by J. L. Abramo
“He’s asleep,” she said, “let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
Sadness and guilt hit me like a garbage truck.
“Sure, Sally,” I said, “you look great.”
Eleven
I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on Sally French.
Sally came into my San Francisco office shortly after I had opened shop. My first client. Jimmy Pigeon had sent her to me; she was looking to find her mother.
I was no expert in genealogy but I was able to track down Mrs. Wanda Temple through an acquaintance in Adoption Services. Mrs. Temple had given Sally up for adoption at birth when Wanda was a sixteen-year-old unmarried High School student. At twenty-one Wanda married millionaire Byron Temple. Temple had made his money in the import/export business and had died when his Lear jet failed to clear Mount Abel in Los Padres National Forest. The Temples had no children. Wanda became intent on finding her long lost daughter after Temple’s plane went down and, as fate would have it, Sally had made up her mind to try locating her mother at about the same time. The coincidence served to make my job a lot easier.
Sally French was a knockout. She worked in a Department Store in Pleasant Hill, an upper-middle-class suburb east of San Francisco, but she could easily have been a fashion model or even a film actress. She had the looks that render acting ability unimportant. When she first walked into my office I was almost ready give up the idea of private investigation and become her agent.
Shortly into the two months it took me to locate Wanda Temple, Sally and I began an affair.
Not very smart, but I wasn’t intellectualizing much in those days.
When Sally and Wanda were finally reunited both women were madly in love with me for helping to bring them together. It was a little too much admiration to turn my back on. Sally and I were soon married; Jimmy Pigeon was my Best Man. Sally and I moved into a house that Wanda had purchased for us near the Presidio.
Things were fine until Sally began recommending that I get out of the Private Investigation business. The vocation that had helped to locate her wealthy mother was no longer worthy of her new husband. She had the dubious honor of being my first client and would have liked to be my last. Sally wasted little time making her feelings known.
Sally wanted me to go to work for Bytemp Enterprises, Byron Temple’s corporation which Wanda inherited total ownership of after Temple’s death. Sally jumped into Bytemp with both feet. She enrolled in a Business Degree program at San Francisco State.
I wasn’t as eager to take the plunge. I enjoyed my work too much. Sally went from disappointment to resentment in record time. By the second year of our marriage hardly a week went by when I didn’t hear about how selfish I was being, refusing to grant Sally and her mother the help and support they needed. And also hearing about how I was wasting my life, by the way. I still can’t understand what all the fuss was about. I’m sure that Sally understood what an idiot I was when it came to business and Bytemp came complete with a highly skilled staff of professionals when Wanda Temple took over.
I couldn’t help thinking that Sally and Wanda just wanted me where they could keep their eyes on me.
Meanwhile Diamond Investigation was doing well enough to justify its existence, at least in my eyes. I had hired Darlene Roman to run the office and Darlene single-handedly took care of the business end, allowing me to remain a financial imbecile and concentrate on investigations.
Sally’s attitude toward Darlene ran from chilly to glacial. Darlene was helping to keep the business going, which was at cross-purposes with Sally’s plans.
And Darlene Roman looked very good in a skirt as well, though I never really suspected that Sally could be jealous.
Sally wanted me to give something up for her, and Diamond Investigation was all I had to sacrifice. I needed to feel that I had accomplished something on my own, and Diamond Investigation was all I had that qualified. Sally was a little selfish and insecure; I was insecure and a little lazy.
Of course, this is only Monday morning quarterbacking. I could be wrong.
Regardless, I could have tried a lot harder to save the marriage.
We both could have.
And Grace Shipley really had little to do with it.
Twelve
“What are you doing here Jake?” she asked, sitting across from me at a table in the hospital cafeteria.
Sally French was really very beautiful.
“I came to talk with Dick Spencer,” I said.
“Richard is in no condition to talk right now.”
“I guess he let it go a little too far before he spilled the beans to Crazy Al Pazzo.”
I regretted saying it the moment it slipped out.
“He never told Pazzo a thing, Jake.”
There’s nothing like instant verification that you’re being a jerk.
And nothing like hearing from your ex-wife that her new fiancée is much nobler than you are.
“Sorry,” I said, “I heard that you and Richard were getting hitched. I guess it shocked me some. Congratulations.”
I could tell by the way she looked at me that she had no difficulty identifying a lame remark when she heard one.
“I’d really rather that you didn’t bother Richard,” she said, “He doesn’t need any more trouble.”
“I’m just trying to find out what happened with Jimmy. I would think that you’d be interested also.”
“I’m not losing sleep over it. I cared for Jimmy, you know that. And I’m not saying that he deserved to die. But he did have a habit of flirting with trouble. And in any case, Richard has no idea about what happened with Jimmy, as I’m sure he has already told you.”
“I was hoping that Dick could help me understand all of the business angles.”
“What do you want to know? Or did you forget that I have a Master’s Degree in Business Administration?”
No, Sally, I didn’t forget.
