I heard Frankie say, "Moonlight on the cloud tops is somethin', ain't it?"
I stood and turned. In the dim cabin light, I could see him grinning. I nodded. "Yeah. Anything to report?"
He sighed. "Not really. I don't think he's here. No one matches his description."
"What about the three occupied berths?"
"One man, about 5'8". Two gals, both definitely women."
"You sure?"
Frankie grinned. "The one in the upper berth, above Maria's, had some potential so Maria pulled the curtain back and caught the gal in a state of undress. You didn't hear the ruckus that caused?"
I laughed. "No. The engines are too loud."
Frankie nodded. "I went over and apologized and slipped the gal a hundred, one of the ones you gave me. She got real quiet after that."
I grinned and then thought for a moment. "Well, maybe he's already back home. If he was following us to or from Grafton yesterday, I'd think one of us would've noticed it. Particularly with how Carter took so many back roads across New Hampshire."
Frankie nodded. "He could've gone over to Albany. He could've gotten into Canada. But, like you told us, his photo is in circulation."
I shrugged. "I doubt that means much. He seems to be good at only being seen when he wants to be seen."
. . .
We landed at just past 5. As we walked down the stairs to the tarmac, I noticed it was chilly but it wasn't cold, like it had been in Vermont. The sky was clear and the moon was just above the coastal hills to the west.
Much to my surprise, we found Ferdinand waiting for us inside the terminal building. He was dressed in his green chauffeur's uniform, complete with the boots that I was always drawn to. Carter knew how I felt about them. He'd bought a pair just for fun. When he saw Ferdinand moving towards us, he nudged me and whispered, "Keep it cool, Frankie. Keep it cool."
I laughed as Ferdinand walked up and said, "Good morning, Mr. Nick and Mr. Carter."
I replied, "Morning, Ferdinand. You didn't have to come get us."
He stiffened. "It is my job, is it not?"
I nodded and said, "Yeah. Thanks, anyway."
Ferdinand and Carter brought our valises over to my big Buick Roadmaster. Carter sat up front with Ferdinand while I sat on the driver side in the backseat with Frankie in the middle and Maria behind Carter.
As we pulled out, I said, "Ferdinand, keep an eye on any suspicious cars that begin to follow us."
"Yes, Mr. Nick. I have already been informed of this by Mr. Robertson."
"Oh," said Carter. "Now I get it. He told you to come get us, didn't he?"
"I am sworn to not speak of such a thing." For one of the few times since I'd known Ferdinand, I heard a trace of humor in his voice as he said, "But if I were to speak of such a thing, I would tell you that he called us last night and told me to do this thing."
We all laughed.
I said, "That's good, Ferdinand." Later, Carter told me that the kid got a big smile on his face when I said that.
Chapter 13
1198 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, Cal.
Saturday, March 12, 1955
Just past noon
Once we got home that morning, Carter and I took a long shower and climbed into bed. After some fooling around, I fell asleep and was dead to the world until a knock on the bedroom door woke me up.
I sat up and asked, "Who is it?"
Gustav poked his head inside the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Nick. May I come in?"
I nodded and stretched. "Where's Carter?"
"He has taken Ferdinand to the Sugar Joe's. Not the old one, the new one."
Technically, the new Sugar Joe's was my gymnasium. Fifteen months earlier, I'd staked one of our friends, Ivan "Ike" Kopek, and he'd opened it. The old Sugar Joe's was South of the Slot, over on Mission. The new one was in North Beach, on Columbus. It was doing great business. When we were in town, Carter had been keeping an eye on things, along with Sam Halversen, Ike's much older boyfriend, who had been childhood friends back in Czechoslovakia with Mrs. Kopek, Ike's mother and our housekeeper. Ike, unfortunately, was doing time down at Soledad state prison for charges related to distribution of pornographic material, something he'd copped to and got six months for. Ike had already paid me off for what I'd staked him but he'd transferred the business to me for the duration. Robert Evans was managing the books, since the place was now another of my properties, while Paul Loyo, a Mexican kid Sam knew, was managing the business. From what Carter and Sam had said, he was doing a good job. Meanwhile, Ike still had five months or so left on his sentence.
"When will they be back?"
Gustav, who was standing just inside the door, looking spiffy as always in his morning suit, sighed, "I do not know."
I tried not to roll my eyes. "What happened?"
"Oh, it is that William. He come every day to look at the trees. To water them. To feed them. Like they are his babies. And then Ferdinand." He crossed his arms. "He look at William."
I laughed. "Well, William does have a nice ass."
Gustav shook his head. "This is not loyal of Ferdinand. Mr. Nick, will you not go to William and tell him not to come every day?"
"Is he here?"
"Yes, he is."
I sighed. "Fine. Lemme wash my face and get dressed."
Gustav smiled and said, "Thank you, Mr. Nick."
I pushed back the covers, wearing nothing and he made a quick exit, closing the door behind him.
. . .
I stood in the great room and watched William through the garden door. He was a handsome kid, there was no doubt. And I suspected he either knew how to sew or knew someone who would take in his work coveralls. Whoever it was had made his ass look like something he was selling.
