by Bill Bernico
I looked at Tracy and smiled. “I’d dare say that the only person who’s likely to complain is the guy on the floor holding his neck,” I said. “Of course, by the time he gets out of prison, no one will care what happened here today. Don’t worry about it. You did what you had to do.”
Tracy breathed easier but was still visibly shaken. A few minutes later a black and white patrol car rolled into the parking lot and two officers walked in to look over the scene. A minute later an ambulance pulled up to the building and two attendants rolled a gurney into the burger joint. I walked over to the two officers and started to show my I.D. to one of them.
“Elliott,” the first officer said. “What are you doing here?” It was Jim Davidson, a cop I knew through my association with Dean Hollister.
“Hey Jim,” I said. “I just stopped in for a burger and shake.” I looked at my watch. It was one ten. “Oh gees,” I said. “I was supposed to be back at the office ten minutes ago. You need anything from me?”
“Go on,” Officer Davidson said. “I know where to find you if I need anything else.”
“Thanks, Jim,” I said, and headed toward the door when I remembered that I still had the robber’s gun in my pocket. I turned around and stepped over to when Jim was questioning Tracy. I tapped him on the shoulder. “Almost forgot this,” I said, handing Jim the gun. “It’s his.” I pointed to the man squirming around on the gurney.
“Thanks, Elliott,” Jim said.
“Yeah, thanks, Elliott,” the manager echoed.
“Don’t thank me,” I said. “Thank Tracy. She’s the one who stopped him.” Tracy smiled as I hurried back out to my car and drove back to the office.
When I walked back into the office, Gloria made an exaggerated gesture of looking at her wrist, where there was no watch. She held the imaginary watch up to her ear and then tapped on the imaginary crystal, returning it to her ear. “Musta stopped,” she said, grinning a sly grin.
“Hey,” I said. “I would have been back on time but...” And I proceeded to give her the details of my interesting encounter at the burger joint.
When I got to the part where Tracy dumped hot oil down the robber’s neck, Gloria winced.
“Ouch,” she said, holding her neck. “That had to hurt.”
I laughed. “Not as much as if Tracy would have sprinkled salt on it afterwards.”
That made Gloria laugh and then immediately cover her mouth, as if the laugh was somehow inappropriate. “I guess I’ll skip the pizza I was planning for tonight.”
“Why?” I said.
“Because every time I look at it, I’ll be thinking of that guy’s neck,” Gloria said.
I was still taking bites out of my hamburger but paused and looked at the place where I’d taken a bite. I shrugged and took another bite, washing it down with another sip from my shake. I looked at Gloria. “Gloria,” I said, “Take a memo, would you?”
Gloria grabbed a notepad and pencil. “Go ahead,” she said.
“Type up a memo reminding me to discipline myself for taking more than an hour for lunch,” I said.
Gloria had written down exactly two words before she caught the joke and threw the notepad and pencil on my desk. “Very funny,” she said. “So what have we got going for us today?”
“Funny you should ask,” I said. “While you were out this morning, I got a call from Ernie Ballard, an old acquaintance of Dad’s from Arizona. He’d like to meet with me to discuss a matter he’d like me to handle for him.”
“He wants to meet with you and discuss a matter he’d like you to handle for him,” Gloria said, emphasizing ‘you’ both time. “And what am I supposed to do while you are doing this?” This time she emphasized ‘I’ and ‘you’.
“Naturally, we’ll handle this together,” I said. “Partners, remember?”
“When is he coming here?” Gloria said, softening her attitude.
“He’s not,” I said.
Gloria face took on a puzzled look. “So we’re going to him?” she asked.
“Not quite,” I said.
“That doesn’t leave any other options,” Gloria said.
“Except one,” I said. “Ernie wants to meet us somewhere between Los Angeles and Winslow.”
“That covers a lot of area,” Gloria said. “Did he narrow that down at all?”
I sat behind my desk, finished the last sip from my shake and tossed the empty cup in my trashcan. “We’re supposed to take the train east and he’s gonna get on somewhere along the way. Ernie said he’d meet up with us on the train.”
“Sounds like he has a flair for the dramatic,” Gloria said. “You think Ernie’s been watching too many Alfred Hitchcock movies? How are we supposed to know where he’s getting on so we can watch for him?”
I stepped over to my closet and pulled a small box off the shelf and set it on my desk. A few seconds later I pulled out a neatly folded train schedule that Dad had always kept. I never bothered to ask him why he kept it, since I’d never known him to take the train anywhere. I unfolded it and spread it out on top of my desk.
“Take a look at this,” I said, beckoning Gloria over. I pointed to several cities on the map. “Looks like the train starts in Los Angeles with stops in six California cities along the way. There are only four stops in Arizona, so that should narrow it down a little for us. I’d say we find the mid-point and start spreading outward one city at a time. Chances are he’ll get on the train at one of those cities.”
“What are the choices?” Gloria said.
“All right,” I said. “First let’s determine the mid-point of this journey. Distance-wise I’d say Needles is pretty close to the middle of that route, so if he doesn’t get on at Needles, then he’ll probably get on at either Barstow or Kingman, which are one stop either side of center. The next choices on either side would be either Victorville or Williams Junction.”
