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The Dada Caper

Page 2

by Ross H. Spencer


  She said I live just down the street.

  She said next door to Mama Rosa’s grocery store.

  I said I figured you lived just down the street.

  Mary Bright said how could you tell?

  I said I’m a detective.

  I said but I didn’t know your name was Mary Bright.

  Mary Bright ran a pink tongue over soft red lips.

  She said well we learn something every day.

  She said we are never too old to learn.

  When she walked away I noticed that her slacks were very tight.

  Bonzo kept looking back at me.

  10

  …if we didn’t have twicet as many telephones we wouldn’t have half as much trouble…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  Betsy let me in.

  She said I just happened to be looking out.

  She said you nearly got it.

  I said you ain’t just whistling Dixie.

  I said she better take that goddam dog to a psychiatrist.

  Betsy said I’m not talking about the dog.

  She said do you want a drink or a cold shower?

  I shrugged.

  I said what I really had in mind was a hundred bucks.

  Betsy said well there go the day’s profits.

  She took me by the hand.

  She led me into her bedroom.

  She gave me five twenty-dollar bills from a dresser drawer.

  She removed my sports coat and threw it on a chair.

  She unbuttoned my shirt.

  She kissed me.

  She said you poor baby.

  She said baby needs soothing.

  I shrugged.

  I said okay.

  My shirt landed on my sports coat.

  The goddam telephone rang.

  When Betsy hung up she said stick around.

  She said I’ll be back in an hour or so.

  I said in an hour or so I can be drunk at Wallace’s.

  11

  …I knowed a feller what went home early one night…choked to death on a jelly bean…must be a moral there somewheres…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  I didn’t go to Wallace’s.

  I stopped at Spud’s Place.

  The television was out of focus.

  The beer was lukewarm.

  The bartender was going to sleep on his feet.

  I went home.

  I read the feature story in an Eagles magazine.

  I fell asleep on the couch.

  The telephone woke me up about nine o’clock.

  Betsy said I called you at Wallace’s a dozen times.

  I said I wasn’t at Wallace’s.

  Betsy said I think I got that figured out already.

  I said I was at Spud’s Place.

  Betsy said who is Spud?

  I said he was too tired to tell me.

  Betsy said I have something for you.

  I said well bring it around when it stops smoking.

  Betsy said not that you idiot.

  She said business.

  She said I’m sending you a client.

  She said a girl I know.

  I said will she keep until morning?

  Betsy said she’ll be in your office at nine-thirty.

  I said thanks sweetie.

  Betsy said her name is Candi Yakozi.

  I said nobody could be named Candi Yakozi.

  Betsy said good-night Philo.

  12

  …women is very confusing when they is born…from there on in things gets worse…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  Candi Yakozi was about five-five in her four-inch spike heels.

  She had dark brown hair and eyes to match.

  She had a pug nose and a bee-stung lower lip and an intimidating bosom.

  Her purple dress was so tight I could make out her hysterectomy scar.

  She was twenty-five maybe.

  She was also thirty-five maybe.

  She said you are Chance Purdue.

  I said I know it.

  Candi Yakozi said I am Betsy’s friend.

  She said my name is Candi Yakozi.

  She plummeted into the client’s chair.

  She bounced around some.

  Her hysterectomy scar rippled.

  When she was comfortable she said where should I begin?

  I shrugged.

  I said the beginning?

  Candi Yakozi smiled.

  There was a deep dimple in her right cheek.

  She said I’m not sure where the beginning began.

  She said it could have been the middle before I even found out.

  She said which would make it the beginning for me in spite of it being already the middle for him.

  She said I mean as far as I am concerned what with me not really knowing it was the middle instead of the beginning and everything like that.

  She took a very interesting deep breath.

  She said you understand of course.

  I nodded my professional reassurance.

  13

  …women takes longer to say less than practically anybody…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  It turned out there was a man watching Candi Yakozi.

  She told me she couldn’t understand why.

  I could understand why.

  What I couldn’t understand was why she couldn’t understand why.

  I didn’t go into it.

  Candi Yakozi told me she was married.

  She told me she hadn’t seen her husband in several months.

  She told me he was in Montana or Arkansas.

  She said I’m not sure which.

  She said they are so close together and all.

  I said well that’s geography for you.

  Candi Yakozi scowled a perplexed scowl.

  She said yes.

  I said so tell me about the man who is watching you.

  She said well it’s always when it’s dark outside.

  She said like at night and things.

  She said he walks up and down across the street.

  She said every so often a guy in a car stops to talk with him.

  I said what kind of car is it?

  She said oh it is sort of big and black.

