* * *
EDWARD D. HOCH
1954
WHEN I FIRST saw Jade Kashi she was singing at a nightclub in the Laurel Canyon district, not far from the house I was renting at the time. She was a shapely Oriental girl with straight black hair just long enough to tickle her bare shoulders, and she sang like an angel in a strapless gold gown that was slit up the right leg to her hip.
I was thinking about inviting her over to my table when she finished and maybe she could read my mind. After the last set she gave a deep bow to the audience and headed right for me. “You’re Philip Marlowe, aren’t you?” she asked in a voice as sweet as her songs.
“Yeah, I’m Marlowe.”
“Could I sit down for a moment?”
“Sure. What are you drinking?”
“Nothing, thank you. They told me you sometimes come in here. I want to hire you.”
“Who told you? Reggy?” The nightclub was called Reggy’s Place, and it was owned by an Englishman named Reggy Maitland. You could find people around town who’d tell you Reggy had mob money behind him, but that was none of my affair.
“Yes, I believe he mentioned it.” Her English was flawless. “I have a younger brother named Lien. He travels with a bad crowd and I am worried for his safety. If you could help him—us—I would pay you.”
“Just about every woman in this town with a younger brother thinks he travels with a bad crowd,” I told her. “Most of them turn out all right.”
“His best friend was murdered two nights ago.”
“Well, that makes a difference. Was he Chinese like your brother?”
“We are Korean,” she corrected me.
“Korean? We just fought a war there.”
“I know. I should say our parents are Korean. Lien and I were both born in Hawaii. Our parents still live there. We moved to Los Angeles a few years ago after he finished high school, but my career has advanced faster than his.”
“What does he want to do?”
“Act in the movies, but there just aren’t that many parts for Orientals.”
I gave her a weary smile. I’d been hearing variations on her story all my life. “There’s not much I can do. Who was this friend that got himself killed?”
“His name was Mickey O’Brian. He was beaten to death in an alley about a mile from here, Sunday night while I was working.”
I thought it odd that a Korean youth and an Irishman had been such good friends. “How’d they know each other?”
“They worked together at a shop that manufactures costume jewelry. The police have some crazy idea they might be linked to recent thefts of real jewelry, and now they’re questioning Lien about the killing.”
“Who’s the detective on the case?” My relations with the L.A.P.D. were far from friendly of late, but I figured it didn’t hurt to ask.
“Sergeant Green. Do you know him?”
I nodded. “He’s halfway human. He watched another cop beat me once, but at least he didn’t join in.”
“Will you talk to him, before something happens to my brother?”
“What do you think might happen?”
“Somebody might kill him like they did his friend. Or the police might decide to pin the killing on him.”
“Where is he now?”
“At work. He’s been going in nights this week. It’s the Galaxy Jewelry Company.” She gave me the address, in a seedy area of downtown Los Angeles.
Jade Kashi’s slit skirt had fallen away from her leg, and I studied the inviting curve of her thigh for a long moment. “I’ll look into it,” I said finally. “I can’t promise anything.”
As I was leaving the club a few minutes later, Reggy Maitland himself stopped me at the door. “It’s always good to see you, Marlowe. You bring a touch of class to my place.”
I waited for him to get to the point. “You need a lot more than I can offer, Reggy.”
He smoothed the hair back from his forehead in a familiar gesture. Usually it meant he was nervous about something. “I saw you talking to Jade. You want her to drink with you?”
“I can arrange my own dates, thanks.”
“Jade’s nice to look at, but I wouldn’t want to get too involved with her. She’s North Korean, you know.”
“The war’s over, Reggy.”
I went out the door leaving him standing there.
The Galaxy Jewelry Company was on the fringes of Chinatown, not far from City Hall. It was an area of light industry and import-export firms, and there wasn’t much doing there after dark. All the buildings on the block were closed for the night, and Galaxy Jewelry was no exception. I walked around the two-story structure, checking the doors, and then got back in my car. Whatever Lien Kashi did at night, he wasn’t working at Galaxy.
I turned onto Alameda Street and decided I was only a few blocks from police headquarters. It was as good a time as any to check the reports on the death of Mickey O’Brian. When I got there I asked for Sergeant Green and received a sour look from the other detectives in the squad room. “Green,” one of them called out. “You got a visitor.”
He came around the partition that separated his office and stared at me. It took him just an instant to remember who I was. “Well, Marlowe! Good to see you again. Come on in.”
“There’s nobody with a sap waiting to work me over?”
He laughed at that. “The chief is retiring. I think there’ll be some changes in the routine soon. What can I do for you?” He had gray-blond hair and patient eyes, waiting to see what I wanted this late in the evening.
“A young guy named Mickey O’Brian was killed two nights ago. I hear it’s your case.”
“O’Brian, yeah. What about it?”
“He worked with a Korean kid named Lien Kashi. The Korean’s sister sings at Reggy’s Place and she’s worried about him. She asked me to look into it.”
“She’s got reason to be worried. Right now her brother’s a prime suspect in the killing.”
“Has he been arrested?”
