“Sí, if I can call you Cable—okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Cable’s fine. Would you…uh, would you consider having lunch or dinner with me sometime soon?”
She looked up at me, a smile crossing her face and her eyes shining. “Like you say, señor Cable, la vida es extraña. You walk in…and I also look at you—and I breathe better…like I know you before I even meet you.”
I was touched by this young woman’s frankness. “Do—do you have a boyfriend or husband—marido?”
“Sí, once upon a time, un esposo. But like a lot of Latinos, he beat me and contrall—ah, contrell—”
“—controlled you, Adora.”
“Sí, gracias—control. Ahora I am alone. I left him in San Diego two years ago. And mi hermana, me and mi madre open Todo el Mundo.” She finished writing up the ticket info and I paid her.
“I think it was your hermana who led me into a dark alley to make a phone call about twenty minutes ago.”
She was looking at me. “She is restless, my sister. Did she do anything dishonest to you? Oh, I know, sometimes she does sneaking things. But she is good. How you say, silly…”
“No, she was on the level. Probably got paid a couple of bucks to follow me today and then report to certain parties who wanted to know my whereabouts.”
She looked at me more deeply, into my heart, into my spirit. “How long…does it take…to fall in love with someone, Señor Cable?”
I winced a bit, thinking about Honey. “Please, just call me Cable.” I took a deep breath. “Probably about thirty seconds if you’re the right one,” I said, looking into her eyes, mesmerized by the sincerity that poured out of them. “But if you’re looking at me as a candidate, I ain’t the best choice, Adora. I smoke, drink, look at pretty skirts a lot, have a doll for a girlfriend—and currently live on the edge of extinction. Your sister can vouch for that if she’s seen the kind of company I keep lately.”
“I did not think you were available to love, Cable. But that does not stop me from what I feel, eh? We cannot always stop—what we—feel…for somebody else, no?”
“No, you’re right about that, Adora. I—I, uh—I want you to know I kinda feel the same as you do. You took me by surprise. But it’s the wrong timing, kid, and nobody knows it better than I do just about now. I was drawn to you the minute I saw you behind that desk. But then again, what hombre in his right mind wouldn’t be?”
She reflected quietly. “Gracias. So…what is my sister up to?”
“I don’t know. It was very strange. When I went to a food stand for a few tacos, she waited on me and then asked me if I was me. The next thing I knew I was following her down an alley to a phone booth—”
Just then in walked Isaiah Damianos. “Oh, Mr. Denning. I waited in the alley for you. Flora told me you might be here. Hello, you must be the sister Flora was talking about.”
I knew Adora had picked up the tension Damianos brought in with him. “Hola, señor. What can I do for you?”
“I—I’m here for Señor Denning, señorita.” He looked at me. “I believe it would benefit us mutually if we could talk in my car. Por favor?”
“Yeah, as long as you’ve got no odorous surprises this time, Damianos.” I walked over to Adora. “Very glad to meet you, Miss Moreno.” She slipped a business card into the palm of my hand.
“If there is something else—I can help you with— call me, por favor…” I shook her hand and left with Damianos. We crossed the street, went up the alley to his car.
Damianos opened the door for me. I got in. “So…Flora Moreno tells me you went to see one Madame Palladino, a respected soothsayer of sorts. You went with an odd little man who appears a little unbalanced mentally. We do not know him. Then she followed you to this little Mexican food stand.”
“Why the tail, Damianos? I thought you trusted me on this crazy journey you’ve more or less mandated I am to take. Remember, the only reason I’m doing this is to get you off my back and get out of going back to work as a cop for a few days. By the way, you’ve gotta come up with an expense account for me—I ain’t shelling out any more dough for you and your cause until you start paying your way.”
He took out a wad of greenbacks from his pocket, counted me out ten crisp one-hundred dollar bills. “This will get you started, Mr. Denning. Now…tell me what you know…so we can amicably account for my expenditures. Does that sound fair to you?”