  She said like in the gangster movies.

  I said I will make a note of that.

  I made a note of that.

  I said what does he look like?

  She said who?

  She thought about it.

  She said oh him.

  She said he is medium-sized and he smokes cigarettes.

  I said ah ha.

  I said why haven’t you called the cops?

  She said I have more confidence in private detectives.

  She said besides they are so sexy.

  She said I know because I read a lot of private detective stories.

  She said what do you read?

  I said mostly letters from collection agencies.

  I said those and Eagles magazine.

  She said what is Eagles magazine?

  I said it’s a magazine about World War I aviators.

  She said are World War I aviators as sexy as private detectives?

  I said not recently.

  I said tell me about this man.

  Candi Yakozi stood up and stretched.

  She walked to the window.

  She said there is a sparrow on your window ledge.

  I said I know.

  I said he follows me around.

  She said what’s his name?

  I shrugged.

  I said Winston probably.

  She said why Winston?

  I shrugged.

  I said I got to call him something.

  I said why don’t you sit down?

  Candi Yakozi sat down.

  She said I get like all cramped up while sitting down.

  She said you see I prefer lying down to sitting down.

  I said I see.

 
; She said as a matter of fact I prefer lying down to standing up.

  She said do you like lying down?

  I shrugged.

  I said oh it’ll do.

  I said about the man.

  She said he was there again last night.

  She said that’s when I called Betsy.

  She said that will be all you need to know.

  I said yes that wraps it up.

  I said with this wealth of information I should have him on the gallows by dawn.

  Candi Yakozi said I don’t believe in capital punishment.

  She said I don’t believe in religion either.

  She said or bullfighting.

  She said what don’t you believe in?

  I shrugged.

  I said just about everything.

  I said what do you want me to do about the man?

  She said just chase him away or something.

  She gave me her address and her telephone number and seventy-five dollars.

  She said can you start tonight?

  I shrugged.

  I said if I do I’ll have to postpone a big blackmail case.

  14

  …only thing more confusing than a woman is two women…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  It started raining about one o’clock.

  I sat in the office and worked on a half-pint of Sunnybrook.

  After Candi Yakozi I could have used a half-gallon.

  I watched umbrellas blossom down on Dearborn Street.

  I watched a Yellow Cab sideswipe a Checker Cab.

  Later on I watched a Checker Cab sideswipe a Yellow Cab.

  Vengeance is sweet.

  I watched Winston on the window ledge.

  I smoked a pack of cigarettes.

  Betsy called at five o’clock.

  She said how about my girl friend?

  I said oh yes and by the way how about her?

  Betsy said were you able to help her?

  I said it is my professional opinion that Candi Yakozi is beyond help.

  Betsy said I’m concerned about that man watching her.

  I said don’t worry about him.

  I said he’ll be all right if he doesn’t strike up a conversation.

  Betsy said have you been drinking?

  I shrugged.

  I said no more than necessary.

  I said I’m going out there tonight.

  Betsy said hold it.

  She said let’s get this straight.

  She said what you are saying is that you are going to Candi Yakozi’s place.

  I said yes.

  Betsy said and you are going to be in her apartment.

  I shrugged.

  I said probably.

  I said is there something wrong with that?

  Betsy groaned and the line went dead.

  15

  …I ain’t never been afraid of no woman…just terrified a few times…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  The rain stopped at dusk.

  It was a steamy suffocating evening.

  Neon signs were winking on as I drove north to Candi Yakozi’s place.

  The Blinking Dog.

  Ye Olde Hades.

  The Thirsty Knight.

  The Gay Dragon.

  Old Style and Budweiser and Pabst.

  I popped my cassette of Alte Kameraden into the player.

  A friend had taped it for me.

  Alte Kameraden seven and one-half times.

  The Royal Netherlands Guardsmen.

  Music to enlist by.

  It got my adrenaline moving.

  By the time I reached Candi Yakozi’s street I was ready to fight thirty-two Royal Bengal tigers.

  I counted doorways from her address to the corner.

  I parked and walked up the alley to the back door of her garden apartment.

  I knocked lightly.

  The door opened instantly.

  Candi Yakozi was wearing a smile and spike heels and a white sharkskin blouse that came to a screeching halt something like fifteen inches north of her knees.

  It looked like that might be all.

  She took me into the living room.

  She dropped onto a huge white sofa.

  She locked her hands around her knees.

  She drew them up to her chest.

  She rocked back and forth slowly.

  That was all by God.

  I sat down.

  I had to.

  Candi said do you like my white blouse?

  I shrugged.

  I said it’s fine as far as it goes.

