Carter turned on me, too. "Yeah, Nick. What gives?"
I said, "Sit down, both of you, and I'll explain."
. . .
Later that afternoon, Carter and I went to pick up the Halloween costumes we'd rented a few weeks earlier. We didn't know that we'd be hosting a party. We just wanted to have something to wear wherever we ended up out that night.
Carter was going as Count Dracula. The costume store even had a set of fangs for him to wear. We also bought a kit of makeup to whiten his skin and add a trail of blood from his mouth. I was going as the Lone Ranger. Carter suggested we go out and find a hobby-horse for me to carry around and call it Trigger. I nixed that idea.
. . .
About the time we'd rented the costumes, Carter suggested we have a date night on the Friday before Halloween. And he wanted to do something special. And organize it himself.
We pulled into the driveway on Friday, around 6:30. There were the usual noises coming from the garage. I ignored them as we walked up the steps. Carter unlocked the door and we found ourselves in a wonderland of orange and black. The sitting room, the dining room, and the kitchen had all been decked out with crepe paper and wispy spider webs. Strings of orange Chinese lanterns crisscrossed the sitting room. All of the furniture had been removed. All that remained downstairs was the dining room table and the kitchen table. There were straight-back chairs lined up against two walls in the dining room. Otherwise, there was maximal room for mingling. I wondered how many people had been invited to this shindig.
As we walked upstairs, I heard a voice down in the basement yell out, "I'll get you my pretty! And your little dog, too!" This was followed by a maniacal laugh. It was obviously from The Wizard of Oz. Another voice said, "OK. Try it one more time." The recording played again. I sighed. This could get boring quickly.
After we had cleaned up, Carter brought out our tuxedo jackets and pants from the middle bedroom where we kept the clothes we didn't always wear. They were hanging next to the warm weather clothes we'd picked up in Mexico and Georgia.
"Black tie?" I asked.
Carter nodded. "Yes, sir. Only the best for my Boss."
I smiled and started getting dressed.
. . .
I had no idea where we were going. Carter drove the car up the intersection of Castro and Market Streets. He turned right on Market. Following through the slow-moving Friday evening traffic, he continued to Van Ness where he turned left. We drove up to Broadway and turned right.
As we approached the tunnel, I thought about my sister Janet. She had been driving the other direction and crashed at the corner of Polk Street back in May. It turned out the transmission of her car had been tampered with. She died the same day.
As we drove past Polk, Carter reached over and took my left hand in his right and squeezed.
Once we emerged at the other end of the tunnel, the tears had stopped. I had been avoiding this street because of the memories. I pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket and wiped my face. As we waited at the light at Columbus, I reached over and wiped off Carter's face, as well.
At Montgomery, Carter turned right. I realized where we were going: Ernie's.
Carter pulled up in front of the legendary restaurant that dated back to the Barbary Coast and had recently gotten a facelift. The kid at the curb took the keys from Carter and sped off. We walked through the front door and into a dream of flocked red wallpaper, antiques of all sorts, and the smell of something delicious.
. . .
The next morning I couldn't remember what we ate or when we left. The whole evening was a wonderful blur. We drank a lot of champagne, which was obvious when I woke up a little hungover.
I looked over at Carter, who was already awake. He smiled and I returned the gesture. He ran his hand through my hair and asked, "Are you ready for the big day?"
I groaned and said, "Not really. Are they here yet? What time is it?"
Carter kissed me and said, "Time for your shower and for a trip to Mildred's."
I nodded. I needed grease. I could tell.
. . .
For some reason, Carter wasn't feeling as bad as me. He was moving slowly, which was a sure sign. But he didn't seem to be affected by things like the sun and the sound of a car door closing.
He drove over to Van Ness to our old hang-out. Mildred's was a diner we frequented before we moved into our little house in Eureka Valley. Now that it wasn't as close, we didn't go as often.
As Carter opened the door, I heard Mildred say, "Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Several people turned and stared for a moment before turning back to their plates and newspapers.
