Too Darn Hot (11 page)

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Authors: Sandra Scoppettone

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BOOK: Too Darn Hot
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“Did ya ever meet a soldier named David Cooper?” If she’d read the morning paper, she’d know his name from that source and say so.

“Sounds familiar.”

“Where’d ya hear it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Try to think where ya heard it, Lucille.”

“Oh, yes. I remember. From Charlie.”

“Was that at the dinner with Claire?”

“Yes.”

“Not when ya met Charlie alone?”

“How do you know about that?”

Good guess, Quick.

THIRTEEN

W
hy don’tcha tell me about that meetin with Charlie, Lucille.”

“It was nothing.”

“Some reason you were seein your sister’s boyfriend alone?”

She stalled, lighting up again. I knew she was trying to think of a story that’d throw me a curve.

“Charlie wanted to give Claire a surprise birthday party.”

“When did ya say this was?”

“I didn’t. But it was for her twenty-first and that was a little over a year ago.”

“You and Claire were friends then?”

“Yes.”

“When’s Claire’s birthday?”

“June first.”

“So when were you and Charlie makin these plans?”

“He was home on leave in April. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do much about a party, except pay for it, and he asked me to do the planning.”

I’d ripped through my lunch, but Lucille hadn’t touched her sandwich.

“Ya haven’t eaten anything,” I said.

“I’m not hungry.”

I wondered what that was like. Lotsa these dames claimed they were never hungry. I didn’t know much about that. Practically nothing.

“Charlie was sure he was gonna be home for her birthday?”

“He must’ve been.”

“Lucille, soldiers fightin a war got no idea when their next leave is gonna be. There was no way he could count on bein anywhere, much less home for Claire’s birthday.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Yes.”

She looked like I’d slapped her and then she began to cry. I waited.

“This is so awful,” she said.

I was beginning to think it might be. “What ya tell me is confidential. And it’s probably not as bad as ya think.”

“Oh, but it is.”

“Let’s start with how you and Charlie happened to get together alone.”

“He called me. He said he had a friend he’d like me to meet.”

“David Cooper?”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“Well, I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time so I agreed to meet David. I thought it was going to be a double date with Charlie and Claire.”

“But it wasn’t?”

She shook her head and her eyes started filling again. “He asked me not to tell Claire about it, cause she might not like him fixing me up.”

“Did that seem right or odd to you?”

“Claire has funny ideas about things. It was a little strange but I knew she didn’t approve of blind dates.”

“Why not?”

“I think she had a bad experience once.”

“But this would be a blind date that her boyfriend arranged.”

She shrugged.

“Okay. Go on.”

“When I got to Charlie’s room—he was staying at the Commodore then, too—there was no Private Cooper. At first I didn’t think anything of it. He could’ve been late.”

“But he wasn’t. He never showed up, right?”

“Right. Charlie said David would be there any minute and fixed us both a drink.”

“What’d ya talk about?”

“Claire mostly. He indicated that she was frigid. It made me very uncomfortable to hear him talking that way.”

“Did ya tell him that?”

She nodded. “But he kept on going. He said she wouldn’t even French-kiss and he couldn’t get to first base with her. I tried changing the subject but he’d always come back to Claire and how she wouldn’t give him what any soldier, who might be going off to be killed, needed. Deserved, he said.”

I felt sorry for Lucille cause I thought I knew what was coming. “Go on,” I said.

“We’d finished our drinks and I asked about Private Cooper. Charlie laughed and came over to me, pulled me out of my chair, and dragged me to the bed.” She began to cry again.

“Did he rape ya, Lucille?” I asked.

She nodded.

“What a louse Charlie is. A real skunk. I’m so sorry,” I said. “What happened afterward?”

“He threatened me. Said if I told Claire he’d say I tried to seduce him but failed and now I was trying to get revenge. Then he called me a whore and told me to get out. I did. I wanted to get away from him as fast as I could.”

“And ya never told Claire?”

