Jailbird Detective

by Helen Jacey

  ‘You’re darned right there is!’ I’d never seen her angry before, either.

  I gulped. Reba T. could drag Beatty’s business through the mud, or even worse.

  Time to do some explaining.

  Time to jump off the cliff.

  ‘My real name is Jemima Day.’

  Therese breezed in, holding the tray high. The tense atmosphere wiped the smile of her face. She set the tray of drinks down and looked at me. ‘Somebody call for you, Elvira. Barney Einhorn? He says to call him. He is at the office until six. You know where? He did not leave a number.’ Then Therese trotted out as fast as her high heels let her.

  I met Beatty’s eyes. She took one of the glasses and slid it over to me. ‘All right. Give it to me. Fill in all the gaps.’

  So we had reached the stage in the game where it was time to put the cards on the table.

  A lot sooner than either of us desired.

  All the cards.

  I wanted Beatty to know everything. If anyone should hear it all, from me, it was Beatty Falaise, whether she liked the truth or not. Lauder had found me out. He used my past as a punishment, a form of control.

  Beatty had given me a chance, and she deserved a choice in whether to have anything to do with me. It wasn’t fair on her to proceed without her knowing the risk she was taking being connected to me.

  She wouldn’t report me to the police. If she didn’t like what she heard, she would let me walk out of her life and she would forget she ever met me. I could dump the car keys, the keys to the office, the cards back on the desk and walk out of her life. Right then and there, go back to the Astral and just await my fate.

  I took a deep breath and looked at her directly. ‘I was in prison in England, for something I didn’t do. In ’41, I was caught with a stash of guns. I was set up. My boyfriend was a gangster, and I think he was involved somehow. He used me. His name was Billy. I was just a stupid idiot in those days, I didn’t care about anything except buying dresses and getting drunk. So I spent most of the war in jail. Then in May, on VE Day, I jumped probation. I tracked Billy down, to get some kind of payback. I’d never talked, never dumped him in it. When I got there, he was already in some other trouble. Italian mobsters killed him before he spilled the beans. I shot them dead. It was them or me. Then I found a fake US passport in my name with Billy’s stuff. So he kind of came through for me. Guilt, perhaps.’

  A neat summary. But as I recounted it, it sounded crazy. Was this really my life? Four and a half years of inertia and despair followed by four and half months of a high-risk rollercoaster. Who the hell was I?

  Beatty’s face was back in mask mode. ‘So you’re British?’

  ‘No. Yes. I mean, I was born on a boat, half-way across the Atlantic. I don’t know what that makes me. My father was apparently American.’ I went on. ‘After I fled, I managed to get to L.A. with the counterfeit American passport. I had some delusion I could start over. Things were working out until I did a favor for a new pal who’d got herself in trouble. She was posing for sleazy portraits. Elmore Caziel was the photographer. He had drugged my friend and taken shots of her. Pornographic shots. I thought I could destroy them. I pretended to be desperate for a break and he bought it. While I was there, I set Caziel’s joint on fire. He got away, but I wasn’t so lucky. A cop caught me, a Vice Squad cop. Turns out he and another guy had the place under surveillance. To cut a long story short, the cop found out everything about me. He discovered I had a criminal record in England, that I’d jumped probation and was wanted for killing the mobsters. He offered me a deal. If I did secret errands for him, he wouldn’t send me back to England.’

  ‘What’s the cop’s name?’

  Naming Lauder was terrifying.

  All the cards.

  I had to do it. I took a deep breath. ‘Randall Lauder.’

  Beatty seemed unmoved. I rushed on. Told her about Lauder and Clarence Johnson and that neither of them knew about my arrangement with Beatty, or that I was looking into Rhonda’s disappearance.

  Beatty raised a brow and took a slug of brandy.

  ‘I made friends with Shimmer and Rhonda kind of behind Lauder’s back. Then Rhonda disappeared, and her neighbor asked me to help find her. So I came to you.’

  I bet she regretted that day. Beatty nodded for me to go on.

