Right then, the organ player finished his song with a flourish and the newsreel started. The first story was about Eisenhower's heart attack and its effect on the stock market. As the announcer was talking about the president's latest check-up, Carter whispered, "After we saw Henry, I went downstairs and talked to Kenneth about your trust."
"What'd he say?" I whispered back.
"Mr. Young didn't sell any stocks." Joseph Young was the manager of my trust account at Bank of America.
"Good."
"Why good?"
"I dunno. Just seems like selling in a panic isn't smart. The market'll rebound."
Carter snorted. "Who are you and what'd you do to my Nick?"
"Quiet, please!" said a man a couple of rows in front of us who was obviously on a date with the gal next to him.
Neither of us said anything through the end of the newsreel. Carter put the box of Milk Duds between his thighs and took my right hand in his left.
The cartoon was a Popeye. Bluto was pretending to be Santa Claus in order to woo Olive Oyl. A couple of minutes in, Carter whispered, "Let's go to Vermont for Christmas this year."
"You'll have to ask Ed about that. And your mother."
"I already did. That's what they want."
"Fine."
A voice hissed at us. "Would you two please be quiet?" That was the gal on the man's arm.
"Sorry, ma'am," was Carter's reply, dripping with honey.
. . .
After the movie, we walked out onto Market Street.
"Where to?" asked Carter.
"Let's just walk home."
"What about the Mercury?"
I shrugged. "We can walk to work in the morning."
"Fine by me."
With that, we made our way up the block to Taylor. The big pile of rocks we lived in on Nob Hill was on Sacramento at the corner of Taylor, so it was a straight shot uphill from there.
As we walked along, I asked, "You already talked to Ed and your mother about Christmas?"
Carter nodded. "My mother brought it up, to be honest."
"When?"
"On Sunday. After lunch."
"And you're just now telling me?"
Carter gently shoved me. "Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that, son?"
I laughed. "Not really. What'd she say?"
"That they want to host Christmas in Vermont and that Ed has it all figured out about who will stay where."
"I see." I could feel a twinge of nervousness.
As we stopped at the corner of Turk to wait for the light, Carter asked, "What?"
"How big is Ed's house?"
"I dunno. Never saw it."
The light changed and we crossed the street with a handful of other folks.
"Why'd you ask?" asked Carter as we walked by the Compton's Cafeteria on the corner.
Before replying, I glanced through the windows to see if any of our old crowd was having a late supper inside. Not recognizing anyone, I said, "Because that means we'll be staying at my mother's house."
Carter didn't reply to that. We walked the rest of the block in silence. After we crossed Eddy, I asked, "Is that why you waited a couple of days to ask me about it?"
Carter stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded.
"Did your mother already talk to my father about it?"
Carter stopped on the sidewalk and pulled me to the side and out of the way of other pedestrians. Looking down at me, he said, "Yes. And he's all for it as long as you are."
I nodded. "Did he tell you that?"
He shook his head.
I looked up at the apartment building behind Carter. There was a sign saying it was for sale. Not knowing what else to do, I said, "I should tell Robert about this building."
Carter craned his neck around and saw the sign. "Yes, you should." With that, he put his hand on the back of my neck and guided me up the street.
. . .
Once we'd made the climb up Taylor to California Street, I pointed to the right and said, "Let's make one stop before we go home."
Carter looked at his watch. "It's nearly 10, son. Don't you think it's a little late?"
I shook my head. "If they're home, they'll both be awake. I don't wanna sleep on this." I led the way across Taylor and past the Huntington Hotel. My father and Lettie lived on the first floor of 1055 California, which was just on the other side of the hotel.
. . .
"Come in, come in." That was my father. He was looking a little merry, as if he'd been drinking more than just his usual.
Taking off our hats, we followed him into the living room. There we found Lettie, Louise, and Ed. It looked like they were all a little tipsy. And they were dressed up. My father and Ed were in black tie while Lettie and Louise were wearing long beaded dresses.
