by Bill Bernico
“Maybe it happened too late in the day to make that edition,” Rose suggested. “Try the ninth.”
Elliott forwarded the search into the following day and found a small article on page seven about a two-car accident on the corner of Western Avenue and Melrose Boulevard. He and Rose both read every word in that article without finding any mention of a woman named Lila.
Rose pointed to the bottom of the article. “It says the article is continued on page twenty-three.”
Elliott advanced the spool to page twenty-three and stopped. The article continued by saying that the driver of the first car, a man named Douglas Hyde, 48, was killed in the impact with another car driven by one Florence Graham, 37, who escaped with minor injuries. The article went on to say that it was the Hyde car that collided with the Graham car, pushing it up onto the sidewalk and pinning Lila Fredricks, 22, between the car and a city mailbox.
Rose leaned back in her chair, pushed the glasses off her nose and rubbed her eyes. She settled the glasses back on her nose again and asked, “Does it say what became of Lila Fredricks?” She leaned in toward the newspaper article.
Elliott read the article to the end, made a few notes on his notepad and turned to Rose. “This article doesn’t have that information,” he told her. “I’ll keep checking for the next couple of days. Maybe there was a follow-up article about her. He advanced the film to the next day, scanned every page and found nothing. Three days after the accident and two days after the initial article, Elliott found a small, one paragraph article about Lila Fredricks. He read it and turned to Rose.
“Says here that her right leg had been damaged beyond repair and that doctors had to amputate it below the knee,” Elliott explained.
“The poor thing,” Rose said. “But she lived?”
“She must have,” Elliott said. “It didn’t say anything about her dying.”
Rose looked at the micro phish machine again. “Would you be able to find her obituary if and when she died?”
Elliott shook his head. “That could take weeks, even months with this gadget,” he said. “I have a better idea. How about we go back up front desk and ask to use one of the library’s Internet computers? It’s a lot quicker and easier.”
“Then why didn’t we use the computer for the newspaper article,” Rose asked.
“They didn’t start using computers to store newspaper back issues until much later,” Elliott said. “And my guess is that with the newspapers that go back fifty years and more that they just decided to leave them on micro phish until they could come up with a quick and easy way to transfer them. Besides, they probably figured not too many people would be looking that far back.”
Once they were seated at one of the library’s Internet computers, Elliott punched in a few key words like obituary, Los Angeles and Lila Fredricks. He got no hits at all and decided to simplify the search. He left out the obituary part of the search and hit Enter again. This time he got one hit on Lila Fredrick’s name. It was a wedding announcement dated November 16, 1952. It showed a picture of a young couple smiling. The man was wearing a tuxedo and the woman, apparently Lila Fredricks, was wearing a wedding dress. The caption below the picture identified the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Dale Lindstrom.
“Bingo,” Elliott said, turning to Rose. “Lila Fredricks is now Lila Lindstrom. Now we can broaden our search again.”
Rose’s eyes got wide. “That Internet is certainly a marvelous tool, isn’t it?”
“You bet,” Elliott agreed and then typed Dale Lindstrom into the search engine. Dale’s name came up with a date of March 19, 2004. It was his obituary and it listed his wife of fifty-two years, Lila among his survivors. Elliott turned to Rose. “We’re getting closer.” This time Elliott typed Lila Lindstrom into the search engine and got several hits, among them a recent article about an elderly woman who had staved off a mugger with a long hat pin. She became the media darling that whole week and there was even a picture accompanying the article, which said that Mrs. Lindstrom was still spry and active and still living at home.
Rose got up from her chair and patted Elliott on the back. “I’ll be right back,” she told him and walked away. Elliott figured she’d gone for a bathroom break, but instead, Rose returned with a fat Los Angeles phone book, laid it in front of Elliott and turned to the L section. “There, see if she or Dale is still listed.”
“That was a good idea, Pepper,” Elliott said.
“You’re not doing too shabby yourself, Phil,” she replied.
