Gin Mill Grill

by Marja McGraw

  Before he could continue, his mother hurried into the waiting room. “Come with me, Marcus. It’s time.”

  “Time?” he asked.

  “Your grandfather is fading fast. I want you in the room with us.”

  “Mrs. Windsor? Do you need me, too?” I asked.

  “Of course not.” Her tone was imperious and rude. “Who do you think you are? Why are you even here?”

  Before I could reply, Marcus stood and followed his mother out of the room.

  He returned shortly. “You need to leave. I’ll be in touch with you. Where my grandfather is concerned, none of this matters anymore.”

  “Will you tell me the rest of the story?”

  “Yes, but not today. There are police officers in grandfather’s room and they want to talk to me.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Grandfather made a death bed statement. They know I dumped him out of his wheelchair.”

  To say I was shocked would be an understatement.

  “You what?”

  “Leave. I’ll call you. It’s time to sweep the mess out from under the rug.” He turned and left the room.

  Oh, how I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in Rusty’s room.

  Hmm.

  I stealthily made my way to the old man’s room, or at least to the doorway where I stood to the side, out of sight.

  I heard him take his last breath.

  “It’s over,” Mrs. Windsor said.

  “It is.” I heard bitterness in Marcus voice. “I’m going to tell that private investigator the whole ugly story.”

  “You might want to tell us,” a male voice said. I figured it must be a cop.

  “No, you’re not,” his mother replied. “If she’s the big mouth that I suspect she is, she’ll blab and it will ruin our business.”

  “I don’t care. This family has too many secrets. It’s time to come clean, and I don’t think she’s the kind who will blab, as you put it.”

  “And what about these police officers?”

  “They’re here about me and what I did, not Grandfather.”

  Marcus’ mother said something I couldn’t hear. I would have leaned forward to listen, but a doctor and nurse left the room, giving me a questioning look.

  “Mr. Windsor,” said the same male voice, “let’s go out to the hallway and talk. Or we can take you downtown.”

  That was my cue to scram. I hurried down the hall and around the corner, looking for the elevator, passing a “Wet Floor” sign. I tippy-toed across the wet floor.

  No elevator.

  Looking behind me, I saw an elevator sign at the other end of the hallway. I hoped I could scramble past the area where Marcus and the police were talking without being seen.

  I almost made it, but I power walked instead of tippy-toeing. Big mistake!

  I didn’t yell. Unfortunately, there was a loud thud when I slipped and landed on my back. I was stunned for a moment.

  Two cops, Marcus, and a nurse came running.

  “Are you hurt?” Marcus asked.

  The cops helped me up while the nurse grabbed a wheelchair and pulled it over.

  She pointed at the sign. “Can’t you read?” She performed a cursory inspection of my body while I sat in the chair.

  “I was in a hurry.” I was somewhat breathless.

  “I’m sure you were,” Marcus said. The room we’d met in earlier was down a different hallway. He knew I’d been listening. I could see it on his accusing face.

  The nurse interrupted, handing me some forms. “You need to fill these out.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “Hospital rules.” She stood in front of me and crossed her arms.

  I filled out the forms and handed them back while Marcus and the cops moved back down the hallway.

  “I’m going to have a doctor examine you. Wait here and I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I nodded, but as soon as she disappeared around the corner, I jumped out of the chair and ran to the elevators.

  She was in for a surprise. When she looked at the forms, she’d see I’d entered my name as Mary Mary Contrary. I wasn’t hurt, I’m not a litigious person, and I didn’t want the hospital bothering me, although I had to admit I’d probably have a couple of bruises.

  I drove back to Los Angeles considering what Marcus had done. He’d dumped his grandfather out of a wheelchair. Would he tell the police it had been an accident? Had it been an accident? I guessed he could say the wheel caught on something, but it would still be difficult to tip the chair.

  And what about the rest of his story? It was just getting good when his mother had interrupted us. Rusty and Loretta had an affair, but she ended up with Horace. Had she broken things off with Rusty? Was he the one who’d been hitting her? I could picture the old man – not old at the time – doing something like that, even though I didn’t really know him.

  First impressions. My first impression of him hadn’t been a good one. I could imagine him as a vengeful, hurtful man. I had a feeling that no one dared get in his way. Marcus had commented that he was mean and spiteful, as I recalled.

  I shook my head. Was it sinful to have horrid thoughts about someone who’d just died? Maybe not.

  Turning on the radio, I hoped music would distract me.

  It didn’t.

  I wanted to know the rest of the story and I was impatient. Marcus had been so close to spilling the beans.

  My mind flipped a switch and I thought about Water Boy. He’d been involved somehow. I was sure of it. He said he hadn’t killed the three victims, but that might not be true.

  Too many theories and not enough facts, a now familiar thought. I hoped Marcus wouldn’t renege on his promise to tell me the whole story.

  Enough! I pulled over and called Pete.

  “Pete, Rusty just died. And get this. Marcus dumped the old man out of his wheelchair. The cops are talking to him right now.”

