Angel
and the Private Eye
I
sit here in my
dark still
office, reclining in this seasoned
leather chair with my feet up on the edge the cherry wood desk. The
remainder
of the whiskey drips
into the glass
like
the last
of a
warm
summer rain weeping
from a
gently
bobbing
elm
leaf into a still
puddle, filling
almost to the rim. I reach over the edge
of the desk without looking and drop the bottle into waste basket. It
hits the bottom with an
overt
metallic gong. Of course it would, I haven't had a case in nearly two
months.
That's the last
bottle of whiskey I will be buying until I see another paycheck. At
least the rent is paid through the end
of August,
I have a few more months before I have to worry about that!
I
finger the glass and hold it
up
to the ambient
city light
coming
in through the window behind me,
admiring the swirls spinning through the amber liquid caused by the
melting ice. It wasn't until the third or maybe forth knock, that I
realize someone is
at the door. I slide
my feet slowly to the floor and lean forward in the chair all in one
motion, bringing the glass to my mouth so I can
take at least one drink before it's
too watered down.
I
can see through the frosted pane
of the door that it's a dame on the other side. I take
another quick drink.
"Come
in, the door's open." I
turn the desk lamp on.
The
knob rotates
slowly
stops,
hesitates
is
more like it, finally it clicks
and then
opens.
I can't
believe my luck when I see
what
stepped through. She is
the sexiest brunette I've
ever laid eyes on.
"Um,
can I help you?" Stumbling to my
feet.
"Are
you Detective Andrew
Cherry?"
She asked. The nerves in her voice cracked like popcorn in an open
flame.
I
offer the lady a seat, she seems
pretty upset. I don't
care, seeing
that
diamond necklace hanging around her neck, with
the
smallest stone in that choker
I
can
restock my booze cabinet for a year.
"That's
the name on the door!" She didn't appear to get the humor.
I
sit
on the corner of the desk nearest the chair she had taken so I can
get a read on her. "Yeah, I'm Andrew Cherry. What seems to be
your trouble miss?"
"My
husband and his business partner disappeared....they
left three weeks ago on hunting trip to upstate New York and were
only supposed to be gone for ten days. Neither one has been seen
since! I was told you're one
of
the best! Please can you find them!" She pleads.
"What
did
you say your name was?" I ask.
"I
didn't. I can't....I can't tell you my name because if people
find out my husband is missing it will be....bad."
"Well
just how am I supposed to find someone if don't know their name, tell
me that?" I figure I better do something to change her mind. I
need some leads and a name is pretty
good
one to have.
"Listen
lady, I can't help you. You'll have to find some other schmuck for
this job. Have a nice day!" I slid off the corner of the desk,
ease
around and into my
chair, put my feet up on the desk and lean back to the position I was
in before she knocked on the door.
"Okay,
my name...is Angel...Angel Sullivan." She whispered.
I
deliberately
ease
my
shoes
to the floor, lean forward, elbows and forearms stretching onto the
desk.
"You're
Lucky Sullivan's wife?" I breathed
back.
"Yes."
"You
sure you want him found?" I said a little louder and maybe a
little too
casual.
“I
know what people think of Lucky but he really is a good man.” Angel
murmured.
I
don't need convinced of Lucky's character, he is useless scum. “Tell
me everything you do know about this trip Lucky went on, Mrs.
Sullivan.”
Angel
disclosed
to
me where her husband was supposed to be hunting while I pour her a
glass of water without ice, I had used the last of it for my drink.
The
water was still cool from earlier. I
hand Angel the glass as I passed by on the way back to my chair.
Angel
talked for another forty minutes or so while I
listen and take
notes, and sip on my drink. I ask an occasional question, just to
make it seem
like I'm
interested, I'm
really not.
Not interested in finding Lucky Sullivan in the least. If you ask me,
Angel, and the world would be better off without him!
But
she is
going
to pay
me to find him, so I have
to
pretend to look for a day or two. Okay, I won't
pretend. It isn't in my moral fiber to take a dames money and lie to
her about her husband. I'll head up north in the morning and check
out the hunting lodge and town.
"...so
what do you think Mr. Cherry?"
"Huh,
oh, well see, I think I'll head up to the lodge in the morning like I
said before, and then poke around the town and see what that kicks
out."