  ‘Shimmer told me Lauder is a regular at Reba T.’s club, and he has a mistress all the while he’s engaged to a socialite. Maybe true, maybe not. Anyhow, after I’d been to Joyce’s, I went to see Olive Harjo.’

  ‘Darlene’s girlfriend.’

  ‘Yes. She told me Darlene was supposed to sign a contract the day she died, but she never made it to the lawyer’s office. She and Frank Acker drove to The Flamayon Hotel instead, and took an overdose.’

  I stopped.

  ‘What kind of contract?’

  ‘Nondisclosure. For a movie. Tatiana Spark… I guess you know…?’ I tailed off.

  ‘Oh, yeah. I’m old enough to know who Tatiana Spark is.’ She sounded wry but no smile came with it.

  ‘Tatiana wanted Darlene to tell Tatiana’s true life story, the facts that nobody knows. And Olive Harjo was convinced Otto Heymann had his daughter killed, to kill the movie, she said. So I paid the lawyer a visit, just to see what he knew. Olive had given me his name. I pretended to be a go-between for someone who might make the film now Darlene was dead. This lawyer told me Darlene was supposed to pick him up from his office, then they’d go to Spark’s. She never showed.’

  ‘Did you believe him?’

  I shrugged. ‘Nice guy. Seemed genuine. He said he knew nothing about the storyline, that they hadn’t even decided on a writer. Thing is, Olive had already mentioned one to me. Martell Grainger. He also said that Tatiana Spark was traumatized now, that it was all over. So I meet Martell Grainger. She was, well, kind of snooty about the lawyer, like she knew far more than him. She’s excited, knows Tatiana Spark. She’s got an ambition to write a different kind of movie from her usual…’

  ‘..Garbage.’ Beatty finished the sentence for me, refilling her glass. ‘Who’s the attorney?’

  ‘Frederick Lyntner. He’s got an office Downtown.’

  Beatty just nodded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Neither Lyntner or Martell gave me the feeling they think Darlene’s death was suspicious. So maybe it’s all been one big waste of time. Maybe Rhonda is out there somewhere. Maybe we should just wish her luck.’

  Beatty now leant back, arms folded. I had to give it to her, calm in a crisis. She finally spoke.

  ‘Where’s the rest of your family? In England?’

  ‘My mother was English. We spent the first six years of my life in California. Violet, my mother, was searching for my father, a GI in the First World War. Then she gave up. We moved back to England and then I was told she was dead. I grew up in children’s homes. I ran away. I got in trouble with the law. Petty stuff, you know the stuff I mean. Then I was fostered by somebody nice, a decent woman. She educated me. Things were looking up until she died and I was stupid enough to hook up with a South London gangster.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘You haven’t told me how you know Caziel is dead.’

  I stared at her. No, I hadn’t. I took a sip of brandy.

  ‘Clarence Johnson is trying to save his friend from death row. The guy was framed for killing Lauder’s partner, Stan Perrin, by a bent cop who was working with Caziel, profiting from the porn pictures.’

  Beatty glared at me. ‘I read about Perrin’s murder. Go on.’

  I recounted Clarence’s version of events and why they were watching Caziel in the first place; to get evidence to link Caziel and Fraser. I described how Lauder took me to the warehouse, where I discovered Caziel’s dead body. ‘Their plan was to get Caziel to rat on Fraser, using me somehow. Now he’s dead, there’s no chance for justice.’

  I got Clarence’s card out of my purse and slid it over the desk. Beatty picked it up. ‘A school teacher. Working und
ercover with a cop? What are they – buddies?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ I pulled out the cream feather, handing it to Beatty. ‘I found this at the warehouse. It’s the same as the ones Reba T.’s got around her neck. She could be lying, or maybe she visited the place before he was killed.’

  Beatty leant over the desk and took the feather. She examined it, pulling her glasses down her nose.

  ‘There’s something else.’ Now for the punch line.

  ‘More?’ Beatty glared at me.

  ‘Clarence made me feel guilty, said Caziel got away because I burned down the studio. So I’ve gotten involved with that, too.’ I told her all about my appointment with Jim Fraser, and how I’d given him an ultimatum, tricking him into thinking Caziel had squealed.