“I dropped a few hints to go slow with this guy, but she was already sold on Charlie and anything I said put her back up all the more.”

“Was the baby Charlie’s?”

“Yes.”

“Did ya ever tell him about it?”

“No. I thought about having an abortion but I was too afraid. I’d heard so many awful stories. And some part of me didn’t think it was right. But I didn’t want a baby, and certainly not his. So that’s why I gave him up.”

“Ya didn’t tell Claire or yer parents who the father was?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You’ve been keepin this story to yerself all this time?”

“No. Van knew about the rape. He was furious. And even more furious that he was unable to do anything about it.”

“And he knew about the baby?”

“Yes.”

“Did he know that Charlie was the father?”

“He figured it out. He wanted me to tell Claire, but I just couldn’t.”

“It was his idea for ya to stop visitin him, right?”

“Yes. When I started to show. That was when I moved here from New York and it wasn’t so convenient to stop by Van’s. He thought it was too much for me. We talked on the telephone.”

“What’d ya do for money?”

“My grandfather, on my mother’s side, left both Claire and me a bit of cash. We’re not swanky people or anything, but he made money in scrap metal. He would’ve made more with the war, but he died a few years ago.”

“Why are ya workin in the bookstore?”

“I wasn’t left that much money. And I want to work. What am I going to do all day, stay in my apartment and stare at the walls?”

“Couldn’t ya have told yer parents and Claire that ya were raped by someone else?”

She gave me a smirk. “You know better than that. I couldn’t say it was Charlie, but no matter who I named I’d still be blamed.”

It was true. That was how people looked at girls who were raped. They always said she was asking for it. I’d never bought that.

“Yer right. But why didn’t ya go back to New York after ya gave birth?”

“I don’t know. My parents wouldn’t speak to me and neither would Claire.”

“You didn’t have friends there?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe I didn’t want to be in the town where it happened. I’ll go back someday. Working in the bookstore isn’t my destiny.”

“You’re different from Claire. For one thing ya speak different. Why’s that?”

“My grandfather sent me to college in Colorado. I wanted to go but Claire didn’t. I guess my accent got mixed up with a western one.”

I switched gears. “Did ya know that David Cooper was the person found dead in Charlie’s room?”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

“They identified him yesterday.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yer not alone. And now we know Charlie’s been kidnapped.”

“What?”

“Claire got a ransom call. Charlie’s father is at the ready to pay when they call back.”

“Poor Claire. Don’t kidnappers usually kill their victims?”

“Often.” I wondered if she wished somebody
would
kill Charlie Ladd. Couldn’t blame her.

“So what’s everybody doing? Waiting?”

“That’s about it.”

“Who knows about the kidnapping?”

“Only the people who need to know. I’d appreciate it if ya kept this info to yerself.”

“Of course.”

“I should call Claire right now and see if she’s heard anything more. Excuse me, okay?”

“Sure.”

The restaurant phone booth was occupied by a very large woman squeezed inside. She couldn’t quite close the door, so I could hear her part of the conversation. Any other time I wouldna been able to keep myself from listening, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lucille had told me.

My picture of Private Charlie Ladd had changed once again. First I’d thought he was a murderer or murdered himself; then a victim of kidnappers, which he was. Now a rapist.

After the Ladds anted up and Charlie was free, was it my responsibility to tell Claire that he’d raped her sister? She was my client but I wasn’t hired to protect her
from
her boyfriend. I was hired to
find
her boyfriend.

Anyway, there was always the possibility that Lucille was lying. But she had nothing to gain from me by making up a story like that.

The huge woman finally signed off and maneuvered her way out of the booth. She looked at me with disgust when she passed me, as though I was responsible for her girth.

I went in the booth, got the operator, gave her Claire’s number, dropped some nickels in, and waited. She answered right away.

“Have ya heard anything?” I asked.

“Nothin.”

“Okay. I won’t stay on. I’ll check with ya later.”