“Why do you think that Jimmy was hesitant to sell the Internet Company? Half of a million bucks is a lot of money.”
“A million can be chickenfeed in the Internet business,” she said.
And then she began to explain initial public offerings to a moron.
“I’ll use round numbers to make it easier to compute. I’ll assume that you know the difference between a privately owned company and a publicly owned company.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Do you want to hear this or not, Jake?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Suppose that the owners of the company decided to go public with the business. An underwriter would have to be found and the number of shares to be offered would be determined. For the purpose of discussion, let’s say it was a million shares. The underwriter would offer a number of those shares, let’s say two hundred thousand, to inside investors including the owners of the company at a real value price before they went on the open exchange. Maybe five dollars a share, if someone thought that the company was worth paying a million dollars for. With me so far?”
“Right there,” I said.
“The initial public offering, or IPO, would go on the Exchange at a price also determined by the underwriter, say ten dollars a share. If enough interest is generated, as has been the case with many Internet IPOs, the stock could close as high as twenty dollars a share at the end of the first day of trading. Jimmy’s shares would be worth four times what he paid for them. If Jimmy grabbed a hundred thousand shares, that’s two million. A lot more than he could make selling outright to Richman.”
“Where would Jimmy get five hundred grand to buy in?”
“He had his half of the company as collateral.”
“What if the stock closed down from its initial offering price?”
“It’s always a gamble, but as long as it stayed above five a share, Jimmy would be covered. The track record of Internet IPOs made it a pretty good bet.”
“Why didn’t you and Wanda go public with Bytemp if it’s su
ch a sure thing?” I asked.
I expected her to tell me that it was none of my business. She came very close to doing just that.
“I didn’t say it was a sure thing, I said it was a good bet,” she finally said, and added, “and who says we didn’t?”
I could never be accused of missing a chance to push it.
“How’d you do?”
“Not bad, but you’re getting off the subject.”
Okay.
“Do you think that Jimmy was aware of the potential?”
“Just because Jimmy was colorful didn’t make him stupid. Jimmy came to me not long ago and I ran him through it.”
“So he wanted to go public with the company?”
“I don’t know what he finally decided. You’ll have to speak to the person he went to about trying to find an interested underwriter.”
“And who would that have been, if I could ask?”
I was beginning to go timid on her.
“His old college buddy. You remember Linc, don’t you Jake?” she said.
Sure I remembered Linc, Lincoln French, the man who walked Sally down the aisle to meet me at the altar.
“Do you think your father would be willing to talk with me?”
“I have no clue. You’re not his favorite person.”
“Could you put in a good word for me?”
“Why would I want to do that, even if I could come up with a good word for you?”
“To help me find out who killed our friend Jimmy Pigeon?”
“Will you leave Richard alone if I help you?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll call my father, but I can’t promise that he’ll go for it.”
“Good enough. I appreciate it Sally.”
“Stay away from Richard,” she said.
She quickly rose from the table and walked away.
I let her leave without a word.
Again.
I turned my attention back to less complicated issues.
If there was so much potential profit in going public with Ex-Con.com why would Harry Harding be inclined to sell out to Walter Richman for a measly million? I could only hope that Lincoln French would be willing to let ex-son-in-law bygones be bygones and tell me how he had advised Jimmy Pigeon. Since French was up in Sausalito it was time to get back up to the Bay area. Any reason for getting out of LA was at least something.
With Dick Spencer in the hospital it looked like Vinnie would have to wait for his five grand so I decided I’d take Boyle’s advice and offer Strings a ride back with me.
I only wished I could say that I was looking forward to the company.
Tina Bella’s payday would have to wait also, and the longer I had to keep her out of sight the better the chances that Crazy Al Pazzo’s vast unintelligence network would succeed in locating her and punishing me. Not a happy thought.
And Sally hadn’t given me the chance to wake Spencer up and pull the name of Jimmy’s ex-wife out of him. I was hoping to convince Spencer that Jimmy Pigeon would have wanted me to know, in case the woman was in any danger.
I wanted to convince myself.
When I turned the corner onto Bobby’s street the first thing I saw was the black Cadillac sitting in front of the house, and the very hefty Italian-American leaning on the front fender. I would have driven right by, but why get smart now? I pulled in behind the Caddy and got out of my car. Without ceremony the ape opened the back door of the Cadillac and motioned for me to get in.
I got in.
“Mr. Diamond, do you know who I am?”
Yeah, my worst nightmare.
“Yes I do Mr. Pazzo,” I said, “I’ve seen you many times on television.”
“I’m looking for Tina.”
“Tina?” What the hell, might as well try.
“My wife, Tina Bella Pazzo.”
“Oh, that Tina. I didn’t know you two were married. Congratulations.”
He gave me a look that could freeze baked ziti.
“Can you help me?” he asked.
“I’d love to help you Mr. Pazzo, but I have no idea where Mrs. Pazzo might be.”