“Yeah, okay. It comes down like this. Crazy Jack tells me about a trip by train, and Palladino’s name, so I go to see her. She tells me about a city by the bay, twin peaks, redwood trees, an Asian virgin and a fairy tale castle somewhere nearby. Totally baffled, I ask your little spy if she knows of a travel agency. She and her sister run the one across the street where you found me. Adora Moreno solves my immediate dilemma. San Francisco comes up in neon lights, so I buy a ticket in three days. Can you clear it with my boss within that time so I can get on with it?”
“Good work, Denning!” Damianos exclaimed, quite excited at how fast I worked. “You’ve got the makings of a true detective. Yes, I can clear it with your superiors. By all means, take the trip and keep me posted.” He reached into his breast pocket and handed me a piece of paper with a phone number. “Here, call me as soon as you’ve got something. Please keep any and all details confidential—and do not share them with anyone.”
He thanked me, opened the car door for me and I left, thinking what a crazy day this had been. Tomorrow would almost be a relief to go to work one more day and tell Mario and Honey about some of my new adventure. I would drop in to the Bella Notte tonight and see Honey.
Chapter 7
DANGERS ON A TRAIN
The place was packed and noisy and the blonde singer up there on the stage almost seemed like a stranger to me. I could not get used to the makeover Honey had allowed in order to change her theatrical image. She was singing a fine version of After You’ve Gone and it reminded me of a character in a yet-to-be released novel by an ex-Pinkerton employee named Dashiell Hammett. Rick St. John, a police storywriter, told me about a tuberculosis victim who smoked and drank too much and was creating a tough gumshoe character named Sam Spade. A tentative title for the book was The Maltese Falcon and just the concept of it fired my young man’s imagination. A pulp fiction magazine, Black Mask, was considering a finished book for serial publication. Anyway, The Maltese Falcon reminded me of the teetering romance Honey was singing about. It held a kind of irony in the lyrics: ‘After you’ve gone, after we break up, after you’ve gone, you’re gonna wake up…’ I would’ve liked to do that just about now, be gone…just disappear. Things were piling up on top of me like the pyramid of Cheops. But there was something in my blood that got excited when danger and adventure met at the pass like two forces clashing at the crossroads, pushing me into the land of the unknown and mysterious.
Honey finished her song and came over to the bar where I stood. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said in that wonderful voice of hers filled with wit.
“Well, you know, I came in to hear some golden-throated little songbird and all I get is a blonde blackbird.”
“Harping on that again, are you? You look like something the cat dragged in, Mister—too many nights out away from home?”
“Too many nights away from someone who’s hardly ever available anymore, is more like it,” I quipped back.
“What’s a matter, copper, you afraid to enter a dark room late at night? The lady might even welcome a secret lover who comes and cums but hardly stays anymore.”
“It’s the price of stardom the lady pays. The secret lover is simple and uncomplicated, loving and horny for her.”
“There’s nothing simple about him, buddy. He’s about as simple as a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. What part do you put where?”
“He’d probably be pretty happy just putting the part that works best right up into her—her finest places, if you know what I mean.”
She smiled and gave me that tit-for-tat expression o
f hers. “Touché! As a matter of fact, I’d settle for that tonight, if the gentleman’s available.”
I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek because I had been trained never to muss the lipstick. “He’s kinda beat, but he’s available. What time does the lady get off?”
“Midnight, Mister. Can you wait around?”
“I’ve got that 5:00 a.m. Reveille, you know. It’s hard pulling an eight-hour shift chasing bad guys after a night of skin wrestling with a pretty babe. Is there any possibility of a rain check?”
“Hey, Bub, you never used to complain. Am I not putting out to the man’s satisfaction or something? Maybe I should get a guy whose hours are more like mine—what do you think?”
“I’ve put in for a job on a different planet, babe. I’ve got some stuff to tell you. What if I go to your place, grab a little shut-eye and then lay it on you when you get home?”
“I’d rather you just plain lay me, Mister, but if it’s as important as you say it is, then okay…but before you go, I’ve got a new song for you.”
“That’s great, Golden Throat,” I said, smiling across to her. “I’m sorry our lives have gone in such diverse directions lately.”