“Faye, do ya think ya could come over for a while?”

“Not right now, Claire. I’m interviewin somebody.”

“Another case?”

“No. Your case.”

“So who is it?”

Damn. “I’ll tell ya when I see ya. We should keep the line free now.”

“Yeah. So I’ll see ya later?”

“I’ll call ya first. Gotta go now.” I put the earpiece in its cradle.

When I got back to the table, Lucille was smoking a cigarette and she’d ordered herself another Coke.

“Did you get her?”

“Yeah. No word yet.”

“Oh, poor Claire. She must be a wreck. She’s very fragile, you know.”

“She is?” That was something I hadn’t noticed. Course she’d started stretching my job to include babysitting duties.

“Is someone with her? Waiting for the call?”

“I’m gonna go over when I leave ya.”

“I guess that should be about now. I have to get back to work.”

She began gathering her things: pocketbook, lighter, cigarettes.

“May I come back to see you again if I need to?”

She hesitated. “Sure. I don’t see why not. You want my number in case you need to ask me a quick question? That’s funny. A quick question.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I gotta lot of quick questions. But I have both yer numbers.”

“Oh, of course you do.”

I motioned to the waitress to bring the check.

“You wanna take yer sandwich home?”

“No, thanks.”

I
wanted to, but I knew that wouldn’t look good.

The waitress brought the check. “Oh, dear, something wrong with the sandwich?”

I said there wasn’t and that Lucille wasn’t hungry. I paid the check and told her to keep the change. She smiled and thanked me.

“I didn’t expect you to take me to lunch.”

“Expense account. Don’t worry about it.” This would be an item in my expenses or not, if I didn’t want Claire to know about it. But who knew where we’d be by the time this case was over?

Outside, I thanked Lucille for being honest with me. She asked me if I’d keep her updated now and then, and I said I would. We said goodbye. Then she headed toward the book-shop and I went over to Edison Street to pick up the car.

When I got back to the Village I found a parking spot on Morton Street, locked up the LaSalle, and went home. When there was no answer at Duryea’s apartment, I slid the keys under his door like he told me to.

As usual, Zach was hungry. But I told him it was too early. I called Claire. Still no word. I’d said I’d be over soon. I relented about feeding Zach cause who knew when I’d get home? Besides, too early for what? It wasn’t exactly like having a drink before five.

What I’d learned about Charlie nagged at me. I didn’t know much about rapists but what was to know? If they forced themselves on girls, they were the lowest of the low. Snakes in the grass. And if Charlie raped Claire’s sister, who was to say that he wouldn’t do it to some other dame. Maybe a friend of Claire’s. Maybe he already had.

Maybe the kidnappers knew he was a rapist. Maybe he’d done it to one of
their
sisters. And David Cooper? Where did he fit in? Had he learned about Charlie and confronted him? Then Charlie killed him and along came some kidnappers? Something was smelling like Gorgonzola.

Then again, Charlie’s character might have nothing to do with Cooper or with the kidnappers. Maybe they killed Cooper cause he was in the way.

I knew I was going around and around cause I didn’t want to go uptown to Claire’s. Not telling her about Charlie’s true nature was gonna be tough. Almost impossible.

FOURTEEN

It was almost eleven P.M. Claire and I had drunk cup after cup of java waiting for the phone to ring. She let me sit in the one comfortable chair, a big flowered club whose springs had hit the skids. I felt like I was sitting on the floor. Mostly Claire paced and looked over at the phone every fifth or sixth step.

“Why don’t ya give it a rest,” I said.

She stopped. “I’m so nervous.”

“Yeah, I know. Ya think pacin and lookin at the horn is gonna make those bums call ya?”

“I guess I do. Stupid.” She sat on what passed for a sofa. “I don’t get it. How do they think they’re gonna get their dough if they don’t call?”

“Nobody ever said crooks were smart.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna call tonight, Claire.”

“Based on what?”

