This Dame for Hire (27 page)

Forget my relaxation level. It didn’t exist, and my frustration was rising. “Okay, ya don’t wanna believe me, will ya answer some questions anyway?”

“Why not?” She stuck a cigarette in her mouth and lit up. “Want one?”

“I have my own, thanks.” I wasn’t about to take anything from this gal.

“Ask away.”

“You ever heard of Claudette West?”

“Familiar, but I can’t place the name.”

“How about Warner Garfield?”

Her face went dark. “That one.”

“What about him?”

“I kicked his behind right out of my class and my troupe.”

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Smoke trickled from her nostrils.

“You said you’d answer my questions.”

“Did I know you’d be asking about that dirty dog?”

I got that excited feeling I always got when I knew I was close to something. “Why was he a dirty dog?”

“Look, honey, you don’t want to know about this stuff. Trust me.”

“Whether I want to or not, I need to know it.”

Dinah Dumont stood up. “I have to teach a class now.”

“Can I watch?”

“No.” She turned to go up the steps.

“Wait.”

“Why?”

“Warner Garfield’s been murdered.”

She turned back to me. “You’re kidding me.”

I shook my head.

“Well, good riddance to bad rubbish.”

I couldn’t help being a little shocked by that reaction. “You don’t care that he was murdered?”

“After all the ones
he
murdered?”

I felt a thump in my gut. “Whaddaya mean?”

“I mean Warner Garfield was a murderer, plain and simple. I have to go.”

As she started to turn away I grabbed her arm. “Please. Explain that to me. What’re ya talkin about?”

“Garfield does abortions. Or did. Believe me, I didn’t know that when he joined the troupe or he never would have gotten through the door.”

“An actor doin abortions as a sideline?”

“And second rate at both. I eventually found out that he’d been kicked out of medical school a few years before he turned up here.”

“But how did ya know he was doin abortions?”

“One of the girls told me . . . that’s when I gave him the boot.”

“How long ago was that?”

I watched her do a mental count.

“About four months ago. You really
are
a private eye, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“You trying to solve Garfield’s murder?”

“No. I’m tryin to find out how Garfield was connected to Claudette West.”

“She have an abortion?”

“No.” But she probably was going to, I thought.

“Claudette West. I think I know who you mean. She was a friend of one of my actresses, Audrey Todd.”

“Could I talk to her?”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“She has a class with me in a few minutes. I’ll send her out.”

“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Anything that hurts Garfield is a good day’s work, far as I’m concerned.” She disappeared inside the building.

I didn’t think it was a smart idea to remind her that Garfield couldn’t be hurt anymore.

An abortionist. I wondered if I’d been standing in his operating room at any point. Had he killed a girl accidentally and then somebody paid him back? This abortionist news made me think his murder had nothing to do with Claudette. On the other hand, maybe she’d been planning to have an abortion and Garfield was the one who was gonna do it.

“Excuse me.”

I looked up into the face of a dewy-eyed girl with blonde hair that turned up in a roll at the bottom.

“I’m Audrey Todd,” she said.

I introduced myself.

“Miss Dumont said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Does the name Claudette West mean anything to ya?”

Audrey looked stricken. “Yes.”

“She was a friend of yours?”

“Yes.”

“How did ya know her?”

“We were in a history class together at NYU.”

“And you brought Claudette here?”

“I told her about HeartsinArts. She sat in on some rehearsals and came to some plays. But she knew her parents would kill her if . . .” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“It’s okay. Go on.”

“Well, she wanted to act, but she knew her parents would have a fit if she did. So she just watched.”

“And what about Warner Garfield?”

“He had a crush on Claudette. But she didn’t like him. Actually, nobody did.”

“Why not?”

“There was this creepiness about him. Then we found out what he did to make a living.”

“Abortions?”

She looked down at her shoes. “Yes.”

“Did Claudette know he did that?”

“Yes. We all did once Miss Dumont kicked him out.”

“Do ya know if Claudette ever had any direct contact with Garfield after he got the shove?”

“No. Why would she?”

