by Simon Swift
"There's a man in the bar, and he's screaming blue murder. Says he wants to see you and he won't take no for an answer. Says he knows you're here and he must see you." Joe blubbered it all out without even taking a breath. I hadn't told him why I was using his office, he didn't ask. But even Joe could work out that I wasn't taking casual calls.
"Did he say what his business was?" I asked, my fingers curling the trigger of my rod.
"Didn't say. Just that he knows you're here. When I told him he was wrong he got all snippy, shouting and swearing the odds," he paused and looked himself up and down. "He even called me fatso!"
I chuckled before realizing my insensitivity and patted Joe on the shoulder. He took a deep breath, "Errol it looks ugly. He's only a little, tubby guy but I don't like it. He could..."
"Joe calm down!" I again patted him on the shoulder, "I'll sort it. You go through to the office and take Claudia for a coffee or something. She'll argue but tell her not to worry. Tell her I'll see her tonight."
Joe smiled. His face was smiling but his eyes still brimmed with worry. I nodded and he was on his way. I then put my rod away, brushed myself down and headed through to the bar.
The morning throng was a little thinner than usual. People were idly chatting their lives away amongst the dingy, sleazy decor that made Joe's what it was. Sipping coffee, nibbling doughnuts, all oblivious to the banging noise they call Rock 'n' Roll blaring out of the jukebox.
Stood up to the bar was a small, stocky man dressed in a perfectly ironed suit and tie. He wore a wide brimmed fedora, a half-empty bottle of beer by his side and was generally scowling and waving his fist at the barmaid. He was too preoccupied to notice me as I appeared in the doorway and casually made my way towards him.
I sat down quietly on a barstool behind him. One of the very barstools that sent me plunging to a horrible fall the night before Joe's wedding. Still the man ranted and raged.
"Jake," I said loudly, tapping my brief on the shoulder. "Are you looking for me?"
The man turned around in such a way I already knew the expression before actually seeing it. "Am I looking for..." he hesitated a moment, lost for words. "Am I looking for...”
The following hour was filled by a great deal of histrionics and accusations, all from Jake towards my good self. He was a little perturbed that I hadn't been in contact, that I hadn't bothered to ring - after all it is only courteous, he said. He spent what seemed like days filling me in on what I already knew, going over things again and again - why had Weeny left town? Was he involved in the murder, or possibly even the murderer? What the hell was I chasing in Woodstock anyhow?
I felt like a naughty schoolchild in his principal’s office. I bought him a drink and apologized as humbly as I knew. Still he whimpered, running out of steam a little by now, that if he was to do his job to the full- keeping me out of jail - he had to know the facts, all of them. Thanking him again as he promised me Beech had nothing on me. The investigation was now centered firmly on Weeny. I was now only an accomplice or conspirator at worst.
The sun was shining warmly as I parked by the Crayfish. It was the best seafood restaurant in New York, located right in the beach area of The Rockaways. Claudia had a cigarette as I went inside to order a feast to take out. The waiter smiled and had my order of lobster, ciabatta bread and a chilled bottle of champagne, packed neatly in a picnic basket within minutes. I folded a five spot and placed it in his pocket as he handed me the hamper and a pair of crystal flutes.
Claudia had finished her cigarette when I went outside. She smiled at me and closed her eyes soaking up the occasion. I smiled back and blew her a kiss as the sun illuminated her form.
There was an old, wooden deck that led down to the beach. I carried the basket and Claudia skipped at my side. She slipped an arm through mine and beamed at me right the way to the sand. This was the only place to surf in New York but today we had it to ourselves. We found a pleasant spot and put the basket down. Claudia fumbled in her purse before changing her mind and zipping it up again. She looked up at me and giggled. I giggled too and we embraced in the warm sunshine.
We sat on the beach with our legs crossed. I opened the basket, pulled out the blanket provided and smoothed it out before covering it with our feast. We then demolished the lot in quick time without uttering a word. The sun had dipped behind the tall trees but the birds were still singing.
