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

by Bill Bernico

“Thank you, Mr. History,” Eileen said sarcastically. “Where are we sleeping tonight?”

  “Well,” Rob said, “there are only small burgs between here and Albuquerque so it doesn’t pay to make any stops if we don’t have to. Albuquerque should provide enough pickings to get us the rest of the way, providing we make every pick count.”

  “We will,” Eileen said. “I just want to get to L.A. and stop sitting on my ass for ten hours a day in this damned car.”

  Rob and Eileen left Albuquerque the next morning with another two hundred and some change and none of their victims had been the wiser. By the time any of them realized they’d been picked, the two career criminals were long gone.

  Rob drove on through to Arizona, passing Holbrook, Winslow and Flagstaff in the process. There were way too far north to make a stopover in Phoenix and decided just to drive on through to California. Rob filled the car’s gas tank one more time before venturing out into the desert. Their money was dwindling fast. Rob stayed on I-40 through Kingman and Needles, severing their connection to the interstate in Barstow. From there Rob drove south on I-15 and then caught I-10 into Los Angeles.

  “Well,” Rob said, “we made it. Just look around you. There has to be five million pockets to pick out here.”

  “Tomorrow,” Eileen said. “All I want to do tonight is take a long shower and sleep until next spring.”

  “I’m all for that,” Rob said. “Except I don’t think I’ll waste the next six months hibernating. We’ve got work to do and pockets to pick and fortunes to make, and I don’t want to waste an extra minute. Tell you what, we’ll sleep in until noon or so then we’ll get to work.”

  “After lunch,” Eileen added.

  “So where do you want to sleep?” Rob said.

  “How about in a hotel?” Eileen said.

  “No,” Rob said, “I mean did you want to sleep in L.A. or Hollywood? It’s just another five miles north of here. How long could it take and besides I’d kind of like to see the old place again. It’s been a few years since I was here last. I’d kind of like to show you around.”

  “Okay, Hollywood,” Eileen said.

  Funny how nothing had changed since my last trip out here. Those five miles took them forty-five minutes via the freeway. It was bumper to bumper, stop-and-go driving all the way into Hollywood. Rob exited the freeway at Hollywood Boulevard and drove west, past familiar sights he’d known as a younger man.

  Eileen yawned and stretched. “Couldn’t you save the guided tour for tomorrow when my eyes will be open?” she said. “All I want to do now is sleep.”

  “Oh, all right,” Rob said, pulling into the parking lot of the first motel he found. They left the luggage in the car, went straight into the room and pulled back the covers on the bed. Eileen slipped out of her shoes, discarded her clothes on the floor and crawled under the covers nude. She was fast asleep before Rob could do the same.

  It was past eleven-thirty the next morning before either of them stirred. They showered, dressed and walked next door to the café on the corner. The café was one of those that served breakfast any time of day, so they each ordered breakfast and enjoyed it slowly. It was quarter to one when they walked back to their car.

  “Okay,” Rob said, “you’ve had your breakfast. Now you’re going to get the fifty cents tour.”

  “Oh goody,” Eileen said, as Rob pulled out onto Hollywood Boulevard and headed west.

  “See that street,” Rob said as they approached Cahuenga. “Hollywood and Cahuenga was where Philip Marlowe had his office.

  “Philip who?” Eileen said.

  “Marlowe,” Rob said. “Where have you been for the last three quarters of a century? Philip Marlowe is about thee most famous private detective there ever was.”

  “Really?” Eileen said. “Must have been before my time. When did he die?”

  Rob slapped his head. “He didn’t,” he said. “He’s a fictional character created by Raymond Chandler back in the thirties and forties right here in Hollywood. You remember that old movie we watched on TV last month?”

  “Which old movie?” Eileen said. “We watch so many.”

  “You remember,” Rob said. “It was the one with Humphrey Bogart checking out that guy who was peddling the smutty magazines in the rain.”

  “I remember the movie,” Eileen said. “What about it?”

  “That was The Big Sleep,” Rob said. “Bogart was playing Philip Marlowe.”