“Where in the hell did a two-bit cop like you get such a vocabulary, anyhow?”
“Salvation Army, used words are on sale Mondays and Thursdays,” I chuckled. “Could you use some spare used words? I got lots of ‘em.”
She kissed me gently on the lips and went back up to the bandstand. The band started up and she lit into a Ruth Etting song that knocked my socks off because I knew it was meant for me. ‘Love me or leave me, or let me be lonely, you won’t believe me, but I love you only…I’d rather be lonely than happy with somebody new…’ Honey was singing her message to me in no uncertain terms. I felt she loved me for keeps, but life had torn some of the fabric and we were limping a bit these days. ‘There’ll be no one unless that someone is you….I intend to be independently blue….I want your love, but I don’t want to borrow, to have it today, and to give back tomorrow…for my love is your love…there’s no love for nobody else…’ When she finished I whistled and applauded until I knew she could hear me and smiled my way.
On my way home on the streetcar I was reflecting on Honey’s amazing song and delivery when suddenly Adora Moreno came seeping into my mind. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew we had some kind of magic going on between us. I could still feel the electricity between our fingers when we shook hands earlier today. That’s the kinda stuff people talk about in romance novels and erotic fantasies everyone would like to take into their heart of hearts. Rarely is it ever experienced, I thought.
I decided to pop off at the flat I shared with Mario before going to Honey’s. Since he’d married Rosalie Elena he wasn’t around much. But some nights he’d sleep in closer so the ride in wasn’t as demanding. Every guy needed down time alone. Mario was sitting up in bed in his T-shirt listening to the radio. He was a burly guy and the hair on his chest bubbled out of his shirt like a dark ink splotch. I told him I was taking another leave of absence. At first he got pissed because he hated working with my alternate. Then he calmed down as I explained the truth of my predicament.
“Take me along, Cable—I’ll smash that Damianos character to bits and get you out of those jaws of coercion. Good cops are heroes, Cable—and I’m one of ‘em for you, buddy.”
“Thanks, pal,” I said, going into a dresser drawer and taking out a fresh pack of Lucky Strikes. “But I think I need to go this one alone—they could bump me off if they suspected I was bringing in someone else. Plus you’re a married man now—with a baby in the oven.”
“Have it your way, buster. You know, you’re acting more and more like one of those independent new breeds of private dicks. When will you be back on patrol with me?”
“Three, four days—tops. Once I procure what they’re sending me after, then that’s it.”
“And this is still about that golden throat thing at the morgue?”
“Yep. Seems to some it’s like the most valuable collectors’ item ever.”
“Ehhh…who can figure? Well, call me if you need me.”
I tapped Mario on the shoulder and left. By the time I reached Honey’s it was already eleven thirty. Surprisingly, Honey’s roommate, Zelda, was still up, sitting at the kitchen table. As I walked down the hall toward Honey’s bedroom, she called out to me. “Oh, Officer Denning—would you come here a moment, please?”
I walked back toward the attractive girl with the thick glasses. “Well, hello, Zelda—what’s up?”
“I have a sliver from my cycas revoluta—and I can’t see the darned thing up close—even with these glasses. How’re your eyes?”
“Cycas who? Sounds like the Mexican Revolution has come and gone in your backyard, huh?”
She laughed. “I really like your sense of humor. Here.” She showed me her finger and I asked her to move to better light. She led me down the hall into her bedroom. It was small and filled with all kinds of flowering cactus plants. She handed me a pair of tweezers, sat on the bed under a bright lamp and I sat on the bed next to her. “How does someone like Honey attract a wonderful man like you?”
I raised my eyebrows as I picked away at the sliver slightly under the skin on her left thumb. “Because she’s young and beautiful and intelligent,” I answered, concentrating on the task at hand.
“And I’m old and ugly and dumb?”
“Of course not, Zelda. That’s not what I implied. You asked me, I answered. I don’t think you’re old or ugly or—”
“—and she’s really good in bed, isn’t she? I hear you two a lot and I know she’s making you very—very happy in there.”