  “Do you think he meant to kill the old man?”

  “I’m not sure. How could he have known Rusty would break his hip and die from an infection? Or pneumonia. I’m not sure what killed him. Marcus may have just had enough and tipped the chair out of frustration.”

  “Did he tell you the story about what really happened?”

  “He started to, but his mother interrupted when Rusty took a turn for the worse. He got far enough that I think he may know the whole story. We’ll talk later unless he ends up in jail.”

  “We’ve had an interesting day here, too,” he said. “Stanley dug up more dirt on Bruce Brown.”

  “Really? What was that?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get back to the office.” He hung up.

  “Is anyone ever going to finish telling me a story?”

  I sighed in deep frustration.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Arriving back at the office in the late afternoon, I found Pete and Stanley huddled together and going over some notes.

  Felicity sat at my desk with her head down. She looked like she was sleeping.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “We’re looking at the information we found on Water Boy,” Stanley replied.

  “He had a lot of money.” Pete grinned. “It’s all gone.”

  “Explain,” I said.

  “Be glad to,” Pete said. “Stanley did some creative research and we found financial records. Brown had large quarterly deposits, and he’d been receiving them for years. My guess would be they were blackmail payments. When he got out of prison, he spent it all.”

  “On what?” I asked.

  “You name it. He and his sidekick spent a lot of time in Las Vegas, having a great time. He bought three houses. He even bought Charlie a small house. Maybe he has a generous side, or maybe it was his way of paying Charlie off for work performed.”

  “By the way,” Stanley inserted, “Pete spoke to Rick and they’ve checked all of his houses. He’s not in any of them.”

  I nodded.
“I’ll bet there’s another house where he’s hiding out. He doesn’t want to be found. Rick said he’s like the wind. I think he’s more like a shadow. He’s there, but you don’t see him. Any ideas about who he was blackmailing?”

  Pete looked up from the notes they’d put together. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably Rusty. Think about it, Sandi. Rusty had his fingers in a lot of pies. Brown probably knew where all the pies were. And don’t forget, Windsor wasn’t always on the up and up. He only went legit because of the wineries.”

  “Now I really want to hear Marcus’ story. He knows – ”

  The phone rang.

  Felicity lifted her hand and picked up the receiver without lifting her head. “Webster and Goldberg Investigations. May I help you?” She sounded groggy. “Hold on a minute.”

  She held the phone out in my general direction.

  I took it from her and she jumped out of her chair and ran to the restroom, looking quite pale. I was beginning to worry about her.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “It’s Charlie.”

  Uh oh.

  “What do you want, Charlie?” I repeated his name so the boys would know who I was speaking to.

  Pete picked up the extension and listened in.

  “Water Boy says you better back off right now or he’s gonna come after you.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what’s he gonna do? That old man couldn’t hurt a fly,” I said.

  It was time for a showdown, and I was ready for it. I didn’t like people who made me feel like I was out of control. That’s how Brown made me feel.

  “Maybe he can’t, but I can.”

  It suddenly struck me. “Hey! You’re the one who broke into Eloise’s house and my house, aren’t you?”

  There was a pregnant pause while… Pregnant pause. That phrase stuck in my head for a moment before drifting away.

  Charlie finally spoke up. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’m psychic,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. “My question is, what were you looking for?”

  “Lady, I ain’t got time for this.” I thought I could detect a note of fear in his voice. He didn’t want to be arrested for breaking and entering. Well, what about aiding and abetting a criminal like Water Boy? Hmm?

  “Why don’t you and Bruce come into my office? We’ll talk. After all, this is all about crimes that happened in the nineteen-thirties.”

  “Hold on,” he said. He covered the phone with his hand, but I could hear muffled voices.

  “I’m back,” he said. “Water Boy tells me he heard the old man died. He wants to know if it’s true.”

  “How would I know?”

  “He says you was there and saw him this morning.”

  “I was at the hospital, but I didn’t see Rusty.” That was true. I’d only seen Marcus and his mother.

  He covered the phone again and there was more mumbling.

  “Water Boy says to meet him at the speakeasy and he’ll tell you stuff. He says to come alone.”

  I laughed. “He’s nuts if he thinks I’ll meet him without backup.”

  Pete gave me a thumbs up sign.

  There was an angry voice in the background. Apparently Charlie had the phone on speakerphone and Water Boy could hear what I was saying.

  “I’ll show her what nuts looks like,” he said. “Gimme that thing!”

  The next voice I heard was Water Boy’s.

  “Who do you think you’re calling nuts? I’ll show you nuts.”

  I hung up on him.

  “What’d you do that for?” Pete asked.

  “To make him angrier,” I replied.

  “Why?”

  “If he gets mad enough, he’ll slip up.”

  Pete tipped his head from side to side, as though saying it made sense to him.

  The phone rang again, just as Felicity rejoined us.

  She started to answer it, but I waved her off. “Let it ring a few more times.”

  My heart beat a little faster. I was playing with fire by making this scary guy angry, but I didn’t care. I suddenly felt like I was the one in control.