“I guess she wouldn’t.” Claudette obviously hadn’t confided in Audrey that she was pregnant. “Thanks a lot, Audrey. You’ve been a big help.”

“I hope so. Did Warner kill Claudette?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

I expected Audrey to say goodbye, but instead she said, “Somebody should pay for her murder.” She sounded like she wouldn’t mind doing it herself.

“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Thanks again.”

She nodded and ran back up the steps.

Walking away from the HeartsinArts building toward my street, I thought again that maybe Garfield did kill her. Motive: Passion? Rejection? But if he did, who killed him and why? Maybe the two murders, like I’d thought,
weren’t
connected. Claudette may have set up an abortion with Garfield, but somebody killed her before he could do it. Probably the father of her unborn child.

Did Garfield know who the father was? Or the murderer? I didn’t think it would be beneath Garfield to blackmail someone. That someone probably killed him. And knocked me over the head as a warning. Whoever clocked me would have no problem putting my lights out permanently. Not a comfy thought.

THIRTY

I hotfooted it home. The phone was ringing as I walked into my place. It was Birdie.

“Where ya been?”

“Workin.”

“I got a whole lotta calls for ya.”

“Name em.”

She did, and I jotted down two from other clients. Then she said, “And three from Detective Lake. He said it was real important.”

My heart thwacked against my chest.

“He’s not at his precinct, so here’s the number ya can reach him at.”

I hung up in a hurry, but then I felt nervous about making the call to Lake. I knew I was being a dodo about this cause probably all he wanted was to give me some info about the case. I dialed the number.

“Joe’s Chili Parlor,” a woman’s voice said.

I told her the number I wanted, and she said I had it right. “Is Detective Lake there?”

“Yup. Hey, Johnny.” The phone banged in my ear as she put it down. It felt like forever until he picked it up.

“Hello.”

“It’s Faye.”

“Faye. Thanks for getting back to me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Fine.”

This didn’t seem like a business call to me. Neither of us said anything for a few secs, then he said, “I have some information for you.”

“Good.”

“We found the name of the acting company.”

Should I or shouldn’t I? I had to. “I got it.”

“Oh.” He sounded down in the mouth.

“We also found out that Warner Garfield did some nasty stuff on the side.”

Now what? Do I tell him I know this? I didn’t want to sound too smart for my own good. I decided to play it out. “What kinda stuff?”

“He . . . he helped out ladies in trouble.”

Was I supposed to act like I didn’t know what that meant? Make him think I was a birdbrain. I couldn’t. If that was the kinda girl he wanted then he wasn’t the guy for me.

“I heard that,” I said.

Silence.

“Sounds like you’ve been doing all right without my help,” he said.

Oh, jeez. I couldn’t make out the sound in his voice. Was he upset or proud of me? Hell’s bells. I had to be who I was and not worry about him every minute, no matter how the ladies magazines said I should act with a man.

“I had some luck.” This was true. “But what I don’t know is his connection to Claudette West.”

“I have that.” His voice sounded sunnier.

“Can ya tell me?”

“Garfield had a little book with pages of dates and initials. The initials C.W. were there in early January, but they’d been crossed out. They appeared again the day after Claudette was murdered. Not crossed out. She probably got cold feet the first time. I know this doesn’t prove anything, but I think on circumstantial grounds we can assume that she’d made arrangements to . . . see him. To have him take care of things.”

That made me smile. Lake was being so careful not to offend me in any way. I guessed I shoulda appreciated it. But he’d have to know the true me sometime if we were gonna . . . gonna what?

“That’s about it,” he said.

“Well, that’s a lot.”

“Most of it you already knew.” Down again.

“Not the most important thing . . . the connection between the two.”

“That’s true.” Up.

“Do you have any idea who knocked Garfield off?” I asked.

“Not yet. Could’ve been any number of people. But we’ll find out.”

I knew this wasn’t necessarily true. “Yeah. I bet ya will. I’m wonderin if the same person who killed Claudette killed Garfield.”

“What would be the motive?”

“Another thing I gotta pin down.”

