Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “I know what you mean,” I said. “I’d come into the office for free just to have some place to go and something to do, but there’s not much doing there, either.”

  A moment later we found ourselves standing outside of my house. Dean turned toward his car and said, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.” He dug in his pocket for his car keys.

  I snatched the keys out of his hand and walked toward my front door.

  Dean followed behind me, hurrying to catch up. “What are you doing with my keys?” he said.

  “You’re not driving anywhere tonight,” I said. “You can stay here until tomorrow morning. I have a spare bedroom. Besides, once I get settled in I don’t want to have to get up and get dressed and go downtown to identify your body after they pull it out of your wreck of a car. Come on, no arguments. You’re staying here tonight.”

  Dean made a grab for the keys, but I pulled them out of his reach. He finally gave up and resigned himself to stay with me tonight. When we got inside, he flopped down on the sofa and closed his eyes.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a standing position. “Not there,” I said, and pushed him toward the guest bedroom. I opened the door and pointed at the bed. “There,” I said. “And make sure you take your shoes off.”

  “Yes, ma,” Dean said and closed the door.

  I was ready to climb into my own bed when the phone rang on my living room end table. I quickly picked it up and in a sleepy voice, said, “Who is this? Do you know what time it is?”

  “Dad, it’s me,” my son, Elliott said. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the last couple of hours. Where have you been?”

  “I was out with Dean Hollister,” I said. “We just got back. He’s staying here tonight. I think he’s had a few too many.”

  “Uh huh,” Elliott said. “And that means you’ve had a few too many, too, doesn’t it?”

  “What’s your point?” I said. “We’re both big boys now. We can take care of ourselves.”

  “Yeah?” Elliott said. “Which one of you was driving?”

  “We walked,” I said. “The bar was just down the block and when we got back I took Dean’s keys so he wouldn’t drive. You happy now?”

  “Well, thank goodness for that anyway,” Elliott said.

  “You didn’t say what you wanted,” I said.

  “What?” Elliott said.

  “Why were you trying to call me?” I said. “What was so important?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Elliott said. “I almost forgot. “I have to go out on a case tomorrow and Gloria has a dentist appointment. I wanted to see if you could come in and just keep an eye on the place while we’re out. You know, watch the phones, talk to anyone who might wander in.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think I remember the routine. What time did you need me to come in?”

  “Gloria’s appointment is at ten,” Elliott said. “And I have to meet a client at eleven, so if you could make it by ten-thirty, that would help.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said. “Anything else, or can I go to bed now?”

  “Go on to bed,” Elliott said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Give Gloria a hug for me,” I said, before hanging up the phone and walking back to my bedroom.

  I hung up, waited for the dial tone and then dialed Dean’s house. His wife, Helen answered.

  “Sorry if I woke you, Helen,” I said. “It’s Clay Cooper. Just wanted to let you know Dean’s staying here with me tonight. I didn’t want him driving.”

  “Thanks, Clay,” Helen said. “I can use the mini vacation. Dean’s been hanging around the house way too much lately. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself for a change. Thanks for calling.”

  “I’ll have him call you when he gets up tomorrow,” I said.

  “Thanks, Clay,” Helen said, and hung up.

  The next morning I was up by eight. I shaved and showered and was dressed long before Dean stirred in the guest bedroom. I had the coffee pot on the stove and breakfast on the table right about the time Dean emerged, showered and dressed and looking like he’d live another day. I poured him a cup of coffee and put the pot back on the stove. I didn’t drink it myself, but kept some around for guests.

  “How’s the head?” I said, as Dean took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Still in one piece,” he said, sipping from his cup. He set the cup down and looked at me. “You know, for someone who doesn’t drink the stuff, you sure make a mean pot of coffee.”

  I shrugged. “Dad never drank it, either,” I said. “I learned how to make the stuff when Gloria started with us a few years back. She and Elliott drink it, God knows why.”

  Dean took another sip. “Ah,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  I poured myself a tall glass of chocolate milk and drank from it. “Ah,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Suddenly Dean realized that I was dressed better than I normally was. “What’s with you?” he said, gesturing toward me with his coffee cup. “Going out on a job interview or something?”

  “Didn’t you hear the phone last night after you went to bed?” I said.

  Dean shook his head. “Guess not,” he said. “I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. Somebody call?”

  “Elliott,” I said. “He needs me to come into the office this morning for a while. I guess Gloria has a dentist appointment and he has to see a client, so I’m holding down the fort until one of ‘em gets back. Hey, why don’t you come with me? It can get a little boring there all by myself.”

  “And what am I supposed to do while you count flowers on the wall?” Dean said.

  “We don’t have any flowers on the wall,” I said.

  “That was just a figure of speech,” Dean said. “What am I supposed to do while you stare out the window and dangle your feet? Is that better?”

  I pulled open a kitchen drawer and pulled out a pack of playing cards, waving them in Dean’s face. “Huh?” I said. “Maybe a little two-handed poker or gin?”

  Dean finished his eggs and bacon, washing it down with his coffee. “I guess,” he said. “When do they need you in?”

