by Bill Bernico
When Gloria’s television show ended she turned off the TV and sat next to me, leaning in close. “I hope I remember how to be a private eye after six years away from the job,” she said.
“It’s like falling off a bike,” I said. “You never forget how. You’ll be just fine after you’ve been there a day or two and get back into the swing of things.”
Gloria sighed. “I have to admit, I’ve missed it,” she said. “Oh, I wouldn’t have missed my time with Olivia and Matt for anything, but it’s time to get back to work. There’s only so much I can do around here before I start getting restless.”
“And it’ll be good to have you back in the office again,” I said. “Bud’s a great guy, but he’s no match for you when it comes to nooners.”
“Nooners?” Gloria said. “When did we ever have a nooner in the office?”
“Eight years ago,” I said. “It was a Friday in July and…”
“All right,” Gloria said, motioning toward the kids with her head. “No need to elaborate.”
Olivia rolled over on her side, her head resting on her hand, and looked up at me. “What’s a nooner, Daddy?” she said, her innocent face eagerly awaiting my response.
“It’s just when your mommy and I take a few minutes out of our workday to play cards,” I said.
Gloria let out the breath she’d been holding and gave me a knowing look.
“Do you win?” Olivia said.
“Almost all the time,” I said, and smiled at Gloria. “Now how about if you color another picture for me, dear?”
I called Bud the following morning and told him not to expect me in for most of the day, if at all, depending on whether or not I got what I needed on the monitor. He told me not to worry about it and that he’d see me when I finished the job. I thanked him and drove straight to Dawson Industries, parking on the street outside of the shipping department. I made myself comfortable in the back of the van, switched one of the large monitors on the shelf and settled into my padded chair to wait for Louie Beck to make his move.
Not much happened for the first hour or so. I could see what Chris was seeing, which was nothing more than trucks being loaded and unloaded at the docks, invoices being checked and crates being unpacked. It was nearly ten-thirty and I was beginning to wonder if Louie had lost his libido. Then I heard him before I saw him. A male voice came from somewhere off camera, speaking in a low, throaty tone.
Chris turned her head and a man came into view on my screen. His eyes followed the contours of Chris’s body and his hand went to her shoulder. Chris looked down at his hand, capturing the sequence on video for me. She looked back at Louie and he removed his hand again.
“You look all tense,” Louie said. “How about if you let me massage your shoulders? It would do you a world of good.”
“I don’t think so,” Chris’s voice said into the hidden microphone in the stem of the glasses. “Why don’t you just leave me alone, Louie?”
His hand returned to her shoulder and she looked down at it again. Chris was doing a great job of capturing all of Louie’s inappropriate moves and words. “Come on, Chris,” Louie said. “You know you want to. And I’m right here. We’re all alone. Nobody else in the whole warehouse.”
I couldn’t see Chris’s reaction, but her voice gave away her feeling of panic. “Just leave me alone, Louie,” she said. “You’re violating company policy when you do these things and I don’t like it.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Louie said. “You go to Carlson and who’s he going to believe? Someone like you with less than a year on the job, or someone like me with more than twelve years with the company? I think it would be your word against mine and Carlson couldn’t afford to lose me. So relax with the company policy talk and let’s have some fun. Whaddya say, Chris?”
“No,” Chris yelled back at him. “Get away from me.”
Louie’s hand came into the viewfinder and settled on Chris’s right breast. He gave it a squeeze as Chris focused her sights on his hand before slapping it off of her. She backed up and Louie advanced, grabbing her again. Chris reached out her right hand and slapped Louie across his face. He recoiled, holding his cheek with his hand. His face turned angry and his hand went for his belt. He pulled a box cutter out of a leather sheath and slid the blade out an inch or more.
Chris screamed as Louie lunged at her, swinging the blade back and forth in front of him. Arterial blood squirted out in front of the camera and Chris’s hands went to her throat. The scene in the monitor swirled as Chris fell to the floor. The glasses had captured the last moments of Chris’s life, ending in a crimson pool in front of her face.
I bounded out of the van and ran up to the gate leading into Dawson Industries.
The uniformed guard in the guard house stopped me. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said.
I already had my I.D. and shield up in front of me and pushed him aside. He drew his revolver and pointed it in my face. “A woman’s is dying in the shipping department,” I said, panic in my voice. “She may still be alive and we need to get to her right now. So either shoot me or put that thing away and help me.
The guard holstered his weapon and ran alongside me toward the shipping department. He used his I.D. card to open the door to the warehouse.
“Where does Chris Ellis work?” I said.
The guard pointed to the south end of the building and we both began running again. When we found Chris bleeding on the floor, the guard stopped abruptly and turned his head away.
“Call an ambulance,” I screamed at him. I knelt at Chris’s side and saw that her eyes were open. She was staring at me in disbelief. I pulled her hand off of her throat and saw the deep gash that was spurting blood. I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and pressed it to her neck wound. “Stay still,” I told her. “An ambulance is on its way. Don’t try to talk.”