  ‘I could only get to Fraser because Lauder is away. He’d been watching him like a hawk.’

  Beatty took another slug of booze and leant back. Her eyes were not exactly warm. ‘Let me get this straight. The British police want you. The Italian Mob in London wants you. A bent cop wants you dead and another one controls you. A teacher has used you, and now a sleazy nightclub owner is suspicious about you.’

  I nodded. I had no words.

  ‘I figured you had a past, but jeez. You couldn’t make this saga up. And you walk in here, dragging your crap into my business. Guess you thought I was an old fat sucker?’

  We met each other’s eyes. I looked away first. ‘I just wanted a fresh start. Helping my friend after Caziel humiliated her was part of that, helping out someone who’d treated me nice. Later, with Shimmer and Rhonda, I felt just like them. Girls without a hope in hell. But I can’t go on anymore. Not with Reba T. walking in and making threats.’

  I stood up. I knew what I would do. Go. ‘I’m done. Now that bitch is onto me, Lauder could find out in no time I’m working with you. You don’t need the whole LAPD thinking you’ve been aiding and abetting a wanted felon. And Jim Fraser wants my blood, and he’s the law until they bring him down, which, thanks to me, they can’t. The longer you spend in my company, the worse it could be for you.’

  I took out the car keys, the office keys and the box of cards from my purse, and pushed them across the desk. ‘You’re right. I duped you. You thought I had something to offer. I do, it’s called a nightmare.’

  I couldn’t look her in the eye. I got up and headed for the door.

  ‘And I thought you had gumption.’

  I froze. Then I turned. Beatty shot me a look. ‘Get back over here and sit your sorry ass back down.’

  58

  ‘True. I should let you walk out of here. That bitch is right. You got a pair on you. You should be lying low for the rest of your life, and here you are, running around, trying to make amends but just failing at that, right?’

  I was sitting back down. I felt ashamed and nervous, an odd combination. I couldn’t look her in the eye. Was she mad?

  You can walk out of here any minute.

  She went on. ‘Let’s say this Lauder gets wind of your secret business, and he pays me a visit. So I play the dupe. Not my style, but that’s it. You just tricked me into thinking you were a do-gooder, helping an old lady. I had a vacancy, you said the right things, I offered you the job. You got a record for impersonation, so they’ll believe you hoodwinked an old biddy like me. I don’t have a clue about your past. We never had this conversation. That ease your conscience?’

  ‘Yes, a lot.’ I fiddled with the buckle on Violet’s purse.

  ‘Good. Because it saves my bacon. So that’s how we’ll play it from now.’

  ‘But I’m trouble. Why don’t you take the chance to be rid of me?’

  ‘A good question. Selfish motives, I guess. You walk out and I find out you’ve been mown down or shipped back to hang…’

  I shuddered, my hand instinctively going to my neck.

  Breathe!

  I grabbed my glass and knocked the dregs back. Beatty watched me. ‘I’m looking forward to a nice retirement, and visions of your death ain’t going to ruin it for me, young lady. Lesson number four. Two brains are better than one, and we got a whole bunch of problems to solve. Saving your sorry ass of a life is somewhere near the top of the list.’

  She twisted the emotional knife. ‘Now the slate’s clean, no more surprises. That’s an order. You mess up, conceal anything from me, I’ll call up this Lauder guy myself.’

  I nodded. I’d jumped off the cliff, and I could see the sea below. It could save me or drown me.

  ‘You involved with anyone else, other than this stranglehold the Vice Squad cop has got you in? Lover or two stashed away? Male or female, I don’t judge. I want whole story.’

  ‘I slept with a film producer. A one-night thing. He knows nothing about me.’

  And there was Lena. But she’s gone, too, like everyone else.

  A plume of smoke told me she was puffing on her pipe. ‘Okay. That settles that. Back to business. First, Otto Heymann did not kill his daughter. He’s hard as nails and old too, and in my experience age don’t soften anybody, but him doing her in is crazy talk. Grief is making Olive screwy, like I said.’

