Death on the Sound

by Wayne Saunders

  “I asked you out, so it’s my treat. Next time I’ll let you get the check.”

  I was testing the waters to see if a next evening out was in the offing.

  “Okay, but I’m holding you to it,” she smiled.

  We exited the restaurant and hailed a cab. Mine would be the first stop. This is one time I wished I had my car.

  “Maya, I really enjoyed our dinner, I’d like to go out with you again, soon. Would that be okay?”

  “I had fun to Abby, except next time I’ll ask you and I’ll pay.”

  “I’ll look forward to the call.”

  In the darkened cab, I couldn’t see her eyes, but my hand reached the short distance between us and took her hand. There was no jolt of surprise, no resistance to my touch as I held her hand. The cab pulled up to my security gate, and I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “I’ll be waiting for a call Maya, and don’t wait too long okay?”

  “Don’t worry Abby; it won’t be long at all.”

  I got out and waved to Maya as the cab roared off into the night.

  I checked my watch under the bright night light at the head of the ramp down to my dock, and saw that it was nine thirty. I pulled out my cell and hit the speed dial for Tom. It took six rings for him to answer.

  “You weren’t in making an ice cream sundae were you?” I asked.

  “No, I was watching John Wayne and fell asleep. I must be tired I never do that. So, why the phone call at nine thirty Abby?”

  “Two things, one I have a name for us to start on in the morning and two I wanted to make sure you were alright. You took quite a jolt from your doctor today. I didn’t want you feeling too sorry for yourself.”

  “Not sorry, just pissed that I did all this to myself. It’s an awful big ship to turn around Abby; I just hope I can do it. Oh, and who is the winner in the hole in the ground contest?”

  “The winner is Sharon Keller; a twenty five year old homeless girl that I’m sure will have left no clues for us to track. Now, turn off John and go get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow and no lip.”

  “Yes, dear, goodnight Abby.”

  “Goodnight Tom.”

  I unlocked my door and shed my clothes as I walked to the counter to pour a short scotch. Felix, my pushy black cat, was complaining about his late dinner hour, and I stopped my scotch interlude to feed the cat. As Felix slurped and smacked, I sipped my scotch, and looked out at the blinking lights of the other houseboats across the water, and wondered how many were standing in their underwear sipping scotch.

  I gathered up my clothes, went upstairs, steamed myself in a hot shower, and went to bed. As I lay thinking about Sharon Keller and how I was going to start investigating, Maya came walking into the picture, literally. She stood in the doorway of her office, slowly turned in front of me, and then walked over and sat in my lap; that’s all I remembered, as my eyes and brain gave in for the day.

  Chapter 5

  Thursday started like Monday; more rain. After a drive by breakfast, I ran out my door and up the ramp to the street above, hoping I didn’t miss my bus and have to wait the twenty four minutes until the next one came by. My umbrella was throwing me all over the sidewalk. Have you ever tried to run with an umbrella in twenty mile an hour winds; it sucks.

  I got to my stop and heaved a sigh of relief when I saw the usual crowd that rode my bus. As I watched my bus turn the corner four blocks up, the wind killed my umbrella. One minute it was doing its job and the next it was inside out with three broken doohickeys dangling at the side blowing in the wind. As my bus pulled up to the curb, I turned and made a deposit to the litter can. I rewarded myself, on the ride to the precinct, with a replay of my dinner with Maya. When I stepped off the bus, I was calmer, and only missed my umbrella a little as a morning mist started soaking the life out of my hair; thanks Seattle.

  I was shocked to see Tom at his desk. His cheeks were red, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

  “My, don’t we look rosy this morning.”

  “I decided to use the police gym in the basement, and try getting myself back into some kind of shape, nothing fancy just some sit-ups and a five mile turn on the stationary bike. I don’t want to kill myself in the gym. I already have diabetes; I don’t need a stroke to go with it.”

  “That’s great Tom, I’m proud of you, and I don’t think you want a stroke now, either. I’m glad you didn’t overdo it.”

  I saw his smile beaming. He just needed someone to encourage him, and with no wife, I was elected.

  “I thought if you could nose around into Sharon Keller’s records that I’d go check a couple of sources on the streets and see if we can get moving on who killed Sharon.”

  “Good, I need to rest from my morning exercise. I’m not used to this shit Abby.”

  I put my hand Tom’s shoulder, and gave it a friendly squeeze.

  “You’ll get used to it Tom.”

  I checked out a car, and joined the rush of cars moving toward downtown at snail’s pace to track down Conrad Baines. Conrad was a fifty something year old transient that stayed in Seattle year round. I hoped he was still alive; most of them tend not to live a full life. He told me once Seattle was the only city he’d been in that had class. Class to Conrad meant good handouts, and a place to get in out of the rain. I parked the car, and put my get out of jail free card on the dash and started my search. I hit the bars, flophouses, and alley hangouts. As my feet were giving me a song and dance about being tired two hours later, I spotted Conrad sitting on a metal bench, in front of a cigar shop at the edge of pioneer square.