“Not yet, but we’ve questioned him. It seems the two of them went to a bar the other night after work. They left the place around ten o’clock and Kashi says they separated at the corner. About an hour later we got a report of an assault in the area. A patrol car found Mickey O’Brian badly beaten and near death in an alleyway. He died a few hours later in the hospital without regaining consciousness.”
“Sounds like a mugging to me.”
“Yeah, except that his wallet wasn’t touched. He had forty-four dollars in it. We’re looking into reports that O’Brian and Kashi had been arguing earlier that evening.”
“What about?”
Green’s eyes hardened a bit. “I’ve told you enough already. Fill me in on this sister.”
“Her name is Jade. She’s got a good voice.”
“Good-looking?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to go question her myself.”
I took out my pipe and began filling the bowl from my tobacco pouch. “Any idea what sort of weapon was used on this O’Brian kid?”
“A length of lead pipe. We found it in the alley.”
“Did the people who called in the report give any description of the killer?”
“Someone heard O’Brian’s groans a little before eleven and found him in the alley. They didn’t see the assault.”
“Jade Kashi says you think her brother is involved in some jewel robberies.”
“We questioned both Kashi and O’Brian recently. I wasn’t involved personally because it wasn’t a homicide, but there’s a suspicion that Galaxy Jewelry or its employees might be involved in a string of robberies from the homes of movie stars. A Galaxy matchbook was found near one scene. The latest robbery was Sunday night. A big guy with a gun held up Mrs. Roger West, the actor’s wife, at her Malibu home and got away with a pearl necklace and some other things.”
I puffed on my pipe and thought about it. Finally I said, “Thanks, Green. I’ll return the favor someday.”
In the morning I stopped by the office and checked the mail. There was nothing but bills. I took a swig from the bottle in the bottom drawer of my desk and remembered I hadn’t even asked Jade for a retainer. I was getting forgetful in my old age.
I drove over to Galaxy Jewelry and parked next to the shiny white Caddy in the lot. It occupied a space next to the front door which was marked Reserved for Mr. Brian Lightner. I went in and asked for him. The blonde receptionist studied me like she was trying to guess the price of my suit. “You got an appointment?”
“No, but I think he’ll see me. The name’s Philip Marlowe.” I passed her one of my cards.
She returned after a few minutes and ushered me down a corridor with bumpy brown linoleum on the floor. Lightner’s office was done up in a sort of pseudo-art deco, something left over from a bargain basement in the 1930’s. He glanced at me from beneath heavy eyelids and didn’t bother to rise. “You’re Marlowe?”
“That’s right. Thanks for taking the time to see me.”
“What is this, an insurance investigation?”
“No, I’m looking into the killing of one of your employees the other night—Mickey O’Brian.”
“What’s the matter, the police shorthanded?”
“I’m trying to help a client. What can you tell me about the victim?”
Lightner shrugged and bit on his cigar. “I got nearly thirty people working for me. I don’t know them all. He did his job.”
“What about Lien Kashi?”
“Yeah, the Chink.”
“Korean,” I corrected, feeling I owed that to my client.
“Same thing. I guess the two of them were friends, from what I hear.”
“Is Lien working today?”
“He should be.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“I guess so. Come on.”
He stood up finally, a squat middle-aged man with food stains on his trousers. “What do you make here?” I asked. “Costume jewelry?”
“Imitation pearls.”
“Are those like cultured pearls?” I’d encountered fake pearls on other cases, but I’d decided to play dumb.
He shot me a look that seemed to say he’d love to take my money on the spot. “No, no—cultured pearls are ones induced to form inside an oyster by adding a grain of sand or some other irritant. Imitation or artificial pearls are just painted glass beads.”
We passed down a line of male and female workers, mostly young and foreign—Mexicans, Orientals. I wondered how many of them were in the country illegally. I also wondered what someone with a name like O’Brian was doing working among them. Finally we stopped before a slender young Korean. “Lien, here’s someone to see you.”
I introduced myself and asked him what he was doing with the trays of clear glass beads before him. Lightner took over the explanations. “He’s preparing to color the beads by dipping them in a solution called ‘essence d’orient.’ It’s a preparation derived from the scales of fish. There—you see! They emerge from their bath looking like pearls. Now we simply string them together and the result is a fine pearl necklace. It wouldn’t fool a jeweler, of course, or anyone familiar with real pearls, but for the costume jewelry market they’re just fine.”
“This is your job?” I asked Lien Kashi. “You do this?”
“Yes,” he answered with a touch of pride. “You want to see me?” His English was good but not quite as pure as his sister’s.
Lightner moved on down the line, chatting with the other workers. “I’m working for your sister,” I told Lien. “She’s worried about you.”
His face hardened. “She has no need to worry. She leads her own life.”
“She told me about your friend who was murdered. Any idea why it was done?” He hesitated about answering and I gestured toward a coffee machine standing against the nearby wall. “Come on, I’ll buy you some coffee and we can chat.”
The paper cup of coffee relaxed Lien a bit and soon I had him talking about his sister and his early days in Hawaii. The conversation flowed naturally into his friendship with Mickey O’Brian. “He started working here just a few months ago, but we were good friends from the start.”
