by Marja McGraw
“What’s that?” Prudy asked.
I grabbed it where he’d dropped it on the floor. “Just my napkin. I’ll throw it away since it’s been on the floor.” I fairly leapt out of my chair to rush for the trashcan before she could see the egg yolk beginning to ooze out of the sides.
“So,” I said, returning, “let’s talk more about Matthew. What else can you tell me?”
“Well, after Matt was killed, the neighborhood never was the same. No one trusted anyone else. Can’t say as I blamed ‘em. We needed to catch that killer, but every lead we came up with led to nothing. People began locking up tight. You know, in those days very few of us locked up at night. Things were just different.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Not so much crime. Neighbors knew and watched out for each other. That all changed after Matt’s death. You’d see people watching others out of the corner of their eye. The neighborhood get-togethers stopped. It’s hard to explain, but Matthew’s death made the war seem more real. I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but there was so much death and dying going on overseas, and this tragedy brought it home to us.”
“Actually, that does make sense,” I said. “You can hear about death, but until you actually see it, it doesn’t seem real.” Prudy had a good point and I understood it.
I stood and picked up our plates. “Okay, as soon as I clean up these dishes, I’m going to start making some calls to see if I can run any of these people down and talk to them. Let’s see what we can find out.”
“I’m going with you, doll,” Prudy said.
“You’re going where with me?” I asked, unfortunately already knowing the answer.
“To talk to these people. I’m back on the case, as of right now.” Prudy took one of the dishes out of my hand and headed for the sink, her curly white ponytail swinging.
I stood with my mouth hanging open.
Bubba grinned at me.
Ten
Prudy insisted on cleaning the dishes, so I got the telephone book from the office and headed for the couch in the living room, pencil and paper in hand.
I found Milton Framer, better known as Slim, listed at his old family address. After punching in the numbers, the phone rang twice before a woman answered.
“Hello,” I said. “Is Mr. Framer at home?”
“He was just leaving. Hold on and I’ll see if I can catch him.”
I waited, listening to the woman holler, apparently out the door. “Slim, phone for you. Want me to take a message?”
I couldn’t hear his response, but she came back on the line and said, “He’ll be right here.”
“Thank you.”
I could hear them talking while I continued to wait. He wanted to know who was on the phone, and she didn’t know. According to him, she should have asked.
He picked up the receiver. “Yeah?” The man had to be in his early seventies, but I still couldn’t relate the adult voice to the picture I’d seen of him. Prudy said he’d been what? Twelve? Maybe fourteen?
“Mr. Framer, my name is Sandi Webster. I’d like to make an appointment to talk to you.”
“Who are you and what’s this about? I don’t have lots of extra time. I’m a busy guy. And if you’re selling something, I don’t need anything.”
“I’m a private investigator, and – ”
“What the hell would you want with me? You can’t be investigating anything I’m involved in. I haven’t done anything since I was a kid.” His defensiveness made me suspicious of his adult activities.
“Mr. Framer, I’m working for Prudy Lewis. She – ”
“Yeah, I remember that ol’ bat. I’m surprised she’s still alive. What’s she want?”
Prudy hadn’t been old when she knew Slim. Then I remembered that he’d known her when he was young. Anyone over twenty-five was probably considered old to a kid. I could tell I was going to have to push this guy’s buttons a little bit.
“Mr. Framer… May I call you Milton?” I kept speaking so that he couldn’t interrupt again. “So Milton, I’m working on an old case for Prudy. You know, a cold case.” Somehow I figured that would hold his attention. A guess on my part, but a good one.
“I go by Slim. A cold case?” I’d hooked him. I could hear the interest in his voice.
“Yes. And I need your help. I’m looking into the death of a neighbor of yours from back in the forties. His name was Matthew Bremmer.”
“Say, I remember Ratty Matty. He was murdered – beaten to death. Yeah, I sure do remember that crazy ol’ fart. We used to give him fits.” He stopped for a heartbeat. “Hey! You’re not thinking us kids had anything to do with him bein’ bumped off, are you? Because you’re way off base if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No, no,” I assured him. “But Slim, I want to talk to everyone I can find who lived in the neighborhood at the time.” I wasn’t about to tell him he was a suspect and scare him off. “One of you might remember something after all these years. As an adult, you may recall something that you didn’t think was important as a child.”
“Uh huh. I see what you mean. I watch a lot of cop shows on TV, and I know all about these cold cases. Let me cogitate on this overnight. Why don’t you come over tomorrow morning and I’ll talk to you? You really want my help with this?”
“Well, I’d sure like to ask you a few questions.” No, I didn’t want his help, other than some input on what had happened. When people actually try to help, they usually end up getting under your feet and tripping you. “Right now I’m just looking for information.”
“Right. I’ll be home all morning, so come whenever you want to. I can tell you lots of gossip about this ol’ neighborhood. What was your name again?”
“Sandi Webster. And thanks a lot, Milton. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.”
“Huh,” he said. “Guess Prudy remembers they called me Slim. Guess she told you that?”
“She did, but I wasn’t sure if you still used that nickname or not until you mentioned it.”