Mildred said, "Your usual spot is open." She looked at me for a moment before saying, "Two coffees and two waters. Comin' right up!"
Mildred was a thin woman with a big Texas personality. We didn't know much about her past other than she'd been married a few times and had come to San Francisco during the Dust Bowl.
Our usual spot was a table for two all the way in the back and near the kitchen. We headed back that way, with Mildred right behind us. She was moving fast, as always, while Carter was being polite and moving slow with me.
"I'll wait to catch up with you fellas until you have some food in you. Slim, you look bad. Hope it was fun, whatever it was. Don't worry about ordering, I'll get you just what you need."
I nodded and tried to smile as we both sat down. She quietly put the cups down and quickly walked into the kitchen. I heard her call out, "Two lumberjacks, with three fried each, and two sides of bacon. Make 'em chewy, Joe."
. . .
After we'd eaten, I was feeling a lot better. All that grease helped. As did the flapjacks and maple syrup.
Mildred came by with a pot of coffee to top us both off. "So, how's life been for you fellas? Seems like a month of Sundays since I laid eyes on either of you."
Carter nodded. He said, "We've been kinda busy, Mildred. Sorry we haven't been over in a while."
"Busy?" She laughed. Looking at me, she said, "You keep that George Hearst on his toes, and you'll eat free here anytime you come in. Patty knows."
An older woman with red hair walked by right then. "Oh, sure." She had a thick New York accent. "When you guys was first in the papers, that was all Mildred talked about." She bustled over to the counter.
Mildred said, "Look. You know me. Live and let live, that's what I've always said. Helps when you grow up on a ranch. Not every bull wants a heifer. But, boy howdy, it seems like every time I open a newspaper there you are."
I laughed. "I stopped reading the papers last summer."
"And, I don't blame you." She put the coffee pot on the table, grabbed a chair from a nearby table, and sat down between us. In a lower voice, she asked, "But, seriously, Slim. Are you doing OK?"
I nodded. "Sure. We're fine. You know how it is with money. Takes care of a lotta problems."
"Course it does. Now, when I first met you fellas, I had no idea what kinda money you had. But, the reason I ask is because someone from the F.B.I. was asking about you both a few weeks ago."
Carter said, "Really?"
"He sure was, Red."
Patty walked by right then. Mildred asked, "Patty, when did that g-man come in here askin' 'bout these two?"
"Two weeks ago. Friday, the 16th." She bustled on into the kitchen.
"Patty don't forget nothin'. Yeah, so it was a Friday. I remember. Joe had put liver on the special and we forgot to include a fish and you know how those Catholics are with their Friday fish. Not that I give much attention to such things, but what a racket we got from some of the regulars. Sheesh!"
Carter asked, "What was he askin'?"
"What was who askin', Red? Oh! The g-man." She stopped to take a breath. "He was askin' about your habits, who you knew, that sorta thing. I just told him to read the goddam Examiner if he wanted to know anything, if you'll pardon my French. I don't pry into my customer's lives."
I said, "If anyone comes around again,
could you give me a call?" I handed her a Consolidated Security card from my wallet.
"Sure, Slim. Happy to. None of anyone's business, that's what I say." She stood up. "Well, you both look like you're gonna live. Glad you came by but don't be such strangers!"
Carter and I both nodded. He said, "We won't. We promise."
"Well, that's as good as gold where I'm concerned." Just then there was a crash and a commotion. She looked out over the cafe. "Oh, lordy. Gotta run. The little one at table six just dumped the sugar bowl on the floor." And with that, she was gone.
Chapter 6
137 Hartford Street
Saturday, October 31, 1953
A quarter past 5 in the afternoon
The doorbell rang. As I was walking to the door to answer it, Joe shot past me and said, "It's the food!" over his shoulder.
I took a deep breath and sighed. I stood back and watched a small parade of various costumed persons walk in with platters of all sorts: cold cuts, olives, smoked salmon, oysters, wieners, frosted cookies, and more.