"You're both just in time to go with us to the Tonga Room." That was Ed.
I shook my head. "We have a big day tomorrow." It wasn't true, but I had no desire to interrupt their party.
"To what do we owe this pleasure?" asked Lettie who was looking at me with some concern.
I took a deep breath and said, "I wanna go to Vermont for Christmas as long as everyone else does."
No one said anything for a moment as Ed, Lettie, and Louise looked at my father. Louise said, "This is precisely what I was talking about, Parnell."
My father nodded and walked up to me. Putting his right hand on my left shoulder, he said, "Nicholas, I think you're much more concerned about this than I. And I don't blame you. But don't be." He looked at me in a way that was surprising. He seemed to be genuinely and openly concerned for my feelings, which was a first.
I nodded. "Yes, sir. I just wanna make sure that you're OK with this."
He smiled and tilted his head slightly. "I am just fine with this idea. I'm looking forward to a white Christmas, something I've never experienced. Ed is arranging our accommodations."
Carter said, "You can stay with us."
My father shook his head. "No, I think not. Your cousin John and his friend will be going with us and Ed thinks it's best if they stay at your house."
I nodded. I couldn't imagine my father sleeping there. Not only would he and Lettie be in the room next door to his son and his son's male partner, but they would also be in the house where his first wife had likely had intimate relations with Ed, the man who was marrying Carter's mother, Louise. My head was swimming, just thinking of what that meant.
Lettie added, "Marnie and Alex will be joining us, of course. Ed says your house is perfect for family gatherings."
Looking at her, I nodded. "Yes, it is." I smiled. "And you'll get to meet the Misses Grace and Hyacinth."
Carter nodded. "Yes. That's as good a reason as any to go."
. . .
As we were walking across Huntington Park, I asked, "Doesn't it seem odd to be planning for Christmas this early?"
"Yeah. I don't think this had much to do with Christmas."
I nodded and sighed. "That's what I thought. It was more like a test."
"Yeah."
As we walked around the fountain, I asked, "How'd I do?"
"The test wasn't about you. I think Ed was testing your father."
"Huh." He was probably right.
Chapter 3
1198 Sacramento Street
Tuesday, October 11, 1955
Half past 10 in the evening
We walked into the house through the front door. As we made our way into the great room, I was surprised to see Henry sitting on the sofa. His head was tilted back and he was snoring slightly. The fire in the fireplace was going strong and the room was warm.
I looked at Carter who shrugged. Sitting next to Henry, I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Henry. Wake up."
He opened his eyes and looked at me as if he was confused about my being there. Looking up, he saw Carter standing in front of him and grinning down. He said, "Sorry. I must have fallen asleep."
"You must have. Is everything OK?" I asked.
His face started to contort as he began to cry. Carter immediately knelt down and took Henry's hand. "It's OK, Henry."
The other man nodded and sniffed a little. "I'm so sorry, Carter."
Shaking his head, my husband put his arms around Henry and pulled him in close. "It really is OK. I know you and I remember how you get. I was half expecting to see you here."
"You were?" I asked.
Carter nodded at me as he patted the back of Henry's head. "Yeah."
Sighing deeply, Henry said, "Well, I had to come by to apologize. It couldn't wait until tomorrow." He sniffed again as Carter let him go.
I put my hand on his arm and said, "You OK now?"
He nodded.
Carter stood and walked over to the bar in the dining room. "Henry, how about some brandy?"
"Sure, Carter. Thanks." Looking at me, Henry added, "I found out a few things about Mr. Grossman, by the way."
"That can wait until tomorrow," I said.
He sniffed again. "Might as well tell you now, while I'm here."
"Where's Robert?"