Claudia lit us both a cigarette and I poured the champagne. "To July 3 1940," I said.
"And to us," Claudia said, and we clinked glasses before drinking. The bubbles must have gone up her nose because she crinkled it in the most incredible way and blushed sweetly.
We cleared the debris, packing it back in the basket and then snuggled up on the blanket. The sun was now dying a slow and beautiful death leaving a deep scar across the clear sky. Claudia nestled her head in the crook of my shoulder and sighed a contented sigh.
"Have you ever been in love Errol?" she asked me.
I drained my champagne and felt a little giddy, thinking about her question and just how truthful I should be. "Yes, a long time ago," I said having decided that I would be totally truthful. "I was once completely in love, so much so that it physically hurt us to be apart. When we were together the rest of the world did not exist, there were no stars, no clouds, no sunshine, nothing. Just us. It didn't matter if we were freezing cold, ravenously hungry or without a dime in the world, we had each other and we were as happy as it is possible to be."
"What happened?" she said, bringing me right back to reality with that hauntingly similar voice.
"She betrayed me. One day I may tell you all about it," I said evasively. "But then one day I might forget about past loves and only be able to concentrate on current ones."
Claudia made a happy noise and kissed me through my clothes. I stroked her hair and prepared for questions of my own.
"Did you love Liam Tighe?" I asked and quickly followed up with: "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."
For a moment, Claudia said nothing and then she started…
"I thought I did at the time, although I have since realized that it wasn't love at all. I worshipped Liam right from the very first time our paths crossed. I was a college student and he was driving for a courier firm. He delivered parcels to my school every day of the week. We got talking one day and he dazzled me with his passion and ambition. Of course, I would later come to understand that for most of his life Liam lived in an absolute fantasy world. Hardly anything he said he would achieve, he ever came near to achieving, but as a young and very impressionable college girl, I didn't care.
"I found him attractive, adventurous and exciting. He was a lot older than me and from a similar background but like me he totally rejected his family and wanted to distance himself from them.
"It wasn't long before we spent every waking hour together. I would go to his flat after college and he would cook me the most wonderful meals. He would then pamper me and treat me like a princess. I never had to lift a finger; he cleaned up afterwards and served me drinks, whatever I desired.
"Of course it didn't last for long. The Cortenes and the Tighes being what they are they soon put a stop to our friendship. Stan swore that he would never ever sanction a marriage between a Cortene and a 'bog trotter', as he called them. He could be very abusive towards them and never seemed to realize that it wasn't marriage that we were after. It wasn't even a proper relationship as such."
She sat upright and looked out at the darkening sky. "We made love once. It was my first time. My only time. I didn't really enjoy it and to be honest I think Liam may have been homosexual. He only ever talked about women in the company of his friends. As you probably know, Liam was very, very different in the company of his male friends. There he enjoyed playing the rogue. He never actually said it to me but I think he knew I knew and I was happy just to remain friends.
"We just about managed to keep in touch. Sometimes it was only once a week and for only minute
s at a time but our time together was precious and we relished every second. Liam broke it off once, he told me he loved me but that we couldn't ever really be together. It was true but we couldn't stop seeing each other altogether either. But it did all come to an end rather quickly. When Liam was accused of that terrible offence, he had to get away. He swore to me that he didn't do it and I believed him, I still do, but he had to get away.
"I think the answer to your question Errol, is no. I thought I loved him but I don't really think that is what it was. It certainly wasn't how love should be, it wasn't what I think I may be feeling now."
She nearly made me blush.
"When Liam fled the country did you keep in touch?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No. I was sad at first but I soon got over it. And before you ask Errol, no, I do not know what the key is going to lead us to. I think I may know where it is for but as to what will be behind the steel door, I'm as much in the dark as you are." She turned and looked at me. "Are you in the dark, Errol?"
