CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE: Naked
Wainwright couldn’t stay put. He went against Tony’s wishes and started running. He ran into the street just as Benny was on his way back to Julie’s hotel. Benny slammed on the brakes, missing Wainwright by inches.
“What are you doing, you crazy, old man?” screamed Benny.
“You gotta help me,” said the frantic Wainwright. “They’re going to get me.”
“Are you nuts?” said the apprehensive Benny.
“That’s what they want you to think,” said Wainwright. He turned around to see if he was being followed. He didn’t notice his towel fall off. Benny was feeling weird about an old, naked man talking to him in the middle of traffic.
“Just get in the car,” said Benny. He unlocked the passenger door for the old man. As he drove away, Wainwright told Benny the entire story of the big con game going on.
“So if you’re William Joseph Wainwright, and your firm is the legal owner of Apocalypse Records, what does Jamie O’Malley have to do with this whole mess?” asked Benny.
“Would she be that good-looking redhead you and Nick were having lunch with a few days ago?”
“Yes - hey, how do you know about that lunch?”
“I was across the street at that 7-Eleven.”
“Do you know her?”
“She works for the FBI. They’ve been investigating me for years.”
Benny slammed on the brakes. “What in the heck are you talking about?”
“If you’re going to stay parked, kid, you might want to get out of the traffic.”
Benny pulled of the road and into a parking lot. “This isn’t making any sense. Why would an FBI agent be posing as a new owner of our company and be investigating you?”
“Because I’ve been trying to have Carlos Verona killed for years,” said Wainwright.
“You’re trying to kill him?”
“Not me, personally. I hired people to do the deed. They didn’t do a very good job. It looks like Carlos got to me first.”
“I don’t understand this whole thing. Why were you trying to have Carlos killed?”
“Look, kid. It’s a long story. I stole his woman from him years ago. He’s been out to get me ever since. He set up shop here in New Lake City just a few months after I started my practice. Neither of us got to keep the girl, but that son-of-a-bitch sure holds a grudge. My friend told me to put out a contract on him before he had the chance to do it to me, so I did. The FBI doesn’t exactly like that kind of thing, so they’ve been watching me for years. O’Malley just happens to be the most recent investigator on my case.”
Benny didn’t know what to do. For one thing, he had never learned how to talk to a naked old man in a car before.
“Let me take you to your home to get you some clothes,” said Benny.
“No – can’t do that. That’s what they want me to do. They’re waiting for me.”
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know. It’s either the FBI or Carlos’s people. Someone has been living in my house ever since I fell off the wagon. I can’t go back there.”
Benny was curious. “Why don’t we take a ride by there and see if anybody is inside.”
“Okay,” said Wainwright, “but I’m going to be here on the floor. You just let me know what you see.”
Debbie was wandering around town aimlessly. Her tear-soaked cheeks were pink as the breeze from the lake chilled her face. She walked in front of El Muchacho, the Mexican restaurant, and decided to go in for a margarita. The lunch crowd had just left and Chaz Reed was setting up his equipment in a corner near the bar. He performed there on Sunday and Thursday evenings. He noticed Debbie sitting all alone at the bar. He casually approached the bar and asked Raul, the bartender, for a Coke. He turned to Debbie.
“I haven’t seen you in here before,” said Chaz.
“Probably because I’ve never been in here before.”
“I’m Chaz - Chaz Reed.”
“I’m unimpressed - thoroughly unimpressed.”
“Do I sense a bit of iciness?”
“Look, if you’re trying to pick me up, forget it,” proclaimed Debbie. “I’ve had it with men. You are nothing but lying, deceitful, vulgar, and unfaithful human beings, and I use that term very loosely.”
“It looks like you’re going through a tough time.” Chaz wasn’t taken aback with Debbie’s attitude. In his line of work, he had encountered dozens of women in her predicament.
“You can’t even imagine how tough. I’ve just uncovered the most diabolical scheme this city has ever seen, and it doesn’t excite me one bit. You know, I usually get off on things like this, but it’s being overshadowed by a stupid, cheating, man.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind off scheme did you just discover?”
“I do mind you asking. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
“Okay, sorry,” said Chaz. He turned to Raul and said, “Man, Raul, it must be something in the air. Kristi just told me this morning I had to move out. She said that something big was going on and I couldn’t stay in the mansion anymore.”
“That is a shame,” said Raul. “That is the nicest house in all of New Lake City. You were lucky to be able to stay there as long as you did.”
“What mansion are you talking about?” asked the interested Debbie.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“I still don’t but I just heard the bartender say you were living in the nicest house in town.”