  I waited for two more rings before I picked up the receiver, and I just listened. I didn’t say a word.

  “I know you’re listening, lady. I have a lot of patience, and I always control the things around me. Always. You want answers, and I’ve got them. However, you’re trying my patience and that’s not a good thing – for you. Are you going to meet with me? Answer me now, or pay the consequences.”

  Okay, those creepy eyes of his made an appearance in my mind. A shiver ran down my back. “Sure, I’ll meet with you, as long as you’re in a talkative mood. When?”

  “In half an hour at the gin mill.”

  “Can’t do it. I’ll have to pick up the key. Make it an hour.”

  I could hear the tension in his voice when he replied. “An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “By the way, what was Charlie looking for when he broke into my home?”

  “One hour.” I half expected to hear him growl at me, but instead he hung up.

  “You’re one gutsy broad,” Pete said, grinning at me. “I’ll call Rick and have him meet us there. I know he wants to get his hands on Brown.”

  I nodded. “Don’t call me a broad.”

  Bringing Rick in on this was a good idea because I wasn’t sure about what I’d just done. It’s easy to talk big on the phone. Face to face would be another matter.

  Pete was on the phone, talking to Rick and setting up our meeting.

  “Would you like us to come along?” Stanley asked.

  “No. Take Felicity home. I think she’s still sick.” The Hawks were no match for Water Boy. I didn’t want them in the line of fire, so to speak.

  Stanley surprised me. “I’d sure like to see more action. What if I drive over after I take Felicity home?”

  “Pulease,” I said. “We’ve got our hands full and my suspicion is that if anyone besides Pete comes with me, Water Boy will either disappear or he’ll take some unwelcome action.”

  “I understand.” Stanley took Felicity by the elbow and escorted her out of the office.

  I glanced in Pete’s direction. I hadn’t noticed before, but the grey at his temples was becoming more pronounced. Had I and my antics done that to him? I hoped not.

  Hoping Eloise was home, I called her. We’d need to pick up the key from her.

  “Of course, Sandi. I can meet you there if you’d like me to,” she said.

  “Eloise, this time you need to stay home. Water Boy is angry already, and if he sees another face with me, who knows what will happen?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’ll be watching for you. Will you at least take Bubba with you?”

  “I won’t have time to pick him up,” I said. “It’ll just be me and Pete.” I didn’t want to tell her that the police would be nearby, too.

  Pete opened his desk drawer, and I knew what that meant. He was bringing some protection along, just in case.

  I glanced out the office window. It was dark outside. Somehow meeting Water Boy after dark seemed more frightening than meeting him in the daylight.

  “Can you believe that Stanley wanted to see more action?” I asked.

  “I think he was just being polite. He means well, but he’s not the bravest guy I know.”

  “He tries. I’m worried about Felicity. I think she caught what you have, but it seems to be bothering her stomach more than it did yours.”

  He shrugged. “I tried to stay away from her.”

  “I know you did.”

  We drove to Eloise’s house and picked up the key.

  “You can take Butch with you if you think it might help,” she offered.

  “Thank you, but no. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to him.”

  She pursed her lips before speaking. “Do you think you’ll be in danger? Honestly?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not taking any unnecessary chances.”<
br />
  Pete coughed, and I had a feeling it wasn’t from his cold, or whatever it was. I believed he thought I was showing way too much bravado.

  After all, we were dealing with Water Boy, a man with a reputation and a cold heart.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  We drove to the Gin Mill Grill and parked in front.

  “Didn’t you say Rick would be here?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t see him.”

  Copying one of my habits, Pete rolled his eyes. He’d opened the car door and the inside light was on or I wouldn’t have seen his antics.

  “Would you like him to stand under the street light so Brown can’t miss him?”

  “Oh,” I said. “There is that little detail. But he is here, somewhere, right?”

  “Count on it.”

  We climbed out of the car and approached the front door, key in hand.

  I unlocked the door, entered and turned on the lights, and…

  “What the hell?” Pete said.

  Water Boy and Charlie were already sitting at the counter.

  “How did you get in?” I asked.

  “The old building hasn’t changed all that much. Thanks to Prohibition, there’s a secret door. It’s quite well hidden,” Water Boy said. “It hasn’t been used in a long time, so it took a little elbow grease to get it open.” He patted Charlie’s back.

  Charlie grinned.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Never mind. You won’t need to use it, kiddo.” The old man gave me the look that sent chills down my back.

  I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t help rubbing my arms. Goose bumps.

  “Are you ready to talk now? You said you’d give up some of the inside story.” I hoped I sounded calm and cool.

  “We’ll talk,” he replied. “How much I tell you depends on you.”

  “What do you want from me?” I couldn’t imagine.

  Pete moved from behind me to my right side and stood facing Water Boy with his arms folded across his chest. He looked quite authoritative and in control, but I could see it didn’t unnerve the old man.

  The front door opened and a cop walked just inside. “This place is closed,” he said. “Are you people supposed to be here?”