by Bill Bernico
Eric nodded and turned to Simmons. “Come with me,” he said, turning Simmons around and placing his cuffs on Simmons’ wrists. Eric walked Simmons back to his cruiser and helped him into the back seat. He and his driver got in and drove away, leaving the four of us standing there.
“Let’s call it a day,” I suggested. “We can talk about this whole thing tomorrow. Right now I just want to kick off my shoes, sit in my easy chair and play with my son.” I took Gloria’s hand and walked her back to our car. It took us just ten minutes to get home.
Dean and Dad drove back to the office where Dean let Dad out to get his own car. Before he left, Dean rolled down the passenger side window and leaned over. “Thanks again, Clay,” he said. “I can’t remember a day I’ve enjoyed more.”
“That reminds me,” Clay said. “Did we mention to you about the guy who wants to turn our exploits into a book and possibly a movie?”
“Our exploits?” Dean said. “What exploits are those?”
“Well,” Clay said, “not our exploits. The Cooper Family exploits. He thinks there’s an interesting book in the fact that Elliott’s the third generation in this business. The guy interviewed all three of us and I was wondering if you would consent to be a part of this project, if Henry can work you into the story.”
“Henry?” Dean said.
“Henry Mandell,” Clay said. “He’s the guy writing the book with us and for us. Hell, you and your dad have been involved in so many of the cases we’ve handled, it would be a natural tie-in for him. You know, a lot of human interest stuff. What do you say? Want to see yourself portrayed on the big screen by Robert Duvall?”
“Robert Duvall?” Dean said. “Just how old do you think I am? I was thinking more like Brad Pitt.”
“Brad Pitt, yeah right,” Clay said. “You mean Zasu Pitts, don’t you?”
Even Dean had to laugh at that one. “Sure,” Dean said, “what the hell? It might even be fun. See if your guy wants to include me and Dad in the story.”
“Thanks, Dean,” Clay said and walked to his car.
That night at home, I turned to Gloria and said, “How do you feel now?”
“What do you mean?” Gloria said.
“I mean now that you don’t have to keep this secret from me anymore,” I said. “And speaking of secrets, earlier when we first talked about this I mentioned something to you about us never having any secrets before and you said something like, ‘Haven’t we?’ and I thought I senses some bitterness in your voice. Is there anything we should be talking about?”
Gloria thought about Elliott’s unintentional dalliance with Jane in the desert. She also realized that Elliott had no idea he was married at the time, due to the blow to the head he had suffered at the hands of his kidnappers. “No,” she said. “Nothing comes to mind. How about you? Anything you need to talk about?”
Elliott thought about Gloria and his dad having been a couple before Elliott had shown an interest. He knew that no good could come from a confrontation like that and he sure as hell did not want to drive a wedge between them now. “I have nothing, either,” Elliott said. “Why don’t you put that stuff down and come and sit with your family?”
Gloria laid the dish towel on the counter and sat next to Elliott, with little Matt between them. Elliott wrapped his arm around Gloria’s shoulder and pulled her close. Matt looked up between them and smiled. Gloria looked down and said, “Hey look at that, another tooth came in,” she said.
I touched the new tooth with my finger and smiled at Matt. He beamed and I felt like the luckiest man on earth. I had all that I could hope for and I was eager to see Matt grow up and take his rightful place alongside me and Dad and Grandpa Matt.
The following morning I called Henry Mandell from home and told him that we had some more material for him and not to have the ghost writer fabricate anything about the death of Gloria’s father. He sounded excited at the news and asked to meet all three of us again at the hotel. I told him I’d pass the word on to Dad and Gloria and that we’d be there by nine o’clock.
By the time we all arrived at the hotel, Henry was busy setting up the chairs in a circle, setting out a tray of drinks and arranging his digital recorder on the coffee table. We all took our seats and settled in for the final installment of The Cooper Saga, a working title that Henry had made up. We spent the next fifty-five minutes relaying the latest story of a Cooper case to Henry. When we’d finished, Henry laid down his yellow legal pad and switched off the recorder.