  “Okay,” Eileen said. “I get the connection. But that was seventy years ago. Who cares about him now?”

  “Only anyone who’s into private eye movies,” Rob said. “They’re still making Philip Marlowe movies these days.”

  “Okay,” Eileen said, “so this was the fictional spot of some fictional detective from way back when. I don’t see any historical marker.”

  “Forget it,” Rob said. “I just want to stop and walk around the place for a few minutes just so I can say I did it and cross it off my bucket list, all right? Besides, look at all the people milling around out there. We could probably pick a pocket or two before we move on. We can always use the extra cash.”

  Eileen looked out the window and had to agree that the throngs of people walking up and down the sidewalk would present a unique opportunity. “Okay,” Eileen said. “Thirty minutes, then we move on.”

  “Thirty minutes of picking,” Rob said, “but only after I get ten minutes to just walk around and soak up the atmosphere.” He looked toward the curb and said, “And there’s a parking space. It’s like karma, you know. Like it was meant to be.” Rob piloted the sedan into the empty space, dropped two quarters in the parking meter and just stood there, taking in the sights and going back to the forties in his mind.

  Eileen tapped him on the shoulder ten minutes later. “Seen enough, Humphrey?” she said. “Let’s get to work and get out of here. And the sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned. This must be the lunchtime crowd. They’re thick as fleas on this sidewalk. And what’s with all these stars in the cement?”

  “We’re on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, I’ll have you know,” Rob said. “I’ll fill you in later on its history, but for now let’s just find us some spending money. There’s a likely candidate right there. Probably a housewife with the week’s grocery money in that purse. You do the usual distraction and I’ll get inside the bag.”

  Eileen moved away from Rob and came toward their selected target from another angle. When she got close enough, Eileen dropped her own prop purse at the woman’s feet and then excused herself before bending over to pick up the contents. The target woman also bent down to help retrieve the spilled articles. That’s when Rob took the opportunity to unsnap the clasp on the woman’s purse and stick his hand inside. He didn’t feel a wallet, but what he did feel sent shivers up his spine. It was a small revolver, no doubt about it.

  His goose bumps got goose bumps of their own when he felt the cold steel in his ear and heard the familiar sound of a cylinder rotating into place and a hammer being cocked. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man who was holding the gun in his ear. Rob slowly eased himself upright and froze in that position.

  “That’s a wise move,” I said. “Now pull your hand out of that purse and turn around.” I glanced at Gloria. “Hang on to that one, too. She’s in on this play, you can bet on it.”

  Gloria Cooper followed her husband’s advice and clamped a hand on Eileen’s wrist, holding on tight. Eileen gave a nervous smile and then looked at Rob with a what-the-hell look of her own. Rob shrugged.

  “Over here,” I said, urging the two pickpockets up against the wall of the building where I had my office. I was still holding the gun on the two criminals but managed to pull out my shield and I.D. and show it to the man who’d seconds earlier had his hand in my wife’s purse.

  Rob looked at the I.D. and badge and said, “Elliott Cooper. Great, a private detective. Just what I need.”

  Gloria did the same and showed Eileen her credentials. Eilee
n looked at Rob again with dagger eyes. “You idiot,” Eileen said. “You had to stop and see the famous Marlowe playgrounds, didn’t you?”

  I snickered and looked at Gloria. “Tourists,” I said. “Out-of-towners and they picked this spot of all spots to pick pockets. I think they call that…”

  “Karma,” Eileen said, finishing my sentence.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Karma. Let’s go. I have a police lieutenant I’d like you both to meet.”

  Rob held up one hand. “Surely we can talk about this,” he said. “I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement that could benefit us both.”

  Gloria shot me a quick glance. I knew exactly what she was thinking. Just this morning over coffee up in our office we’d discussed our latest case and wondered how we were going to get the object we needed to wrap up the case and turn it over to our client. Maybe a couple of pickpockets were just what we needed. I hoped they’d do a better job with our target than they did with Gloria.