Gloria glanced at the map. “How long’s a trip like that take?” she said.
“Let’s have a look,” I said and ran my finger across the map. “It’s just over five hundred miles and according to this, it would take eleven hours and twenty-four minutes by train.”
“That ridiculous,” Gloria said. “Hell, you can drive that in eight and a half hours. Why would this guy insist on the train?”
“If he wants it this way,” I said, “I’m sure he has a good reason for it, so I think we should just play along with him for now. Besides, the trip’ll do us both good. We can use a break after two solid months of work. We can just sit back and enjoy the scenery.”
“I suppose so,” Gloria said. “When is this mystery meet supposed to take place?”
“Tomorrow around midnight,” I said. “Which means we’ll have to catch the six-fifteen from Union Station tomorrow night. It would pull into Winslow at five thirty-nine the next morning, but if he’s getting on mid-way that would put our rendezvous at about midnight. And that brings us back to one of the cities in the middle of the route.”
“Still,” Gloria said, “that’s six hours on the train. What are we gonna do for six hours?”
“Are you a card player?” I said.
“Solitaire,” Gloria said. “But I don’t suppose that’s what you had in mind.”
“No,” I said. “I was thinking more along the lines of Poker or Gin Rummy.”
“I suppose I could learn,” Gloria said.
“Great,” I told her. “We’ll meet tomorrow right here in the office at four o’clock. That’ll give us plenty of time to make Union Station and buy our tickets and get our luggage checked and…”
“Luggage?” Gloria said. “It’s just a six hour ride. This isn’t Gilligan’s three hour tour where all the passengers magically had twenty changes of clothes with them.”
“Six hours there,” I said. “And six hours back, plus whatever time it takes us to conclude our business. What if the business keeps us overnight?”
“Okay,” Gloria agreed. “One carry-on each should do it.”
“You’re lucky we’re not driving this route,” I said.
“Why?” Gloria asked.
“Because Ernie would probably want to meet us by noon and that would mean we’d be leaving early in the morning,” I said. “We’d probably have to get going by six a.m. Could you be up and ready to go by then?”
Gloria looked at me sideways. “By six o’clock I’ve usually already had breakfast, jogged two miles and showered. You, on the other hand...”
“What about me?” I said. “I’m always here on time.”
“Which means you probably roll out of the sack around eight, have your donut and coffee, read the paper and roll in here just before nine,” Gloria said sarcastically. “You really have to switch trainers.”
“I tried jogging a while ago,” I said. “After three blocks I realized that I’m not a jogger. I’m a donut and newspaper kind of guy and that suits me just fine.”
“And this conversation is fruitless,” Gloria said. “We’re not driving, we’re taking the train so why even get into it?”
“No reason,” I said. “You know what, forget I mentioned it.”
“Mentioned what?” Gloria said.
I started to repeat myself and then realized I’d been outwitted.
Shortly before four o’clock the next day I walked into the office to find Gloria already there. She was sitting behind her desk browsing the internet on her laptop. She looked up when she heard the office door open.
“Seems like we just left here,” I said.
“We did,” Gloria said. “Two hours ago. I wonder why they don’t offer a morning schedule for the train trip.”
“I’m sure they’ve got it all figured out,” I said. “After a hundred and some years of train trips back and forth to the east, they probably discovered that this is the highest profit schedule. Either that, or the big shots running the railroads don’t like to get up early. Who knows?”
Gloria closed the cover on her laptop and slipped it into the leather case that she used for carrying the computer around with her. “Shall we go?” she said.
“You’re taking your laptop along?” I said.
“Sure, why not?” Gloria said. “When the trip starts to get boring, let’s say, as we’re pulling out of Union Station, I can always play solitaire on it.”
“Gees,” I said, “You’re going into this with an open mind, aren’t you?”
“Just being practical,” Gloria said. “You want to leave your car here and ride with me?”
“Makes more sense,” I said. “I only have to transfer my one small bag to your Jeep. You’d probably have to move a dozen bags to my car.”
Gloria looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “You must have me confused with some shallow, superficial, self-absorbed woman,” she said. “Remember, I’m the practical one.”
“Whatever,” I said, locking the door behind us and walking toward the elevator.
In the parking lot behind my building, I retrieved my suitcase and tossed in the back of Gloria’s Jeep, next to her one suitcase. I climbed in next to her and we headed off to Union Station. Gloria let me off at the front door along with our two bags and then parked her Jeep in the lot. She met me at the front door and then looked up at the clock tower alongside the main entrance. It was just four-thirty and it had begun to rain. I carried the bags inside and set them down near the ticket counter.
“Can I help you?” the ticket man said.
“Two tickets to Winslow, Arizona,” I said, digging my wallet out of my back pocket. I paid the man for the tickets, slipped them into my coat pocket and picked up our bags.
“We might as well find a seat,” Gloria said. “We’re here almost two hours early. And why is that?”
“I don’t take the train every day,” I said. “In fact, this will be my first trip anywhere by train. I just figured you had to be here ahead of time, like at the airport. If you wanna go jog your two miles, now would be a good time. I’ll wait here for you with my donut.”
