by Helen Jacey
‘Rufus looks guilty, from where I’m standing. He’s got the strength. He’s in love with Linda. He’ll make a packet anyway, even more when he marries Linda. Framing Dolly would be a cake walk.’
They both absorbed every word with impassive faces. Joseph jotted notes throughout. At no point had Sonia scowled or interrupted.
Lastly, I had told them about my ride with the devoted former secretary Vivienne and the tenuous but odd link, through Floriana Luciano, with Dolly and the band.
Now we were huddled around a table, and the cups of coffee were half drunk. It was time to deliver my neat conclusion. ‘Linda Hunter’s either in on it with Rufus, and double bluffing to her friends to keep up some act, or she doesn’t suspect Rufus herself, so she’s even dumber than she looks.’
Sonia drummed her fingers on the table. Today, her nails were a divine scarlet.
I couldn’t resist a question. ‘So where next for me? Rufus, or ‘Them’?’
Sonia answered with a question of her own. ‘Did you get a look at this friend of Linda’s? Know who she is?’
I shook my head, lying. ‘No idea at all. She sounded hoity-toity.’
‘Hoity-toity?’ Sonia asked. ‘What do you mean exactly?’
‘Well, you know, smooth, educated voice. Definitely an uptown girl.’
Shut up about The Fiancée!
I had skated onto thin ice, my eyes open. I wanted to kick myself.
Treading carefully, I sipped my coffee. ‘If there was some kind of blackmail by “Them” that could be why the vice cop was there on Christmas Eve. So, I should look into Rufus next, surely?’ I risked sounding like a stuck gramophone.
‘No. Your services are no longer required,’ Sonia said, crisply. She folded her arms.
What! I nearly dropped the cup. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I no longer require any more work.’
Was I being fired? Joseph was scrutinizing his notes with great intensity.
‘But I’ve got some great leads. The girls. The brother. Blackmail! I mean, nothing conclusive. What if Minski did it?’ I blurted out.
‘There’s been a development and you have done enough.’
Enough? To make a difference for Dolly?
‘What development?’
She smirked. ‘I can’t divulge. Consider yourself released from our agreement.’
Sonia was noting something down. ‘By my estimation, we owe you eight hundred dollars plus expenses. Oh, nine hundred, isn’t it? I doubled the fee for that first evening? Itemize your expenses, but any…payoffs…should be put down under ‘miscellaneous’. Okay?’
My bill. I was being dispensed with. Just the investigative help who should know her place.
‘Sure,’ I said, feeling anything but okay.
‘Good.’ Sonia stood up and I had no choice but to follow suit. But the rebel in me blurted out, ‘But Dolly? What’s going to happen to her?’
‘Joseph and I have work to do, so if you don’t mind?’
Suddenly the buzzer sounded. Joseph got up and went to the intercom system. A gravelly voice said, ‘There’s a Mr. Malloy in reception. Says he’s a private investigator.’
‘Send him up.’
Malloy? Another PI? A man?
So I had just been fired. They were bringing in a guy to replace me. Sonia the queen bee wanted to maintain her rightful status, surrounded by drones.
Joseph, relieved the ordeal was over, offered his hand. ‘Happy New Year. For tomorrow.’
‘You, too,’ I muttered, unable to meet his eye. His handshake was warm and strong. A shake of pity, not comfort. I had liked Joseph, but he was on her side.
Sure, I’d made a stack of money that would keep me and Barney afloat for a few months. I’d bought a little time. But Sonia Parker simply didn’t rate me.
Wait a minute. I stood still. ‘What about Dede? Has she agreed to you letting me go?’
Sonia turned. ‘Dede’s aware of the situation.’
No answer to that!
Sonia escorted me out of the office, back along the powder blue carpet that I would never see again.
‘What about Minski’s files? And the handkerchief?’ I said in a low voice. Sonia said she would send Joseph to collect the files and I should destroy the handkerchief. ‘Burn it. We won’t be needing it.’
‘But…’ I stammered.
‘No buts.’ She smiled, gently pushing me towards the elevator. ‘Everything’s covered.’
The illuminated buttons showed the elevator was on its way up, no doubt carrying my successor.
‘I’ll take the stairs,’ I said, darting off towards the door. I had no intention of meeting Mr. Malloy, my replacement.
No, sirree.
I sat in the parking lot beneath Sonia’s office, feeling a total failure. Obviously, she’d hated my approach from the beginning.
Or she’d just hated me.
She had the power. She was my client. Dolly was her client. And Dede had agreed that I should leave the case. Why? Had Sonia told Dede I was useless? Had I annoyed Alberta that much? Had June told Alberta about my tactless handling of Agnes?
I lit a cigarette and instantly burst into a fit of coughing. I stubbed it out fast, the nicotine producing a vile surge of nausea. My lungs felt on fire.
Did everybody think I was just not up to the job? Even worse, that I was a liability?
I started the engine and reversed.
Calm down!
Surely June and Alberta couldn’t be behind it? They were my friends, if I had any in the world. Surely it was all Sonia’s prejudice against women PIs. Maybe she thought a male PI would be better at getting access to Rufus’s business affairs. She hadn’t ever shared any of her strategy with me.
