The Childish Churl (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 15)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  Once everyone was inside and buckled in, the stewardess, Nina York, closed the door and signaled to the captain that we were ready. The engines roared to life and, in just a few minutes, we were making our way up into the air.

  The DC-3 was a reliable workhorse. That particular plane had been converted into a very comfortable living room in the sky. All the seats were leather. There were benches to lounge on once we were in the sky. A small bar was built into the middle of the cabin. It was a very nice setup. The only thing it lacked that our other planes had was a private cabin with a bed.

  Since we'd never made it home earlier in the day, we'd finally resigned ourselves to having to wait for our long-delayed roll in the hay until well after midnight, when we'd finally get home to bed.

  Once we were in the air, we all moved over to the benches so we could talk and, hopefully, hear each other over the loud engines. Even though the plane had been thickly insulated when it had been renovated, it was still much louder than any of our others.

  Carter asked, "Where are Bobby and Peggy?" That was Ed's younger son and his wife.

  Ed said, "Peggy wasn't feeling well so they decided to skip the trip."

  "Did Jimmy go with them?" asked Carter.

  Michelle nodded. "He wanted to see his uncles, but I told him he'd have plenty of time to see y'all tomorrow."

  Louise said, "I wish Bobby and Peggy were with us, though. Would've been nice for us all to be together this evening. Starting tomorrow, everything will just be a madhouse."

  Michelle said, "I know. But they weren't coming anyway. On the flight over, Bobby let us know, in no uncertain terms, his feelings about the kinds of movies Nick is making."

  I looked over at Louise. "And you know what you're getting yourself into, right? I don't think I'm gonna like this movie."

  She laughed and put her arm through Ed's. "I'm just along for the ride." She looked around the plane. "To be flying down to L.A. for a movie premiere... I think it's rather exciting."

  Carter said, "Now, Mama, we're going to San Bernardino, which is more like Albinny than L.A. And the movie theater is gonna be full of marines and airmen."

  Ed looked at Kenneth and winked. "And their girls."

  Michelle playfully slapped Ed. "I always knew you were a dirty old man, Ed." She looked at Louise. "But it's all an act."

  Louise smiled in return. "I know. He likes to pretend he's one way when I know better."

  Ed blushed and said, "Well, I don't have a good comeback to that."

  I looked at Kenneth. "How was the flight?"

  Michelle answered. "He couldn't tell you. He slept the whole way. Nice thing, having a bed on an airplane and not a Pullman bed, a real bed!"

  Carter and I both nodded. "It comes in handy," I said, hoping to steer the conversation away from the obvious.

  "Did you really buy it from Howard Hughes?" asked Kenneth, who seemed to pick up my distress call.

  I nodded. "After he tried to sue me for breaking it."

  "Breaking it?" asked Kenneth. "How?"

  Carter said, "We tried to take off in the rain and at night on a grass runway. But it wasn't that, as much as the fact that we got our cooties on it. Was Captain Morris flying?"

  Kenneth and Michelle both nodded.

  Carter continued, "If he's on the flight back, be sure to ask him about Hughes. He's got all sorts of stories. Kinda sad, really."

  I added, "But don't let Christine catch you. She doesn't like it when he talks about Hughes."

  Michelle sighed. "She's so gorgeous." Looking at Louise, she added, "And so chic."

  Nodding, Louise said, "We've flown with her before. Very professional and always dressed in just the best." Looking at me, she added, "Must be making a pretty penny."

  I loved Louise. Not only as Carter's mother, but also for who she was. But she had one small, annoying habit. And she'd only been doing it for a short while. For some reason, she'd started making comments about how much we were paying our employees. I tried to ignore it. But I'd mentioned it to Carter and he tended to try to cut her off when she did it.

  "Now, Mama, Christine works a lot. And she has to put up with all those Hollywood producers that Nick rents his planes to."

  Ed, rightly sensing danger, quickly said to me, "You're a Hollywood producer now, Nick, isn't that so?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. We'll see what you think of them as a group after the movie tonight."