I walked towards the door to close it and saw a tall man dressed as a court jester walking up the steps. He had a big jack-o-lantern in his arms and asked me, "Where do you want it?"
The obvious spot was just to the left of the steps on the porch, so I pointed there. He carefully set it down and then walked back down to the steps and out to a paneled van that was parked up on the sidewalk and just behind the Buick. I walked down the steps to take it all in.
Someone had hung several strings of orange pumpkin lights across the front of the house. A fake witch looked down on the incoming guests from the front bedroom. She was holding a broom in one hand and was pointing a bony finger towards onlookers with the other. I had to admit all this decorating was top notch. I'd never really seen anything like it.
As I walked back up the steps, I looked at the jack-o-lantern. At first, I was just going to walk by until I realized that whoever carved it had given it a very unusual face. It looked perplexed. It wasn't funny or comical. It wasn't scary. It was perplexed. It was a perplexed pumpkin. I couldn't help but laugh. I felt an odd sort of affection for the poor thing.
Carter appeared in the doorway at that moment and said, "You won't believe it, Nick."
"What?"
"Marnie just called. Her mother fell down the steps of their house and they've been at the hospital all afternoon. Neither of them will be coming."
"Everything OK with them? Do they need anything?"
"No. She said it was just a small strain and her mother will be fine after a few days of bed rest."
I shook my head. "Poor Marnie. How do you keep a force of nature like Mrs. Wilson in bed?"
Carter laughed. "Oh," he said. "Evelyn called right after I got off the phone with Marnie. She said that Roberta is missing."
I shook my head. This wasn't what I was expecting.
. . .
I walked over to check on Evelyn, who was all dressed and ready to go. I asked her to come on over. Now I understood her haircut. She was dressed as Peter Pan. And she looked just the part, too.
Evelyn was impressed by the decorations and said so. We were looking at a brewing witch's cauldron in the dining room when I heard someone call from the front door, "Yoo hoo!"
We turned around and saw Roberta. Evelyn asked, "Where have you been?" She sounded guarded even though I knew she was upset.
"Oh, sweety, I had to run a quick errand. Didn't you see my note?"
The two met in the middle of the sitting room and embraced. I watched Roberta's closed face over Evelyn's shoulder and wondered what was going on her feverish mind.
As they parted, I saw that Roberta was wearing a very tight, sexy witch costume. A small pointy black hat was pinned to her massive head of red curls. Her voluptuous bosom was highlighted by a tight black satin blouse. A billowy multi-layered skirt accentuated an exaggerated hourglass figure. On her feet, she wore pointed black patent shoes with a low heel.
Looking at me, she turned her head to one side, and asked, "How are you, Nick?"
"Fine, Roberta. How are you?"
She squeezed her chest together and squealed. "I'm so excited! I love Halloween!"
Evelyn laughed and blushed. I, however, couldn't bring myself to smile, so I walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat.
I found Diane hovering over the food platters along with two persons of indeterminate sex, both dressed as ghouls. She wasn't in costume yet. I figured she was just dropping off the food before anyone arrived. The three of them were discussing whether Diane's famous deviled eggs were appropriate.
Diane said, "They are deviled, after all."
The first ghoul clucked its tongue. "It's not really the theme we had in mind."
The second ghoul nodded slowly. "Yes, we want to bring a certain air to the evening. And, your eggs with their cute little penguins on a raft, are a trifle too clever for the ensemble. They don't have the kind of gravity that we intend to bring to the table, if you will."
I had watched this from the phone alcove. I said, "I like Diane's deviled eggs. You should try one."
The second ghoul slowly shook its head. "Oh, no. I'm eating only celery this week. And coffee. I'm on the Miller diet. Eggs are absolutely forbidden!"
I replied, "Your loss."
The first ghoul asked, "And who are you? Another neighbor, perhaps?"
I laughed. "Yes. A neighbor and the host."
The second ghoul drew back. "But, I thought this party was being hosted by Mr. Miccelli."