I noticed that Mrs. Kopek was walking around the back part of the garden. I had a feeling she was keeping an eye on him, as much as anything.
I walked out onto the brick patio as he was bending over, looking at the base of one of the cherry trees in its planter. "Good afternoon, William. How are you?"
He looked over at me without standing up. I would have sworn he wiggled his ass in my direction, but I couldn't be sure. He grinned at me and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Williams. Welcome back from your trip. Ferdinand told me that you and Mr. Jones were somewhere back east."
"Yeah. And it was cold. We're both glad to be home."
Right then, Mrs. Kopek walked past me and back into the house. She passed me a pursed-lip look that made her suspicions as clear as day.
William stood and turned to face me. He reached into his coverall pocket and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. "Gotta light, Mr. Williams?" he asked with a grin.
I pulled out my beat-up Zippo, walked over, lit it, and offered it to him.
He held my hand as he leaned into the flame to light up. He also kept his eyes locked on mine the whole time, not once looking at the lighter or the flame. The whole thing felt rehearsed. I didn't like that and I was beginning not to like him.
The kid was too young, too short, and too Hollywood for my taste but I thought I'd give him a little rope and see how easily he would hang himself.
"So, I hear you've been coming over every day to check on the trees." I looked at the one behind him. "How long before they bloom?"
He took a deep puff and looked at me, unblinking. "About a couple of weeks, I'd guess." That time, instead of a full-on, happy-to-see-you grin, he gave me half a smile. He was trying to do smoldering and it wasn't half bad. As he breathed out a small cloud of blue smoke, he asked, "Where's Mr. Jones?"
"He's off at the gymnasium."
"With Ferdinand?"
I nodded.
He suddenly switched to wide-eyed kid in the big city. "Gee, Mr. Williams, aren't you afraid of the two of them being off together like that?" He took another puff, off to the side, never once taking his eyes off of me.
I shook my head. "Nope. For one, they have a compatibility problem, if you kn
ow what I mean."
Williams laughed. "Oh, I guess they do, don't they?" He stepped in a little closer. "I know you might be surprised, but I swing both ways." He said that as if he was the male version of Ava Gardner.
"That so?" I asked, standing my ground.
"Uh huh. I can give as well as take." He looked around for a moment, as if to see if anyone was watching. He stepped in closer, almost right on top of me. I was about to pull my right hand back for one of my famous right hooks, when I had a sickening thought. What if Ricky could see us? I didn't think it was possible, but what if it was? If I gave this kid the sock he deserved, it could be his death sentence.
Instead of socking him, I put my hand on the back of his neck and smiled. In a very quiet voice, I said, "You have no idea how dangerous this is, kid."
"Why?" he grinned back.
"You read the papers?"
He nodded with a small frown. "Sure."
"You hear about the cop in New Hampshire who was murdered in cold blood on Wednesday?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"There's a maniac who's killing people who cross me. I got no beef with you." He tried to pull back but I held him close. "Don't try to pull away. He might be watching us right now. Understand?"
He nodded. I could see pearls of sweat forming on his upper lip.
"So, what I'm going to do in a minute is kiss you on the lips. You're gonna kiss me back on the cheek. Then we're gonna hug for a little while." I took a deep breath. "Got that?"
He nodded.
I let go of his head and stepped back. I leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. I could taste the salt from the sweat that was dripping down his face.
He shakily kissed me on the cheek.
I hugged him for a long moment. As I did, I whispered, "Get your stuff and follow me into the house. Don't say anything and move fast, but not too fast."
I let him go and watched as he put out the cigarette in one of the ashtrays on one of the iron garden tables, picked up a canvas bag, and waited.
I nodded to the right, indicating he should follow me. I walked into the house and past Gustav, who was about to ask something. I put my fingers to my lips and shook my head. He frowned but complied. Once we were in front of my office, I said to William, "Wait here. Don't go anywhere."
He nodded.
I walked into the office and picked up the briefcase of cash that we carried with us. It would need to refilled soon, but there was still about twenty grand inside. I put it on Carter's desk, so that William couldn't see what was inside and pulled out five grand. I reached over and grabbed a white envelope off Carter's desk. Using a pencil, I wrote down Marnie's name and the office phone number.
I walked over to where William was shaking slightly and looking terrified. I handed him the envelope and said, "There's five grand in there. You go home, don't go to work. Call 'em once you get home and tell 'em you quit. You have a car?"
He nodded. "I brought it here."
"Will it get you to L.A.?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Fine. You go home and pack it up. Don't take all day. And then you drive down to L.A. and hole up somewhere in Hollywood with lots of people around. You should be fine once you leave town. You're probably fine, anyway. Just get down there. On Monday, you call the number on the envelope and you talk to the woman whose name I wrote down. She'll be expecting your call. I have a friend who's producing a movie and he'll hire you. Got all that?"
William had stopped shaking and was frowning, instead. "Why are you doing all this?"
"Because I was gonna slug you."
He stepped back. "You were?"