“Did you ever fight with him?”
“No.”
“The police think you argued with O’Brian early on the night he was killed.”
“They tell lies! They try to say Mickey and I steal pearl necklace from movie star! They say we fight over loot and maybe I kill him, but none of that is true!”
“All right.” I was beginning to get the picture, but the focus wasn’t quite sharp enough yet. “Who do you think killed him?”
“There is a bad man named Cusoltz. He threatened us once.”
“Cusoltz.” The name meant nothing to me. “When was this?”
“One night a few weeks ago. I saw him hanging around the parking lot outside.” He was calmer now, more in control. “I asked what he wanted and he shoved me, told me to mind my own business. When Mickey came running up he punched him, knocked him to the ground. He called him bad names.”
“Like what?”
“He called him a fairy,” Lien answered quietly.
“How did you find out Cusoltz’s name?”
“Mickey knew it. He met him in a bar called the Golden Parrot.”
I knew the place. It was a homosexual hangout. “They knew each other?”
“Not well,” Lien insisted. “Mickey would never be friends with a man like that.”
“What does Cusoltz look like?”
“A gorilla!” the Korean spat out. “A big hairy one.”
“One more question—where were you last night when you told your sister you were working?”
He looked away. “I went to a bar.”
“The same bar where Mickey met Cusoltz?”
Lien glanced around nervously. “I must get back to work. Mr. Lightner is watching us.”
I let him go and stopped to speak with Lightner at the door. “He was very helpful.”
“Yeah?”
“He mentioned a man named Cusoltz who threatened Mickey and him. Does the name mean anything to you?”
“Not a thing,” Lightner replied.
That evening I went back to Reggy’s Place to report to Jade Kashi and speak to her about a retainer. I’d been spending more time on her problem than I’d planned, and I couldn’t afford free jobs anymore. The sign outside, which I hadn’t noticed before, announced, Jade Kashi, the Korean Kutie—Every Night at 8 and 11. Closed Mondays.
I sat through her first show, listening to the familiar renderings of popular show tunes. Tonight she wore a silver gown just as striking as the gold one, and the colored spotlight bathed it in changing hues to complement the style of the song. She was too good for Reggy’s Place and I wondered what kept her there.
When she came over to my table after the set I gave her a quick version of what little I’d learned. She sat leaning forward, her hands tightly clasped, as she listened to every word. “I know this man Cusoltz,” she said finally. “He used to come around here occasionally. I haven’t seen him lately.”
“Did your brother ever mention him?”
“Not to me.”
I glanced at my watch. “You’re off till eleven now?”
“Yes.”
“Want to get something to eat?”
She searched my face for some hidden meaning to the invitation, and I wondered if she got this from guys all the time. Finally she shook her head. “I’d better not. Reggy might not like it.”
“What’s he to you?”
She shrugged. “He pays the bills.”
“All the bills?”
“Pretty much.”
It explained why she stayed at Reggy’s Place. “Does your brother approve of the arrangement?”
“I look after him, but he never says much about my life.”
“Too bad you don’t have an older brother.
”
“You applying for the job, Mr. Marlowe?”
I laughed and got up from the table. I could see Reggy Maitland eyeing me from across the room. “I’ll see you around, Jade.”
“Be careful,” she warned.
Maitland intercepted me on my way to the door. “She isn’t your type, Marlowe.”
“I never said she was.”
“Find yourself another client.”
“That’s always good advice. Thanks, Reggy.”
I went outside and crossed the dimly lit parking lot to my car. There was some movement reflected in the car window that warned me in time, and I half turned just as a shiny leather-covered sap swung down at my head. I took the blow on the shoulder, feeling a stab of pain shoot down my arm. I thought it was a cop at first and I hesitated a split second. Then I saw the gorillalike shape of the guy and knew that I’d come face to face with Cusoltz.
I locked onto his arm as he raised it again, and I brought it down hard on the hood of my car. He yowled and dropped the sap, but he wasn’t done fighting yet. I backed off but he came at me like a tank, barreling into my gut and knocking the wind out of me. I staggered back, clutching the car for support, and he rammed his hamlike fists into my face. I went down hard on the cinders and lay there waiting for him to come in close.
He fooled me and went for his gun. I tried to turn over and reach my own .38 special, but there wasn’t time. I saw the barrel leveled at me like a rat’s eye and heard Cusoltz bark, “Say your prayers, Marlowe!”
Then suddenly Jade was behind him, swinging the sap as if it were a baseball bat. It hit the back of his head and he fell on his face. “Are you all right?” she asked, tossing the sap to the ground next to him.
“I am, thanks to you. That was some rescue.”
“I saw Reggy talking to you and I followed you to find out what he said. I was just in time to see Cusoltz trying to kill you.”
“And we haven’t even been introduced.” I tried to stand up but I hurt in too many places. “Take my key and get the pint of Canadian Club out of the glove compartment, will you? I could use a swig.”
She did as I asked and I took a long one before offering the bottle to her. “No,” she declined. “I have to work again. Let me help you up.”
Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe Page 31