Ouch. “A hunch.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“You’re right. Sorry. But if they don’t call by midnight, I think ya should go to bed.”

“You think I could sleep?”

“Maybe not but ya hafta rest, Claire.”

“And where will you be if I go to bed?”

I knew she wanted me to say I’d stay right there but I couldn’t. “I’ll hafta go home.”

“Why? It’s not like ya have anyone waitin for ya.”

“I know yer nervous and scared, Claire, but I’m not yer punchin bag. Yer startin to be real nasty to me.”

“Oh, you’re right.” She put her hands over her face and started bawling.

I didn’t go to her cause I thought she needed to cry and I’ve noticed if ya go to a person who’s crying, it stops them. After a while her crying petered out.

“And by the way, I do have somebody waitin for me.”

“Who?”

“His name is Zachary.”

“How come ya never mentioned him?”

“I’m not much fer blabbin.” I didn’t bother pointing out that we weren’t girlfriends no matter how much Claire wanted to do let’s pretend. Our relationship was strictly a professional one.

“Is he handsome?”

“I think so. He has black hair with a small patch of white in the front.”

“That sounds cute. He’s waitin for ya at your place?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he stay . . . I mean . . . do ya . . .”

It wasn’t too hard to get her drift. “No.”

“Can’t ya call him, tell him you’re stayin here?”

“He’d never answer my phone.” Everything I was saying was true about Zach. “Look, Claire, I can’t stay all night and that’s that. If they call, ya listen carefully, write everything down, and then ring me.”

“Will ya come back then?”

“I’ll do what the circumstances call for. Okay?”

“I’m payin ya to find Charlie, ya know?”

“Sittin here watchin ya pace back and forth isn’t findin Charlie.”

“Oh, Faye. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That one left me cold. People who used this in tight situations were hoping to wheedle comfort out of anyone who’d bite. But they knew exactly what was wrong with em. I said nothing.

Claire gave up waiting for a reply. “Faye, just tell me one thing. Do ya think he’s alive?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. When they call ya should ask to speak to him again.”

“And what if they won’t let me?”

“Say ya need proof that he’s still alive. And if they won’t give it, we’ll talk it over, then ask the Ladds what they wanna do.” I put down my coffee cup and pushed myself outta the chair.

“Yer goin?” She sounded surprised, like we hadn’t been talking about this for the last ten minutes.

“Yeah.”

“I know the minute ya hit the street they’ll call.”

“Might. But whatever they ask ya to do I’m pretty sure it won’t be for tonight. Ya should try to get some sleep. At least lie down. Want me to help pull the bed down?”

“No. I do it every night. Thanks.”

I picked up my pocketbook, put my cigs and matches inside, and closed it.

“You’ll take a cab this time of night, won’t ya?”

“This all goes on my expense account, ya know.”

She waved a hand as if to say it didn’t matter.

I reminded myself about her small inheritance. “Okay. If I don’t hear from ya, I’ll call ya in the A.M.”

She nodded and I headed for the door.

At home I debated whether it was too late to call Johnny. He was a night owl but it was almost midnight. If he was asleep I’d tell him I’d call back in the morning.

But he wasn’t asleep.

“I was wondering where you were. I called a few times.”

I brought him up to speed on the case. Then I asked his advice about telling Claire what kinda man Charlie was.

“You only have Lucille’s word for it. And it’s not your place to tell Claire. That’s not what she hired you for.”

I knew all that but I needed him to reinforce my thoughts. “But what if I could find out that Lucille was tellin me the truth? Could I tell Claire then?”

“How would you do that? There were just two people involved and one’s Lucille and the other’s missing.”

“You have a point.”

“You believe Lucille, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I mean, why would she say Charlie’d done that to her if he hadn’t?”

“Ah, Faye. You know better than that. Why would anyone say anything? Or do anything?”

“Yeah, yer right, Johnny. I still can’t get it that people do things for no reason, or a reason I can’t figure.”

