“Yeah, but this just isn’t logical.”
“Logic is a mutable commodity,” Ivy said. “Looking at this series of events, from Marta’s nightmare to Salvatori’s claims, with an open mind and a non-prejudicial attitude, leads me to the conclusion that there is definitely something here that may defy logic. Many things are not considered logical, or even possible, until they happen. This is happening, Crockett! The evidence is all around you.”
Crockett smiled. “Well, yeah, Ivy,” he said, “but tell us how you really feel about it.”
Ivy’s eyes twinkled. “Should I?”
“I just find it a little difficult to believe that there is a ghost out there who wants something from me.”
“How about a spiritual entity that needs your assistance?”
“That’s not so bad,” Crockett said.
“A discarnate damsel in distress, as it were.”
“Getting better.”
Ivy sighed. “Well,” she said, “it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you labored to attain justice for a beautiful woman who had been plucked from this life before her time, would it?”
Rachael’s image flashed through Crockett’s mind. The memory of her death and his subsequent deeds instantly took his strength and brought tears welling to his eyes. He looked at his hands as they gripped each other and said nothing. The room was silent for a moment. Ruby put her hand on his arm.
Clete cleared his throat. “Speaking of damsels in distress,” he said, removing a folder from the table and handing it to Crockett, “take a peek.”
Inside the folder was a version of the artist’s rendering of LaVonne Goldstein as she would have looked with blond hair, Marta’s dead ringer for Leona Marie Walters. Another conception of the sketch showed the young woman as she might appear at approximately sixty years of age. The first treatment held Crockett’s attention.
“Pretty, huh?” said Clete.
“I know her,” Crockett said, swallowing the lump in his throat and getting on with business.
“What?”
“I know her. I mean, I know this face. I’ve seen her someplace. The blond hair brought it up.”
“Where do you know her from?”
“I can’t place it, but she’s familiar to me. I’ve seen her before.”
“Maybe it’s because she looks so much like the original drawing.”
“No. It’s not the same person. I have seen this girl somewhere, a long time ago.”
“Spookier and spookier,” Clete said. “How ‘bout you, Ruby?”
“Not me,” Ruby said. “Gorgeous though.”
Clete stood up. “Well, I’m fixin’ to E-mail these to some people I know. We’ll see if we can’t get some kinda hit on these gals,” he said. “Then I’m outa here for a few days. I’ll say goodbye and farewell.”
He kissed Ivy on the cheek, hugged Ruby and whispered something in her ear, and shook Crockett’s hand.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything, Crockett,” he said. “You watch out for all them haints goin’ bump in the night and shit.”
“Keep your cinch tight, Texican.”
After Clete left, Ivy stood, crossed to behind Crockett’s chair, and placed a hand on each of his shoulders.
“Forgive me, Sir,” she said. “I ripped open an old wound, and I am profoundly sorry. As the words came from my mouth, I knew the hurt they could revive, and yet I said them anyway. They were not thoughtless, they were thoughtful, and designed to resurrect pain. It was cruelty masquerading as necessity. I see so much in you, Crockett, and sought your motivation. While my intention was honorable, my methodology was inexcusable. I apologize.”
Crockett crossed his arms and put a hand on each of hers.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you’d looked for a way to motivate me, would it?” he said.
“Raw meat usually works,” Ruby said. “It would be easier here than at our place, Ivy. You’ve got plenty of room to swing a whip.”
Ivy chuckled. “That’s good to know,” she said and released Crockett’s shoulders. “Dinner will be served at the usual hour, Children, but for only two. Cletus is leaving shortly and I shall be otherwise occupied. The pair of you are on your own. I will see you in the morning.”
They sat quietly for a few moments before Ruby reached for Crockett’s hand.
“Crockett,” she said, “after recent events and excesses, I think I am going to take a short nap before dinner. You okay?”
“I’m fine. The emotions surrounding Rachael and everything you and I went through are still just right there, y’know?”
“I know, Sweetie. Time means nothing to that level of pain. Ivy was so sorry.”
“I know she was. I have no problem with Ivy.”
“Good. Now, about the Amazing Disappearing Woman.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t get all caught up in this, David. You have a tendency to get a little obsessive when you can’t figure something out. This is too strange to allow it to get a hold on you.”