  “Maybe there is something you could do,” I said. “How about if we all go up to my office and discuss it like adults?”

  Rob’s eyes got wide. “Really?” he said. “You have an office in this building and you’re a private eye? What are the odds?”

  “The odds of what?” I said.

  “The odds of having a private eye office in a building on Hollywood and Cahuenga,” Rob said. “This is where Philip Marlowe plied his trade, you know.”

  “Really?” I said. “Isn’t that a coincidence? Come on, let’s finish this discussion upstairs.”

  Eileen shot Rob a look and said sarcastically, “See, Rob, even a real private eye doesn’t care about your stupid Philip Marlowe trivia.”

  Gloria and I walked along behind the two pickpockets toward the elevator. The four of us rode to the third floor and then walked to the end of the hall. Gloria kept an eye on our guests while I unlocked the office and let them in.

  I gestured toward the leather sofa that sat against the far wall. “Have a seat,” I said. “Make yourselves at home.”

  “I’d feel more at home if I didn’t have a gun pointed in my direction,” Rob said.

  Gloria returned her revolver to her purse and I slipped my .38 back into its holster under my arm. “Is that better?” I said.

  Eileen let out a long sigh. “Much better,” she said.

  Gloria opened the half-size refrigerator that sat next to our sink and pulled out the last two cans of beer. She grabbed the plastic six-pack holder, dangling the cans from the end of it and passed them over to her guests. Rob and Eileen each took a can, ripping it from the plastic holder.

  I motioned to my two guests, curled my fingers toward myself and said, “All right, break out some identification, both of you.”

  Rob leaned over on the couch, dug his wallet out of his hip pocket and flipped it open to his driver’s license. He held it up for me to see.

  “Let me have a look at that,” I said.

  Rob complied and Eileen did the same with her wallet, handing it to Gloria. We both looked over the licenses and compared the photos with the people sitting in front of us. Gloria handed me Eileen’s wallet and I set it on my desk along with Rob’s wallet.

  “Okay,” I said. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

  Rob cleared his throat. “Well,” Rob said, “I was thinking that maybe the two of you could use a little extra spending money. I mean, who doesn’t these days, you know? Anyway, I was thinking that perhaps Eileen and I could maybe make a charitable contribution to the private eye retirement fund and in return you could just let us walk out of here. Whaddya say?”

  Eileen looked at Gloria and then gestured toward Rob. “What he said,” Eileen told Gloria.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Somehow it doesn’t seem like the thing to do. Don’t get me wrong, it is a tempting offer, but we really don’t need the money and retirement is another thirty years down the road for both of us.”

  “Well,” Rob said, “then what about something else that you might be able to use?”

  “Let me ask you two something,” I said. “How long have you both been in the pickpocket business?”

  Rob held both palms up toward me. “This was our first time, I swear,” he said. “We’re not very good at it and we shouldn’t have done it, but we’re broke and needed the money.”

  “If you’re broke,” I said, “how were you planning on contributing to the private eye retirement fund?”

  Rob and Eileen exchanged glances. Rob looked back at me and let out a deep breath. He bent over, reached into his sock and pulled out a folded wad of bills that could have choked a horse, if we’d had one. He noticed the odd look I was giving him. “Well,” Rob said, “You can’t expect me to keep this much money in my wallet. What if someone picked my pocket out here?” He handed me the rubber-banded wad. I laid it on my desk alongside their wallets.

  I looked at Gloria and we both had trouble suppressing a goofy grin. I looked back at Rob and said, “Well, then if you’re no good at picking pockets, I have no use for either of you. Let’s go meet my cop friend, shall we?”

  “All right,” Rob said. “You got us. This wasn’t our first time. I lied.”

  “I thought as much,” I told him. “How long have you two been picking pockets?”

  Rob looked at Eileen, who nodded. “Seventeen years, give or take a month,” Rob said. “And I wasn’t lying when I said that this was our first time. What I meant was that this is the first time we’ve ever been caught with our hand in the proverbial cookie jar, so to speak.”