I had decided to stop pushing my luck and go the respect route.
“You’re fairly certain?”
Seemed like Alfonzo had been brushing up on his English. I resisted the impulse to say ‘quite certain’.
“Yes, sir.”
“In that case I would like to employ your services.”
Great.
“I’d love to help you Mr. Pazzo,” I said, “but I have pressing business in San Francisco and need to get back there right away.”
“Perfect. I have reason to believe that my wife is somewhere in San Francisco. I’d like to hire you to find her.”
Perfect.
“Mr. Pazzo, with all respect, I’m pretty bogged down with work at the present time. When it rains it pours, know what I mean?”
“Are you refusing to assist me, Mr. Diamond?”
Whatever gave him that idea? I wanted to say ‘don’t be silly’ but thought better of it. If I turned him down my name would be put on a list that names didn’t stay on for very long before they were scratched out permanently. And if it wasn’t me it would be someone else hired to find Tina so maybe this was a blessing in disguise.
Yeah, sure.
“I’d love to help you, Mr. Pazzo,” I said, for the third time. “What makes you think that your wife has gone to San Francisco?”
“I have my ways,” he said.
I bet he did.
“I’ll give you four days to find her,” he added.
“I don’t work that way Mr. Pazzo,” I said, “sir.”
“There’s always a first time.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You do that,” he said, and then after an interminable silence added, “you can get out of the car now Mr. Diamond.”
I got out of the car.
Al’s gorilla got behind the wheel and the Caddy pulled away.
I was left to decide whether to return Bobby’s tie or hang myself with it.
When I got into the house I called Willie Dogtail. I asked him to tell Vinnie to get ready to leave as soon as he returned from the racetrack. Vinnie was going to be a real pain in the ass for seven or eight hours in the car, complaining about having to go back without his five grand.
The phone rang the moment I placed the receiver in its cradle.
“Jake, two really big men barged in here about two hours ago all hot to speak with you. When I told them that you weren’t here they insisted that I tell them where you lived.”
“Slow down, Darlene.”
I could hear her take a deep breath.
“Since Tina is at your place I thought it would be best to tell them you were down in LA and when I understood they weren’t particularly satisfied I thought I’d better tell them where in LA. I’ve been trying to warn you.”
“It’s okay, Darlene. You did the right thing. We’ve just been hired to find Tina Bella.”
“By Crazy Al?”
“None other.”
“Jesus, Jake.”
“Is luck my middle name or what?”
“What are you going to do?”
Good question.
“I’m not sure, but at least he’s giving me four days.”
“What can I do?”
“Just stay calm, Darlene. I’ll be back tonight. Why don’t you go home in case they decide to revisit the office.”
“You’ll call me as soon as you get in?”
“I will.”
“Be careful Jake,” she said.
“It may be a little too late for that. Go home.”
I called the hospital. I had promised Sally that I wouldn’t bother Spencer but I thought that maybe I could urge him to send Tina’s check up to San Francisco so that I could cut her loose. Of course Sally answered the phone in the hospital room.
“You promised not to bother him, Jake.”
“Please, just ask
him to send Tina Pazzo’s money up to me as soon as possible. Tell him that the longer she has to wait the more danger she’s in.”
“I’ll tell him. Goodbye.”
“Thank you, Sally,” I said, and then because nothing is ever enough with me I added, “Did you have a chance to speak with Lincoln?”
“I said I’d do it. I’m a little busy right now. I’ll call him in the morning. Goodbye.” The line went dead.
Nice going Jake, I thought. Me, me, me.
I replaced Bobby’s tie in his closet and wrote a short note thanking him for letting me use his place. I collected my few things, including what was left of the bottle of Dickel, and headed out to the street.
I checked the oil in the Chevy and topped it off with a quart from the trunk. I started the car and headed out to Santa Monica to pick up Vinnie at Dogtail’s beach house.
I had wanted to make at least one more stop before leaving Los Angeles. I had planned to visit the office of Ex.Con.com, where Jimmy was killed, to see if Pigeon had left anything for me to go on.
I decided that it would have to wait.
Getting Vinnie out of town and figuring out what to do about Tina Pazzo were more immediate concerns. I could try to see Lincoln French and come back down if I thought it was necessary.
The drive up to San Francisco was just as I had imagined it would be, only worse. I couldn’t shut Strings up about his money.
I finally managed to tune Vinnie out completely by going over all of the progress I had made by visiting Los Angeles.
It didn’t take very long.
I had found Harry Harding. Maybe I had learned why Jimmy was reluctant to sell the company, but still didn’t know why Harding was hot to sell or where his widow stood on the question. I had learned that Jimmy Pigeon had an ex-wife, but had no idea who she was or where she was or if she was in jeopardy. I had been very neatly assured by Ted Alster that Richman International was effectively out of the equation. I had agreed to hide Tina Bella, putting Darlene and myself in danger for the effort, and then I had been hired by Crazy Al Pazzo to find Tina.