"What
if you don't find anything there?"
"Then
I come back here and go to his place of business. Don't worry I won't
tell them who I'm working for or what I want." I
reassure.
"Alright.
Whatever you think is best." She said.
I
see
Angel to the door, shake
her hand and said goodbye. I watch her walk to the elevator before I
close the door, just because I want to.
In
the morning I make
the long insipid
drive
up to the lodge. I
have no animosity
toward
nature but all these trees remind me
too much of the Ardennes,
and the war.
The
lodge,
I
find
when I arrive, is more of a four star hotel in the middle of the
forest. No wonder all these rich bastards leave their wives at home
and come up here to hunt.
Although,
I'm not sure it's the four legged variety of animal they may be
hunting way up here.
Prior to
speaking with
the desk manager, Crockett, I
first
have
to contrive a story about being a friend of friend of Sullivan's, to
make like I was planning on joining this boys club. I spin
the whitewash
for an hour before I get
around to asking Crockett
when
the last time Sullivan was here.
"Oh
we haven't seen Mr. Sullivan for nearly six weeks
I'd say. Which is normal because he usually stops in about five or
six weeks for at least a few days to a week."
"Yeah,
that scoundrel told me he was going to be here this week. That's why
I came up here today!" I made like we were old friends.
The
manager's attitude toward me changed, eased I guess you could
say.
"You
know, he and his partner had a meeting the last time they were here
with 43rd
Street Jake. I couldn't hear anything that was
being said
but it sure didn't look like it went so well."
"You
don't say..." Trying
not to seem too
interested as I look around.
We
wander the grounds another hour or so before returning
to the lodge where I
tell
Crockett I will
be in touch about the membership. He hands
me a
few brochures
and
I
thank
him
for his time.
In
town I ask about the lodge and Sullivan. I stop in at the diner, the
gas station and even the grocery store. It
is
a different story here. Either nobody
knows
anything, or
they aren't
talking.
I
can't
tell which it is.
With
nothing else to look for and no questions left to ask, I head back to
the city.
I
spend
the
sleepless
night in my tropical,
cramped apartment, thinking about how to approach 43rd
Street Jake tomorrow. Dealing
with Jake
can be tricky,
so
is
not getting killed. With
Jake,
it's
one in the same, he's
no
one
to mess around with. I'd had my run ins with him when I was on the
force, but that was years ago. Jake was a punk kid back then stealing
apples from sidewalk stands and pitching pennies in alleys.
He
worked his way to the top protecting
shop
owners on 43rd street. Anybody that didn't pay, got robbed once,
beaten the second time. They usually
paid
before there was a third. Eventually Jake
expanded to 44th,
then 45th.
Before
too long he controlled an
area of several
city blocks square
and
had a gang of around
fifty. Now he runs a quarter of the city and is one of the most
feared criminals
and respected business men in
it. Yeah, this day is going to be just peachy!
I
drifted
into
the 43rd Street Nightclub, Jake’s hangout. It was smoky and jazz
was playing through it like The Sirens calling ships eerily to their
doom. There were a lot of new faces in Jake’s gang and
probably the reason
nobody stopped me at the door, or when I took my old stool at the
bar.
“What’ll
be Mr. Cherry?”
I
turned my head toward the bartender, “Al.” I nodded, “Whiskey
on the rocks. Hasn't changed. How you been?”
“Hasn't
changed here either Mr. Cherry.”
“Al,
how many times have I told you to call me Andy?”
“Lost
count Mr. Cherry.” Al said while drying a glass he had just pulled
from the water.
“You’re
never going to, are you Al?”
“Probably
not, Mr. Cherry.” He
returned with a grin.
“That’s
what I like about you Al! Honesty! You don’t find that
anymore!”
“Find
what, Andy?” The
deep
whisper
of Jake's baritone
voice
cut
through the music in
my right ear causing
the hair to stand up on my arms and the back of my neck.
“Jake...,
how have you been?” My
voice reacts like the hair on my neck.
“Relax
Andy, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made into the club.”
Jake said with
a friendly smile
while patting me on the back. “So what’s this I hear about
you
up at the hunting lodge asking questions about a membership? You
don’t seem the hunting type to me. Animal hunting anyway.” He
laughed.