I couldn’t go running to Beatty like a child. Frankly, however I explained it, it would sound exactly how it was: I’d been fired. Beatty would be surprised by the twist in events and I couldn’t bear her to suspect even for one second I’d somehow screwed up a well-paid job.
Her doubt that I could work at a high level was not something I wanted to experience right now. She’d try to hide it, but she would think she’d got it wrong about me.
Suck it up!
There was only one person I wanted to see. One person who I needed to tell that I’d tried to do my best.
Dolly.
Sonia Parker wouldn’t like it, but screw her! I could do as I pleased now. I still had some of her flashy business cards in my purse. Alice Lucas could visit Dolly.
I would say my own goodbyes to the case.
36
The huge white marble building of the Hall of Justice achieved its intention: intimidation. A monolith that stood for power, for order, for the establishment.
I kept Dolly’s face in my mind’s eye as I walked beneath the marble archway to the entrance, through the vast lobby and towards the elevators.
My heart was beating fast. Attorneys, judges and cops proliferated like flies on a corpse. This white palace was their rightful domain. I was the imposter, the creature to be swatted. My blood and guts would stain that pristine marble.
Head high, shoulders back! No lowered head!
I had to calm myself down. It was okay. Alice Lucas, law-abiding citizen, was here to see her client.
And Elvira Slate, legitimate human being, was here to see a girl just like her.
The elevator doors opened and people flocked out. I double-took. Zetty, in a dark hat. It was almost a relief to see someone from my world. But she looked lost in thought, and didn’t see me. Should I call out? Then the bellhop leaned out and said ‘Up, up.’ I dashed in the elevator.
He just nodded when I asked him for the floor for the women’s jail. A few men in suits strolled in beside me, talking about a football game, and up we rode, floor after floor.
One of the men looked me over and tried to make conversation about something or other. I smiled and nodded, not hearing his words. He gave me a funny look.
I was relieved when they got ou
t on the sixth floor, heading for the District Attorney’s office. The bellhop called out, ‘Up, up,’ but nobody else got in. Up we rode. The bell pinged and the hop nodded to me. ‘Women’s Jail.’
I thanked him. I pushed through some double doors. Inside, a hexagonal shaped office, with several guards. At the front desk, a guard was issuing visiting passes.
‘Who are you here to see?’
‘Dolly Perkins.’ I showed him Parker’s company card.
‘Popular lady. You want an interview room? It’ll be a wait.’
‘Not really. Just a quick word.’
He looked me up and down, asked me if I was carrying a firearm, to which I replied no. He didn’t take my word for it, of course, and checked my purse. Then he gave me a pass and told me to go through another door. Dolly would be brought in shortly.
Seeing her amongst other prisoners would be better anyway. I wanted her to see me as a friend from now on. This could be the first of many visits to her.
A high barred gate blocked the corridor to the cells. Women’s voices, yelling and crying, echoed through barred chambers.
I’d walked corridors like this for the best part of five years.
This was the third time I had ventured into a place of incarceration for Dolly’s sake. Her pull on me was powerful. An unbreakable bond of sisterhood, that made me unable to say no to risks I didn’t need to take.
Helping her felt like a mission, not a job.
After a while, another guard appeared. This was a woman, stocky, devoid of makeup and wearing a permanent frown that said, You’re trash.
‘This way,’ she growled.
She led me to the visitors’ block, a large box of cement and bars in which about seven female inmates stood around the sides talking to visitors through barred hatches.
Dolly was lurking aimlessly at the back. Her pale face found mine in seconds.
The guard yelled, ‘Inmate Perkins. Come forward.’ She shot me another hostile look. ‘Hands down at all times.’
Dolly approached one of the barred hatches. She had lost weight and her eyes seemed even more bulbous. I noticed now, for the first time, that one eye looked in a slightly different direction.
‘Hi, Dolly.’ I kept my voice low. ‘Good to see you.’
She looked confused. ‘Miss Parker send you here?’
I shrugged. ‘Look, she doesn’t know I’m here. Better it stays that way.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m off the case. I just wanted….’ I met her eyes.
What did I want? Now I was here, under false pretenses, I felt selfish. Had I really come to check on her? Or was I looking for validation from someone who had absolutely nothing to give? ‘She’s working so hard for you, and I just wanted to say, I’m gunning for you, too.’
Dolly’s eyes lowered. ‘Should be outta here by now. Thought they’d have got his wife by now. She did it. She never loved him. I’m here, all alone. Only trash for company. Everybody’s forgotten me.’
‘Zetty hasn’t. Wasn’t she just here?’
Dolly blinked. ‘Everyone except Zetty. She’s my pal.’
‘Somebody framed me real good. I know it was Linda Hunter, but nobody’s gonna touch her, are they? I’m finished.’
‘You can’t think like that.’ Linda, the wholesome wife, was her fixation.
It probably helped her cope. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Sonia didn’t consider Linda Hunter a suspect and neither did the cops.
‘Just remember you’re in good hands.’ My words sounded as hollow as they felt. She must sense she was an easy target and nobody was interested in real justice.