“Well,” Henry said, “that was certainly better than anything our writer could have come up with. It’ll fit right in with the rest of the material.”
“Henry,” Clay said, “You saw how important a role Dean Hollister played in helping resolve our last case. That got me to thinking about the Hollister connection to this whole story. Dean’s father, Dan and my father, Matt were the best of friends and often helped each other whenever they could. Dean and I have known each other since we were kids and the two of us have worked together pretty often. Can you work those two into the project? I think it would help move the story along and it would mean a lot to Dean.”
“Funny you should mention that, Clay,” Henry said. “I was discussing that very subject with the editor just yesterday. He wanted me to have you ask Mr. Hollister if he’d consider signing a release and a permission form for us to use his name in the book and his likeness on the screen. I can’t guarantee that we’ll use his actual name in either, but if he agrees to cooperate with us, he’ll know that it was he and his father that we were talking about.”
“And why is it you couldn’t use their real names?” Clay said.
“It has something to do with issues that only our legal department could fully explain,” Henry said. “But I’ll run it by them and see what they say.”
“Dean would like that,” Clay said.
“Any chance I could talk to this Dean Hollister?” Henry said.
“I’ll give him your number and have him call you,” Clay said. “In case he drops the ball, here’s his number.” Clay passed Henry a slip of paper with Dean’s cell number on it.
“Well, thank you all again for your cooperation and enthusiasm for this project,” Henry said. “I think you’ll be pleased with the final product. I’ll let you know more as it progresses.”
The three of us let ourselves out of the hotel room and drove back to the office. “This should prove interesting,” I said. “Meanwhile, we still have a business to run.”
A few minutes after we returned to the office, my desk phone rang. It was Lieutenant Anderson calling for Dad. I handed the phone to Dad and got out of my chair. Dad sat behind my desk and said, “Eric, what’s up this morning?”
“Just thought I’d let you know about Simmons before you read it in the papers,” Eric said.
“Simmons?” Dad said. “What about him?”
“Seems he was deathly afraid of going to prison,” Eric said. “The jailer found him this morning, with a sheet wrapped around his neck, hanging from his upturned bed. He must have really wanted to die, because his feet were on the floor. He couldn’t even get high enough off the floor to hang himself, so he just slouched with the sheet around his neck and stayed like that until he died. I just thought you’d all want to know.”
“Thanks for letting us know,” Dad said and hung up the phone.
“What is it, Clay?” Gloria said.
Dad turned toward us. “Ray Simmons is dead,” he said. “He hung himself in his cell last night.”
Gloria and I just looked at each other, speechless. It was an odd sensation, at least for me. For one, I didn’t really know the guy. I felt a little bad for him, but not enough to lose sleep over. On the other hand, he was indirectly involved with Ross Campbell’s death, willingly or not. He covered up Joey Rhodes’ death, resulting in three and a half years of restless and sometimes sleepless nights for Gloria. I weighed the facts and decided the world was a better place without Ray Simmons in it. Piss on h
im, him and Joey Rhodes both. When all was said and done, I’d decided that Simmons did the one right thing in his miserable existence—he killed himself.
Gloria looked at me and shrugged. “This may sound callous,” she said, “but I don’t care. Not one little bit. Does that make me a bad person?”
“Don’t give it another thought,” I said. “No one’s going to lose any sleep over him, leastwise you or me. He did us both a favor. Now we never have to wonder about whatever became of him or about the day when he’d get out of prison again and make someone else’s life miserable.”
“I suppose you’re right, Elliott,” Gloria said.
“Of course he is,” Dad said in my defense. “You can get on with your life and close that dark chapter for good now.”
“You know,” I said, “this is one of those details that Henry Mandell would like to know about. He’ll slide this into the story seamlessly. Another human interest tidbit, as he puts it.”