I
joined in the humor, “Well you caught me. I’m looking to buy it
for my retirement!”
Jake
slapped me on the back really hard and let out a boisterous laugh,
“Oh that’s a good one! Al, give
Andy
another one on me.”
“Comin' right
up.”
“Thanks,
Jake.”
Al
set the glass down in front of me and strolled
down to the other end of the bar.
“Now
Andy, why are you here, really?” Jake looked me dead in the eye, I
knew I had better make up the
perfect lie, ….or tell him the truth.
“Okay,
here it is Jake. A couple days ago this dame comes into my office
looking for her husband who has gone missing. The last place he told
her
he was going was the hunting lodge up
north.
So I ask around up there and someone says they saw him talking to
you. This was a few days before he disappeared. I’m not saying you
had anything to do with it, I’m just
tracing
his steps. That’s why I’m here.”
“Well,
I’m
glad you don’t think I had anything to do with it!” He laughs.
“Because
that might hurt my feelings!”
“Yeah....,
I wouldn’t want to do that now would I Jake.” I down the first
drink and slide the glass down the bar toward Al.
“So
what is this blokes name?”
“Um.”
How am I going to do this? I raised the glass of whiskey I’d been
playing with and took a large swig.
“Come
on Andy, out with it? What’s his name? It can’t be that much of
secret! Hell,
it’s
not like you’re looking for Lucky Sullivan or anything!”
My
grip loosed on the
glass. I
watched as it tumbled away, rebounding
off the rounded
edge
of the bar sending
ice flying
to
eye level, then
with
an almost inaudible crash, glass
shattering
when
it finally impacted the floor.
Choking
on the whiskey that had not quite made it past my tongue when I
inhaled at the name Lucky
Sullivan.
“Holy
SHIT! You ARE looking for Lucky! You’re working for Angel? She
thinks he’s missing? Oh, this is rare, just
rare!
Listen, Andy. Here’s what you’re going to do.” Jake was talking
really fast now. Like urgency was the important thing right now. “Go
home..., go
home
and wait for a phone call. You
be told what to do from there. It's critical when you get that call,
you
follow those instructions exactly.
Angel will see Lucky soon.”
“Wait...,
let me get this straight! So Lucky's not missing! You know where he
is? Right
now?" I'm either about to die or the second luckiest man on the
planet.
"Did
I just say that! I thought I just said that!" Jake said looking
around at his guys for affirmation. "Finish your drink, and
go!" I
hadn't noticed Al put another drink in front me. Jake
swiveled
slowly off the bar chair, slapped
me hard on the left shoulder twice
and
march
back toward his office. He moved with confidence, power and a
hint of malevolence.
Not
that I was afraid but the other people in the club were, I could see
it their faces.
"Hey,
Andy! Don't be a stranger. It gets boring around here!" Jake
bellowed
while he waved over his head without looking back.
"Sure
thing Jake!" I yelled back. I'm
not sure if he heard me over the music.
I
left the club, and after I was sure I wasn't being followed, headed
uptown to one of my favorite bars to use the phone.
"Hey
lieutenant, I think I may need your help in a day or two....yeah, a
case I'm working just threw me a curve and I think I'm being played
for a fool....ha ha, have your fun, just be ready to meet me when I
need you alright? Sure...sure...okay, expect my call in
a day or two.
Okay."
The
ringing of the conch
shell
interrupted my nap on the beach. “Hello?”
“Cherry?”
The nameless
voice on the other end asked.
“Who
else would it be? You called me, remember? You know, I was in the
south pacific a few seconds ago, and it was pretty nice
there!”
“Huh?”
He sounded as confused as I was pissed.
“Never
mind, what time is it?” I glance
at my watch through nebulous
eyes, three thirty five in the morning, shit.
He
ignored my question, “Listen, Cherry. Be at your office with Angel
Sullivan in one hour, got it!”
“One
hour? Sure mac, one hour, got...” The phone went dead, “...it.”
That
was rude, his
is
mother should teach him proper telephone etiquette.
I
call
Angel first,
because
everyone
knows it
takes women way too long to get ready for anything, that’s just a
fact, “Hello Angel, I’ve got some good news.”