  Conrad was inching his way into the uptown crowd. He was sporting new clothes, at least for him, and looked half way presentable. He looked like any typical retiree watching the pedestrians trudge by in the morning rain. I knew Conrad because I’d arrested him several times over the years. He was somewhere in his late fifties, but he looked forty five; men have all the luck.

  “Conrad, you handsome devil, as I live and breathe. I’ve been looking for you for two hours or more. This is uncharted territory for you isn’t it?” I said, waving my arm at his surroundings.

  “Well, if it isn’t Abby, my favorite sexy detective. I thought you’d be one of the head coppers by now.”

  “Nope, I enjoy meeting the backbone of Seattle society like you Conrad,” I grinned.

  I noticed his front tooth was still missing in action. It gave him that Terry Thomas look.

  “I need some help Conrad. We found a body uptown a couple of days ago, and it’s been identified as Sharon Keller. She was about twenty five, almost twelve years ago. I need to pick your brain, and see if you remember her or can point me to someone who does. It’s worth some serious money for me to get some information.”

  I sat down next to Conrad, which in the old days could be considered dangerous to your health. Well, mostly your nose’s health. Conrad was not a friend of water and soap. I looked over at him as he screwed up his face trying to feign deep thought. The man was a consummate actor, and full of bullshit like most of them. He kept to himself, and had very little to do with anyone that wasn’t from his lot in life. I was probably the only exception. It had been me that saved him from becoming barbeque. Nine years ago, while I was on patrol, my partner and I rolled up on a transient that was on fire. It was the “cool” thing to do for high school kids at the time. Fine a transient that had passed out and set him on fire. It was sick, and I so wished I could have caught them in the act. My foot was itching to drop-kick their nuts into the next county. We luckily got to Conrad before he was too far along. He’s been my “bud” ever since.

  “I seem to remember her. Just what kind of serious money are we talking about?”

  “I’ll go a hundred for good information, and more if you break the bank with the best information ever.”

  His dirt encrusted eyes twinkled at the prospect of some wine money.

  “She was a cute girl and popular, but she had her
issues with drugs. She’d be in the cellar of life trying to dig herself out for a few months, and then come back and really start to make a good showing. She used to run with a girl called Tawny James. I think Tawny may still be around, but I just haven’t seen her.”

  I took out my card, a hundred dollar bill, and pressed them into Conrad’s almost clean hand.

  “If you think of anything else call me. It may mean a bit more money if it’s good stuff. How have you been Conrad? I don’t get down here often enough to see you very much anymore. You look like you're doing good, for an older transient gentleman.”

  “I’m at the pinnacle Abby, at the pinnacle. My daughter tracked me down last month, and she’s asked me to leave this life, and come live with her and her husband and my two grandkids in Olympia. I told her I’d think about it. I don’t know if I could stand living in a home all the time. I’m too used to the outdoor life here in Seattle.”

  “Conrad, that works fine when you’re young, spry, and supple. When you get up to your age you may want to rethink your priorities. It sounds like a good deal. I’d accept if I were you.”

  “Yeah, it’s getting harder to make ends meet in this economy. People are crankier than usual, and there are more and more people like me, trying to eke out an existence on the street; just too much frigging competition Abby.”

  I patted his boney knee, and stood to leave.

  “Call me if you think of anything else Conrad and please take your daughter’s offer. You deserve to finish out your years in comfort,” I smiled down at him.

  His Terry Thomas smile beamed up at me, and gave a short nod of his head.

  Most of the snitches we detectives use are the dregs of society that go unnoticed by most everyone, but they’re the ones that see what goes on in our streets. Their information is invaluable to us at least most of the time.

  Chapter 6

  I got back to the precinct at lunch time and picked up two small turkey subs on the way in. I found Tom huddled over his keyboard, hunting and pecking his way through the police website.

  “Here, Tom, take a break and get some food in you.”

  He looked up and then leaned back in his chair. He looked at the six inch sub and then back up at me.

  “No chips and where’s the soda?”

  “Have you forgotten already, you’re on a diet Tom? No chip and no coke, that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  He stood up and walked over to the coffee room and took two bottles of water out of the cooler and set one down in front of me.

  “You got the subs, and I got the water, what teamwork.”

  “Just like Laurel and Hardy.”

  “Who’s Hardy?” he smiled.

  “My belt size is twenty eight, what’s yours skinny?”

  “Shit.”

  We ate in silence, and I looked up Tawny James while I ate. By the end of lunch, I’d gotten a couple of leads on Tawny and needed to go out again. I’d leave Tom to continue his homework. He was better off not out in the real world with all the food temptations for awhile.

  “What have you got so far Tom?” I asked.

  “I found her account at Key Bank. Her largest balance was eight hundred dollars, and that was in ninety five. It stayed close to that amount until she got whacked. She used to work at the Knight Ranger, there was an auto deposit set up for six months until she either left or got canned. That’s all I got so far. This computer’s kickin’ my butt. I guess I should take a class huh?”

  “It’d help if you’d learn to type. You waste half your time just finding the keys to hit,” I remarked.