Elliott flipped a few pages and finally came to a short list of Lindstroms. He ran his finger down the page and stopped on Dale Lindstrom with a Glendale address. “That’s got to be her,” Elliott said. “You up for a trip to Glendale, Ms Anderson?”
“You talkin’ to Rose or Pepper Anderson?” Rose said.
“Both of you,” Elliott replied. “Come on; let’s go see if Lila still lives at that address.”
It was a small, unassuming cottage-type house on Palmer Avenue, set back from the street thirty feet or so. The small yard was well kept and there was one gray trash can sitting at the curb. Elliott helped Rose out of the car and the two of them stepped up the walk to the front door. Elliott rang the bell and waited. He could hear faint noises coming from inside but figured if Lila was in there that it could take her a while to answer the door. He waited patiently until the door finally opened and he found himself looking in at a woman creeping up on ninety.
“Yes,” the old woman said in a frail voice.
“Excuse me,” Elliott told the woman. He held out his badge and I.D. card in the leather case so she could see it. “My name is Elliott Cooper and this is Rose Anderson.” He gestured toward Rose, who nodded politely. “We were wondering if we could talk to you for a few minutes. It won’t take long, I promise.”
“What’s this all about?” the woman said.
“Is your name Lila Lindstrom?” Rose said.
The woman nodded.
“Was your name originally Lila Fredricks?” Rose asked.
“Now how would you know that?” Lila said.
Elliott let out a deep breath. “So, it is you. I’m so glad to meet you. Could we have just a few minutes of your time, please?”
Lila opened her front door and invited the two strangers inside. She gestured toward the living room and invited her guests to make themselves comfortable. “Can I get you anything?” Lila said. “Coffee, lemonade, water?”
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Elliott said and turned to Rose.
Rose looked up at Lila. “Lemonade sounds good, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Lila said. “I made a fresh pitcher this morning. I’ll be right back.” She returned in a minute or two carrying a tray with three glasses. Elliott noticed that she had a slight limp. She set the tray down on the coffee table and looked at Elliott. “In case you change your mind.” She sat on a chair next to the sofa where Elliott and Rose were sitting. “Now, what is it that brought you two to my door? No one’s called me Fredricks in nearly seventy years.”
“Lila,” Elliott said and then backed up. “May I call you Lila?”
Lila said that he could.
“Lila,” Elliott continued, “I’m a private investigator.” He gave Lila one of his cards. “I have another client who had asked us to find out how you were doing after your accident.”
“My accident?” Lila said. “What accident?”
“The accident that happened on the corner of Western and Melrose,” Elliott explained.
Lila looked puzzled. “My goodness,” she said. “That happened so long ago. Why are you just now getting around to asking about me?”
Without mentioning Conrad Jenkins by name, Elliott explained that an old gentleman came to see Matt about looking for a woman who had been involved in an automobile accident. “Lila,” Elliott explained, “I’m afraid this gentleman is getting up in years and isn’t thinking straight these days. He’s under the impression that this accident happened j
ust last week and his granddaughter suggested we go on letting him think that. I’m afraid he’s dying and she wanted him to go out with the satisfaction of finding out whatever became of you.”
Lila picked up Elliott’s card and looked at it again. “Who is this Matt that you mentioned?”
“Matt’s my son,” Elliott told her. “Why?”
“That’s a name I haven’t thought about since the accident,” Lila said. “He was a private eye, too and he came to see me about a week after the accident. My boyfriend hired him to see if he could turn up any witnesses to the accident. The driver who caused the accident died there on the corner and this other Matt, come to think of it, his name was Cooper, too. Is he related to you?”
“Matt Cooper was my grandfather,” Elliott explained. “I named my son after him. Please go on with your story.”
“Like I said,” Lila continued, “My boyfriend hired that other Matt Cooper to try to find any witnesses to the accident and he did because that dead driver’s insurance company finally agreed to pay all of my hospital bills and they even gave me a huge settlement for my leg.”
“This boyfriend,” Rose said, leaning in toward Lila. “Do you remember his name?”