“I do, and you’re welcome to call me Slim.” He was repeating himself.
Maybe he could save me some time. “There’s one more thing, Slim. I’d like to talk to your brother Stretch, too. Could you give me his phone number? I’d really appreciate it.”
He chuckled. “He’s an ol’ fart, too. Thinks he’s a big shot since he was a dentist. He’s retired now, but he still thinks he’s hot stuff. Walter can go piss up a rope, as far as I’m concerned.” Slim burped. “Guess I’m an ol’ fart, too, though.”
This guy seemed to enjoy bodily functions and using them as descriptive terms. Regardless, there was something about this guy that I liked. He sounded down-to-earth.
He gave me Stretch’s telephone number and added, “Be sure you don’t call him Stretch. He don’t like that name anymore. Now he’s Walter.” The name Walter came out sounding like it left an ugly taste in his mouth.
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
We hung up and I immediately called Stretch’s number. He didn’t answer, so I left a message asking him to call me back.
Prudy walked out of the kitchen. “Any luck?”
“I talked to Slim, and I left a message for his brother. I’m going to meet with Slim tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t waste time, do you?” She looked pleased with me. I took it as a compliment.
“Why don’t we walk next door and you can meet Dolly? You two should like each other. I’ll just run upstairs and get cleaned up.” I wanted to distract her before she asked me what time we were going to Slim’s house.
“Why?” Prudy asked.
Why was I going to shower? Oh, no, she was referring to liking Dolly.
“Because you’re both no-nonsense women.”
I took a quick shower and brushed my hair, hurrying because I had a feeling it was going to be a busy day.
Back downstairs, I told Prudy I was ready to walk over to Dolly’s house.
I handed her the phone and she made her call, leaving her message but handing the phone back when she realized she didn’t know my number. I recited it onto her son’s machine and handed the phone back to her.
“Love you, Junior.” She ended with that and pressed the Off button.
So Bubba, Prudy and I trooped over to Dolly’s house. She’d already put on a fresh pot of coffee for us and she’d made cinnamon rolls.
I introduced the two women and we retired to the kitchen to slam dunk those rolls. Dolly had a talent for baking pastries and frequently left goodies on my sink while I was gone. I’d given her a key to the house so when I knew I’d be late, she could feed Bubba for me.
Miss Kitty put in an appearance and, turning her nose up at Bubba, stopped by Prudy’s chair to check her out. Apparently satisfied that this woman was a wanted guest, she strutted back past Bubba, giving him a perfunctory hiss. Bubba snorted at her and she lifted her tail straight in the air, continuing her strut as though he no longer existed. Bubba grinned, enjoying his cat and dog game.
Within minutes Prudy was telling Dolly that I’d be working on an old case for her.
“When did the victim get pumped full of lead?” Dolly asked.
“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Somebody used a ham fist and put him down for the count.”
“Ah, I see.” Dolly tsk tsked. “Beaten to death. What a horrible way to go. When was this? How cold are we talking?”
“1943,” Prudy replied. “Ice cold. But I hear Sandi’s had experience in working the old streets.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty good at it. Hmm. 1943. My, but that year brings back some memories. Remember when they started rationing food?”
“Sure do. Didn’t you just hate that oleo?” Prudy shook her head.
“Oleo! Nasty stuff, but we used it anyway.” Dolly shook her head, too.
“You mean the cookies stuffed with icing?” I asked, feeling left out. “I still eat them all the time.”
“Oleo,” Prudy said. “With an l.”
“Oh. What’s that?”
Dolly held up her hand, indicating she’d answer my silly question. “Butter was hard to come by, so they came up with something that was basically vegetable solids, and then you’d squish it together with some yellow stuff, in a bag, to make it look like butter.”
“Sort of like margarine?” I asked.
They both laughed. “No!”
“Well, sort of, but not exactly. I guess they’re basically the same thing.” Dolly made a face like she’d just sucked a lemon. “The stuff they make now is better though. But we did what we had to do. And used what was available. There was a war on, after all. And do you remember drawing a line on the back of your legs so it would look like you were wearing nylons?” Dolly turned to Prudy and drew an imaginary line up the back of her leg.
“Yeah. As if anyone really thought that line was the seam in our hosiery.” Prudy was having a good time. “But usually I had on a full-length fur coat, so no one could see whether I was wearing stockings or not.”
“Nowadays, you wear a fur coat and people throw things at you,” Dolly informed her.
“Well, tell them to get the tomatoes ready. I just took my coat out of storage.”
I’d finished my rolls and took the plate to the sink, rinsing it off. The two women kept chatting about the good old days. Maybe I could use the opportunity to make my getaway.
“Did you buy war bonds?” Prudy asked.
“Certainly,” Dolly replied. “And didn’t you just love our music? It was much more romantic that the screaming you hear nowadays.”
“Glenn Miller was to die for.” Prudy had obviously been listening to kids. To die for?
“And the Andrews Sisters. Didn’t you just love the dancing? I watch the kids nowadays and…” Dolly was off and running.
“Ladies, you enjoy yourselves. I’m going to run to the store while you visit. Anyone need anything?”