It took just ten minutes for the guard to return, followed by two ambulance attendants. I stepped back and one of the attendants took over pressing the neck wound while his partner pulled out a large gauze pad. They had her neck wrapped and the bleeding stopped in a matter of seconds. The second attendant stuck a needle into Chris’s arm and started a bag of plasma dripping. They lifted her onto the gurney and hurried her out the door and into the ambulance. It sped away, its lights whirling and its siren tearing a hole in the night air.
I looked at the guard and pointed in the direction where I’d seen a partial bloody footprint. “Where does that go?” I said.
“The receiving dock,” the guard said.
I pulled my .38 out and told the guard to take his gun out also. “Follow me,” I told him. I followed the small red splotch stains until they faded away to almost nothing. I turned to the guard. “Where does Louie Beck work?”
The guard pointed with the barrel of his revolver down a corridor. “Last office on the left,” he said.
“Let’s go,” I told him. The two of us stood on either side of the office door and listened. I could hear running water coming from inside. I nodded to the guard and then turned the door knob, pushing the door open. We eased into the room and saw another door standing open. I quietly stepped up to it and peered inside. A man was washing his hands at the sink. The water running down the drain was bright red. I pointed my gun at him. “Stand still right there,” I said.
He looked up and caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. He spun around, blood still dripping from his hands. His eyes went this way and that, looking for an exit, but I was blocking his only way out.
“Hands on your head,” I said. “And turn around.” Louie Beck complied. I turned to the guard. “Keep him covered while I cuff him.” I snapped the cuffs on his wrists and spun him around to face me. “Not so tough now, are you? It’s a little different when you’re facing someone who can defend themselves, isn’t it, you low life maggot. If Chris dies, I’ll personally see that you get the maximum.”
“What are you talking about?” Louie said
. “I didn’t do anything. Chris fell on her own box cutter. I was trying to help her.”
“You sure you want to stick with that story, Beck?” I said. “Try again. I’ve got the whole thing on video. You harassed Chris, made inappropriate comments, grabbed and fondled her and when she slapped you, you slashed her with your box cutter. Did I leave anything out?”
“Now how would you know something like that?” Louie said. “We were the only two people in the warehouse at the time of her unfortunate accident.”
“I was there, too, Louie,” I said. “Only I was watching from my surveillance monitor outside. Chris was wearing safety glasses with a built-in camera and everything you did was captured on video. So, for your own sake, I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut until you talk to your lawyer. Not that he’ll be able to save your sorry ass. When the jury sees the video, it’ll be all over for you.”
“But I,” Louie started to say.
“Save it, Louie,” I said. “When you get to prison, you’ll find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your brand of harassment. And those guys won’t take no for an answer. In no time at all you’re going to be somebody’s personal bitch. If you want my advice, I’d suggest you learn to walk around with your butt cheeks clenched up—permanently.”
Lieutenant Eric Anderson appeared behind be, flanked up by two uniformed officers. I turned Louie Beck over to Eric and told him I had all the evidence he’d need in my van. He told me to drive the van to the twelfth precinct and that he’d meet me there. I pulled up behind the precinct and walked into the building with a jump drive in my pocket that held the video of the entire incident. I kept a copy for my files and gave the jump drive to Eric.
“It’s all on there,” I told him. “Right up to the point where he slashed her with his box cutter.” I explained how I’d set Chris up with the surveillance glasses. “Save those glasses,” I said. “They’re evidence.” I gave Eric my statement and I was out of there in an hour.
I left the twelfth precinct and drove to the hospital to check on Chris. I stopped at the front desk and asked about Christine Ellis’s condition. The nurse looked at her clipboard and ran her finger down the column.
She looked up at me said, “I’ll have the doctor come out and see you when he’s free.”
“Can’t you just tell me if she’s going to be all right?” I said.
“I’m sure the doctor will answer any questions you have regarding Miss Ellis,” she said. “You can have a seat in the waiting room if you like.”
I gave up trying to reason with the woman in white and took a seat in the next room. After twenty minutes of flipping the pages of two-month-old magazines the door opened and a doctor in green scrubs entered. I stood and immediately stepped up to him. “How’s Chris doing, doctor?” I said. “Is she going to be all right?”
“And who are you?” the doctor said. “Are you family?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I was a witness to what happened to her and I need to know how she’s doing.”
“She lost an awful lot of blood,” the doctor explained. “We did everything we could for her.”
“You mean she’s…?” I said.
“Oh no,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry if I left you with that impression. She’s weak but with a transfusion and lots of rest, she should pull through.
I let out a deep breath and sat back down again. “Thank goodness,” I said.
“It’s just by the skin of her teeth that she made it,” the doctor explained. “Whoever pressed that handkerchief to her neck saved her life. She would have bled out in just another minute or so.”
I stood up again and grabbed the doctor’s hand. “Thank you doctor,” I said. “Thank you so much.” I turned away and wiped the corner of my eye. I turned back to the doctor. “When can I see her?”
