CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: The Grand Pooper Scooper
“She has been missing for two days now,” said a frantic Tony, to the missing person’s officer.
“And you say that her car is still at the auditorium,” said Officer Gillis.
“Si, and her…”
“Wait a second, where are you from?”
“I am from Italy. Why do you ask?”
“So, why are you looking for this woman?”
“She is my pasticcio.”
“Your what?” asked the confused officer.
“You know, a pasticcio, that little cake-like thing that is, uh, somewhat smaller than a cake that is big.”
“You mean a cupcake?”
“Right, she is my cupcake,” explained Tony.
“Oh, you mean your sweetheart, your sweetie pie, your girlfriend.”
“Yes. You are getting the hang of this.”
“Look, don’t patronize me.”
“My sincere apologies, officer,” pleaded Tony
“So why do you think she’s missing?” asked Gillis.
“Because she is not here.”
Officer Velma Gillis had been on the force for twenty years. She was a heavy-set woman, never wore make-up, and was meaner than most men on the force. Her hair was pulled in a bun so tight it helped smooth most of the wrinkles in her face. She had heard every story she could imagine – or at least she thought.
“So what do you want me to do?” she asked.
“I would like for you to find her.”
“You want me to put aside all these reports of missing kids, wives, husbands, and other family members so you can find your cupcake?”
“Yes.”
“Listen here, sonny, I don’t have time to waste looking for a girlfriend. Did you two have a fight?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, we did. How did you know?”
“I’ve heard this story many times. Boyfriend and girlfriend get in a fight, girlfriend leaves town for a few days and doesn’t let boyfriend know, and boyfriend files a missing person’s report.”
“So you will not help me?”
“Right, now run along. I don’t have time to be wasting on pansy boyfriend-girlfriend problems.”
“Ah, il dolce far niente,” said Tony, as he walked away.
“What did you just say?” asked Officer Gillis.
Tony turned around. “I said, il dolce far niente.”
“I heard you. I meant - what does that mean in English?”
“It means the sweetness of doing nothing.”
“And just what did you mean by that?”
“It was not meant to be disrespectful. I was just quoting my father. Those were his last words before he was run over by a bread truck.”
“That’s horrible,” said Gillis.
“Yes. He was laying down in his letto when…”
“Wait a second - what’s a letto?”
“It is a bed. We had a letto, I’m sorry; a bed set up in our back yard. My father was trying to sleep after a hard day of working in the vino fields.”
“He was a grape picker?”
“No, he scooped merda from the asses.”
“He did what from where?”
“You know, he scooped the, um, poop from the ass.”
“I don’t quite know what you’re trying to say, son.”
“You know – ass – hee-haw, hee-haw.”
“Oh – you mean donkeys. He scooped the poop from the donkeys in the wine fields?” Gillis was struggling to keep from laughing.
“Yes. Grande Pooper Scooper was his nickname. He was so very tired that night when he just wanted to relax on the backyard letto. He said to me, as I brought him a glass of vino, Ah, il dolce far niente. At that moment, a runaway bread truck came crashing through our back yard. I froze. I could not do anything. The truck ran over my father, crushing him like the grapes that were crushed at the winery – where he had dreamed of working someday. That someday never came.” He paused then glanced up to the ceiling. “He’s poop scooping the heavens right now.”
Officer Gillis was amazed. Nobody could make up a story like that.
“I’ll help you find your girlfriend, son.”
“Grazie,” said the elated Tony. “I love America.”
“Well, I love it, too. I’m glad we can help you. That’s what this great country is all about.” Gillis proclaimed.
“My father would be so proud,” said Tony. This was true. Being a souvenir salesman and con artist, Tony’s father taught him young about the art of deceiving.
Officer Gillis was holding back her tears of laughter. It was the most ridiculous story she ever heard. She knew she had to help Tony. He sincerely needed it.
Benny and Julie started to wake up. They had a quickie and got dressed. The elevator brought them to the lobby so they could go back to the French Quarter. When the door opened, they were face-to-face with Elderberry, who was worn out from running away from the drag queen. He was on his way to Harold and Gina’s room.