“I could tell you some stories that’d make your jaw drop.”

“Bet ya could.”

“You’re still new to the deceits and tricks of some people.”

“Guess so.”

“I think that’s sort of nice.”

“Are you patronizing me, Johnny?”

“No, not at all. I mean it. Thing is, there’s gonna come a time when your trust in people won’t be so natural.”

“You mean I’m gonna get callous and crusty like Detective Powell?”

He laughed. “You’d better not get like Powell. Here’s my suggestion. Get Claire talking about Charlie, see if she’s as naïve as you think.”

“I tried that tonight but she was too squirrelly to concentrate.”

“Try it again. Maybe she’ll lead you down a path that opens the way for you.”

“I’m not sure what path that’d be but I’ll try. Meanwhile Charlie Ladd’s bein held somewhere and these kidnappers aren’t callin. Plus, I don’t think Powell has any suspects for Cooper’s murder.”

“I heard through the grapevine he’s convinced it’s Ladd. Thinks Ladd’s flown the coop. Course he doesn’t know this latest wrinkle. The kidnapping.”

“And yer not gonna tell him, are ya?”

“Would I do that?”

I realized then that I honestly didn’t know, cause I didn’t know Johnny Lake that well. It’d been months, not years.

“Why the silence?” he asked.

“I don’t
think
you’d do somethin like tellin Powell about the kidnappin, but I don’t
know
ya wouldn’t.”

Now
he
was silent.

“Johnny?”

“I was just thinking about how well I know you, and if the tables were turned what would I believe? Okay. I give you my word and that’s the best I can do.”

“I do believe yer a man of his word.”

“Thanks.”

“I think I better get to bed.”

“You might have a lot on your hands tomorrow.”

“I got a question. Has anybody been in touch with David Cooper’s family?”

“Don’t know. You’ll have to talk to Powell about that.”

I didn’t say anything.

He caught on. “You want me to ask him, right?”

“I know we agreed not to get into each other’s cases, but he’d be more likely to tell you.”

“True. I’ll have to think up a good one for why I wanna know.”

“I have complete faith in yer ability to do that, Johnny.”

We both laughed.

“I’ll try to find out about the Coopers tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

We said our good nights, but not the words I knew we both wanted to say. I wondered how long it would take us to get to that point, or if we ever would.

Zach was twirling around my ankles. I laughed when I thought of what I’d told Claire about him. And how easy it all fit. Good thing she didn’t actually say the words
do you sleep
with Zachary?
cause I woulda had to either lie or say yes. Zach never let me sleep alone.

Saturday was my day to do chores and clean my place. Before I started, I drank a cup a joe and smoked a cig. I’d called Claire first thing but she still hadn’t heard. She was bawling her head off but I calmed her down a little.

Saturday was also a day I’d think on a case if I had one. And boy did I have one. I hadda wonder what Claire’s parents were thinking. They musta known about it from the papers if not from Claire. But she never mentioned them. Did they know Claire’s army private? Did they care that their daughter’s boyfriend was missing?

Someone knocked on my door. I hoped it wasn’t Dolores cause I wasn’t in the mood. And please, not Jim Duryea. I put down my cup and went to answer the door. Standing there were two soldiers with bands on their arms that identified them as military police. The shorter one looked me up and down. I had on a short-sleeve blouse, slacks, and sandals— my Saturday duds.

“See anything ya like?” I said.

“Are you Miss Quick?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I’m Sergeant Cagney and this is Sergeant Grahame.”

“How can I help ya, soldier?”

Cagney’s eye twitched. “May we come in?”

“What’s this about?” I was pretty sure I knew.

“We’d like to talk to you about privates Charles Ladd and David Cooper.”

I opened the door wider and they filed in like schoolkids, each removing his hat and tucking it under his arm.

“Can I getya anything?”

“No, thank you,” Cagney said.

“Wanna sit down?”

“Thank you,” Grahame said.