“I’m alright, Ruby. Honest. It’ll be interesting to see what else we get from Uncle Sal tomorrow. When we get back to Kaycee I’ll–”
“That’s what I mean, Dummy! Don’t make this a mission. Take it easy. You’re semi-retired. Be semi-retired. Clete told me to take care of you and that’s what I intend to do.”
“Doesn’t hurt to think about it.”
“It does if you think about it too much. It’s a mystery, Crockett. You unravel a mystery, you don’t wade in there and rip the dammed thing apart!”
“Whatever you say, Dear.”
“Alright. Finally some progress. Why don’t you give me about fifteen minutes to settle in and get to sleep, then come up and use my tub. You won’t disturb me.”
“Damn. What if I want to disturb you?”
Ruby smiled and patted his hand.
“We’ll fall off that bridge when we get to it,” she said. “Take a nice long soak. Do you good.”
Crockett stared out across the lawn for a while, unable to get the blond out of his head. He’d seen her before.
Somewhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rest of the story
When Ruby and Crockett walked into Horizon Manor the next afternoon, Mrs. Thorsen was at the desk. She rose and smiled.
“Back again, you two?”
“This’ll be our last trip for a while,” Ruby said. “How’s Uncle Sal today?”
“Better than usual. He was picking on me on his way to the recreation room a few minutes ago. I think your visits did him a lot of good. Got his brain working. He seems more interested and aware. Down the hall, third door on your left.”
The recreation room was about forty by sixty feet with one wall of windows facing the lawn and walking paths. Several tables were occupied by card and domino players. Sal was sitting in shadow looking out over the lawn, eating a cookie. He finished it as he saw them and waved, recognizing Ruby from across the room.
Sal turned his wheelchair to face them. “Good to see you again, Ruby,” he said, “Another visit. You’re going to spoil me.”
Ruby kissed him on the cheek. “Who deserves it more than you?” she said.
Sal smiled. “And of all the things I deserve, this is the best.”
They small talked a while before he asked to see the picture again. As he looked at it, Sal’s face became animated.
“Tony Boy always was a hound for the women, but with Vonda it was different,” he said. “I mean she had some kinda hold on him, or something. Not that she was one a them schemers, or nothing like that. She was a user, sure, but so was he. Hell, we all were. She used his contacts to get jobs in the clubs. Human nature to look out for number one. What I’m saying is, as far as I could see, she never come to him begging for stuff, asking for help, wanting presents or gifts, that kinda thing. She wasn’t no golddigger. Seemed like he was her way to getting independent. She hadn’t been in Kaycee much more than a year before sh
e’d got her own place, makin’ her own money, driving her own car, paying her own bills. Tony wasn’t so hot for her getting too far on her own. Up to him, he’d rather had her sitting on her ass in that little apartment he rented for her, just waiting for him to blow back into town. He didn’t like it, but what the hell? He had such a thing for her that he woulda let her get away with almost anything. We’d drive out from Chicago and, by the time we’d finally get there, he’d be a wreck! This is a made man! Tony Boy Castanza, for crissakes, actin’ like some little kid ‘cause of a woman.”
Sal shook his head, as if to loosen his memory.
“He used to love to watch her in the clubs, on stage, moving through the place, being appreciated by the crowd in the joint. He was proud of her. Scared of losing her too, I think. Used to pay one of the guys an extra double sawbuck a week just to keep an eye on her. She didn’t go out with nobody else, didn’t sneak around, kept up her end of the deal, worked all the time. She did twelve, fourteen shows a week, up most of the night every night. Working that hard, a good lookin’ girl like her had to get her rest. She took good care of herself. Watched what she ate, how much she drank. Believe me, Tony had nothin’ to bitch about. She was doin’ all right, too. Makin’ at least an hundred and fifty bucks a week, probably more. Good money for a skirt back in those days. Then, two or three years down the road, she started posing for some art students. Tony didn’t like it.”
Sal brushed some cookie crumbs off his lap.
“You gotta understand that Tony Boy was not a reasonable man. He never had to be. He’d always had his father’s protection. Things pretty much went the way Tony wanted them to go. You get in Tony’s way, you apologize like you’re talkin’ to the Pope, get out of the way, and hope the hell it’ll all blow over. You don’t, things could get, ah, massive.”