  Ed grinned. "I'm sure it won't be nearly as bad as you think."

  "I don't know," was the only reply I could come up with, because I didn't.

  . . .

  Our captain took us due south over the San Joaquin Valley, so there wasn't a lot to see out the windows except for the mountains in the distance. But the company was much more interesting than anything else could be. However, I kept thinking about Janice Lyon and wondering about her and why she still lived at home. Finally, I looked at Michelle and asked, "What was your degree? At school?"

  She smiled. "Well, my friends always said I was there to get my MRS."

  Everyone laughed at that as Kenneth took her hand.

  "But I have a degree in education. I even taught a couple of years before Jimmy came along."

  I nodded. "What do you know about retarded kids?"

  She looked thoughtful. "Not much. Why do you ask?"

  "I met a girl of about 20 today. She was slow in some ways but smart in others. I can't stop thinking about her and why she's still living at home."

  To my surprise, Louise said, "Some of these children are very smart. They just don't always know how to take care of themselves."

  Ed said, "Did you know Louise used to work with a group of kids like that back in Albany?"

  Both Carter and I shook our heads. I knew not to pry into her past. She didn't like anyone, particularly Carter or myself, to ask too many questions about the time after Carter left and before his father was murdered.

  Louise said, "I helped out. I have no real expertise. But if this girl is living at home and she's being cared for, then she's a lot luckier than most. The old superstitions about mental defects being contagious still persists in some places."

  "But, Mama," said Carter, "we're talking about Mill Valley, not Albany."

  She looked at him with a flash of anger. "Isn't Sausalito just down the road? And isn't that where the two of you were arrested for just walking around town?" She shook her head. "No, sir. Don't you tell me about how California isn't the same as Georgia. I have my own two eyes, boy."

  Carter stood and said, "Excuse me." I watched as he stalked off to the lavatory at the rear of the plane.

  In a very soothing voice, Ed said, "Louise. I don't think—"

  Wrenching her hand from his, she stood and followed Carter to the back. Not realizing he was being followed, he walked into the lavatory and slammed the door in her face. She crossed her arms, walked over to the nearest window, and stared out.

  I looked over at Ed, who was frowning. He made a move to stand and Kenneth put his arm out. "Let them work this out. You, yourself, told us they need to have a big fight. What better place than in an old tin can like this that's so noisy we won't be able to hear them?"

  Ed sat back and sighed. "You're right, son." Looking at me, he asked, "What do you think?"

  I replied, "This has been a long-time coming."

  Michelle asked, "Don't you wanna get in the middle of it?"

  I shook my head and looked at Ed. "No one in their right mind would get in the middle of that. Those two are among the most stubborn people you will ever meet."

  He nodded in reply and said, "You're definitely right about that."

  . . .

  "She's very nice." We were talking about Rosalind Russell. I tried to keep from looking at the aft end of the plane where the big showdown was underway. "She and her husband Freddie are coming up for the wedding. Louise invited them. They're staying at the Fairmont, which is a couple of blocks from the house."

  Michelle asked, "Do you think sh
e'll be there tonight?"

  "Probably not. It's a long drive from L.A. and she already told me that she doesn't like these kinds of movies."

  Kenneth grinned. "You just always have to be pissing someone off, doncha?"

  I smiled. "Sure. Now most of Hollywood is mad at me." I looked around the plane. "Doesn't keep them from using this plane, however."

  "What do you mean?" asked Michelle.

  "We fly a kind of shuttle service between Burbank and San Francisco using this plane. All sorts of stars have used it. L.A. is a pretty boring town, so lots of 'em fly up to the City for the weekend."

  "Don't they know you own it?" asked Kenneth.

  I shrugged. "Some do and some don't. One person who won't fly it is—"

  Right then we hit an air pocket and the plane fell a hundred feet or so. The sickening sound of the propellers trying to get traction in dead air lasted for a couple of seconds. That was followed by the crunching sound of glasses and bottles smashing against each other in the little midships bar.