“You
found him!” She shrieked. I knew I should have held the phone away
from my ear.
“Yeah,
but for reasons I can’t explain right now we have to meet at my
office in an hour. Can you be there?”
“An
hour, oh, sure, sure, I can be there in an hour.” Sounding
winded
as if she was already dressing which
I'm sure she was.
“Alright
Angel, I’ll meet you there, in an hour.” The next call I make
is
to the lieutenant I used work with. We go way back.
“Hey
lieutenant, it’s Andy.”
“What
the hell time is it
Cherry?”
“Three
forty. Listen, Mike. It’s going down now at my office in about
forty five minutes. They just called to set it up. I already called
Angel.”
“I’ll
get my guys down there in twenty. You said that office across from
yours is never locked?”
“Right,
but make sure you stay in the back room because they can open the
door too!”
“I’ll
have a few men on the street. I hope you’re right about this
because I’m gunna get hit with a bag of overtime on this one,
Cherry.”
“I
think I am Mike, but who can tell with gangsters and love?”
“Alright,
I’ll call it in and see you
after
it all plays out.”
“Thanks
Mike, see
you there.”
I
arrive about twenty after four, Angel is
already
waiting anxiously
by my office door wearing
a snow white evening dress with sequins,
a
matching
white scarf.
It
almost looks like a wedding dress. I
flashed
a glance
at the unlocked office as I walked passed, no sign of the
cops
inside.
Good. If I couldn’t see them, chances
are pretty good Lucky
wouldn't
either.
I
hope they're in there.
“Good
morning, Angel. Come on in.” I slip the key in and unlock the door.
It sticks
as usual so I deliver
slight kick at the bottom, it gives.
“There we go.” I let Angel through the door first, check the hall
then follow and close it behind me. “I
got to fix that door
one
of these days.”
“Where
is he? Where’s Lucky? You said he’d be here!” She hammers
my desk with her fist.
“Whoa.”
I put my hands out to
calm her down,
“First
off, I never said Lucky would be HERE. I said we needed to meet
here!”
“WHAT!
You lied! Why? What do you
want
from me?” She seemed truly agitated.
“Settle
down Angel. I also didn’t say Lucky wouldn’t be here, but there
are a few things you need to know first. It seems there was this
girl, a dancer at a club down on forty-third, he’d been seen with a
lot…”
“I
don’t believe you!” She cut me off.
“I’m
just telling what I heard. Do you want to know or not?” She nodded,
“Anyway, she turned up dead and that’s why Lucky has been laying
low. The cops think he had something to do with it, lovers quarrel
and all that.”
“He
wouldn’t do that! He wouldn’t!”
“You’re
probably right. He would have had one of his henchmen do it.” I
made a slashing motion across my throat.
“Who
was she? Do you know?”
“Sheila…something?
I wasn’t paying attention when the cops told
me.”
“NO..NO..no..Sheila
O’Reily?” Angel shook her head in disbelief.
“That
sounds right, you know her?”
Angel
sank calmly into the chair nearest her, seemingly defeated by some
unknown adversary.
“We
grew up on the same street. I’ve known her my whole life…we were
best friends.” Angel’s voice trailed off, her eyes focused on
some distance point far beyond the office window. A single tear
rolled down her right cheek.
I
loud banging
on the door startled us both out of our chairs.
“Come
in.”
The
door rattled a few seconds, the handle jiggled, then the door rattled
again.
“Turn
the handle and kick the bottom!” I yelled.
The
door popped open and there stood two goons I recognized from Lucky’s
crew.
"Come
in gentlemen, is your boss with you?"
"Yes,
where's Lucky? Where's my husband?" Angel pleaded.
"I'm
right here sweetest." A tall man in a
black
suit and hat rounded the corner and stepped into the office. "Hello
dear' how have you been."
"HOW
HAVE I BEEN?” Angel
sounding agitated at first, “How
have I been? I was afraid you were dead." She
ended
solemnly.
"Really!
Should
I tell that to the police?" Lucky charged.
"What
do you
mean?"
Angel sounding
surprised by the accusation.
This
conversation wasn't going at
all
how I had expected, and
now it's becoming clear to me what the
circumstances may actually be.