"Sure. If you know anything about me, you should know I'm a one-man kinda guy. I don't worry about Carter and Ferdinand because I know Carter. And save that come hither stuff for the casting couch, only don't try it with my friend." I looked at him closely. He reminded me of Taylor Wells, the only other movie star that I'd known who had that special something that lit up the screen. "You wise up, William, and maybe you'll be the star you should be. You gotta lotta moxie, kid. Just don't waste it. Use it." I sighed. "But, I'm serious about this maniac. So, we're gonna walk outside together and I'm gonna shake your hand and you're gonna give the performance of a lifetime as you skip your way to your car, whistling as you do, and I'm gonna wave at you as if we were the best friends in the world and then, the next time I see you, kid, it better be your face twenty feet tall on some movie screen and not on the cover of a newspaper about a queer deal gone bad. Got that?"
He nodded. "Sure, Mr. Williams. And, uh, thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome, kid. One other thing."
"What's that?"
"You tell anyone, and I mean anyone, that you heard about this maniac from me or that we had any part of this conversation, I'll make sure no one in Hollywood hires you. Understand?"
He nodded.
I patted his cheek. "Shouldn't be too hard to keep another secret for some faggot. Right?"
He smiled at first. It faded as he realized what I was implying.
"Don't worry, kid. I know how Hollywood works." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Now let's go put on a show."
I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch. "Well, good luck, William." I offered my hand and he shook it enthusiastically with a big smile. He was back to young kid in the big city.
"Thanks, Mr. Williams. See you soon." He was on. It was magnificent. Not a trace of fear on his face. I was impressed.
As he walked across Sacramento Street, whistling some tune I didn't recognize, I admired his ass one last time. He climbed into his '49 Mercury Eight convertible while I waved. He cranked the ignition, checked his mirror, pulled out onto the street, and waved goodbye over his shoulder. I did my best to grin and shake my head as if I was really gonna miss the kid. I walked back into the house, closed the front door, and leaned against it, taking a moment to catch my breath and to stop the shaking.
. . .
"We have to do something," I said. "Either that, or I'm just gonna stay in this house until Ricky..." I couldn't think of a way to end that sentence.
Mike was sitting on the Chesterfield while Carter and I were finishing up getting dressed. I'd called Mike as soon as William left. Carter got home about three minutes later and we'd jumped in the shower. By the time we got out, Mike was sitting there, grinning at us and looking both of us up and down as if he had any interest at all, which I knew he didn't.
While we dressed, I filled them both in on what had happened with William. By the time, I was done, Mike's grin was long gone and Carter was frowning.
"What do we do, Mike?" That was Carter.
Mike shrugged. "Other than keep eyes and ears on him, I don't really know. He's back. We don't know when he got in or how he got here, but he was at his office at the Silver Rail last night by midnight."
I looked out the window. It was chilly but it was a beautiful San Francisco day out there. I wondered if he was watching me as I was looking out. I stepped back from the window and sat down next to Mike. Carter sat down next to me. It felt good to be between them.
I said, "I could go down there tonight and talk to him. Tell him to lay off."
Carter put his hand on my knee and said, "No way. I don't want you anywhere near that maniac."
Mike sighed. "That was gonna be my suggestion. He won't hurt Nick. He's protecting him."
Carter shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous. Besides, what if the cops—"
Mike cut him off. "This is way outta their league. They have no idea about his movements. We're watching him constantly, with more people than you can probably imagine. No one else is tracking him."
"What about those rogue Bureau agents?" I asked.
"I'm still not convinced they're involved."
"How did he know we were going to New Hampshire, then?"
"I checked. Captain Kilkenny filed a flight plan. If you know what you're looking for, that's easy enough to check on."
That h
ad never occurred to me even though it should have. I stood and walked over to the wardrobe.
"Whatcha lookin' for, Boss?"
"My shoulder holster." I found it where I left it. I put it out on the bureau. "I'm going tonight, Carter. I'm the only one who can talk to him."
My husband stood and walked over to me. In a very low voice, he asked, "What about me?"
I looked up at him. "What about you?"
He wiped his eyes with the back of his left hand. "Don't I get a say in this?"
I nodded. "Sure. What do you suggest we do otherwise?"
He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. As he thought, he pressed his lips together so tightly that they turned white. Finally, he shook his head. "You're right. You have to go." He pulled me in for a tight hug. "I just wish you didn't."
Into his chest, I said, "You could go with me."
Carter stopped and pulled back. "I could?"
I nodded. "Of course. You should."
From behind Carter, I heard Mike say, "I don't know about that. It might provoke him."
I looked up at Carter. "Not if we play him."
Mike stood and said, "No, absolutely not. He's a loose cannon. You have no idea how he'll react. No, Nick. That's playing with fire. You can't."
I sighed and looked around Carter and up at Mike. "You're probably right. But we know what we're doing." I paused for a moment. "As much as anyone does."
. . .
"How about tomorrow night?" That was Carter. We were in the office. I had the safe in the floor open and was restocking the money briefcase.
The Paradoxical Parent (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 13) Page 14