*****
It had been nearly six months since Dad and Gloria and I had given Henry Mandell our interviews. He’d kept in sporadic contact with us during that time but soon the calls stopped. Apparently he had nothing more to add until the book was actually in print and on the book store shelves. That was the reason for his call that morning.
“Cooper Investigations,” Gloria said. “Gloria Cooper speaking.
“Good morning, Gloria,” the man said. “This is Henry Mandell. Remember me?”
“Of course, Henry,” Gloria said. “We were beginning to think you’d forgotten about us. How’s the book coming along?”
“That’s why I’m calling,” Henry said. “It’s finished and printed and in the bookstores even as we speak. I was wondering if I could drop by the office with some complimentary copies for all of you.”
“Sure,” Gloria said. “When did you want to do that?”
“I’m in the neighborhood,” Henry said. “Would twenty minutes be too soon?”
“Not at all, Henry,” Gloria said. “We’ll be waiting for you. Thanks for calling.”
Gloria hung up and looked up to see Dad and me staring at her.
“That was Henry Mandell,” Gloria said.
“Yes,” I said. “We gathered that much. What’s the latest on the book?”
Gloria slammed both palms down hard on her desk. “He’s coming here with some complimentary copies for all of us. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“We’ll have to catch him another time,” I said. “Remember? We’re going to lunch today.” I paused and waited for the reaction that I knew was coming.
“What?” Gloria said. “What lunch?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dad said.
I laughed at both of them. “Gotcha,” I said, still laughing. “Of course we’ll be here when he gets here. I’m just as curious as both of you to get a look at it.”
Fifteen minutes later Henry walked through the door with a handful of books. He smiled when he saw us eagerly waiting for him. Without further small talk he gave each of us a copy of the book and set two more down on Gloria’s desk. “You can give one to Dean Hollister,” Henry said. “And there’s an extra one there for whoever wants it.”
I looked at the cover. It showed a black and white composite photo of a typical private eye dressed in a trench coat and fedora, the man’s head tilted down, covering his eyes. Behind him stood the smaller silhouette of another man, similarly dressed. And finally behind that man and slightly to the left stood a third man is similar garb looking toward the first tow figures. I took them to represent me and Dad and Grandpa Matt. The title of the book was The Not-So-Private Eyes. I turned to Henry. “I don’t get it,” I said, referring to the title.
We all mumbled our gratitude and immediately opened our copies of the book and began scanning the pages. “I have to say,” Henry told us, “that the secretary who typed this all up from the ghost writer’s notes did a splendid job except for…”
I looked up from my copy of the book. Gloria and Dad just kept perusing through their copies. “Except for what?” I said, closing my book.
Dad and Gloria had now closed their copies, too, and turned to look at Henry. “What did they screw up?” Dad said.
Henry looked at me and softly said, “I’m sorry, Elliott. I crossed certain things out of my notes but the secretary who was transcribing from the digital recorder didn’t know that some parts were supposed to be eliminated.”
“Which parts?” I said, my voice taking on a harder edge.
“Henry held another copy of the book in his hand. Sticking out of the top was a slip of paper, marking a specific page. He opened the book to that page and handed it to me. I read a paragraph or two and then looked at Henry sharply.
“I’m really sorry, Elliott,” Henry said.
Gloria wandered over to where I stood with Henry’s copy of the book open. “Can I see it, Elliott?” she said.
I reluctantly handed it to Gloria and took two steps to my left. Gloria read the passage and handed the book to Dad, who was trying to see over her shoulder. When Dad finished, he closed the book and tried not to look up at me. Gloria also had trouble making eye contact with me.
Henry felt uncomfortable and said, “I really have to be going now. And again, I’m sorry for the mix-up.”
Suddenly something dawned on me. “What about the movie?” I said. “Is it going to be in there, too?”
Henry nodded. “I’m afraid so, Elliott,” he said. “Century Studios bought the rights even before the book made it to print. They’re already in production.” Henry checked his watch again and reminded us that he was late for another appointment. He was out the door before I could even think of another question.