  “That’s what I want to hear,” I said. “Maybe we can make some sort of deal after all.”

  “Sure,” Rob said. “You just name it.”

  Gloria stepped up in front of Rob, dragging a chair with her. She sat across from our two guests. “What we need,” Gloria said, “is someone to get the object we need to help us with a case we’ve been working on for the last two weeks. You see, we’ve just about exhausted all other avenues and we’ve used up all our standard tricks and we’re still no closer to solving this than we were a week ago.”

  “Rob smiled. “So how can we help?” he said.

  Gloria looked at the two of them but spoke to Eileen. “It’s apparent that you two work as a team,” Gloria said. “Just like Elliott and me, only we’re on this side of the law. We can’t do, nor would we want to do what we were thinking.”

  “And just what were you thinking?” Eileen said.

  “You see, it’s this way,” Gloria explained. “We can stake out, we can do surveillance, we can even tap a phone every now and then, but the object we need in this case is always carried in our subject’s wallet. That’s where you two come in.”

  “You want us to pick this guy’s pocket,” Eileen said. “Hell, we can do that.”

  “Not only do you have to pick his pocket,” I said, pulling up a chair of my own, “but you have to get the object out of it, substitute a copy and somehow get that wallet back into his pocket without him knowing he’s been picked. Can you do that?”

  “That’s a mighty tall order,” Rob said. “We’ve extracted many a wallet in our day, but I’ve never had to put one back afterwards.”

  “My question was, can you do it?” I said.

  “I don’t think we have much of a choice here,” Rob said. “We’ll do it. And you’ll forget all about our little chance meeting on the street?”

  I nodded. “We will,” I said.

  Gloria pointed her finger in Eileen’s face. “And if either of you has any ideas about scramming once you get out of this office, forget it,” she said. “We’ll hang onto your wallets and your car with everything in it. You give me the evidence I need, and I give you back your wallets and your car and you can be on your way…out of town. Deal?”

  Rob and Eileen finished the last swallows from their beer cans, set them down and nodded. “Do I get my bankroll back, too?”

  “You do,” I said.

  “Deal,” Rob said.


  I bent over and stuck my two index fingers into the openings on the two beer cans and carried them that way to my desk.

  Rob got the connotation right away. “Fingerprints?” he said.

  “That’s right,” I said, “fingerprints. Just in case those licenses you’re carrying are phony. You wouldn’t get too far on foot and once the police ran your fingerprints, you wouldn’t be any trouble to identify and find, so it would be in your best interest to just cooperate with us, get us what we need and be on your way.”

  Rob smiled. “I like the way you think,” he said. “You know, under different circumstances, we could have been friends.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I said.

  “Okay,” Eileen said, “so who’s the mark?”

  Gloria walked over to her desk, pulled a three by five photo from her desk drawer and handed it to Rob. “This is your mark, as you put it,” she said. “His name is Austin Holbrook and we’ll give you everything you need to make contact—where he lives, where he works, where he hangs out, and when. We can even tell you which pocket he keeps his wallet in and what to look for once you get the wallet. But remember, it’s very important that you put that wallet back where you found it when you’re done.”

  “Why?” Rob said. “What’s so important about him getting his wallet back?”

  “Because we want him to think he’d stolen a useless article all along,” I said. “And we don’t want him to realized that it had been switched.”

  “Well,” Rob said, “are you going to tell me what it is I’m supposed to lift?”

  I paused for a moment. “It’s a lottery ticket,” I said, handing Rob the fake substitute ticket. “This is the one we want you to put back into the wallet before you somehow get that wallet back into his pocket. And you have to do all of this before he realizes it’s gone. Our client had the foresight to copy both sides of the ticket once he realized what he had.”

  Rob turned the ticket over in his hand. “Is this some kind of big winner?” he said.

  I locked my stare onto Rob’s eyes. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “And no, you wouldn’t be able to cash it in yourself. We have the numbers recorded and copied. What you’re holding there is one of three copies of that ticket. The authorities have already been notified not to cash it for anyone else.”