“I think . . . ,” he said. “I think we should meet and talk this over, compare notes.”

“Okay.” My pulse was racing.

“How about tonight? Dinner?”

“Let me check my calendar.” Now that was just plain stupid. As if I wouldn’t know what I was doing that night. Those magazines, which I read only at the beauty parlor, had infected my brain. I was never gonna read them again.

“Johnny? Tonight would be fine.”

“Good.”

“What time?”

“How’s seven for you?”

“Fine. Where?”

“Where do you live, Faye?”

Did he want to pick me up at my place? For some reason that made me very nervous. You’d think I was a slob or something when I was really very neat.

I told him where I lived.

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at quarter to seven. You think about where you’d like to go. See you later.”

“Bye.” But he’d already hung up.

The thought of him coming here gave me the jimjams. I looked around my living room. There was the empty space waiting for my piano. How could I explain that unless I told him the truth? So, I’d tell him the truth. All he could do is laugh. But right away I didn’t think Johnny Lake would laugh at me cause I wanted to play and sing. It wasn’t like I thought I was gonna perform in clubs and become a star. Lots of regular people had pianos.

So why was I so nervy? It’d been a long time since I’d had a real date, and I wanted this guy to like me. But if he didn’t like me already, why’d he ask me out to dinner? He coulda talked about the case on the phone or asked to meet me for a cup of coffee. Dinner was different. Dinner was the real thing. Enough.

I sat on my sofa with a yellow pad and a fountain pen. I needed to figure out who knew both Claudette and Garfield and also who knew she was gonna have an abortion.

Claudette met Garfield at HeartsinArts. That was probably during the first time she broke up with Richard. When she split with him again she went back to the acting group and Garfield was still there. Then Dinah Dumont chucked him out. And that woulda been a plus for Claudette to learn what else he did besides act badly, cause by then she knew she was gonna need him. Maybe one of the actors was the baby’s father and he set up the appointment with Garfield. That way, Garfield woulda known who the father was, known he probably killed Claudette, and he coulda been blackmailing him. But why would the father need to kill her if Claudette was gonna get rid of the baby?

It didn’t add up. How about the other way around? The father hired Garfield to knock off Claudette cause he didn’t know she was planning an abortion and Garfield wasn’t about to tell him. But was Garfield a killer? Performing abortions wasn’t the same as killing an adult human being in cold blood. At least, I didn’t think so.

If that theory was gonna fill the bill, the father would have to have some loot. I didn’t know any actors with extra greenbacks to throw around. And paying somebody to rub out your pregnant girlfriend wouldna come on the cheap. The idea of an actor being the dad was starting to look flimsy.

Why did Claudette say Garfield was trying to date her? Even if he was, she made him sound like a lounge lizard trying to wear her down. According to Cotten and June she thought of him as a pest. If he was gonna perform an abortion on her, why mention him at all? When she’d told Cotten she’d dated him, she didn’t know she’d be needing his services down the line. Maybe she was just trying to make Cotten jealous.

The important thing was that Claudette had scheduled an abortion twice and her second appointment was the day after she was killed. Then months after Claudette’s murder somebody knocked off Garfield. Once again I tumbled to the fact that there might not be any connection between these two murders. But it seemed a lead-pipe cinch there was.

The father of Claudette’s unborn child was the number-one suspect. And come to think of it, Anne’s vision of a man forcing Claudette to do something against her will coulda been having the abortion. Maybe she’d decided against it a second time . . . three months was risky enough, and papa settled on wiping out everything the night before. Two for one.

It felt like I was on to something. The father had set up a meeting in the Village then crowned her on Bleecker Street because she refused to go through with the abortion.

Why the Village? Because he lived there. The three I knew about who were connected to Claudette even slightly were Gregory Flynn, Marlene Hayworth’s paramour; Jim Duryea, my upstairs neighbor; and Brian Wayne, her professor. Flynn had an opportunity when he went out for cigs, but why would he have gotten Claudette down to the Village when he knew he was gonna be with Marlene Hayworth? More than that, I really didn’t think he’d been involved with Claudette.