  I countered that Olive had said Heymann was ashamed of Darlene. That her success would embarrass the family. Beatty was irritated at my persistence.

  ‘He could have controlled the movie anyway,’ she countered. ‘Studios have a habit of snapping up projects just to stop them in their tracks.’

  I thought of Troy and his chums. Spending their lives hunched over typewriters, inventing stories that ended up in a filing cabinet, never to see the light of day. At least it seemed to pay well.

  Beatty went on. ‘Let’s just leave Olive’s screwy theory out for the moment. This Lauder guy and his pal Clarence? Jury’s out. We’ll get back to them as well. Thirdly, your girl, Rhonda, she could still be in trouble. What does your instinct say about Reba T.?’

  ‘My hunch is she isn’t involved, she just didn’t like me snooping. Could be that she’s paying Caziel off. He’s got to have dirt on her. She’s worried about something getting out.’

  Beatty emptied her pipe before stuffing in fresh tobacco. ‘My feeling, too. Now, as for the attorney, Frederick Lyntner. I know him. About twenty or so years ago, he was a hotshot executive at the Heymann Studio. Got into some funny business with a young starlet he dated for a while. She made some accusations, he did the same back. Blame game. It was an internal investigation, no cops were called and he was fired. He may have got a payout, but he was finished. Nobody would touch him. As for the starlet, her star rose, and fast. I had no idea Frederick Lyntner became an attorney. Maybe he used the payout to bankroll himself through law school. And somehow, he got himself Tatiana Spark as a client. Interesting. But Tatiana Spark always had a mind of her own. No blacklist would sway her.’

  ‘So you know her personally?’

  ‘Met her a few times back in the day. Did you give the lawyer my card?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. Not to Martell Grainger, either. Nobody can connect us.’

  ‘Something you’ve done right, then.’

  ‘Do you think Lyntner could be involved somehow?’

  ‘Revenge on the studio after all these years? But he would want the movie to go ahead, a nice little earner for him.’

  I said, ‘He said as much. Seemed like a blow but he said he has other clients, too. Says he wants to focus on breeding racehorses. His office is crummy and he’s got a nervous shake, something with his hands.’

  Beatty absorbed this. She then started pulling off her rings, her bracelet. She unpinned her brooch. She placed them all down the table. She slid open a drawer and removed her cosmetics bag, and lifted out an assortment of gold-cased lipsticks and powder. ‘Now. We have a lot of ingredients, but the cake isn’t rising. Let’s stir the mixture. We’ll start with the facts, add the assumptions and instincts, then cook it all up and see what we got left over.’

  She slid her turquoise ring to one corner of the desk, near the lamp. ‘Over here is our missi
ng girl. Rhonda.’ Then she pushed a lipstick, two nail polishes and her brooch over to the ring. ‘And here is Shimmer, Darlene, Olive and Frank. Rhonda, here, has no direct relationship to Darlene or Frank, as far as we know, so we’ll put Shimmer nearer. Now, over here, on Darlene’s side,’ Beatty pushed her bracelet, a nail file and powder puff, ‘are Lyntner, Martell Grainger, and Tatiana Spark. All with plans for a movie. Let’s say this trio, Darlene, Frank and Shimmer, were murdered. Who gains? Not Otto Heymann. Probably in torment now for not helping her when he had the chance.’

  Beatty went on. ‘Now. Martell Grainger. A player, for sure. Could be talking herself up. But killing Darlene? I know her, got involved in her divorce. One of the most ambitious women I’ve ever met, but a killer? Hardly. And yes, she is friendly with Tatiana Spark, even if she didn’t reveal it to you the other day. So we don’t know what they’ve planned. But she’s smart as they get.’

  ‘Tatiana Spark. She’s like a mystery. Is she rich?’

  ‘She’ll have more than enough. She wasn’t as big a star as Clara Bow – Tatiana’s niche was playing the tragic martyr who died for her man. Strong accent, made no difference to the silent movies, but later she was downgraded to supporting actress in the talkies. Let’s come back to her.’ Beatty plonked two lipsticks in the middle. ‘Caziel and queen of scum Reba T.?’