And so I told her. I told her all about it, missing bits out, mainly the gory bits or the bits I needed to keep to myself, but basically I told her the whole thing. She listened in shocked silence as I told her all about her friend, the deceptive Marlow and the latest twist bringing George Ferriby into the story. I neglected to tell her my suspicions about Ferriby icing Liam Tighe or that I had found Ferriby dead, but apart from that, I was candor itself.
She took a moment or two to take it all in. I watched her throughout my monologue and she underwent every emotion imaginable. Everything I told her really was a surprise, either that or she was the greatest actress ever.
"Is there any possibility the key is not from Liam?" she asked me.
I shrugged. "It's possible but I doubt it. There sure is one way of finding out for certain. Claudia, listen to me, there's something I've not told you."
"Something else?"
"I only discovered this yesterday. I don't really know how to say this Claudia, so I'm just going to come out with it."
Her eyes widened and she looked at me fearfully.
"George Ferriby is also dead. I found him in his lock up yesterday. I think maybe he killed Liam for the diamond and then somebody, probably the Coward, killed him."
This time she did surprise me. I expected her to break down. Hell, her last two boyfriends were both dead and I had broke the news to her in the last couple of hours. On top of that, the last six months of her life was now on very shaky ground. Her best friend was a liar, a cheat and possibly a killer.
But she took it well.
She took several deep breaths, smoked the rest of her cigarettes and clung onto me like I was her last lifeline. And then she talked. She talked about Ferriby, she talked about Marlow and she talked about herself. She made a point about telling me that she never slept with him, almost as if this was essential information for our own coupling to blossom. She told me what it was that attracted her too him but that they were never going to sleep together until they were married. She really believed that it would not be long. She relied on Marlow to give her the benefit of her own vast experience and she looked at her as her sister and soul mate. She was brutally honest in her recollection and we both sat with tears streaming down our cheeks as it slowly sunk in that she had been duped from day one.
I didn't probe too deeply but it transpired that she had nothing to add to the body of information I was already grappling with. For that I was grateful, I didn't need anything else complicating matters and for now my next move was clear.
We took a walk along the beach as far as Jacob Riis Park and only stopped to turn around when we came across a pair of male nudists. Claudia went red in the face as soon as she saw them and buried her head in my chest. We both indulged in some much needed laughter and skipped back to the car.
The drive back to the City was somber. Claudia told me that she would be returning back to the family home for the evening. Stan was going to call and she wanted to be home to speak to him. I was pleased she was thinking so clearly. She promised me she would be back tomorrow and we would begin a life together and that nearly made me cry again.
I waited with her until the car arrived and waved her off thinking just how great being alive was.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Wild Goose Chase
The next morning was spent tying up a few loose ends. First, I telephoned my launderette to change the delivery address for this weeks order. In response, I got a whole pile of abuse and a warning that there would be no delivery unless I settled the bill pretty soon. Second, I posted my application for license renewal. That also had been pending for a while, and now Beech was off my ass I anticipated a smoother journey.
Next on the agenda was my meet with Hermeez. He had called in late last night but I had missed him. I was fast asleep in Joe's office and my buddy refused to wake me. I was intrigued to find out how he and Marlow were getting along, and sure he'd only be too pleased to tell me.
I parked my heap illegally by the sidewalk, displayed my 'NYPD on call' notice, and got out. It sure was wet today, raining cats and dogs. Battering the ground with some force. I proceeded ahead on foot through Midtown Manhattan. As I checked my watch, rain trickled down my cheek and splashed across the glass face.
It was one fifty two.
I pushed ahead briskly, casually glancing over my shoulder as I passed The New York Public Library. I took a right turn on 42nd Street where it was a little quieter. I progressed quicker, altering my pace measurably weaving in and out of canopies to stay out of the rain.