  Of the four of us sitting on the benches, we all managed to hold on. Miss York, the stewardess, had been standing by the open cockpit door and had fallen against the walls of the cargo hold up front and then hit her head when she landed on the floor. I ran up the aisle to check on her.

  When I got there, she was out cold. A gash on her forehead was bleeding. I looked up to see Michelle standing over me. She said, "Go get some towels."

  I stood and ran back to where the galley was in the back. Carter was groggily sitting up and shaking his head. I stepped over him and past Louise, who was standing next to the door, holding on to the strap with white knuckles.

  Quickly finding the towels, I walked around Carter and made my way to the forward section of the plane. Ed was right behind me with a small bottle of brandy.

  I handed the towels to Michelle, who used one to apply pressure to Miss York's forehead. Her eyes were open but unfocused. Ed said, "Let's move her to one of the benches."

  Michelle said, "Good idea." She stood and stepped behind the cargo hold so that Ed and I could lift the stewardess.

  I picked her up under her arms and Ed got her by the feet. With me walking backwards and Michelle guiding me, we got her to the starboard bench. Louise was suddenly there. She grabbed a couple of pillows and put them under Miss York's head. Michelle continued to apply pressure and, in a matter of thirty seconds or so, the bleeding stopped.

  Ed leaned over and put his index finger in front of the young woman's face. "Follow my finger." She blinked a couple of times but appeared to be able to do so. He smiled and patted her shoulder. "You did good. I'll let the captain know to have a doctor available when we arrive." He turned and made his way forward to the cockpit.

  She smiled weakly. "Sorry to be so much trouble."

  I said, "No trouble at all. I'm just glad you're OK."

  She nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Williams."

  I smiled and nodded. Turning, I looked up at Carter. "How are you?"

  He gave me half a smile. Rubbing his lower back, he said, "A little bruised."

  I said, "Let me see."

  He frowned slightly.

  I grinned and put my hand up on his shoulder. "Come on, fireman. Let's go take a look."

  . . .

  The lavatory on the plane had, at some point, been expanded. We'd flown on DC-3s on P.S.A. and their lavatories were about half as big. I pushed Carter into the small room, which was large enough for both of us even though Carter had to stoop over.

  I made him lean against the far wall. Pulling his coat off, I reached through his belted trousers and pulled up his shirt and undershirt. Exposing his back, I could see a bruised spot just on the left side of his back and above his belt.

  Leaning over, I kissed it. "That feel any better?"

  Carter laughed and said, "Your kisses can raise the dead, Nick."

  I snorted as I pulled his shirts down. He shooed away my hand and tucked them in.

  "Did you and your mother have it out?" I asked.

  "Sure," he replied as he finished tucking his shirt in.

  "And?"

  He turned around and shrugged. "It's the same argument we had the last year I lived in Albany. Every time you see her get angry or I start a sentence off with, 'But, Mama,' we're just getting back into it."

  "So, did you finish it this time?"

  "Nope. Turbulence got in the way. What about the car?"

  "What car?" It was getting warm in the cramped space of the lavatory.

  Giving me a lop-sided grin, he said, "Your car. The Buick."

  I cleared my throat and ran my sweaty palms along my trousers. "I'll, uh, call Gustav. He and Ferdinand can drive the Mercury up to Santa Rosa and caravan back."

  Carter ran his index finger along my chin and put his thumb over my lips, tapping them as he did. "That's a good idea."

  "Uh, huh." I was losing the thread of the conversation. I looked at him. His green eyes were boring through me. I had the same warm and lustful feeling I'd had earlier in the day. I wanted him to take me right then and right there.

  Suddenly, he grabbed my face with both hands and pulled it towards his. We stood there for a couple of minutes, kissing passionately. Finally, there was a knock.

  "Yeah," growled Carter.

  "Captain says we're getting ready to land." That was Ed.

  I said, "We'll be right there. Thanks, Ed."

  He cleared his throat. "Sure, Nick."

  Carter whispered in my ear. "We finally embarrassed him."

  I whispered back. "It won't be the last time."

  Carter nodded and hugged me tightly.