“She’ll be sleeping for hours,” the doctor said. “Probably best if you wait until tomorrow. You can visit then.”
“I’ll do that,” I said. “And thanks again.” I left the hospital and drove straight home.
On my way home I called Bud’s cell phone and gave him the condensed version of the day’s events.
“Is that enough excitement for you, pal?” he said.
“That’s too much,” I said. “I hope I never have to experience that kind of excitement again. Anyway, I just called to let you know you could have tomorrow off if you like. We don’t have anything scheduled and I’d just as soon have the office to myself for the day. You know, a little quiet reflection.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Bud said. “I guess I’ll see you in a couple of days then. Say hi to Gloria and the kids for me.”
I promised I would and closed my phone. Gloria was waiting for me again when I came in the kitchen. I turned to Matt and Olivia, gave them each a hug and asked them to go outside and play in the yard until supper was ready.
“What was that all about?” Gloria said. “Did you just want to get me alone and have your way with me?”
“Not exactly,” I said, “As tempting an offer as that is. No, I just didn’t want the kids to hear the details of my day.”
“Do I want to hear them?” Gloria said.
“I think you will,” I said. “Especially the last part.” I told her the entire story, concluding with Chris’s close brush with death.
“The poor thing,” Gloria said. “You’re going to visit with her tomorrow, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll stop there before I go to work tomorrow.”
“Well, give her my best and tell her we’ll be thinking of her,” Gloria said. “I guess the kids can come back in now, don’t you?”
“You mean you don’t want to be ravaged by me?” I said.
Gloria winked. “After the kids are in bed,” she said.
I looked out the window at the sky and then turned back to Gloria. “Looks like it’s going to be dark soon. Bedtime may come early tonight.”
Gloria began humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar.
“What’s that you’re humming?” I said. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Oh,” Gloria said, “I forgot to tell you. Bud called earlier and wanted to know if I’d like to be the first one to hear his crude recording of that song he wrote. It’s actually kind of catchy.”
“And what made you think of that song at this particular time?” I said. “Here I am setting the mood for later and you start humming Bud’s song.”
“Well,” Gloria said. “You made me think of it with all this talk about later.”
“How’s that?” I said.
“Bud’s tune,” Gloria explained. “The title was “I’ll Meet You In The Bedroom In My Underwear.”
“I get it,” I said.
“Not often enough,” Gloria said, “But you will tonight.”
115 - That’s A Stretch
My twelve-year-old son, Matt knelt at Daisy’s side, stroking her head and talking to her in a soothing tone. Every so often Daisy’s tail would slap against the floor. Her breathing was getting shallow and her eyes were clouding over. She was seventeen years old and had lasted much longer than anyone would have thought. I got her from a police officer in the L.A.P.D. K-9 unit several years ago when they retired her from active duty. She was almost twelve then and her handler and partner had recently gotten a new German Shepherd to replace Daisy.
In the six years since we’ve had Daisy, she’s become one of the family, sleeping at the foot of Matt’s bed and lying under his feet at the dining room table, hoping for an occasional scrap of food. Our daughter Olivia was born about the same time we acquired Daisy and she grew up knowing the dog’s gentle touch and loving ways. My wife, Gloria initially had reservations about taking in a former police dog, what with her concerns for her young son and newborn daughter. It took her less than a week to become totally attached to Daisy and the two became constant companions.
I squatted down next to Matt, petting Daisy’s head. I turned to Matt. “She’
s had a good life here with us,” I said. “But I think you’re old enough to realize that Daisy is just about at the end of her life. And what we have to think about now is whether or not she’s suffering, even though she doesn’t show it or make any sounds to let us know how she’s feeling. I also think that you’re becoming a responsible young man who would want to do what’s best for Daisy. You remember what the vet told us last week, don’t you?”
Matt looked up at me, his eyes welled up with tears. “I know, Dad,” he said. “But I just can’t let her go. I don’t know how I’d get along without her here with me.”
“Matt,” I said, “Daisy has some growths inside of her. Even if you can’t see them, they are causing her to bleed inside and the vet told me that he can’t understand why Daisy hasn’t complained yet. It has to be painful for her to even walk. That’s why she lays around all the time. It’s about all she can do. Son, we have to think about letting her go. It’s not fair to her to let her suffer. She’s always been there for you and now you have to be there for her.”
Matt bent over and almost laid on top of his best friend. Daisy let out a yelp and squirmed. Matt sat back up quickly and his eyes got wide. He looked at me and nodded. Then he ran to his room and closed the door behind him. I could hear him sobbing from where I squatted next to Daisy. My throat was closing up, too. From the kitchen I could hear Gloria sniffing while she prepared our supper. I got up and joined her at the sink.
“You know we have to do it,” I said.
“I know,” Gloria said in a faint voice. “But I don’t want to be the one to have to take her in for the last time.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “And I was thinking that maybe Matt could come along with me. It might be good for him to see how peacefully Daisy slips away. It’ll also educate him on one of the facts of owning a pet. It might even be the closure he needs to let her go.”