Straight ahead, three hundred meters down the street, was Pershing Square. At Pershing Square, Park Avenue lifts off the ground to circle the huge mass of Grand Central Station, probably the most famous railway station in the world and without doubt the most beautiful. Constructed from a basic iron frame but with the exterior of a fine cathedral the Beaux Arts design has been regularly featured on celluloid. Again, I looked at my watch - one fifty seven - glanced in the reflection behind me and continued on towards the terminal.
The interior of Grand Central is even more impressive than the outside. The main concourse is truly one of the world's great open spaces, stretching 470 feet long and 150 feet high. The ceiling is painted with a unique representation of the winter night sky, with 2500 stars sparkling out back to front. The beautiful marble corridors appear to go on forever, giving Grand Central a whole world of its own.
I arrived at the Oyster Bar right on time. I took off my fedora, gave it a good shake down, casually brushed down my slacks, straightened my tie and entered the building. Immediately a small, black waitress rushed up to me, relieved me of my trench coat and headwear, doing the same for another man behind me, wearing similar attire. She then ushered me to my table. The man sat two tables to my right.
The place was reasonably busy. Glancing around, there was no sign of Hermeez. I ordered a seafood salad and a bottle of crisp, white Chablis. The man across ordered smoked haddock with a glass of Zinfandel. Ten minutes later, Hermeez appeared in the large, wooden doorway with a scowl on his face. He was dripping all over the thick, carpeted entrance, smiled politely at the waitress, and made his way over.
He sat down quietly, a somber look on his handsome face. Looking straight at me, he said, "Errol, I apologize for being late. I've had a hell of a morning."
I poured a glass for Hermeez and smiled warmly as the waitress returned, carrying a whole pile of succulent seafood salad and two dinner plates. A moment later, she re-emerged with a drab looking haddock for the man across.
"What are you looking so peachy about anyways?"
I guess I was just one big smile. I couldn't help it, it didn't matter how much I thought about the case and what a big fuckin' mess it all was, I just kept breaking out into a great big smile. I let Hermeez stay puzzled for a moment longer and then I told him. By the end of my tale he was smiling too, but not as widely as me.
"That's great news about you and Claudia," he said. "I'm
really happy for you."
"But?"
"But now I got to tell you my news and it isn't half as good as yours." He sighed again. "It has been one hell of a day, it really has. I am sorry Errol, I am afraid I have lost her. She gave me the runaround."
I laughed out loud between spooning a mouthful of squid. Hermeez looked shocked, hurt almost. "You lost her? What did she do? Did she hide under the bed, whilst you were out buying parachutes?"
"This morning she was there," he looked down glumly at his empty plate. "When I awoke this afternoon she had disappeared. What can I say Errol? I am sorry."
I glanced over at the man across. He was gulping down his wine quickly, dribbling it down his stubbly chin. He looked over and our eyes met. His were filled with tension. Instantly he looked away nervously.
"Okay you lost her. That in itself doesn't matter," I continued, sucking out the juicy flesh of an oyster. "But it was worthwhile, yes? You did find out something worth knowing?"
"Oh yes!" answered Hermeez. "I have found out a great deal of interesting information. But..." he took a sip of Chablis, "nice wine," he said before filling his plate with seafood, all the melancholy of a moment ago seemingly disappeared. "But when you hear it..." he shook his head. "Well... maybe she'd have been useful to hang on to."
"I'm listening," I said, just as the man across clicked his fingers to catch the waitress's attention. As he did so his jacket swung open revealing a holstered piece.
"Did you see that?" asked Hermeez
I nodded, "He's..."
"He's drinking Zinfandel with smoked haddock."
I paused for a chuckle before returning my attention to Hermeez. "He's been following me most of the journey here. I'm not sure where he picked me up but I remember his from as far back as the Brooklyn Bridge lights."
Still in disgust Hermeez eventually said, "Don't worry Errol," whilst cracking open a crab's claw and sucking out the white meat. "He has got no chance. Zinfandel with white fish, I ask you."