  “Hey, I’ve got a medical condition, give me some slack huh?”

  I smiled as I grabbed my coat, leaned down, and kissed his forehead.

  “Have fun with your computer ace.”

  “Bite me,” came his reply.

  I spent the afternoon trying to track down Tawny, with only a tiny bit of luck. I got the name of three other places where she might be but no concrete results. I drug myself home and Felix proceeded to tell me what a harrowing day he’d had guarding our home. He followed me up to my room and sat on the bed, watching me undress and change into my sweats. After feeding, he disappeared for rest of the evening, and I was left to fend for myself. I found Felix at a crime scene five years ago. An old woman had been murdered for her social security check, and left lying in her kitchen. I found the cat, later to be called Felix, hiding in the open closet in her bedroom. I love animals, but I tend to forget to take care of them sometimes. Between my job and my love life, pet maintenance schedules get screwed over very easily. I assumed ownership of Felix, and he’s been my guard cat ever since. He’s there to greet me every night, crooning his meows, and swatting his tail on my pant leg hinting at his need for food. Subtlety is not one of his feline traits.

  The next day by the afternoon, I finally found her. Well, sort of, she was away with family for the week, and would be back on Monday. I was at the Raving Mad a club on Sixth Avenue, off Spring Street. It was four in the afternoon, and it was starting to fill with men needing their fix of tits and ass for the day before they went home to the little wife. It was dark, and had smells that were not always pleasant to the nose. It wasn’t as bad as some I’ve had occasion to frequent, but I wouldn’t give them the “sweet as a rose” award either. There were two ringside style stages with a bartender stationed in each one to keep the alcohol flowing to the customers. I’d asked to speak to Tawnee’s friend, Charlie, for any information she could provide. The Cadillac sized bouncer lumbered off to the back of the club. The loud music was pounding at me as I watched a blonde, probably a college girl, down to nothing shaking her tail feathers in front of a sixty year old man.

  I watched his steady, but liver spotted hand, find the elastic band of her G-String to insert his one dollar bill.

  I heard the fake bead curtains clacking to my left, where the bouncer had disappeared into. He returned with a bombshell of a woman. Charlie, modified from Charlene, was a six foot redhead. Even at her height she walked with the grace of a model.

  “You must be the cop that wants information on Tawnee.”

  “The very one, let’s get down to it since I know time is money.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it’s all about, honey.”

  Tawnee may have been in her late thirties although after a couple of tummy tucks and boob enhancements, she may have been closer to her early forties. Her G-string wasn’t even close to hiding her natural charm, and her top was barely able to hold the girls in check as they wobbled with her every move she made.

  “We found the body of Sharon Keller two days ago, and we’re trying to find out about her so we can hopefully track down her killer. We’re looking for any and all information we can get to help us. I was told by my source that Tawnee was her friend, and I need to speak to her when she gets back in town. Did you know Sharon by any chance?”

  I could tell the news had its affect on Charlie. Her smartass look had washed off her face, replaced with sadness as her eyes were starting to tear up.

  “I didn’t know her well, but I worked with her my first year in this line. Yeah, she and Tawnee were close. Some said they had more going than just being friends, but I never seen them getting touchy feely.”

  “Do you remember anything at all about maybe clients that always seemed to be around her or maybe even dates she had with a regular?”

  Charlie sipped her cheap champagne as she stared at me and her eyes got redder.

  “She was a popular girl back then. A lot of the men were anxious to catch her eye. She had a nice rack, and a butt to die for. She got herself tanned up in the summer, and the men love that all over tan look, you know. Anyway, there was one guy who always used to send a limo for her. It would pick her up after her late shift, and take her away. I never saw him inside. I think he was somewhere else all together. Tawnee might know.”

  She sat silent for a minute or so, we both glanced at a large breasted black gal that was being pul
led around the runway by her gigantic breasts. I had to look away. I like women, but not like that.

  “The limo service was Towne and Country. I remember because their logo was one of them Tara looking old southern homes, and I remember wishing I’d lived back in that time so I could be in one of those homes. He was a short black guy that had a wise mouth on him that was always sniffin’ around the girls, when he’d, sometimes, come in looking for Sharon. I’m sorry that’s all I can remember. It was a long time ago, at least for me it is.”

  “This was good stuff Charlie. Tell Tawnee that I’ll be in to see her on Monday.”

  “I slid a fifty across the bar, and under the tip of her fingers that were resting on the bar.”

  She looked down and started to slide it back, but I put my hand on top of hers to stop her, and she spoke.

  “I can’t take this. This was for Sharon, no charge.”

  I slowly pushed it back towards her.

  “A girl’s gotta’ make a living Charlie. You’ve been a big help, thanks.”

  “I’ll let Tawnee know about you lookin’ for her.”

  I got off my stool and walked along the now full bar area with all the men laughing, or gawking at the naked women patrolling the raised bars. The pounding music was giving me a headache. It was time to leave. We all have our outlets, but I’ve never liked these places. I think they were why the word “sleazy” was coined.