Dolly made a shooing motion with her hand and I retreated as quickly as I could. I could hear them talking about the rubber shortage while I left the kitchen. Fake butter? Lines drawn on their legs? Rubber shortages? At least I understood war bonds. Maybe I wouldn’t have liked the forties. But it sure sounded like they did.
I made a quick return trip to the kitchen. “Would you mind if I leave Bubba here while I’m gone?”
“Sure,” Dolly replied, shooing me again.
I wasn’t sure if cats could give dirty looks or not, but I thought maybe Miss Kitty was doing her best.
I walked home to pick up my backpack and found there was a message on the machine. Prudy’s son had returned her call, and he said he was sorry, but he was going to be gone a couple of days longer than he’d anticipated. He’d call his neighbor and asked her to let Prudy into his house. He wanted to know who I was and why his mother was visiting me. I knew I’d regret it later, but I dialed his number and left a message telling him who I was and that she’d be staying with me until his return. If he had any questions, he could call me.
I thought Prudy might enjoy her time with Dolly more than she’d enjoy rattling around that house all by herself. I’d ask her about it when I returned from the store to be sure I hadn’t overstepped my bounds.
I started out the front door and the phone rang. Junior surely hadn’t received his message already.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Webster? This is Dr. Walter Framer. You called and left a message for me. How can I help you?”
“Mr. Framer, Walter, I’m a – ”
“Dr. Framer, please. I prefer to be called Dr. Framer.” Slim was right. Stretch had become snooty. I could understand him wanting to be referred to as a doctor, and it wasn’t so much his request as his tone of voice.
“Dr. Framer. I’m a private investigator, and I’m looking into an old crime on behalf of a friend. I’d like to make an appointment to meet with you to ask a few questions.”
“And what old crime would that be?” he asked.
“Matthew Bremmer’s murder in 1943.”
“Oh, that. He deserved it, although it was rather a messy affair.”
Eleven
I couldn’t believe my ears! What kind of a cold-hearted man had Stretch turned into? But I couldn’t afford to offend him until I got some answers from him. I held my tongue.
“Dr. Framer, regardless of how you felt about Matthew Bremmer, would you please make some time to talk to me?”
“For whom are you working?” he asked.
“That’s confidential at the moment.” I probably would have told him, but his attitude was ticking me off. Prudy wouldn’t have cared. She’d already told me that she wanted to be in on the questioning with me.
“Confidential.” He paused. “I’m sorry Miss, but I don’t have time to talk to you.”
Time to push a few buttons again. “Dr. Framer, it looks like this case may be reopened.” Okay, so I was out and out lying. “Would you rather speak to me? Or to the police?”
“Be here by three o’clock this afternoon. If you’re late, I won’t be here. Understand?” His voice had tightened considerably. I could almost feel him clenching his jaws.
“Oh, I’ll be there,” I assured him. “And I’ll be on time.”
He hung up without comment.
I grabbed my backpack and stomped out the door. Somehow, the snobbish doctor and the bad boy weren’t that far apart. I knew instinctively that this man had lived his life with attitude.
After my brief trip to the store, I returned to Dolly’s house. You’d have thought I’d never left. The two women were still talking about the forties. They stopped when I entered the kitchen.
“Prudy,” I said, “your son called while we were gone. He’s going to be out of town a couple of days longer than he anticipated. I left him a message telling him you’d stay with me until his return. I h
ope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine, doll.”
“Say, I have a great idea.” Dolly was grinning. “Why don’t you stay with me? I’ve got a spare bedroom and you won’t have any stairs to climb.”
Prudy seemed to be thinking this over and didn’t answer right away. “Sandi had me sleep in a downstairs room last night, but it is kinda like an office.”
“I’d really enjoy the company,” Dolly said. “It’s a little lonesome here sometimes. My granddaughter and great-granddaughter are always busy. Just like Sandi.”
Great! Just great! Another guilt trip. Exactly what I needed.
“Sounds like fun.” Prudy turned to me. “You wouldn’t mind, would you Sandi?”
“Of course not.” This just might solve my problem. If Prudy was busy with Dolly, maybe she wouldn’t go with me to see either of the Framer men.
“After Sandi and I take care of business, I’ll move my things over here.”
Pop! You could almost hear my bubble bursting.
“When are you going to call Stretch?” Prudy asked.
“I’ve already talked to him.” I didn’t offer any further information.
“Well? What did he say? When are we going to meet with him?”
I sighed, one of my favorite pastimes. “Three o’clock this afternoon.”
“I’ll be ready. Dolly, you want to come with us?” Prudy was pushing it.
“No, I try to leave the detecting up to Sandi,” Dolly replied. “Unless she needs my help, which isn’t all that often.”
These two women were beginning to scare me. They wanted in on an investigation. There was no doubt in my mind. I knew that Dolly was waiting for me to invite her along, but I’d choke on my words if I tried to ask her to come with us. I swallowed and kept my mouth closed.
“I’ve got to run home and call Pete.” Good time to change the subject. “Maybe he and Stanley have found something out about Opal and her father.”
Making a quick getaway, I hurried home where I called the office and Pete answered on the first ring.