All of
the running around I've been doing, questions I've been asking, have
they been about the wrong thing, the wrong person? I
knew
was
in the middle of a love triangle gone awry
but
I think I am definitly on the wrong leg of this one.
"What
ARE you talking about Lucky?" I asked.
"Stay
out of this Cherry, this is none of your concern now." Lucky
snapped.
"There
is the matter of my bill."
"Open
your mouth again and I'll have one of my boys bust your head."
Lucky
announced in the cold careless
manner I remember from earlier
days.
“That's
the Lucky I remember, you can try and fool the members of society by
giving to charities and throwing big parties but you'll never change.
You can't the hoodlum out of a punk like you Lucky.” I
step toward Lucky. That
speech might have gone a little too far,
"You're a guest in my office Lucky, maybe you should show a
little respect."
One
of Lucky's thugs reached into suit. I ease
back. Fine time to leave my gun in the desk.
Lucky
reached his hand over and stopped him. "There's no need for
that."
"Anybody
want a drink? I've got whiskey and whiskey." I offered, trying
break the tension and also gain the opportunity to get back behind my
desk.
"Yeah,
I'll take a one thanks." Lucky looked at the
two guys in the room with us, "Boys?" He offered, everyone
in the room knew they would refuse. They both shook their heads to
just to confirm.
"Lucky,
where have been?" Angel asked again.
"Hiding
from the cops, because they think I killed Sheila, isn't that right
boys?" Lucky
looked around, they
didn't move, "Pretty sure that bullet was meant for me
though."
"How
so Lucky?" I asked.
"Well,
you see Cherry, I was standing right next to Sheila when she was
gunned down. I think the person holding the gun wasn't such a good
shot."
"So
you saw who did it?"
"Did
I say that Cherry? Sheila was shot in the back or didn't your copper
friends forget
to mention
that? Yeah, I thought
so."
I
pour three drinks at my liquor cabinet. I hand Lucky his first,
reaching
out as not to get to close.
“No
ice?” Lucky asks.
“Sorry,
fresh out. I been busy.” I made a motion between Angel and him and
smiled.
Lucky
chuckled.
I
pick
up the other two drinks,
hand
one to Angel, walk around my desk, sit down in my chair and put my
feet up on the corner of the desk by the drawer holding my gun. I
never practiced getting the gun out of that drawer fast because I've
never had a reason before. Guess I'll be practicing or maybe I'll
move it to a holster under my desk that way I won't have to open a
drawer.
"Keep
your hands where I can see them Cherry." Lucky was
suspicious.
I
lean back a little further in my chair, "Relax, Lucky. I'm just
here for the paycheck, so I don't care if your wife pays me, or you
pay me, I just know I'm owed about a hundred and fifty
bucks."
"You're
not getting anything, Cherry." Lucky smirked.
"Don't
worry Andy, you'll get paid." Angel said.
"Andy
is it? Something I should know about? Should I be jealous, dearest?"
Lucky mocked.
"No
more than I, dearest Lucky." Angel gulped down her whiskey, as
her head tilted back, the necklace she wore the first time I met her
exposed itself from under the scarf she had draped around her neck.
"Here Mr. Cherry." Angel reached into her purse.
The
shots
rang out before I had
time to move my feet!
Angel fell in front of my desk, the gun she was holding skidded
across the floor. One of Lucky's thugs stood holding a 45. I reach in
the drawer, he fired, the window behind me shattered. I duck behind
the desk and felt for the 38 Special in the open drawer. I
felt the cold blue metal!
Two more shots hit the top of the desk, I jump out sideways from the
desk and fire two shots of my own hitting the goon with the gun. He
spun around and fired a round into Lucky's left arm. I fire two more
quick shots then duck back behind my desk.
"You're done Lucky, the cops are across the hall, they'll be here in
seconds!" I yell, my ears ringing from all the gunfire.
"Let's
get out of here boss!" One
of his men yells.
I
fire four shots through the wall where I think someone is
standing.
I
barely heard footsteps heading down the hallway.
"Lucky
Sullivan, stop, this is leut...." Gunshots rang out again. The
window in my office door exploded. I'm not sure how many bullets were
fired but it seemed to be at least fifteen.
