move an inch.

  Footsteps, slow and deliberate, were coming down stairs beyond the inner hall.

  A wisp of a young woman appeared at the door. I recognized her immediately – the girl in the portrait, a decade older. She wore a pinafore dress in a faded tangerine, soft from too many washes, and a smocked gray blouse underneath. Clothes that said she didn’t go out much, or plan to. Her hair was concealed in a faded floral headscarf, tied up with a bow on top.

  Her one luxury item was a gold bangle, engraved. I bet she never took it off.

  Shimmer’s voice went really soft, her hard eyes following suit. ‘You tell anyone about this place, honey?’ She jumped up and helped Rhonda over to a chair.

  ‘No, why would I?’ Rhonda spoke rather slowly as if it was an effort getting the words out. She sat down. She was obviously sick, a gray pallor to her skin. Her dark eyes rested on me with muted suspicion.

  ‘This is Gina, or so she reckons,’ said Shimmer. She stroked Rhonda’s head, turning to me. ‘That sonofabitch.’ Shimmer glared at me. ‘How did that shady asshole find us?’

  I shook my head. ‘You said it. Guy moves in mysterious ways.’

  ‘Must have tailed us here.’ Shimmer glanced at Rhonda. ‘Hear that, Rhondie? Fucking Lauder. Jeez!’ Worry crumpled her features for an instant. It didn’t last long before she sneered at me. ‘So who the fuck are you?’

  ‘I’m his personal errand-girl, in return for him turning a blind eye. Fact is, I know nothing about you girls. Never knew you existed till yesterday.’

  This perked Shimmer up slightly. She and Rhonda exchanged a glance. ‘What’s he got over you?’

  ‘Something to do with bogus lettuce.’

  ‘So, you’re a copycat.’ Shimmer looked impressed. ‘Where you from?’ My accent was letting me down again. I hoped I could sound more convincing. Sailors, both black and white, on the boat over, got a kick out of a well-to-do widow getting down and dirty with Yank lingo. Little did they know I had spent my formative years in the gutter, a South London one. I swallowed the American equivalents like gravy. ‘Don’t stay in any place too long. I was up in New York, but cops busted me so I blew. Month ago. I was sniffing the air down here, Lauder made me, simple as that.’ It was a loose interpretation of the truth.

  Shimmer took it all in but gave nothing away. Rhonda folded her arms and leant her head back. Even sitting down looked like it wiped her out.

  I continued. ‘Lauder was clear. Don’t pay back whoever by midday tomorrow, you’re in big trouble, and so am I.’ I pulled a really worried face. It wasn’t hard.

  ‘Then you got a problem. We ain’t ever payin’ anyone back. Cos we don’t owe nobody nothing!’

  Checkmate.

  I looked at her. ‘You know what? Maybe we can help each other.’

  Shimmer’s eyes narrowed. ‘You listening? You’re the only one who’s screwed.’

  ‘Just hear me out.’

  30

  For all his sharpness on the job, Lauder had yet to learn women could form strange alliances when necessity demanded. It wasn’t exactly sisterhood, more like pragmatism. Lauder would never have seen it coming that an ex-con like me and a hard nut like Shimmer would collaborate to work the system to our advantage. He had either underrated me, overrated his power or just didn’t know women. I figured the latter. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here now, in the little dining room of the house, smoking Shimmer’s grass.

  The dining room had a little more going for it, with a heavy mahogany armoire stuffed with china ornaments and crockery, everything cloaked in a layer or two of dust. Some of the furniture was covered in white sheets, lending the place a weird Miss Havisham eeriness. A chessboard with an active game lay at the edge of the dining table. Shimmer and I sat at the other end. I peered at it. The queen was vulnerable, but I wouldn’t point it out.

  ‘You play?’ Shimmer asked. ‘Course you do. I’ve done time and I know a jailbird when I see one. How long?’

  ‘Long enough.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to shoot you or nothing. Just needed to know. You ain’t bluffin’. I know when someone’s scared shitless, too.’ She laughed pitilessly.

  ‘I didn’t know then we were birds of a feather,’ I said. Shimmer seemed to like this and smiled at me.

  Rhonda entered holding a tray with a coffee pot and china cups and saucers. A very dainty load. Three streetwise ladies sitting down to tea.

  We watched as Rhonda lowered the tray onto the table. Shimmer gave her a reassuring look. ‘Thank you, angel. How about some of those peanut cookies for our visitor?’

  ‘You want cookies?’ Rhonda asked me, doubtfully.

  ‘I’m good…’ I began to say, but Shimmer’s sharp look silenced me.

  Rhonda shuffled out of the room. Shimmer frowned. ‘Might seem like I’m bossing her around but Doc says small errands and stuff will help.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I passed Shimmer the reefer.

  ‘Brain tumor. Quacks say they can cure it but the operation and all the care is gonna set us back.’ She began to explain how they needed to raise the money for the operation which would take place in another city. But my mind was already elsewhere, remembering Gwendoline, my foster mother, who had died of a brain tumor. She had been loaded but all the money in the world couldn’t save her life.