Dolly moved slightly closer, her voice lower ‘Hey, you found a hankie? At Ronald’s?’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘Miss Parker and all her questions. Asked if I remembered touching a hankie? Then I remembered, sure I did!’
I nodded. ‘Taken care of, don’t worry about it.’
‘No, it’s not like that! If I get outta here, can I have it? Only thing I’ll have of my Ronnie.’ She lowered her voice, eyes filling with tears. ‘When I was a little kid, in the orphanage, I had a little rag. Curled it round my finger and thumb and sucked on it. I still do it; don’t tell nobody.’ She wrinkled her nose, in a cute way.
Lots of kids in my orphanage would suck their thumbs for comfort. Cold comfort, as it turned out, as they all got caned if they couldn’t break the habit.
I gave her a soft, conspiratorial smile. ‘I’ll keep it safe for you.’ What harm could it do, not burning it, as Sonia said? I was no longer under her orders.
‘Give it to Zetty. Now you’re off the case. She’s going away today to her bosses place, but she’ll be back. I should be going with her! I ain’t never gonna sing again.’
I smiled. ‘When you get out, and you will, I’ll come see you sing. And I’ll buy you a drink after.’
‘You’re real nice. You got any kids?’ Dolly smiled at me.
‘Screaming brats are not my thing.’
Dolly fiddled with her fingers. ‘A place like this makes you think real hard about life. What you deserve. Say, you think God’s punishing me? Taking my child like that?’
This was a turnaround. ‘What? No! That’s jail, messing with your mind. You gotta stay strong.’
I felt a surge of anger. Incarceration was a tumor. You went in alive, if a little in shock. But you were still fighting, blood still pulsed through you, you still had some vitality. But little by little any self-worth would be eaten away. The cannibalistic tumor took it all, taking over your body, your brain, and your thoughts.
Soon, you became an empty shell. A dead woman walking.
I could see it happening to Dolly.
‘You’ve done time?’ She was asking.
And how. Almost five years.
I said nothing. This could get back to Sonia, so I just shook my head. ‘Hang on in there, Dolly. You’re gonna make it.’
‘Every time something nice happens in my life, it goes bad, anyway. So what’s the point in hoping anymore? What’s the point of getting out?
‘Better than dying in here.’ But was it? I’d escaped death and my life was one big struggle.
Dolly’s voice was echoing my grim thoughts. ‘Is it? I ain’t so sure anymore. I’m just so tired.’
37
‘You’ve had enough, lady. Time to go home.’
‘Leave me alone!’
It’s the bartender and his twin, both in the same black apron and fury in their eyes. Quadruple anger. Hey, you looking at me? I don’t care. I hate twins, anyway.
Twins, double trouble. Double dose of shit.
‘I just want to go to sleep.’ The booth’s so soft. I could just lie here. If only they would just leave me alone! I clutch my purse closer to me.
‘Someone you can call? Pick you up?’
‘Just a few hours. Please, sir.’
I curl up on the soft base of the booth.
‘Oh, no, you don’t. Get out of here, or I’ll call the cops.’
They’ll go away. The jukebox is playing something smoochy. I like it.
Ouch. Rough arms under me, dragging me up!
‘Just let me sleep, goddamn you!’
‘That’s it. On your feet!’
People’s faces. Staring. Screw ‘em. The bar rushing past, a man’s face laughing at me. Green lamps, dancing in circles like a kaleidoscope.
The oaf’s now shoving me up the stairs. My feet trip. I want him to stop. ‘Gimme a break….’ My legs are limp, a rag doll in a dog’s mouth. I feel a shoe come off. ‘My shoe!’
‘Now scoot!’ he shouts, shoving me hard.
I hurtle forward, crash-landing on my knees and hands. Wet concrete slabs scrape my skin. The sidewalk? A shoe lands next to me. My hands, my face, my bare legs, all lashed with rain like bullets. Where’s my hat? A gust of wind plasters my hair into my mouth, my eyes. I can’t see a thing. I somehow get up, and everything’s spinning.
&nbs
p; Where am I again? Lost. I’m dizzy.
Dolly’s face. The prison. I can’t help you!
Is this Downtown?
Mikey’s. I know that bar. He’ll give me a drink.
Rain pelts my eyes, my cheeks. Reverse tears. Pretty funny.
Where’s Mabel? The Hall of Justice? I can’t remember. I lean against the wall, under a striped canopy.
The rain’s heavier. Large raindrops plip-plop in unison off the curved hem of the waxy canopy.
I can just walk home, can’t I? No law against that. But I’m so tired, so hungry. Where’s my purse?
Here, under my arm. Sheesh! It was there the whole time. I laugh. ‘You stupid cow, you’re sauced.’
Lauder. I should find a payphone, right now. I want to be with him now, in bed, in the Astral. He knows we should be together. What’s wrong with him? I should tell him right now! He didn’t go skiing with Her, so he can be with me now. He can make up some bullshit to tell her like he usually does.
I don’t even have a number for his house. Asshole!
I know. I can call the LAPD, tell them all about two-timing Detective Randy Lauder! Let’s hear what they have to say about that, huh?