They spotted my cup in front of the sofa so they took the opposite one, each of them sitting like they had rods up their backs, feet flat on the floor, hands on their knees. Real relaxed.

I offered them coffee but they thankfully refused. I picked up my java and had a swallow, put it back on the table. Then I went for my cig. “So what can I do for ya?”

Grahame said, “It’s come to our attention that you’re a . . . a . . . private investigator. Is that true?”

You woulda thought he was asking me if I was a member of the Mafia. “That’s right.”

“And you’re working on a case that includes both Ladd and Cooper?”

“My case has to do with Ladd, but since Cooper was found in Ladd’s room it’s hard to separate the two.”

“Miss Quick, we’re here to ask you to drop that case.”

People telling me what to do didn’t go down easy with me.

“The Ladd case?”

“And anything to do with Private David Cooper.”

“Why?”

“This is a government case,” Cagney said.

“Cause the boys are in the army?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me. My client is a civilian.”

“Miss Turner. We know.”

I kept my trap shut.

“Miss Turner hired you four days ago to find Private Ladd, didn’t she?”

“I can’t answer that. Privileged information.”

“Yes, but we’re government employees.”

“So?”

“That gives us the right to know anything we want.”

“I don’t think so. Anyway, I’m not tellin you who my client is.”

They looked at each other and Grahame took over.

“Will you tell us if you’ve found Private Ladd?”

If I answered one question, would I have to answer them all? Whether I found Charlie or not wasn’t privileged. “No. I haven’t found him. Have you? Cause if ya have, I sure would like to know.”

They looked at me like I’d given em a right hook.

“Miss Quick, I don’t think you understand.”

“Oh, sure I do. You wanna get info from me, some of which I can’t give ya. Some I can. I said I haven’t found Charlie, so what else?”

“You found the body of Private Cooper, is that correct?”

“Correct. You call his parents yet?”

“We’re asking the questions.”

“Isn’t this a give-and-take?”

“Did you identify him?”

“I’d never seen him before.”

“Then did Claire Turner identify him?”

“She didn’t identify Private Cooper cause she didn’t know him, either.”

“She’d never
met
Private Cooper.”

“Correct.”

They looked at each other again.

Cagney said, “Who
did
identify him?”

“How come ya don’t know?”

“We’re not at liberty to tell you that, Miss Quick. We have privileges, too.”

“That must be nice for ya.”

“Again. Who
did
identify him?”

“I believe it was a George Cummings. A friend of the deceased.”

“Are you trying to find out who killed Private Cooper?”

I was and I wasn’t. My job was to find Charlie and if along the way I found out who knocked off Cooper, that’d be a bonus to the cops. But these turkeys? “No, I’m not tryin to find Cooper’s killer.”

“Why not? Never mind,” Cagney said. “We want you to stop looking for Private Ladd.”

“Why?”

“I thought you understood. Ladd is the government’s problem.”

“So what? Wouldn’t it be a good thing if I found him for ya?”

“Miss Quick. You must cease and desist.”

“And if I don’t? The stockade for me?”

They stood up like they were Siamese twins. “We’ve warned you, Miss Quick. You may no longer search for Private Ladd.”

“Or?”

“We’ll have you arrested.”

“So it is the stockade then.” I stubbed out my butt.

“You’re a private citizen. You’ll go to a regular jail.”

I thought they were full of it, but I went along so they’d get outta my crib. “Okay. Now ya got me worried.”

Grahame said, “Somehow, Miss Quick, I very much doubt it. But don’t underestimate us. Good morning.”

When they were gone, I called Marty at his precinct, and miracle of miracles the mug was there. I told him about my visit.

“They can’t stop ya, Faye.”

“I didn’t think so. But I wonder why they’d want to.”

“Probably routine. I’ll try to find out. But I got some news. Mrs. Ladd’s gone home. Couldn’t take it. Mr. Ladd’s still here. Also, Raymond and Thelma Cooper are in town.”

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