Frankly, My Detective

by Mary Keeley

“Yeah, Cosmo, his bunch, and Monroe are gonna spend a lot of time in 9-by-12 suites at the gray brick resort, but seems to me you got the better part of the deal.” He grumbled and picked at his covers.

  Scarlett frowned and plopped down on the bed at his feet, ignoring his wince. “Why so, Cliffie? Oh, is it because of the money? Is that it? Now you know that was my deal with Lizette all along. I find out what Yano was up to and proved he broke the pre-nup, so I got the big check, thanks to great work by my lawyer buddies. What’s the big deal? You got the credit for finding Monroe, the mole, didn’t you? I thought I made that clear to ugly old Chang.”

  Dawson sighed and rubbed his side. “Yeah, matter of fact, that’s why Chang was here.” He looked down and spoke softly, a blush creeping over his face and onto his bald pate. “Looks like I’m in for a commendation, promotion to Detective 1st and, well, a raise. ’Cause of, you know, the Monroe thing and stuff. So I guess I owe ya, Salerno.”

  Scarlett whooped and bounced up and down on the bed, causing Dawson to yelp and hold his side. “Oh, sorry, Cliffie! I’m just so excited for you. That’s great news. And hey, you don’t owe me nothin’. Wasn’t for you, my mama would’ve been, well…” Her voice trailed off and they looked at each other for a long, awkward moment. “So let’s call it even, O.K.”

  He gave her a crooked smile and cleared his throat. “Deal. Now what’s in the box?”

  “Oh, yeah, almost forgot. Mama made cannolis for you.” She opened the box, pulled out a tiny plate, and put a fresh cannoli on it, and handed it to him as if it were a sacred object. “These are the BEST you will ever eat, guaranteed.” She smiled and nodded in anticipation of his reaction.

  Dawson picked up the cannoli carefully and took a bite. His eyes bugged with pleasant surprise as he tasted the rich, flaky crust, and the smooth, creamy filling. “Oh my God, Scar!” he mumbled around a glorious mouthful. “These things should be illegal.” He devoured the rest of the confection and licked his fingers. He grinned when he saw there were three more in the container. Scarlett nodded and smiled back at him.

  As he wiped his mouth with the napkin she handed him, he shook his head and said, “You know, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  Scarlett’s eyes widened. She laughed with complete delight. “Cliffie, do you mean it? Or are you just quoting the movie? You and me, a beautiful friendship?”

  “Nah, I just meant me, your mama, and the cannoli.”

  EPILOGUE

  Scarlett took a sip of the deliciously potent black coffee and smiled. The morning sun on the terrace was warm on her shoulders. She inhaled deeply. The air was clean and fresh with a slight scent of rosemary and rich loamy earth from the herb garden below. The apartment was on the upper floor an old house. Their landlady cultivated vegetables and herbs for herself and her tenants. They made every meal an exquisite adventure. Picking up the letter she’d brought with her, she slit open the envelope with a table knife and began to read.

  My dear friend Scarlett,

  How I love your name! I hope this find you well and you forgive my bad English. I am learning to write better. The night school here helps me. Here! Here am I at last in the city I dream about for long time. Hollywood! Well, close, yes? Universal City is neighbor to Hollywood. I see sign each day.

  My job here at restaurant Hard Rock Hollywood is so close to Universal Studios. When I have day off, I walk and walk all around and sometimes even go to Studios for fun. But I save my money, just like you advise. I go to classes to be better in English, yes, but also to learn to become U.S. Citizen! Yes, my friend—a surprise for you! I wish to be American. Maybe someday I get to work in big movie studio, even. I take your good advice, yes??

  Family I stay with, like you say, are good people. They run from Russia like me, but have better luck since they educated and able to get good work in international law firm here. They understand me and treat me like daughter. I am so grateful I have such good sponsors. (That is right word, yes?) I have nice room of my own and am learning much from them.

  I talk on phone each week with Malaya. She sends you much love from San Francisco. Her nursing school is very hard, she says, but she so happy. Auntie she live with is good to her. She sleeps in real bed in her own room, not on lumpy sofa like before. Like me, she is so grateful to you for help and for the extra money you give us both to get what you say is fresh start. She will write soon, she promise. Malaya say she pray for you and your mama every night. I not good at praying, but I send good wishes and thoughts to you both always. Never will I be able to thank you for all you do for us. You save our lives and so we all belong to each other somehow. Is that how you think, too? I hope so. I must go now so letter will be mailed before my work begins. I hope you enjoy yourself and I will write again. Maybe better English next time?

  Malaya says God Bless You all the time. I think that is right thing to say to you now.

  Your Friend,

  Galina

  “Hey, Bella Mia! Are we going to go shopping on the Ponte Vecchio or what? I’d like to see the Pitti Palace today, too? Are you going to get ready, huh?” Rosa came out on the terrace, purse in hand, sun hat at a jaunty angle on her silvery head.

  Scarlet smiled, folded the letter and put it back in the envelope and stood. “Yep, Mama, I’ll get ready, but you know, the best gelataria here in Florence is right by the Ponte Vecchio. Might just have to stop there first.” Seeing the letter and the return address, Rosa looked up at Scarlett, brow furrowed. “Was it all worth it, Honey? They’ll be okay, right?” She came to stand next to her daughter.