Henry gave half a smile. It was odd looking at him sometimes. Everyone said we resembled each other. And, I had to admit, he did look like me. Or vice-versa. But he really was so much more handsome. For one thing, he had a scar on the right side of his face that he'd received when he was in the Army. A German officer didn't like the fact Henry was arresting him and had used his knife to let him know. Instead of being disfiguring, it added character to his face. "He's at home. He's the one who sent me over here." He looked at his watch. "Wow. I must have been asleep for a while. I didn't know it was this late."
Carter was back with a small snifter of brandy. Handing it to Henry, he said, "We went to see To Catch A Thief."
Henry took a small sip. "Is that still playing?"
I shook my head. "Just this week at the Paramount."
"That old place. It really needs to come down."
I laughed. "It just needs some updates. I remember when it was called the Granada."
Carter pulled up a chair, had a seat, and added, "I like it. The building has character."
Henry shrugged and had another sip. "Did you like the movie?"
I looked at Carter and said, "This one wants to go to the Riviera now and drive a sports car just like Grace Kelly."
Carter nodded with a grin. "I don't think I would fit in that Sunbeam but I'd like to give it a try."
Henry smiled. "Well, if you go, you have to promise to take Robert. He's been wanting to go, too, ever since we saw the movie back in August."
"Sure," I said. I wasn't sure I wanted to go. It was pretty enough in the movies but we'd been traveling a lot in the last year and I was enjoying staying home for the last few months.
Henry drained his glass and set it down on the end table. "Let me tell you about the mysterious case of Mr. David Grossman."
I said, "That can wait, Henry."
He shook his head. "If I don't tell you, I'll have trouble falling asleep because I'll be thinking about it. Besides, you need to hear this tonight. You'll see why when I get through with everything."
I smiled. "Fine. What about Mr. Grossman?"
"Well, first off, they don't know where he is."
"What?" I asked.
He nodded. "One of the men I spoke with works in the same group as Grossman. He should have been back in the office this morning but didn't show. Someone called the man's home and they hadn't seen him nor were they expecting him." He paused to pull out a small piece of paper from his wallet. "He left Salisbury last Tuesday and flew on Central African Airways to Nairobi. The next day he left Nairobi on a BOAC flight and arrived in London on Thursday. He stayed at Claridge's Hotel in London until Sunday morning when he boarded a Pan American flight to Chicago which arrived around 7 yesterday morning. He then got on a Trans World flight that flew direct from Chicago to here yesterday. It was their flight 35, on a Super 'G' Constellation. The airline has a record of him boarding but no one knows if he got off the plane."
"How'd you get all those details?" I asked.
"I talked to my friend at about half past 5. He said he'd call me back at home. Right after dinner, I got a call from the security department at Bechtel. An agent there by the name of Stanley White gave me this information. He said they would like for you to look into things. Informally, of course. They've already been in touch with the police, but it's too early for a missing person's report."
I was surprised. "They want us to look into this?"
Henry nodded. "Yes. But very much on the Q.T. I also got a sort of backhanded apology for being fired."
"Really?" asked Carter.
"Yes. I guess someone over there has been paying attention to the work I've been doing."
"Any job offers?" I asked with a grin.
"No. But I wouldn't take one if they did."
I put my hand on his arm and said, "Glad to hear it." I sat there for a moment and thought about how to proceed.
Henry said, "Robert did some checking on his own and said to tell you that flight 35's crew is still here. They're staying at the St. Francis. Whoever he talked to said they could probably be found at the Tonga Room at the Fairmont. They're kinda infamous for that."
I looked over at Carter and said, "Well, I guess we're going out tonight, after all."
Chapter 4
The Tonga Room
Fairmont Hotel
950 Mason Street
Tuesday, October 11, 1955
A few minutes past 11 in the evening
The Fairmont was just a couple of blocks from the house. We walked into the Tonga Room and looked around to see if we could find my father. Using his chin, Carter said, "There they are." My father, Lettie, Ed, and Louise were all seated at a table by the big tank of water in the middle of the room. Once upon a time, it had been a swimming pool.