The silence hung in the room like a curtain in the moments following Henry’s departure. Finally Dad broke the silence and said, “Elliott, I don’t know what there is to say, except that you weren’t even in the picture when Gloria and I were involved. Later, after we both decided to break it off, we both thought it best if we just let it go and never mentioned it again.”
Gloria found her courage and said, “We never wanted to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, Elliott. That’s the only reason we never told you.”
My face was as somber as Buster Keaton’s for a few seconds before I broke into a sheepish grin. “Then you’re not mad at me?” I said.
“Mad at you?” Gloria said. “For what?”
“Didn’t you read that part of the book?” I said. “During the interview with Henry I was the one who let it slip out that you two had been involved. I would think it would be either of you or both of you who would be mad at me for letting the cat out of the bag that I’d known about you two for quite some time. I made a conscious effort not to let you both know that I’d found out. I didn’t want it to change anything between us. I didn’t want to split the three of us up, which I’m sure one of you would have suggested sooner or later. And you know what, Gloria? There were many times when I wanted to thank you for breaking it off with Dad. That probably saved his life.”
Dad and Gloria both stood there with their mouths hanging open. “You knew,” Dad said. “You’ve known all along?”
“Well,” I said, “not right off the bat. I figured it out from little clues both of you inadvertently dropped from time to time. I have to admit that I have a bit of a rough time wrapping my mind around the idea at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I had to admit that I’d rather have my dad around than cling to my foolish pride. Actually, I’m glad it’s out in the open now. We don’t have to tiptoe around it any longer. It’s in the past and it can stay there as far as I’m concerned.”
Gloria grabbed my neck and hugged me. “Oh, Elliott,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have you. I’m glad you got your memory back, too or I…” She stopped abruptly and let me go, stepping back.
“Or you what?” I said.
“Nothing,” Gloria said, hoping I’d drop the subject.
“No,” I s
aid, “you started to say something. Finish your thought. What about my memory? Are you referring to my kidnapping and being dumped in the desert?”
Elliott,” Dad said, stepping forward.
I held up one palm to Dad. “Hold on, Dad,” I said. “Gloria has something she wants to tell me.”
Gloria took a deep breath and let it out, straightening her posture. “All right,” she said, “since you asked. I’ve known about your stay with Jane in the desert. I’ve known about it since shortly after you got back.”
“What about my stay with Jane?” I said. “The woman saved my life.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Gloria said. “I’ll always be grateful to her for that. I’m talking about her taking you into her bed while you were there.”
I must have looked guilty, but I couldn’t muster up any real guilt over the situation. “Look,” I said, “when it happened, I didn’t even know who I was, let alone that I was married and had a baby. It wasn’t until the next day, when my memory started coming back that I realized what I’d done. It wasn’t my proudest moment, I have to admit, but I’d never have done anything like that had I known who I was.”
“I realize that, too,” Gloria said. “And that’s why I never confronted you with it. Like I said, I was just grateful to her for saving your life and bringing you back home to me again. I’d say that between the two of us…” Gloria looked at Dad and revised her statement. “Between the three of us, I’d say it would be best all around it none of us mentioned anything about these two incidents ever again. Agreed?”
Dad nodded. Gloria turned to me. “Agreed?”
I nodded, too and held my arms out wide. Gloria slowly stepped into the circle I’d created with my arms. I locked one arm around her and kept the other open in an arc. I looked at Dad and gestured for him to join us. He reluctantly stepped into the arc and I closed my other arm around my two favorite people in the world. We could finally move forward with nothing to hide.
*****
Seven months to the day after Henry had dropped off the complimentary books at our office, I got a call from Century Studios. It was the head of production, Jerome Horwitz calling to invite me and Gloria and Dad to the studios for a private screening of the movie. I told him we’d be honored to join him for the screening and I asked if it would be all right if I brought Dean Hollister along with us. Horwitz agreed that that would be fine and gave us the time and date of the screening. I told him I’d talk to the others and call him back within the hour.