“That’s right.”
“Could that be the Wainwright mansion near Deville Creek?”
“She did mention something about some guy named Wainwright owning the place. I never questioned it.” Chaz was one to always go with the flow.
“Who’s she?”
“My girlfriend, Kristi.”
“I never understood how she could afford to live there,” said Raul. “I didn’t think record company secretaries made that kind of money.”
“Well, she just quit her job last week,” said Chaz. “I guess she really didn’t need to work anyway. This Wainwright guy must be her sugar daddy or something.”
“What do you know about Wainwright?” asked Debbie.
“I know he’s been out of the country for a about a year and for some reason, Kristi is living at his house. I don’t ask questions. She’s been letting me live there rent-free with her. I never question a good thing.”
“So, you’re living with this girl, who just happens to be living in a mansion that belongs to one of the wealthiest men in this city – which you don’t even ask why – and you’re trying to hit on me.”
“I’m just making conversation. I’m not trying to pick you up or anything like that. Excuse me, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to seem like a bitch or anything like that,” said the always-apologetic Debbie. “It’s just that men have been putting me through hell these last few days. You just happen to be one of the gender.”
“No, problem. I’ll leave you alone and finish setting up my equipment. It was nice to meet you, I think.”
Debbie drank the rest of her margarita. She decided this place was as good as any to hide out from the troubles she was experiencing.
As Benny approached Wainwright’s home, the old man began to get even more neurotic. He noticed a black Jaguar with the license plate reading G BELL.
“That’s Gary Bell’s Jaguar,” shouted Wainwright.
“Who’s Gary Bell?” asked Benny.
“He’s the sleaziest man I’ve ever met. He makes Grimes and Verona seem like Abbott and Costello.”
“What does he have to do with all this mess?”
“I don’t know. Park the car right here. I think I see someone coming out of the house.” Benny pulled the car into a driveway across the street. He and Wainwright turned and looked through the back glass. They saw a tall, bald-headed man wearing a long, black overcoat walking from the house. Clutching his arm was a ravishing, bleached-blond beauty, c
arrying a suitcase.
“That’s Kristi,” said Benny.
“That’s Bell. I recognize that ridiculous prosthetic left hand. Who is Kristi?”
“She was the receptionist at Apocalypse until last week. She quit.”
“Do you know why she quit?”
“Some detective upset her, and she just quit.”
“Would that detective have been Lieutenant Gerome Elderberry?”
Once again, Benny was amazed. “Yeah – how did you know?”
“He’s the best snoop this city has ever seen. I tried to steer him in the right direction but he didn’t take the bait. I haven’t seen him in a few days. I wonder what lead he’s following?”
“Haven’t you seen the news?” asked Benny. “He’s been tracking the supposed killer in Chicago. He mentioned the killer being associated with Apocalypse Records.”
“Well, at least he’s right about that. The killer is associated with your record company.” Oh, my God, thought Benny. It is Kat.
“Get down,” said Wainwright. “I don’t want him to see me.”
They lowered themselves in the front seat as the Jaguar pulled out of the driveway and left. A sudden tap was heard at the window. They looked up and saw a patrolman staring down at them through the window. He saw Benny crouched in the front seat right next to an old, naked man. Benny slowly lowered the window. He knew he was going to have a tough time explaining this one.
“May I help you, officer?” asked the red-faced Benny.
“Would you mind telling me what you’re doing in Peter Grimes’s driveway, hunched over in the front seat – with an old, naked man?”
“Peter Grimes?” yelled Wainwright. “What happed to the Rickman family? They’ve been living here for years.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the patrolman. “This is Peter Grimes’s private residence and I’m going to have to ask you to leave. And would you please put some clothes on that man before I take you in for public indecency?”
“Yes, sir,” said Benny. “Right away, and I’m sorry if we’ve caused any problems.” He quickly backed out and sped away.
“This isn’t good,” said Wainwright.
“You’re not kidding. He could have thrown us in jail.”
“No, I mean about Grimes living right across the street from me. He’s been trying to get the Rickman family to move out of that house for years. And what in the hell is Bell doing in my house? He doesn’t have anything to do with the feds or Verona. This isn’t good at all.”
“Do you want me to follow his car?”
“Yeah, you do that,” said Wainwright. He peeked in the backseat and noticed one of Benny’s jackets. “Hey, do you mind if I cover myself up with that sport coat of yours back there?”
“By all means, please do,” said Benny.
“It sure would be embarrassing if someone saw me naked in here,” said Wainwright.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 53