I
jump up and rush
around the desk
to Angel. She was laying on her side motionless, blood covered her
chest, neck and left shoulder. I carefully remove the scarf from her
around neck, ball it up and press it to the bullet hole in Angel's
chest. I'm so intent on stopping the bleeding that didn't noticed
anyone else had entered the room.
"Andy...,
Andy! Come on, she's gone." The lieutenant tapped me on the
shoulder.
"Yeah,
sure. I know." I stand up, "Her gun's over there. I think
you'll find that's the one that killed Sheila O'Neil. I guess she was
just a jealous wife that didn't want to share her husband so she
tried to take care of him."
"Tried
to take care of him?"
"Yeah,
but she hit Sheila by mistake. They were best friends since
childhood, I guess blamed Lucky for the infidelity and not
Sheila."
"So
what happened here?" Lieutenant
Mike asked.
"Well,
we were having a nice conversation until
Angel pulled a gun, I'm not sure if she fired first because I was
looking down at the time, but this guy here shot her in the chest. I
pulled my gun out of the desk and shot him, he shot Lucky in the arm,
I dove back behind the desk, told them you guys were across the hall
and they left. That's when you took over, is Lucky dead?"
"Yeah,
so is his buddy. I got one injured officer."
"Is
he going to be alright?"
"Leg
wound, he should be fine."
"Good."
I look down at Angel laying on the floor, a sparkle caught my eye
under the tangled mass of her usually perfectly combed hair. I reach
down and slip the broken diamond necklace from Angels dark
locks.
"What
do you got there?" Mike
asked.
My
hearing was starting to come back a little and I can hear the street
noise filling the office, "Oh. Evidence I guess. She was wearing
this, it must of
been
broken by the bullet. Heck of a thing."
"Yeah,
heck of a thing. I'll make sure it gets tagged. Not sure what's going
to happen to it though. Auction I guess along with everything else in
Lucky's estate."
After
I gave my official statement, the police left, and the coroner took
the bodies away, I got a broom, dustpan, mop, bucket full of hot
water and some rags from the janitors closet. Back in my office I
start to pour a drink, oh the hell with the glass! I take the bottle
and from my chair between swigs, I stare at the bullet holes in the
desk.
"Shit,
my desk is shot up, my door is shot up, my window is shot up, and I
didn't get paid.” I
look out the broken window toward the sky, “Thanks
Angel!" I take a giant gulp of whiskey from the bottle, "Well,
the blood isn't going to clean itself."
I
start by sweeping up the glass, careful not to get any
of the now drying sanguine syrup on
the broom. With
the mop to got majority of the it
off the floor, not that that was a lot. When people die fast their
heart doesn't have a chance to pump much
out.
Good for me, I guess. After half a bottle of booze and two water
changes I'm almost done. On my hands and knees scrubbing with an old
rag, I'm wiping up the last of the water when something scratches
across the floor. I lifted the rag a shake it, nothing falls out. I
run my hand across worn wood grain and fell the pebble that is
causing the mischief. It is coated with coagulated blood and is about
the size of small pea with rough edges.
“Damn
glass is everywhere.”
I
rinsed the rag and placed the pebble in it then rolled it around to
remove some
of the
blood. I open the rag it is as I suspected, broken glass. I pick the
shard out of the rag, give
it one more wipe to remove the last of the sticky redness
and toss it at the waste basket in a high arc, as
the shard floats through the air, the light from the lamp, and
hallway hit it at the same time and I see that it isn't glass at all!
I jumped at the basket to catch the diamond before it falls
into the broken mass of crystal infinity.
The
can topples over with crash almost as loud as the gunshots that were
heard earlier in the morning, the shattered glass spills out onto the
freshly cleaned floor.
"Great!
That's what I need. Another mess to clean up." Laying on my side
with my
arm extended and hand clinched tight, I slowly open my fist one
finger at a time. My hand fully open I get
to feet, take
a few gulps of the half empty bottle sitting on my desk. Carrying
the bottle with
me around the desk, all
the time staring
down
at the palm of my hand, I
go to my chair and sit down very
gently.
Smiling,
I lean back, put my feet up and
begin
to roll
that clear faceted
stone
between my finger and thumb watching it
sparkle.
"Thanks,
Angel." I
drink myself into oblivion.