“Does that run in your family?” Gloria said.
“What’s that?” I said.
“Sarcasm,” Gloria said. “You seem to be full of it lately.”
“Tell you what,” I said. “How about if we just sit here and try to relax before we have to board the train?”
“And do what?” Gloria said.
I thought for a moment and offered, “How about if we just people watch for a while. You’d be surprised how much entertainment value there is in that.”
“Entertainment?” Gloria said. “What’s entertaining about watching people just like us sit around?”
“Just like us?” I said. “I don’t think so. For example, take a look at the couple over by the coffee concession. You can tell who wears the pants in that family. The look on that poor guy’s face tells a story all by itself.”
“A story?” Gloria said. “And what story are you getting out of watching them?”
“All right,” I said. “Even without hearing their conversation, I’ll bet she’s chewing him a new one for some minor infraction of her rules. Look at his face. Inside he’s steaming, but outside he’s trying his darndest to keep from telling her to drop dead.”
“And that’s what you get from a ten second glimpse of some unknown couple?” Gloria said.
“Well,” I added, “At least I can look at him and say, ‘That’s not me’. Oh yeah, I wanna rush off and get married, all right.”
“Okay,” Gloria said. “Even if that’s what’s going on with those two, that doesn’t mean it happens with every couple. What about the situations where the wife is physically abused and the guy has the upper hand? You think that’s a picnic for the woman?”
“Maybe not.” I said. “But nobody’s making that particular woman stick around for more. If she doesn’t want to be anyone’s punching bag, she could always just walk away.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Gloria said. Those kind of women are usually dependant on the husband. They’re more often than not, undereducated, unskilled and couldn’t make it on their own, so they’re stuck.”
“Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s look for another couple and then you can tell me what you see just by looking at them.”
“All right,” Gloria said, scanning the people in the waiting room.
There were people sitting behind us that we could hear but not see and we didn’t want to turn around and stare at them. Their conversation was getting louder and we couldn’t help but overhear the woman.
I could hear her say, “Give it to me, come on, give it to me. I’m so wet.”
I turned to Gloria and snickered. She elbowed me in the ribs and cocked her head to hear the man’s reply.
The man said, “Shhh, you’re making a scene.”
The unseen woman repeated, “Come on, give it to me. I can’t get much wetter.”
The man replied, “Well, then if you can’t get much wetter, why should I give you my umbrella? Come on, Phyllis, let’s get out to the car before it really starts to come down.”
Gloria broke out in full laughter at the punch line. She wrapped her arms around mine and leaned into me, convulsing silently.
“Didn’t I tell you this was entertainment?” I said. I checked my watch. Our train still wouldn’t be pulling out of the station for another hour and a half. I turned to Gloria. “You want some coffee?”
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “Cream, no sugar.”
I got her a coffee and got myself a diet soda. We sat there on the bench in relative silence.
Finally, Gloria said, “So how do you know this guy we’re going to meet?”
“Ernie?” I said. “Dad told me about Ernie a couple of years ago when he was working a case that involved an Arizona bail jumper. Ernie was a bail bondsman and bounty hunter from Phoenix and his client had jumped bail and headed for L.A. Ernie hired Dad to track the guy down and let him know where he could find him. Dad found the guy in a flop house on Western and Hollywood
and called Ernie. Ernie came to L.A. himself to bring his bail jumper back to Phoenix. He and Dad stayed in touch after that.”
“Why didn’t your dad just bring the guy in?” Gloria said.
“Bounty hunters can do that,” I explained. “Private detectives can’t. There’s an old law on the books that allows bounty hunters to detain, capture and even extradite fugitives with impunity. A bounty hunter can enter the fugitive’s private property without a warrant in order to execute a re-arrest. But they can’t enter the property of anyone other than the fugitive without a warrant or the owner’s permission.”
“How do you know all this?” Gloria said.
“Dad told me after Ernie hired him to find the bail jumper,” I said. “At one time, Dad was thinking about expanding our investigations business to include bounty hunting. A bounty hunter can collect ten per cent of the bail that was originally posted and in some capital cases that can run into big bucks.”
“What happened?” Gloria said. “I mean, bounty hunting is not part of your business today, is it?”
“No,” I explained. “Dad and I talked about it and decided to stick with what we know best. What about your dad? How long was he in the business?”
Gloria thought for a moment. “Let’s see, Dad started his investigation business when I was six or seven,” she said. “That would have been sometime in the late eighties. Yeah, 1988. I remember ‘cause I was in first grade when he moved us from Bakersfield to Los Angeles. I guess there wasn’t much call for a P.I. in Bakersfield.”
“And when did you know that’s what you wanted to do?” I said.
Gloria smiled with nostalgia. “It was the summer after I finished college. That would have been eight years ago. Here I was with my college degree and still not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. That summer Dad let me tag along with him on a couple of cases. I guess he just needed a driver or a gopher or maybe he just wanted some company. Anyway, once I saw what his job involved, I was hooked. I got whatever else I needed to join Dad in the business and never regretted it for a minute.”
“What was your major?’ I said.