  “Ten-thirty,” I said. “Oh, and by the way, I called Helen last night and told her you were here.”

  Dean slapped his forehead. “Helen,” he said. “That’s right, I almost forgot about her.”

  “I told her you’d call her this morning after you got up,” I said. “She mentioned something about wanting the house to herself for a while, so don’t sweat coming with me to the office.”

  Dean walked into the living room, sat on the sofa and picked up the phone. A moment later, after he’d finished his call home, he came back to the kitchen. “She’s cool with it,” he said. “She told me to take my time.”

  “Well, then,” I said. “Looks like it’s you and me this morning. Just make sure you bring your money. You still owe me from the last game.” I looked on my wall calendar and read my note, turning back to Dean. “You’re into me for three dollars and fifteen cents.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d remember,” Dean said. “I’ll win that back and then some.”

  “We’ve got plenty of time yet,” I said. “Why don’t you settle into the easy chair and turn on the TV? Let’s see what the weatherman has in store for us today. I just need to clean up these dishes before I can relax. Don’t like them hanging over me.”

  “Okay, Mr. OCD,” Dean said. “You know where to find me when you’re done.” He stepped into the living room, flopped down in my favorite chair, grabbed the remote and turned on the television set.

  “Try channel seven,” I yelled from the kitchen. “They have the best coverage.”

  Dean pressed the seven on the remote and then set it on the coffee table. The screen switched to a man standing in front of a map of the United States. He was pointing to a high pressure area over Colorado, saying something about the snow that was headed toward Denver.

  I finished the last of
the dishes and joined Dean in front of the TV. I grabbed the remote and turned the volume up enough so that I could actually hear the anchorman.

  Dean looked at me and scowled. “Think you got that loud enough, old man?” he said.

  “Oh,” I said, and turned it down three notches. “Habit, I guess. I always thought my hearing would be the second thing to go.”

  “Second?” Dean said. “What was the first?” Then it dawned on him and he blushed. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Never mind.” There was an awkward moment of silence before he added, “You ever think about trying the little blue pill?”

  I shrugged. “First I’d have to have a reason,” I said. “I don’t even have a steady girlfriend these days. What about you?”

  “Helen wouldn’t let me have one,” Dean said, smiling. “Oh, you mean… No, I don’t have any trouble in that department.”

  “You will,” I said. “Just give it time.”

  The screen on the television switched from the weather man to the news anchor, who shuffled a few papers in front of him and said, “To recap our top story this morning, another body was found last night, this time in the hills below the Hollywood sign. That makes three murders in as many weeks, all presumed to have been killed by the same person or persons unknown. We’ll keep you updated as we learn more.”

  “Gonna be one of those days, is it?” Dean said.

  “What kind of day is that?” I said.

  “The kind where all the crazies come out of the woodwork,” Dean said. “Whenever they find another body, the police get swamped with people who just have to confess to the murder, whether they did it or not. I remember back about twenty years ago when there was that string of killings tied into those Beatle songs. We had a dozen or more people confessing to those murders. Most of them ended up in the mental hospital.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said. “I was there, remember?”

  “I did thank you for your help on that one, didn’t I?” Dean said.

  “Many many times,” I said. “Glad I could help.”

  Dean rode with me to the office. Gloria had already left for her dentist appointment and Elliott was just slipping into his jacket when we walked in the door. Elliott looked at me and then over at Dean.

  “Figured you needed some help watching the phones, Dad?” Elliott said.

  “We’re switching off,” I said. “Dean and I figured we could trade off in shifts of ten minutes each. That way neither of us would get bored.”

  “Funny, Dad,” Elliott said. “What’s the other one going to do when one of you is hard at work watching the phones?”

  Dean help up one hand. “Nap time,” he said. “These days I don’t have much of an attention span, so ten minutes is all I can nap before I need to move on to more stimulating activities. You just run along now, Junior. Your pappy and I can take it from here.”

  I had to laugh. I’d never heard Dad referred to as Pappy before and I suddenly got a mental picture of Popeye’s father. “You two kids just behave yourself and don’t get into any mischief while I’m out.”

  “Bye, Elliott,” Dad said, waving and rolling his eyes at me.

  “Gees,” Dean said. “I thought he’d never leave. Come on, break out the cards and let’s get this game going. I need to pay off that three dollar debt before you have a conniption fit.”

  “Three dollars and fifteen cents,” I reminded him.

  “Why don’t I just give you four Viagra pills and call it even?” Dean said.

  “Like I told you before,” I said, “I don’t even have a steady girlfriend. What am I supposed to do with those?”

  “Never hurts to be ready,” Dean said, and shuffled the cards.

  We were three hands into the big game when Elliott’s phone rang. I looked at Dean, who was sitting across from me at Elliott’s desk. “You gonna get that?” I said.

  “You’re closer,” Dean said. “Besides, this isn’t my family’s business.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But this was your shift.”

  I picked up the phone. “Cooper Investigations,” I said. “This is Clay Cooper.”

  “Clay,” the voice said. “This is Eric Anderson. What are you doing there?”