“How could I forget?” Lila said. “We went out for six months up until the accident. After I was released from the hospital, he still came to see me for a while but then he stopped coming around and I lost track of him. I guess he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with a cripple.”
“And what did you say his name was?” Rose asked.
Lila smiled, remembering those days so long ago. “His name was Conrad,” she said. “Conrad…”
“Conrad Jenkins?” Elliott said, finishing Lila’s words.
Lila’s eye got wide. “How did you know?” she said.
Elliott and Rose exchanged glances. Rose nodded and so did Elliott. Elliott turned back to Lila. “Because he’s the old gentleman I was telling you about.”
Lila’s eyes welled up and soon tears were running down her cheeks. Rose pulled a delicate hanky from her sleeve and handed it to Lila, who dabbed at her eyes with it and returned it to Rose. She looked at Elliott again and in a squeaky voice managed to say, “Do you think I could meet with him again?”
“I think he’d like that,” Rose said and then turned to Elliott. “Don’t you?”
Elliott nodded. “I just bet he would.” Then a thought occurred to him. “You remember I explained that this gentleman wasn’t given much more time to live? Well, I don’t like to rush matters like this, but time is at a premium in this case. Would you be available to meet with him today, Lila?”
Lila laid a hand on her chest. “Really?” she said. “Do you suppose I could?”
“I could call my son, Matt and have him drive Conrad here to your house, if that would make things easier for you,” Elliott told her. She thought about it. “Or I could take you to him, if you prefer.”
“Please call your son,” Lila said. “Ask him if he wouldn’t mind driving Conrad here. I don’t get around too fast, especially these days.” She looked around the room. “Oh my, I’ll have to straighten up a little.”
“It looks fine,” Elliott assured her.
Lila and Rose looked at each other and giggled like school girls.
Elliott rose from the sofa and excused himself while he stepped out onto the front stoop and called Matt’s cell phone. “You’re not going to believe this,” Elliott said when Matt answered. “Rose and I found that one-legged Lila woman that Conrad Jenkins was telling you about.”
“Are you kidding me?” Matt said. “You mean she’s still alive?”
“Alive and kicking,” Elliott said, “If you can still kick with just one leg. She’s got to be ninety if she’s a day and still living in her own house. Rose is with her now. Say listen, Matt. Lila wants to know if you’d mind driving Conrad here to see her. I think they’d both get a big charge out of it.”
“I think he’s home taking his nap,” Matt said. “I’ll drive over there, pick him up and meet you in, say, half an hour? What’s the address?”
Elliott gave Matt Lila’s address and closed his phone before stepping back into the house. He found Rose and Lila in the kitchen chatting away like a couple of magpies. He waited for a break in the conversation and then jumped in. “Matt’s going to pick up Conrad and they should be here in half an hour.”
Rose grabbed Lila’s hands and gently squeezed them. “How exciting,” she said.
Lila released Rose’s grip and stepped back. “How do I look?” she asked Rose. “Is my hair all right?”
“You look just fine,” Rose said.
Matt pulled up in front of the Jenkins house and knocked on the door. Tricia Jenkins answered the door and smiled when she recognized Matt standing there. “Come in,” she told Matt.
“Tricia,” Matt said. “I have some fantastic news. Dad found the woman that Conrad was asking about. Her name is Lila Lindstrom now, but it’s the same Lila Fredricks that Conrad knew. She’d like to meet Conrad and I’ve come to take him to her.”
“That’s terrific,” Tricia said. “Just let me look in on him.”
“Don’t tell him about Lila,” Matt said. “I guess she wants to surprise him.”
She returned a minute later holding Conrad’s right hand. His left hand was wiping his eyes and scratching the back of his head. “Gramps,” Tricia said. “Matt’s here. He wants to take you for a ride.
Conrad blinked a few times and tried to focus before his eyes settled on Matt.
“Come on, Conrad,” Matt said. “I have a pleasant surprise for you. Want to take a ride?”
“Right now?” Conrad said.
“Let me get my hat first,” Conrad said and turned back toward his bedroom.
“How’s he doing?” Matt said.