  “Yes, they’re fine. And yes, it was worth it.” Together they looked over the red tiled roofs of Florence. The bells at the Duomo rang in the distance. Rosa grasped her daughter’s hand, sighed and said. “Grazie, Bella Mia. Ti Voglio Bene.”

  Kissing her mother’s small hand, Scarlett replied, “I love you, too, Mama.”

  She picked up the letter and her espresso cup and began to follow Rosa into the living room of the apartment when her cell phone began to buzz. She glanced down at the caller’s name.

  “Andiamo, Figlia Mia! (Let’s go, my daughter!)” Rosa called from inside.

  “Adesso, Mama, Adesso! (Now!)” She pushed ‘decline’ on the screen, turned off the phone, smiled once more at the rooftops of Florence and hurried inside.

  AFTERWORD

  This is a work of fiction, meant to entertain. However, I hope it enlightens, in some small way, the readers to the horrific crime and practice of Human Trafficking. This dreadful practice is happening all over the world and the United States is not immune to its evil. The ‘Task Force’ mentioned in this work was real, as was the, at the time, lukewarm response. Today, we know there are many people here in the U.S. and all over the world who have come to realize the importance of fighting to stop this horrendous exploitation of both adults and children.

  As I was writing this short novel, Assembly Speaker Toni Atkins of California introduced legislation to provide housing for sexually exploited children and ensure state agencies collaborate to stop this crime. I quote Speaker Atkins:

  Human trafficking is modern day slavery and, unfortunately, this crime is growing rapidly in our state. According to the FBI, the San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego metropolitan areas comprise three of the nation’s 13 areas of ‘high intensity’ child sex trafficking exploitation in the country. Victims of human trafficking are some of our most vulnerable members of society, and we cannot allow this injustice to continue.

  The report that I refer to in the book is entitled: ‘Executive Summary: Human Trafficking in California’. In it is stated the many forms of trafficking and their victims, who are not just children, but also adolescents and adults working in what is tantamount to forced labor in many fields, as the characters of Malaya and Galina. Many of these victims are undocumented immigrants, promised a better life by the smugglers who brought them here for their own financial gain.

  In September 2005, Cal
ifornia enacted its first anti-trafficking law. (Assembly Bill 22, Lieber) to make any form of human trafficking a felony in this state and assist victims in rebuilding their lives. I thank the Legislators of my home state for taking such positive action in combating this horrible crime and urge all citizens of our country to encourage lawmakers to put an end to this modern day practice of slavery.

  Many thanks also to Thornton Sully and the crew at A Word with You Press. I’m grateful for the guidance, interest and PATIENCE you have shown me and Ms. Scarlett as we took this slow journey together.

  And always, my greatest thanks, appreciation and love to my husband and soul mate, Jim Keeley, for his encouragement and belief in me.

  Ti amero per sempre!

  This could be the continuation of a beautiful relationship… Scarlett avoids trouble as much as she avoids Rosa’s cannoli. Here is a taste of her next misadventure…

  Take a seat!

  Graciella started a new 500 piece jigsaw puzzle the same way every time. She was a patient woman who liked to challenge herself.

  She didn’t begin the process by looking for corners like many people would. No, Graciella spread all the pieces on her special table in her modest parlor and would simply leave them there in their colorful, misshaped disarray for several days. She’d pass by each day on her way to some other task, look down at the pieces for a time, pick up one or two pieces, study them, turn them around in her fingers and sometimes set them aside together at one end of the table. There they would sit alone like forgotten acquaintances. This distinctive process would go on for a week, a month, perhaps longer. Graciella never rushed anything.

  “To rush is the sure path to mistakes,” she’d often say.

  This table has only this use. Everyone she knew, her family, friends, business associates, even her fat, decidedly ugly yellow-eyed cat, Ludovico, knew that they disturbed the table at their great peril. Yes, Graciella was a patient, consistent woman, but one known very well in her province here in Sicily and not just for her talent in solving jigsaw puzzles.

  Scarlett’s phone buzzed again. She looked at it, pressed the decline button and took another spoonful of her delicious chocolate hazelnut gelato. She smiled as she watched her mother, Rosa, happily attack her own gelato, eyes closed in gelato-coma rapture.

  “ Dio Mio, this IS the best gelato in Florence, no doubt!”

  “Yep! You know I wouldn’t steer my Mama wrong. Mmmmmmm!” They sat in contented silence for a few delicious minutes. Couples strolled down the arched bridge of the Ponte Vecchio, arms around each other, smiling and chatting. The late afternoon sun shone on the lazy Arno below as small rowboats glided by and young men and women in two-person kayaks raced along, calling out cheerful challenges as they passed each other. Scarlett finished her gelato, sighed and closed her eyes, thinking she had possibly never felt so completely at peace.