  “Hey, Lieutenant,” I said. “Good to hear your voice again. You looking for Elliott?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was,” Eric said. “Is he in?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “He and Gloria are both out. I’m watching the office today and Dean Hollister’s here keeping me company. What can we do for you?”

  “I guess you’ll have to do,” Eric said.

  “Stop,” I said. “All this flattery is bound to go to my head.”

  “That didn’t come out right, did it?” Eric said. “What I meant to say was I think I can throw some work Elliott’s way if he’s free.”

  “Well,” I said. “He’s not free, but his rates are reasonable.”

  “I can see you’re having too much fun with this stand-up comedy routine,” Eric said. “Maybe I should call the Acme Agency. I’ll bet they’d have an agent available.”

  I straightened up immediately. “Sorry, Eric,” I said. “What can we do for you?”

  “You know,” Eric said. “You both do have the experience this job requires and since Elliott is out, how would you two geriatrics like to earn a few bucks helping me out for the afternoon?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Who do you want whacked?”

  “Come on,” Clay,” Eric said. “Can we be serious for just a minute?”

  “Sorry, Eric,” I said. “I just get carried away sometimes. What do you need?”

  “We’re just a bit short-handed here at the twelfth precinct,” Eric said. “I have six men out on vacation and another one in the hospital. I could use a couple of fresh minds while I try to figure something out.”

  “You got one in the hospital?” I said. “Gunshot?”

  “Appendix,” Eric explained.

  “Well,” I said, “our minds aren’t exactly fresh, but they’re still sharp as two tacks. When did you need us?”

  “Twenty minutes ago,” Eric said. “But I guess you’re both too busy watching the phones over there. Too bad you haven’t heard about that new contraption they came out with called the answering machine. It’ll handle the calls for you while you’re away.”

  “I get the picture,” I said. “Dean and I are on our way. Don’t call Acme just yet.”

  I hung up and looked up at Dean. “Feel like a little stimulating work?” I said. “Eric can use us for a day, at least, unless you’re set on losing another three bucks playing cards.”

  “I don’t know,” Dean said.

  “I’ll forget the three-fifteen you owe me,” I said.

  Dean threw his cards down on the desk. “Let’s go, Clay.” He said, heading for the door.

  We pulled into the parking lot behind the twelfth precinct and hurried down the hall to Lieutenant Eric Anderson’s office. Dean could have found his way in the dark, since it used to be his office before he retired. Dean knocked and let us in without waiting to be invited.

  Eric turned around in his chair and stood to greet us. “Well, if it isn’t the Over-The-Hill Gang come to visit,” he said.

  Dean and I looked at each other and turned around toward the exit.

  “Come on, guys,” Eric said. “You may not exactly be over the hill, but I’ll bet you can see it from where you are.”

  Dean slapped my shoulder. “I think he’s talking about you, old man,” he said.

  “Come on,” Eric said. “Sit down and I’ll explain what I need from you two professionals.”

  “Now that’s good schmoozin’,” Dean said. “You could learn a lot from this guy.”

  We sat across from Eric while he laid it all out for us. “No doubt,” Eric said, “you’ve already heard about that third body they we found last night up in the hills just beneath the Hollywood sign.”

  We both nodded, our interest piqued now. “What about it?” Dean said.
/>   “You’ve probably also heard that this is the third body to turn up in the last three weeks,” Eric said.

  “So we’ve heard,” I said. “Besides the obvious, what’s troubling you about this spree?”

  “The fact that there doesn’t seem to be any pattern, rhyme or reason,” Eric said. “No apparent connection between the three killings and it’s driving me nuts trying to come up with something I can use.”

  Eric took a few steps to his right and stood in front of a large map of Hollywood that hung on the wall. It was a laminated model that could be written on, erased and used over and over as needed. Behind the lamination was a thin metal sheet, making the map surface doubly handy for use with small round magnets to mark designated areas. Eric picked up one of the small magnets and placed it over the spot on the map where the Hollywood sign was located.

  “This is where we found the third victim last night,” he said. “It was a woman named Ruth Baker, age sixty-six and a grandmother of twelve. How she got way up there, we still haven’t figured out.”

  There were already two other magnets on the map. One was sitting just east of the Golden State Freeway, at about the spot where Chevy Chase Drive dead ends. Eric pointed to this magnet.

  “There’s a wooded area here alongside the freeway,” he said, pointing. “That’s where we found the second victim, one Malcolm McCormick, age fifty-eight. It looked like he’d been dead for at least forty-eight hours before the body was discovered.”

  “What about that first button, there on Hollywood and Highland?” I said.

  “That was where they found the first victim three days ago,” Eric said. “That one was a twenty-three year old woman named Doris Connelly. No pattern in the victims’ ages, either. The body was found north of the boulevard, behind the Hollywood First National Building. There’s a small gap between it and the Oriental food stand next to it. It has a wrought iron gate in front of it.”

  “I’ve seen that,” Dean said. “It’s on the east side of Highland.”

  “Exactly,” Eric said, turning back to the map. “Just look at these three locations. There’s no pattern there that I can see. Connect the dots and you don’t even get a decent right triangle. I don’t get it.”