I laughed. “Shame on you—for listening. But I guess I can’t deny it, kid. Honey’s got the right chemistry for me. Everyone’s different, you know.”
“How would I be able to land someone like you?” She had only her robe on, and whether it was intentional or not, she leaned forward as I pulled her hand a bit more toward the light. As she did so, she revealed her ample bosom to me as they hung dangling against the white terrycloth. “How does a woman display herself to someone she might be interested in? I mean, I’m such a bookworm—I don’t even think I have a sexual personality.”
I pulled the sliver out. “Ah, there you are.” I got up to go but she pulled me back down onto her bed.
“Please—may I call you Cable?—I really don’t have a clue…”
“Well, Zelda…attraction between opposite sexes is usually made up of two things. One, chemistry and two, cosmetics. I think girls who get a lot of guys or attract a lot of men for whatever reasons, make themselves up—like Honey does when she goes out to sing or dance—you know, she wears a lot of makeup. But the chemistry part is a little more elusive…you either have it with someone, or you don’t.”
She took her glasses off and continued to lean forward, still exposing her full breasts to me in plain view. “How endowed does a girl have to be before a guy notices?” she asked in an innocent enough tone.
I quickly glanced at her breasts. “Ah…I—I think you are more than adequately endowed, young miss.”
“If I make myself up, leave my glasses at home—and gussy up with a sexy dress—will you take me out on a date?”
“Well, I’d do it for you, Zelda. But I do have to check with Honey.”
Then she hit me in a lonely, sensitive place, for I knew there were a million Zeldas in the world for every Honey Combes. “I’ve—I’ve never been on a date. If you can teach me how…I mean, how to behave, maybe I can be attractive to someone—do you think?” She leaned back, giving me relief that I wouldn’t have to be tempted by those large, welcoming honkers of hers.
“What about the guys at school? College should be a neat place to meet someone who might be attracted to you.”
“They’re all geeks, like me. You know, boneheads. Your life is exciting and that’s because you’re exciting, Cable. Most guys are boring. Of course, m
aybe I’m boring, too. How can we help who and what we are?”
“Well, we can’t very well, I’d guess. Seems we’re born the way we are and maybe we can change a few things here and there—”
Just then Honey walked down the hall and saw Zelda’s bedroom door open and me sitting on the bed with her roommate. “Aha! The hen’s barely gone and the rooster’s playing with the chicks, eh?” she laughed.
Zelda flushed a little. “Oh, Honey—it’s my fault. Cable was getting a sliver out of my thumb that I couldn’t. And we started talking about guys. Would you let him date me, so he can show me the ropes sometime?”
Honey raised her eyebrows. “Well, what’s been going on here?” She glanced at Zelda’s open robe. “That’s up to Cable, hon, but it’s okay with me. I don’t think you could have a better teacher than old flatfoot here.”
“Hey, thanks, kid!” I said, chuckling.
I bade Zelda good night with the promise that one day I’d take her out for dinner and a dance. She seemed thrilled.
Honey came in from the bathroom completely undressed except for her panties. “Laggore pestered me again tonight—something about me singing for a big birthday bash for one of Dragna’s lieutenants. Also, I got a call about a meeting at United Artists with Charlie Chaplin. I’m rather jazzed about that. If I get that part in City Lights, Cable, my career will be made…made…made, big guy!” She came over and pushed me onto the bed, jumping on top of me. “Now…with my lipstick, rouge and powder gone, you can muss me up all you want. Where do you want to start? I can think of several places—what about you, handsome?”
Before we made love that night, I told her I was going away in a couple of days. I tried to communicate the whole scenario without it sounding dangerous, but Honey’s instincts were powerful and she sensed a lot more was going on than I told her. “Don’t go away to die, Cable—I know you’ve been feeling us drift from each other. For me, baby, there is no other man. I am devoted to you and want you to come home to me. I know it would be of no use for me to try and convince you to stick to being a safe daytime policeman and we could live happily ever after. But I see it in your eyes, that restless thrill that comes from you being released into danger and the unknown. I don’t even know how I know that. I just do.”
Golden Throat (Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 1) Page 12