  Shimmer was going on. The house was sold, which would help pay the medical bills and for the relocation. ‘We got tight margins, but we’ll do it. I worked it all out.’ She went on to say the house had belonged to Rhonda’s granny and she had given it to her. Then after the operation, Rhonda would be able to study law, and Shimmer would set up her own accountancy business. ‘We’ll be straight as a die.’

  She was equally forthcoming about their present predicament. They had fled the clutches of a tyrant of a boss, a mean bitch called Reba T., who ran a string of nightclubs. Shimmer had been the bookkeeper and Rhonda was a waitress at one of the clubs. They’d fallen in love. Lauder was a regular at the same club, a strip club with poker tables. The problem was Shimmer had fallen out numerous times with the boss lady over money; she had a habit of underpaying her staff with dubious deductions every month for so-called misdemeanors. So Shimmer took it upon herself to pay herself and Rhonda back. ‘Cooked her books, all right.’

  ‘Doe
s Lauder know about Rhonda?’

  Shimmer nodded. ‘Yeah, heartless asshole.’

  ‘How much you skim?’

  ‘Two thousand bucks.’ She said this with defiant pride. ‘Everything she owed me plus interest, and a little hush money on top. Knew she’d catch on, just as soon as we didn’t show up again.’

  ‘Hush money?’

  She nodded, putting a finger to her lips. I whistled, taking mental note of the name Reba T. ‘Well, she’s sure got her talons out for you now.’

  Shimmer mused, looking dreamy. ‘Reba T. wasn’t always bad, not until her husband became a she.’

  That, I had not expected.

  ‘Reba T. got bitter, after Joyce has got her own nightclub. Dyke club.’

  ‘Joyce?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s his…her name now.’

  ‘So Joyce digs the girls?’ Maybe that was why Reba T. got miffed. Husband turns woman turns lesbian? Maybe she’d been traded in for a younger model.

  ‘That’s Joyce’s business.’ Shimmer was surprisingly loyal.

  ‘So Lauder works for your boss?’ I puffed again.

  ‘Ex-boss. Who knows who’s in whose pocket? She’s got her fingers in all kinds of pies. Lauder could get a slice of the action to keep his mouth shut. Reba T.’s place was never busted in the five years I worked there. Maybe thanks to you-know-who.’

  I whistled again, sucked into the intrigue. I wanted her to ramble on but at that moment Rhonda returned with a plate heaped with chunky golden cookies. They smelled delicious. Shimmer smiled. ‘That’s my girl.’ She took the plate and gave Rhonda a kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t just a kiss. Rhonda broke into a sunny, open smile, as she plucked the joint dangling from Shimmer’s mouth. She spoke slowly. ‘Quit partying. Got your meeting, remember? Need all your smarts with that guy.’ Rhonda carefully handed the joint to me. ‘Don’t give it back to her.’

  Shimmer laughed. ‘OK, you know what’s good for me.’

  At the door, Rhonda turned to address me. ‘She takes care of me real good and it ain’t easy for her.’

  Shimmer pulled a hangdog expression, looking up at Rhonda with big eyes, and a pouty mouth. ‘Ooh. Nothing’s too much for my Rhondie. I love takin’ care of you, honey.’ They blew each other kisses.

  That’s what love must be, then. Being able to make a fool of yourself without feeling like a fool.

  I’d never been like that with anyone, and the odds were I never would. Billy and I had never doted on each other. No canoodling and silly fun. He never let his guard down, never looked like a fool for love. I would get drunk and have a good time, but he never joined in. He’d just stand there with that expression that I later decided was indulgent, like a protective daddy. As the years went by, he didn’t even show that.

  Shimmer got up and dug a bottle out of the dresser. ‘Want a chaser with your cookie while you tell me your proposition?’

  ‘Sure.’ The whole errand had gone to pot and liquor on top wouldn’t hurt.

  She pulled out two tumblers and a bottle of scotch, pouring it generously into each glass. Shimmer handed me a glass and sat down opposite me. I took a long slug. I said, ‘When you don’t return tomorrow, I can throw him off your scent.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’ll say you’re real sorry. You messed up. You’ll pay all the dough back. You want to come back but it has to be the weekend. You’ll be out of town for a wedding, a funeral, whatever. Important family business. I can say some place far away you’ll never go to. I can buy you two days like that.’

  Shimmer considered this. ‘Okay. Here’s the thing. We are leaving this dump tomorrow. Like I said, sold up – lock, stock and barrel. We’ll be renting someplace else Randall Lauder don’t know about.’

  The smoke created a thick aromatic haze between us.

  I said, ‘Lauder is a sly rat. Found you once, he can find you again. Best you leave it to me to throw him off the trail.’

  The cookies looked more enticing by the minute. I picked one up and bit into it. It was crisp on the outside and buttery. The chopped peanuts gave a good crunch. Now I was buzzing and I could eat the whole plate.