His eyes glittered and he smiled at Crockett.
“You,” he said. “What’s your name again?”
“Call me Crockett.”
“Crockett,” Sal said, “you’re a tough guy. I can see it in your eyes. You’re also a smart guy, or Ruby wouldn’t put up with you. There ain’t no shortage of guys out there that think they’re tough, ‘cause they never had to be tough. Two ways to survive bein’ a tough guy. Be a tough guy like Tony, standing in his father’s shadow, is one. Be a tough guy like you, smart enough to know when to not be so tough, is two.”
The old man leaned forward and shifted in his seat.
“I told you that to tell you this,” he said. “Tony finds out Vonda’s posing for these students, he gets all up in the air. Now, this woman is onstage every night, selling everything she’s got to a room full of drunks, not wearing much more than a smile, he can deal with that. Three or four hours a week she’s sittin’ in a classroom, got a sheet draped over her, showing a little leg, a little shoulder, maybe a little somethin’ else, while ten or fifteen kids draw pictures of her, and he can’t stand it! He finds out where the art school is and we pay the art guy a visit.”
The old man shook his head.
“Christ, what a mess. The art guy makes a big mistake. He thinks he’s tough. He ain’t. Tony, real nice like, introduces himself and explains to the guy that Vonda don’t work there any more. That he will know if she does and, if she does, the guy won’t be able to draw nothin’ for a long time. The art guy, a queer by the way, gets all out of hand and starts threatening Tony with the police, insulting him, calling him names, and so on. By the time I pull Tony off the guy, the guy’s been hit by a chair, had both his hands stomped on, and had a can of blue paint poured in his mouth while he’s beggin’ for mercy. Subtlety is not one of Tony’s strong points.”
“Evidently not,” Crockett said.
“We go directly from the art guy’s place to her apartment. I tag along when he goes upstairs ‘cause I can see what kind of condition he’s in and I don’t want things to get out of hand. He busts in the place, blue paint all over his suit, and starts screaming at her that she’s a no good tramp and that she ain’t gonna be posing for the art guy no more. She shows a lot of moxie and screams right back at him that he can’t tell her what to do, and throws us out! We go downtown to the Muehlebach Hotel, Tony gets a room, a bottle, and two girls. I wait in the lobby for him to work out his aggressions.”
Sal took another cookie out of his shirt pocket.
“That night we go to the club where Vonda’s working. After the first set she comes over to the table and sits down. Very sweetly she explains to Tony that he’s the biggest lowlife to ever draw breath, that she don’t want to ever see his face again, that her friend, the art guy, is in the hospital, and that if Tony ever comes near her in the future, she’ll personally cut his nuts off just before she calls the cops. He pops her. Right there in the middle of that crowded club, he pops the star of the show! You can hear the punch clear across the freakin’ room! Breaks her nose!”
Sal laughed and leaned back in his chair.
“I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. She bounces up off the floor like she’s on springs, blood running down her chin and chest, grabs a bottle off the next table and wades in, swingin’ like the Babe on a Saturday afternoon. I can’t help it, I’m laughin’. I get between ‘em and she clips me one on the elbow that hurts for two days. Petey Mancini and one of his guys sorta get in Tony’s way for a minute while I grab Vonda and hustle her out the back. She’s clawing and scratching like a bobcat, calling Tony everything but the Virgin Mary, blood’s flying all over her and me! Finally I have to slap her to get her attention and throw her in the car. On the way to the hospital she breaks down and starts to cry. By the time I get back to the club I look like I been in a train wreck. Tony’s sitting at the table with his lower lip in his lap, and Petey Mancini is grinning from ear to ear, pouring scotch down Tony’s throat. I take Tony back to the Muehlebach and put him to bed. Whatta night!”
Sal chewed thoughtfully on the cookie for a moment before he continued.