  “Scusiami, Signorina, Signora.” Scarlett sat bolt upright. A deep insistent voice pulled her right back into her professional “on alert” mode. Rosa’s

  FRANKLY, MY DETECTIVE

  Mama Instinct felt the tension in her daughter’s posture and went into action. “ Cosa vuoi, Signore?” She sat up straight and glared at the intrusive man. It took her a second or two to realize he was in a policeman’s uniform and the warm Florentine sun suddenly turned cold. The officer ignored her question, and only faced Scarlett.

  “ Sei Signorino Scarlett Salerno?” His tone was all business, his intense dark eyes moving from the notebook in his hand to her face. Scarlett saw her mother pale and then her protective mode rose in a minute and she knew her Italian would fail her, so she improvised.

  “ Ufficiale, Englise per favore. What do you want?” She put her hand out on the table towards her mother as a sign that she had this.

  The officer answered her in polite and very good English, which irritated Scarlett.

  “Permisso, I am Officer Gianni Greco. My supervisore has need to speak with you.”

  Scarlett felt the heat rise in her face. “Your supervisor? What is this about, why do the Florentine police want to speak with me? I’m here with my mother on vacation. Am I being charged with something? No, Officer Greco, I see no need to go with you at all.”

  The officer sighed deeply and quietly asked for her passport. Scarlett balked until another, very tall, large officer with a dark visage and a hefty unibrow walked up to join Officer Greco. Rosa became more disturbed and began speaking in a combination of fast Sicilian dialect and English. Officer Greco addressed both the women in calm tone, one hand palm down, gesturing for both of them to settle. Scarlett had a cold lump in her stomach that had nothing to do with her gelato. Placing her hand on Rosa’s, she shook her head.

  “Calma, Mama. It’s okay, I’ll find out what this is about.” She dug in her purse and handed Greco her passport. He looked at it carefully, compared it to his notes. Without handing it back to her, he put it in his shirt pocket and spoke quietly, noticing they were being watched by people around them. “Please, Signorina, Signora, come with me. I promise you there is no trouble for either of you.”

  Rosa stood, definitely not calm; “Per Che? Why did something happen to Catherine and Evan? What’s going on?”

  Again, Scarlett and Greco spoke softly, trying to calm her. Scarlett went to Rosa and put her arm around her shoulders. “Officer, my sister and her husband are in the U.S., but will be traveling to Italy in a few weeks to join us. Is this about them, are they safe?”

  Greco came close to both of them. “Signora, Signorina, I promise no harm has come to your family. We have been looking for you and I am under the strictest orders to bring you to my supervisor. I can only tell you

  it is a matter of great, even international importance. Believe me, Signorina Salerno, all this will make sense when we are at the station and my superior can explain. We must avoid a scene! If only you had answered your telephone!”

  Scarlett closed her eyes, gave her mother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and said, ‘Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mary L. Keeley was born in New

  Orleans, but has lived in San Diego, California since early childhood. Her lifelong love of books began when her big sister, Pat, taught her to read at a very young age. In fact she has no memory of NOT being able to read. The love of motion pictures came also at a young age, as soon as she was judged old enough to walk to the neighborhood Crest Theater on University Avenue in East San Diego.

  The theater is long gone, and the neighborhood is now called University Heights, but the memory and fascination with cinema remains. Those Saturday Matinees definitely contributed to both her imagination and her love of good writing, snappy dialog and the sassy dames who spit out those great lines.

  Always desiring to write herself, Mary loved any writing assignment given in school and is grateful to the teachers who encouraged and appreciated her efforts. Marriage and raising 4 wonderful sons often put writing literally on the shelf. Fortunately Mary’s work often kept her writing, but in a different mode. She has written for in house publications for San Diego County Library as well as reviews for documentary films made specifically for libraries. She has been published in Westways Magazine and has selfpublished a short memoir entitled “Time in the Middle” about traveling by car across country from 1955 to 1963, before the time of completed interstate highways AND videos in cars that kept kids occupied. She has written a yet unpublished novel set in Ireland, which has absolutely no reference at all to motion pictures, but there may be a few ghosts lingering about.

  Frankly, My Detective is her first published novel.

  A word about…

  A Word with You Press Editors and Advocates of Fine Stories in the Digital Age

  A Word with You Press is a playful, passionate, and prolific consortium of writers, editors, designers and publishers who have been helping authors like yourself achieve their goals since 2009. We are drawn to the notion that nothing is more
beautiful or powerful than a story well told. We help you tell it.

  Writers and artists don’t just happen; they are created by nurturing, mentoring, and by damn good editing. We provide this literary triad through our interactive website, www.awordwithyoupress.com. Our regular writing contests give you an opportunity to hone your skills, and get both professional and peer feedback, as your entries are published on the site and invite commentary.

  We have helped first-time authors become award-winners, and we, ourselves, have won awards for writing, editing, and publishing excellence.

  The first step to writing your novel? Intent. If you’ve got it, let’s talk.

  Send inquiries to Thornton Sully, at thorn@awordwithyoupress.com

  Thornton Sully has Jack

  Londoned his way across the globe (most recently, Prague) sleeping with whatever country would have him, and picking up stray stories along the way. A litter of dog-eared passports that have taken up residence in his sock drawer are a constant temptation.

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