  Chapter 16

  Ritz Theatre

  423 North E Street

  San Bernardino, Cal.

  Thursday, October 13, 1955

  Twenty minutes past 9 in the evening

  "Look, Johnny, I'm telling you how it's gonna be. You got that?"

  The camera was looking up from about knee-level at the kid who was talking. I could see his crotch as it jutted out under his white t-shirt which hugged his tight belly. He wasn't tucked like most actors usually did. His slick pompadour stuck out over his forehead against the sky above him. Putting his dusty boot up on the chrome bumper of the car that had just won the race, Bill spit on the ground.

  "Sure, Bill. You're gonna go down there in that town and tell the sheriff where to go, aren't you?"

  As his friend spoke, the camera stayed fixed on Bill. The scratched sole of his boot was on the right side of the frame. And his crotch was on the left.

  Bill leaned towards the camera and, from his belt, he slowly took out his long Bowie knife and began to casually clean the grime from under his fingernails as he spoke.

  "I am, Johnny."

  Looking down at the ground, and giving us a clear view of his face, he appeared to wink at his friend but was really winking at the camera. He grinned broadly as he spoke.

  "I'm gonna tell that sorry sheriff to go to hell."

  He kept cleaning his fingernails with a grin as the screen slowly faded to black. The credits began to play over a song that sounded vaguely like "Rock Around The Clock" but wasn't.

  The audience burst into applause and whistles. The man who'd introduced the movie jumped up on the stage. He was about 30 and had as big a pomp as Bill on the screen. He was wearing a black suit that was too tight but made his ass look good. Using the mic that he pulled over from the side, he grinned out at the audience and said, "Hey there, cats and kittens, thanks for coming down to the show. We wanna know what you know about bein' in the know, so be sure to fill out those cards and drop 'em on the ushers when you skate on out." He made a sliding motion with his left hand. "See you on the backside."

  He jumped down off the stage and started glad-handing the kids. And they were all kids. I was pretty sure there was no one in the audience older than 25 and most weren't even 20. It was also obvious that all the guys were from the nearby military bases. They had the tell-tale haircuts. The
girls had to be locals who were out on a date with a marine or an airman.

  The crowd had been raucous. They had cheered and laughed and clapped at all the right places. The movie was a hit. At least with that crowd. And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

  . . .

  After the theater had been cleared, we huddled in the empty lobby. The preview had been the only thing scheduled for that night, so the staff was closing down as we talked.

  About twenty minutes into the movie, when the two girls were in the bathroom complaining about their boyfriends and styling their hair, Louise and Ed had stood and walked out. I didn't blame them and, before the movie started, had told them not to worry if they wanted to leave.

  We'd all been seated in the back row. Besides the six of us who'd flown down, we were with Ben White, Carlo Martinelli, and Ronald Jessup, the director. The four main leads had driven out for the premier, as well. There was Brigham Taylor, the one who'd played Bill. Harry Vicks had played Johnny. Maria Lopez had played Rosanna, Bill's girl. And, Jenny Fortunata had played Laura, Johnny's girl.

  After Ben made introductions, Jessup looked up from the survey cards. He was gleeful. "They fuckin' loved it." He thumped the stack with his left hand. "Not a single one, two, or three. Every one of those kids marked it four or five and a few wiseacres marked it ten."

  He paged through them. "There're some great comments in here. 'You killed it.' 'When's the next one?' 'Janie and me wished it was longer.' This stuff is dynamite!"

  Looking at me, he said, "This is what I meant. This is what I told you. And we've got the next one in the can and we're already filming on the one after that." He sighed contentedly, looked around, and asked the group, "Well? What do you think?"

  There was an awkward silence. I could tell that the kids were watching us to see what we had to say. Carter got the ball rolling and said, "I don't think I'm the right age for this picture."

  Louise, Ed, and Michelle all murmured in agreement.

  To my surprise, Kenneth said, "Man, that was some movie."

  I looked over at him. He was flushed and running his hands through his hair. It was an odd thing to see.

  Jessup was nodding expectantly. With a grin, he asked, "I take it you liked it?"