I shook my head. "I don't know who this Mr. Miccelli is, but I'm Nick Williams, and this is my house."
The first ghoul said, "Oh my! Mr. Williams! What an honor it is to meet you." It stuck out a bony hand which I shook. I was pretty sure that both of these ghouls were guys, but I wasn't positive.
The first ghoul continued, "Mr. Joseph Miccelli is the man who hired us to cater this event." I figured Miccelli must be Joe's last name. Made sense.
The ghoul looked around uncertainly. "Of course, I didn't realize that the affair would be in Eureka Valley. Such a quaint little neighborhood. Of course, this must just be one of your many homes, I'm sure."
I shook my head. "Nope. This is it. Now, can we let my friend Diane leave her deviled eggs so I can show her the rest of the house?"
The second ghoul carefully took the platter from Diane and solemnly placed it on the counter. "Would you mind, perhaps, if I made a few changes to your garnish?"
Diane, whose mouth had been open through this entire conversation, said simply, "Sure."
I took her arm and gently led her into the sitting room. She leaned over and said, "I thought this was gonna be a small party, Nick."
"You and me both. Say, can I come over and make a phone call from your house? There's something I need to take care of and I can't do it here."
"Sure, Nick."
. . .
Around 7, I went upstairs and found Carter. He was getting dressed in his Count Dracula get-up. His back was to the door as I walked in. I noticed the black pants were very tight.
"Can you fit into that, Chief?"
He wiggled his hips at me. "Tight, isn't it?"
I said, "It is. Turn around."
He slowly made a semi-circle. When he was facing me, I looked down and almost bust out laughing.
"What?"
"Well, I'll say this. Those pants don't hide a damn thing. You look like one of the Flying Wallenda Brothers."
He smiled down at me. "Is that a good thing?"
"For me, it's great. Up to you."
He wiggled his hips at me again. "I like it."
I smiled in appreciation. "Me, too, Chief. Me, too."
. . .
Once we were dressed, I told Carter I would meet him downstairs. While he clodded down the stairs with his cape billowing behind him, I ducked into the middle bedroom. Although there was a double bed in that room, we mostly used it for overflow storage. In front of the bureau, I knelt on my ri
ght knee, making a slight jingle with the spurs attached to the black boot on my right foot. Opening the bottom drawer, I put my hand in between the sheets we kept there and pulled out a silver Colt Peacemaker. It was engraved in the style of the 1890s and had an ivory handle.
Removing the fake gun that came with my costume, I put the Colt in the holster. It was another of the many curious things I had inherited from my Uncle Paul.
Earlier in the day, I had checked it over and loaded it. It was a convenient coincidence that I had decided on a Lone Ranger costume so many weeks earlier. But I would have found a way to be packing, no matter what costume I was wearing. I had a feeling I would need a gun before the night was over.
Chapter 7
137 Hartford Street
Saturday, October 31, 1953
Just before 8 in the evening
The party was set to start at 8, but I noticed a few folks were coming in early. The music on the hi-fi was already playing. I saw that Joe had someone standing by to play the records and keep anyone from trying to play their own. The music was ethereal and a little spooky. I had no idea you could buy such a thing, but it created a haunting atmosphere.
Roberta had, for reasons best known to herself, set up a small station at the front door where guests were welcomed. Once I realized this was happening, I decided to stand just behind Roberta in a place where she couldn't see me. I had a Martini in my hand and was pretending to sip it.
A person dressed as an ugly goblin walked in the door. Roberta asked, "Are you a ghoul or a ghost?"
The person laughed and replied, "A ghoul, of course." Roberta handed this person a black licorice lollipop that was in the shape of a magic wand with a star on top and said, "Use this to command and your wish will be granted!" She said that phrase very dramatically, and the goblin, who was very obviously not a ghoul, just laughed and walked in.
The next person to walk in was Dawson. His swagger combined with his broad chest and short stature made him stand out even in a Count Dracula costume. He even had fangs just like Carter.
The Perplexed Pumpkin (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 5) Page 3