“Hey, you’re Detective Elderberry,” said Benny. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t any of you people stay in New Lake City?” he asked. “It would make my job so much goddamn easier.” He got out of the elevator and closed the door.
“What was that all about?” asked Julie.
“I have no idea,” said Benny. They walked outside when the thought hit him. “Unless he’s here to question me about Kat.”
Gerome was halfway to the floor he needed when it also hit him. Hey, what the hell is that guy doing in New Orleans? He got out the elevator on the next floor and ran down the stairs.
“Benny, why would he want to question you? Don’t you think he would have questioned Kat by now?” asked Julie.
“Unless he couldn’t find her. Why else would he be here? Why would a homicide detective from New Lake City be in New Orleans when he’s working on a case? He’s after me.” Benny turned around and saw Elderberry in the lobby, running after them. “Oh, crap.” He took off running. Elderberry stopped by Julie.
“Why is Myers running?” he asked her, as he was out of breath.
“He thinks you’re after him. He thinks you want to question him about Zipper Down’s murder. He thinks you’re a raving lunatic. He thinks you are the last person who is going to ruin this weekend for him. He thinks you better stay away from him and leave us alone so I don’t have to kick your ass.”
“Lady, are you threatening me?”
“Oh, it’s not a threat. I know who you are, Elderberry. We have the same agent.”
“What the goddamn hell are you talking about?”
“Gary Bell. You do know him, don’t you?”
Gerome was quiet for a second. “Why should I know that sleazy bastard?”
“Wasn’t he your agent about four years ago when you did that photo shoot for…”
“Stop. Nobody was supposed to know that was me.”
“Well, I know. Gary is my agent right now. He showed me the pictures. You actually have a nice body, but as for your…”
“Never mind. Are you hinting at a possible blackmail scheme?”
“No, I’d never do that. I’ve just been having a tough time getting Benny to relax. It seems that every time he turns around, he sees something that reminds him of home. I really like this guy. He didn’t kill anybody. He needs a break. Why don’t you just leave us alone for the rest of this weekend and I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to talk to you on Monday. Understand?”
“You people sure are making it hard for a cop to earn a living. Okay, I’ll leave you two alone the rest of the weekend. I’ll have my hands full with the nympho and pervert for a while anyway.”
“I don’t quite know what you mean by that, and frankly, I don’t care. Here’s hoping to not be seeing you soon.” She turned and walked away.
“What a bitch,” Elderberry said as he turned back to the hotel. He had just missed Harold and Gina walking out.
Carlos was at home, having din
ner with his wife and son when the phone rang. The maid brought the phone to Carlos.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner sir, but you might want to take this call,” said the maid.
Carlos picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Carlos, Peter Grimes here.”
“Why the hell are you disturbing my dinner, Grimes? This better be good.”
“Oh it is, sir. You better start thinking about getting Frank ready for surgery. He’s next on the list.”
Carlos jumped up from his chair. “Fantastic. Frank, get your clothes packed. We’re going get you a new liver.”
“Hang on, Carlos,” said Peter. “I said he was next on the list. I didn’t say he has a donor yet.”
“That’s just a minor technicality, Grimes. You do what you have to do. We’ll meet you at the hospital.” He hung up the phone.
“Oh, shit,” said Peter. He hung up then dialed the number in Africa. After a few minutes, he got the connection.
“Peltier here,” said Dave.
“Dave, it’s Pete. There’s been a change of plans. We need you to come back now.”
“No can do, Pete. I have to finish the business over here first.”
“But Carlos is on his way to the hospital with Frank right now. He thinks the operation is already set.”
“And just who gave him that information?”
“Well, I sort of did.”
“And who’s the idiot now, Pete?”
“I guess that would be me, Dave,” said Peter, swallowing a huge dose of pride.
“Sure would, Pete. Gotta go. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Peter listened as the click signaled the hang-up. “I guess I’ll just have to take care of this myself.”
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 43