  Candi said I am very partial to white.

  She said especially light white.

  I said that’s probably the best kind.

  She had a cute little apartment.

  All fluff and frills and white and pink.

  Candi popped to her feet and went into the kitchen.

  She had the lightning-quick grace of a kitten.

  She came back with a cold bottle of beer.

  She placed it in front of me.

  She sat beside me on the sofa.

  Very close.

  She fired up a brace of cigarettes and handed one to me.

  She said ooh I’m so glad you could get away from that nasty old blackmail case.

  I said it wasn’t easy kiddo.

  I said I had to pull a few strings.

  Candi said the man isn’t out there yet.

  I said let me know when he shows.

  She said do you want some music?

  I shrugged.

  I said do you have a recording of Alte Kameraden?

  Candi said I don’t dig grand opera.

  She got up and found some syrupy stuff on FM.

  Faceless supermarket music.

  She sat beside me again.

  Much closer.

  If possible.

  She said I bet you meet an awful lot of girls.

  I said some.

  The small hand on my knee was soft and very warm.

  Candi said do you take them to bed like the private detectives in the books?

  I shrugged.

  I said well not all at the same time.

  I chuckled a nervous chuckle.

  Candi said I bet you are just peachy in bed.

  I said is he out there yet?

  Candi cocked a Venetian blind slat ever so slightly.

  She said I don’t see him.

  I said well if he was out there you’d see him wouldn’t you?

  Candi said oh sure.

  She said it’s probably too early.

  I said I wish he’d hurry.

  Candi squeezed my leg.

  She had a grip like a seven-hundred-dollar vise.

  She said you didn’t tell me.

  I said I didn’t tell you what?

  She said how you are in bed.

  I said you got another beer?

  Candi whisked into the kitchen.

  On her way back she paused to turn off one of her pink table lamps.

  She put the beer down.

  She sat beside me.

  With her left leg over my right leg.

  I said you could pull a hamstring muscle that way.

  She said aren’t you ever going to tell me?

  I said just what was it you wanted to know?

  Candi said my God for a private detective you sure got a lousy memory.

  I said is he out there yet?

  Candi scrambled to her knees.

  She looked over my shoulder through the aperture in the Venetian blind.

  Her white sharkskin blouse caressed my jowl.

  It made great rasping sounds.

  Her perfume swept over me like a tidal wave.

  My heart sounded like a washtub being beaten with a leg of mutton.

  Candi said not yet.

  I said why that dirty bastard.

  Sweat cascaded from my forehead.

  I said Jesus Christ it’s hot in here.

  Candi said
the thermostat is set at seventy-two.

  I said you can’t always trust them damn things.

  Candi said Betsy told me you are simply wonderful in bed.

  I said yeah well maybe Betsy ain’t such a good judge.

  Candi said she ought to be.

  She said Betsy’s a whore.

  I said call girl.

  I said you’re always supposed to say call girl.

  Candi said Betsy told me you know just what to do for a woman.

  I said my God isn’t that sonofabitch out there yet?

  Candi turned out the other pink table lamp.

  She looked through the Venetian blind.

  She said huh-uh.

  I said how come you turned out the light to look?

  My voice had risen about fourteen octaves.

  Candi said so he can’t see me looking.

  I said how the hell can he see you looking if he isn’t out there?

  Candi said don’t get all excited.

  She said he’ll get here.

  I said I’m not all excited about him getting here.

  I said I’m all excited about him getting here too goddam late.

  The FM was playing “Help Me Make It Through the Night.”

  Candi put her head on my shoulder.

  She hummed part of the bridge.

  She said such a beautiful song.

  She said it has great meaning.

  She said it’s so sexy.

  She said what’s your favorite song?

  I shrugged.

  I said Alte Kameraden.

  I said also “The Teddy Bears’ Picnic.”

  Candi said “The Teddy Bears’ Picnic” can’t be so very sexy.

  I said that just shows how much you know about teddy bears.

  Candi said are you sex-oriented?

  I shrugged.

  She said I am sex-oriented.

  I said I was beginning to wonder about that.

  I said you got another beer?

  Candi said you haven’t finished the first one yet.

  I finished the first one.

  I drank the second in three gulps.

  I said I have this raging thirst.

  I said it’s probably just a relapse.

  I said bubonic plague you know.

  I said if he isn’t out there I’m going looking for him.

  Candi sighed.

  She said I’m going to wear this damned blind out.

  She looked.

  She said well dammit all to hell anyway.

  She said he’s out there.

  16

  …some days when a man gets out of bed firstest thing he should do is crawl under it…

 

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