“The next day he calls the hospital, tells ‘em the bill is on him and to spare no expense, sends her enough roses to decorate the Vatican, and we head back to Chicago. Over the next week he can’t do enough. He shoulda hired a train to carry all the stuff he’s shipping off to Kaycee. Flowers, jewelry, furs. Christ! He even calls a dealer and has him deliver her a brand new Studebaker! He’s calling her day and night, but she’s hanging up on him. He keeps trying. Finally, after about two weeks of this shit, she says she’ll see him. Off we go, back to Kansas City. I drop him off at her place and go to the hotel. When he don’t call or nothin’ by midnight, I figure they got back together. They did, but things were different. I mean, he owned her and they both knew it, but she found out she had some power. She liked it.”
Sal adjusted his position in the chair and grimaced.
“Within just a couple of months, she got picked up by the Reno Club. Bill Basie played at the Reno Club. Bus Moten played at the Reno Club. Kaycee was the place for music and entertainment, and Club Reno was the place in Kaycee. Vonda wasn’t headlining or anything like that, she didn’t have the talent, but she was the best lookin’ woman on the club circuit, and that made her a real attraction. She got so well known that a couple of big-time artists even hired her to pose for drawings and paintings. The doctors had fixed her nose like nothing had happened, and she was on her way. Meanwhile, Tony Boy and me are still spending time in Kansas City. He’s promised to get rid of his wife and two kids and marry her. That ain’t gonna happen. When you’re in the family and your wife is connected, you can do pretty much whatever you want, as long as you come home. This was a bunch of Goombahs! Made Men! Italian Catholics, for crissakes. You don’t divorce these guy’s daughters any more than you divorce these guys. There ain’t but one way you’re ever gonna leave, and when you leave that way, you don’t never come back. What Tony needs to do is kiss Vonda Gold goodbye, be a good family man, and buy whatever he needs whenever he needs it. But Tony’s got a thing for this woman. He’s still paying people to watch her, he�
��s still taking his trips, and he’s still living the fantasy. But now, after four or five years, Vonda is beginning to see the light.”
A staffer pushing a book cart drifted by and Sal waived her off.
“A year or so later, Vonda meets a guy. Just a guy. Named Walters. He sells insurance for a living, don’t know nothin’ about her connections, don’t know nothin’ about Tony Boy, don’t know nothin’ about nothin’. Vonda is seein’ him, and she’s seein’ Tony. Somebody gets careless and she turns up pregnant. Tony says he’ll take care of both her and the kid, but that’s the best he can do. He can’t leave his wife, he can’t piss off the family. He loves her, he’ll see she’s got no problems, and he’ll be over twice a month, just like always. Walters says he loves her, he wants a family of his own, and why don’t they get married. Vonda figures that she can have the kid, get back in shape, work the clubs, and make plenty of money without Tony’s help, so she says no to him and yes to the insurance guy. They get married in late’45 or early ’46 I think it was. Tony loses it.
By the time the war is over he is a wreck. All this time, he’s still payin’ guys to spy on Mrs. Walters! Her husband’s business is going well, they’re still living in her old apartment, they got a baby daughter, she’s quit work to stay at home and take care of the kid and, every Saturday, she’s going to church with the Jews. She’s a mom and she’s happy. The better things go for her, the worse they go for Tony. Eventually, he can’t stand it anymore and off we go to Kansas City.”
Ruby and Crockett waited while Sal had some more cookie.
“Tony, who just happens to be in the neighborhood, drops by to see her while her old man is at work. She tells him she don’t want nothin’ to do with him. Those days are over, she has a new life, on and on. He begs, he pleads, he threatens. Nothing. She won’t budge. Back we go to Chicago. For six months or so, Tony don’t do shit, then he calls her. During that call she explains she don’t need him, she’s got a husband. He explains to her that husbands have been known to disappear from time to time and, unless she gets a little more reasonable, she could be a widow. That pretty much drives her over the edge. This Jew church she goes to got a Rabbi named Mayberg or Mayerburg, or something like that. This guy’s got balls like melons. He fought the Pendergast machine, he’s in with the police commissioners, a couple of times guys tried to zots him, and still he don’t give up or shut up. She tells Tony that if he don’t leave her the hell alone, she’ll take everything she learned about the family connections in Chicago and Kansas City and go straight to this Rabbi with it. He’ll know what to do with the information. She makes it real clear to Tony that if he comes after her, she’ll go after him! That if he threatens her or her husband again, she’ll take him out to the ballgame!”
Grave Promise Page 13