  Shimmer’s voice burst through my cookie reverie. She was saying, ‘Don’t see how any of this helps you.’

  I swallowed. ‘You can return the favor. I want dirt on Lauder.’

  Shimmer sniggered. ‘Something for a rainy day, huh? All right. Well, his fiancée is some high-class piece of ass, lives in Hancock Park. Society pages type. Rich daddy, who owns the city water board or something like that. Now, Lauder wants to go up in the world, so he’s got the right girl. But some things he just can’t give up. Like one of the girls at Reba T.’s club. He’s been with her for years. Now, the fiancée is a virgin and saving herself.’

  ‘Who said?’

  ‘His girl at the club, Lauder must have told her.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  Shimmer raised a brow. ‘Don’t be greedy. I just gave you a real juicy morsel.’

  Her gossip rang true. Lauder and his desire to rise through the ranks, dressed up with his nice tailored suits and snazzy silk ties. A top job, a perfect wife, leagues above him on the society ladder. She was just a step up to the top of the promotion ladder in the LAPD. One word to the grand family about the mistress would scupper his plans, but without a name it was hardly rock-solid leverage. Getting her name would be next on my to-do list.

  I said, ‘Let’s stay in touch. I’d like to find out how Rhonda’s doing.’ Shimmer could be a slow burner. Eventually she’d give up more if I really earned her trust.

  ‘You’re sweet, but no dice. This is where it ends, cookie.’

  I’d pushed it too far. But I was glad she was doing her own thing, helping her lover get medical help. Their new life was their business.

  Then she surprised me. ‘You know what? I dig you, bird of a feather. Leave a message with Joyce, with your number. Maybe I’ll call you.’ She suddenly looked at her watch. ‘Shoot. I gotta run. She opened her purse, took out a lipstick and applied some without a mirror. She fluffed her curls and batted her eyelashes. ‘How do I look?’

  ‘Elegant.’

  She grinned, ruining the look with a coy pose that didn’t suit her. ‘That’s the big idea.’

  ‘What’s the gig?’ I asked.

  Shimmer looked at me. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  I laughed. ‘Guess I don’t, really.’

  I had a card up my sleeve for sure, but one wasn’t enough.

  The booze and the smoke were working their magic, emboldening me. I could handle that creep Lauder till I got more. I would have to bluff my way out of failing my first mission, while I gathered more dirt on him.

  I did what most smart people do when faced with a challenging situation. Relit the reefer and took a long drag.

  31

  The early evening light was deep lavender, with a vast orange button, the sun, gently bouncing towards the horizon. The colors reminded me of Dede’s Dedeaux’s outfit, the last one I’d seen her in. Horns from frustrated drivers mingled with the cries of news sellers. The traffic was snarled up so I was glad to walk, the hard edges of life rubbed off by overindulgence.

  I had a night to kill before Lauder would be back, angry at my failure. It seemed like an eternity. I didn’t want to hurry back to my mustard bedroom.

  Dusk fell fast. The streetlights glowed, shopkeepers pulled down shutters and in the bars, bartenders switched on low table lamps. I still didn’t know the city but I liked it. I liked it a lot. You could be insignificant and invisible here.

  And maybe just one day, I could settle down here, in my own place. Or was that just a pipe dream?

  I went to light a cigarette, only to realize I had left my matches at Shimmer’s place.

  In the distance, a short and stocky man was slowly ambling with a small fluffy dog on a lead. I caught up with them as the dog sniffed around a garbage bin. The man was looking into the night sky, lost in his dreams. I coughed. ‘Go
t a light, sir?’

  He turned. He was mid-fifties, with thick, bottle-bottom spectacles that gave him an unfair advantage. He could see out but no one could see in. He held the dog lead in one hand, a flask of something in the other. Booze had permanently bloated his features, ageing him prematurely. An expensive-looking fountain pen stuck out of his jacket pocket.

  ‘Why, certainly, madam,’ he said, rummaging for a lighter in his pocket. He found one. I lit up as he cupped the flame. I leant in, inhaling. ‘Thanks.’ He reeked of strong spirit. I could imagine us both igniting if the flame got too close.

  ‘Fine evening,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ The mutt jerkily sniffed around the trash. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Her. Veronica. My wife named her.’

  ‘Good name for a dog.’

  ‘Darned beast doesn’t even respond to it. Not when I say it, anyways. Have to keep the damn thing on a leash. My life wouldn’t be worth living if I lost it. Now if I got lost, my wife would throw a party.’

  I grinned. It was a relief to be having an inane conversation with a stranger. He seemed harmless enough and quite eccentric.

  He was tutting. ‘Forgive my crass blathering. Don’t get out enough, so when I do see people, the verbal runs ensue.’ He smiled. ‘Troy. How do you do?’ He tucked the flask under the arm with the lead and held out his hand. I took it. It was warm, a little sweaty.