Tricia shook her head. “He comes and goes,” she explained. “Sometimes he seems very alert and other times he seems confused.”
“Well, this should perk him right up,” Matt said.
“I hope so,” Tricia said. “Thanks for doing this for him and for me.”
“You know,” Matt said, “I think I’m just as excited to meet this Lila as he is.”
Conrad returned with his hat and shuffled right past Matt and Tricia and headed out the door without a word to either of them.
“I guess that means we’re going,” Matt said and followed Conrad out to Elliott’s van. He helped Conrad up into the front seat and slid behind the wheel himself. He found the Lindstrom house in Glendale in less than thirty minutes and parked at the curb. He hopped out and ran around to the other door to help Conrad step down to the sidewalk.
Lila and Rose both peeked out the curtains in time to see Conrad emerge from the van. Rose turned to Lila. “There he is,” she said. “Are you excited?”
All Lila could do was smile. Words escaped her at the moment. She took a deep breath and waited as Matt walked Conrad up the walk. A few seconds later Matt rang the doorbell and Lila opened the door wide and stared at Conrad. She invited the two men inside and closed the door again.
“What are we doing here?” Conrad said to Matt.
Elliott stepped up to where the four people had gathered. He looked at Conrad. “Conrad,” Elliott said. “You asked us to look for Lila, remember?”
“Huh?” Conrad said. “Why are we here?”
“Conrad,” Lila said. “How have you been?”
Conrad looked right at Lila without a hint of recognition and then looked at Rose. He apparently didn’t recognize Lila and didn’t remember meeting Rose, either.
“Conrad,” Lila said. “It’s Lila. Lila Fredricks.” She waited but still got no response from Conrad.
Matt laid a hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “Conrad,” he said, “Do you remember asking me to look for Lila and see how she was doing?”
Conrad turned to Matt now, still baffled. “Matt Cooper?” he said.
“Yes, that’s it,” Matt said. “Matt Cooper. Remember, I’m a pri
vate eye.”
Conrad smiled now. “Matt Cooper,” he repeated. “You don’t look the same as you did.”
Matt and Elliott exchanged glances before Elliott tried his hand at it. “Conrad, this is my son, Matt. The Matt Cooper you originally talked to was my grandfather.”
A glint of recognition played on Conrad’s face now. “Oh yeah, how’s he doing?”
“Grandpa Matt died more than twenty years ago,” Elliott explained. “Conrad, don’t you know who this is?” Elliott said, gesturing toward Lila.
Conrad smiled again. “Sure, that’s Rose.”
“No,” Elliott said, gesturing toward Rose. “This is Rose. Remember? You met her yesterday.” He gestured back toward Lila. “This is Lila—the Lila you asked us to look for.”
“Lila Fredricks,” Lila added. “Conrad it’s me.”
Conrad blinked his eyes rapidly again and rubbed at them. He turned back to Matt. “We’re having meatloaf tonight. Tricia’s making meatloaf.”
Matt looked at Lila. “I’m sorry,” he said. “His granddaughter said he’d been floating in and out of lucidity lately.”
Lila turned and walked into the kitchen. Rose followed her in, placing a hand on Lila’s shoulder. Matt and Elliott could hear her sniffling from where they stood. He turned to Conrad. “Come on, Conrad. I’d better take you home.” He looked at Elliott. “I guess I’ll talk to you later, Dad.”
Elliott joined Rose and Lila in the kitchen. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out like we hoped it might,” he told Lila.
Lila buried her head on Elliott’s chest and sighed.
Matt stopped in front of Conrad Jenkins’ house and helped him back inside. Conrad walked directly to his bedroom and closed the door. Matt turned to Tricia. “That didn’t go well,” he said. “He didn’t even recognize Lila.”
“Maybe you could try it again when he’s having a better day,” Tricia said. “I could call you when I notice that he’s acting more like himself again.”
“I suppose we could try it again,” Matt said. “That would sure make him and Lila happy. I’ll just wait for your call.” Matt let himself out and drove back to the office to wait for Elliott.