The Tonga Room had opened by the time I got back from the South Pacific after the war. When I was a kid, my sister, Janet, and I had gone swimming in the pool, then known as the Terrace Plunge. We'd been a few times over the years. Back in the 30s, the Fairmont had mostly been a musty old residential hotel, as much as anything. But when I got home in '45, the place had been remodeled and updated and was buzzing with guests, many of whom had been in town for the United Nations' conferences.
The swimming pool had been transformed into a sort of lagoon. There was a band playing on a covered floating barge in the middle of the water. It was festooned with bamboo, coconuts, and bright lights. The room was supposed to look like a deck of a cruise ship. There were metal posts around the lagoon which looked like the kind that would hold lifeboats over the side. Someone had once told me the dance floor was from a decommissioned ship.
When Carter and I walked in, the music sounded vaguely Hawaiian until I realized it was a sort of Polynesian version of "Blue Moon of Kentucky."
As we stood there, Lettie caught sight of us and waved us over. I said, "You go talk to them. I'll move around and see if I can find the stewardesses."
Carter said, "I think that's them at the table next to our crowd."
From where we were standing, I couldn't see whatever it was Carter could see, so I said, "Fine. Lead the way."
For a Tuesday night, the place was crowded. We'd been over a couple of times since we'd moved into the big pile of rocks down the street and it had never not been busy. Tiki bars, as places like the Tonga Room were known, seemed to be all the rage and were a big draw for locals and tourists, alike.
Carter politely pushed his way through the crowd and got us over to the far side of the bar much faster than I could have done on my own. As we walked up, a very merry Lettie met us and kissed Carter. "So glad you came, after all."
As she kissed me, I whispered, "We're here on a case, actually."
She whispered back, smelling like rum punch, "Really?"
"Do you know if those four ladies at the table next to you are stewardesses?"
"Why yes, Nicholas. They'r
e from Chicago. And all of them are quite lovely. Do you need me to get a confession out of one of them? Did one of them murder a passenger? Or maybe all four were in it together?" She giggled and then hiccuped. "Oh, pardon me." She was a lot drunker than I'd ever seen.
I stepped back and grinned. "Nothing like that. I just need to ask them about a passenger."
She put a finger to her nose and said, "Allow me to arrange that."
By that time, Carter and Ed had pulled over two additional chairs to their table. I followed Lettie to the table. I then shook hands with my father and Ed and gave Louise a kiss on the cheek.
Lettie moved around to where the four gals were chatting and laughing. She leaned down and said, "My son would like to have a word with you four, do you mind?"
One of them, a blonde, looked over at Carter and said, "I don't mind at all."
Lettie smiled. "Not him, him." In a very unladylike way, she pointed at me.
I smiled.
The blonde shrugged. "He looks harmless enough. Sure."
I stood and walked around to their table. I said, "Good evening, ladies, do you mind if I join you for a minute or two?"
A brunette with Mamie Eisenhower hair smiled at me. "Please do. I'm Irma."
"I'm Nick. Nice to meet you, Irma. Who are your friends?"
"That's Nanette." She was looking at the blonde, who took a sip of her drink and nodded at me.
"This is Jenny." She was a redhead who gave me a professional smile.
"And this is Carol." Another brunette whose hair was pulled off her face.
Carol looked at me coolly and said, "How do you do, Mr. Williams?"
I grinned. "Just fine, Carol."
The other three sighed, obviously disappointed.
Nanette stood and said, "Pardon me."
I stood as she walked off and then sat back down again.
"Don't mind Nanette," said Irma. "She doesn't like your kind."
I nodded. "That's fine. I hope you three can help me."
"How so?" asked Irma.
"It's about a passenger who was on your flight 35 today."
Irma looked at Jenny, who made a face in reply.
"What?" I asked.
The Childish Churl (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 15) Page 3
