The Pitiful Player (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 14)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  Benjamin had already loosened his tie and was pulling off his jacket as he said, "It sure the hell is. Mind if I join the two of you?"

  Carter laughed. "Come on in. The water's fine."

  Right after Benjamin walked back into the house, Kenneth came storming back out with the lease contract. "Who the hell is Deseo Property, Incorporated?"

  I moved around in the water, getting closer to Carter, and said, "Dunno."

  "Dunno," mocked Kenneth in reply, glaring down at me. He looked back at the contract. He read for a couple of moments and then he thumped the paper. "Wait a second. Yard maintenance, pool maintenance, all utilities, even phone service. All included." He frowned down at me. "Who the hell does this? Five hundred bucks couldn't possibly cover the whole thing. This really smells like a tax shelter." He looked at the pool. "Using that swimming pool should cost you four bits a pop. It's enormous. Is it heated? I bet it's heated."

  Carter said, "Yep."

  Kenneth rolled his eyes and repeated, "Yep." He sighed and said, "You two are—" He frowned heavily and thumped the paper again.

  "What?" asked Carter.

  "Deseo Property. Why does that sound familiar?"

  I couldn't help it, so I said, "Dunno."

  Carter snickered.

  Kenneth wasn't paying any attention. His frown had shifted to amusement. "Oh no. It couldn't be. Hold on. Don't either of you go anywhere. You both stay right there."

  We watched as he ran into the living room.

  "What was that about?" asked Carter.

  "Dunno," was the only thing I could think of to say. He splashed me.

  Right then, Benjamin ran out of the living room. He was in his swim trunks, looking skinny and hairy, just like Carter liked. He made a big whooping noise and jumped into the deep end of the pool, cannonball-style.

  Carter and I laughed as he came up out of the water and shook the water off his head. He grinned. "I wanna live here. Maybe Kenneth and I can start a practice down here."

  I said, "Remember what it was like downtown. All that smog."

  Benjamin made a face. "Oh, yeah."

  Carter said, "But, if we keep this place, you're more than welcome to visit anytime you want."

  Benjamin frowned. "You mean—"

  "You goddam cocksuckers!" That was Kenneth from inside the house and he sounded like he was laughing.

  We all turned to look at him as he walked out onto the patio. He was holding a loose-leaf binder in his left hand and grinning like a fool.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Do you know who owns Deseo Property, Incorporated?"

  I shook my head.

  Carter said, "Dunno," as we all laughed.

  Kenneth grinned down at me. "N.W.T. Los Angeles Properties, Incorporated. Do you know who owns that company?"

  I shook my head again.

  "N.W.T. Western America Holdings, Incorporated. Guess who owns that company."

  I shrugged. "Who?"

  "N.W.T. North American Holdings, Incorporated. Any guesses as to who owns that?"

  Carter said, "Santa Claus."

  That got a guffaw out of Benjamin and a grin from me.

  "No." He was smiling from ear to ear. Looking down at me, he asked, "You ready?" He ran his hand down a tab and turned a page in the notebook.

  I nodded, wondering what the hell he was up to.

  "N.W.T. North American Holdings, a Delaware corporation, is wholly owned by The Nicholas Williams Private Trust. Bank of America, San Francisco, California, as trustee."

  I gaped up at him. "What are you saying?"

  He was gleeful and almost beside himself. "You idiot. You just rented a house from yourself!"

  . . .

  "We're gonna have to get some more clothes." That was Carter. It was half past 7 in the evening. We had just finished taking a shower and were getting dressed. Since he hadn't been for a swim, Kenneth had volunteered to drive down into Sherman Oaks and grab us some hamburger sandwiches and Cokes for dinner.

  I sighed. "I know."

  "Why don't we ever pack enough?"

  "Because we always think we're gonna be gone overnight or something."

  He grinned down at me as he zipped up his trousers. "Or because we're leaving in the middle of the night after being kicked out of the country."

  I smiled. "Or something like that."

  He picked up his brush and looked in the mirror over the bureau. As he brushed his hair, he watched me in the reflection and said, "I've got an idea. How about you call the house, have Gustav pack a trunk full of clothes, and tell Robert to put it on the plane that's bringing Walter down tomorrow?"

  "That's a good idea. I'll do that after we eat. But I wish that Tom would call."

  "Does he have the number?"

  "He knows to call Marnie. She has the number."

  "Right." Carter began to apply pomade to his hair.

  I stood up and walked up next to him. "I hope Howie is gonna be OK."

  "I'm sure he is. He probably needed to have his stomach pumped. That hurts like hell, or so I'm told, but he'll be fine." He looked down at me. "You sure you want to set Walter up with Howie? What if the kid is a drug addict?"

  "I don't think he is. Anyway, we need to find out why he took too many pills in the first place. I have a hunch about that."

  "What?"

  I shook my head. "I'm not sure. But I think it's connected to Juan Zane. I sure wish I knew what else was on that menu. It can't just be Mary Jane."

  "Maybe you can ask tomorrow at the pick-up."

  "I doubt it."

  "You could get someone else to call that number and see if they can find out."

  "That's an idea but John Taylor is already spooked. Let's wait until we hear from Tom."

  Right then, the doorbell rang. I walked out of the bedroom, down the hall, crossed the entryway, and opened the door. To my surprise, Mike was standing there with a goofy grin on his face and holding a valise in his left hand. He was an inch taller than Carter at 6'5". He had jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, and a face like Boris Karloff, as Carter had recently described it. He was attractive when he was happy but when he was unhappy, I always thought of villagers running for their lives.

  I pulled him in for a big hug and said, "You didn't have to come down."

  He kissed me on the forehead, stepped back, and looked around. "And miss all this? Are you kidding?"

  . . .

  We were all eating in the dining room. Kenneth had picked up extra food just in case Tom and Howie were back by the time he arrived. So, we had plenty. After bringing Mike up to speed, including letting Kenneth tell the story about me renting the house from myself, Carter asked, "How did you know to come here?"

  Mike smiled and swallowed his bite. After wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he said, "Easy. William Haines called Marnie and gave her the address after he talked to Nick." Looking at me, he said, "I think she's got a crush on him, the poor gal."

  I shook my head. "From what she told me, she and Alex are still in the heavy honeymoon phase, so I doubt it's a crush. I think she's just in awe of who he knows."

  Mike shrugged. "Could be. Anyway, I checked with Robert. He told me the DC-3 was coming down to Burbank, so I hopped aboard."

  "Who was on it?" I asked.

  He grinned. "Just the usual. Ronald Colman was traveling with Mary Pickford, who was pointedly ignoring Joan Crawford, who was traveling with her secretary and an ice chest full of Pepsi and vodka. Miss Crawford ordered the stewardess to serve only Pepsi during the flight."

  Kenneth asked, "When did she marry the Pepsi guy?"

  Benjamin answered with his mouth full, "In May. I wonder why they weren't together."

  Mike shrugged. "Let's see, there was also Doris Day and her husband. I don't know his name."

  Benjamin said, "Marty Melcher."

  Mike laughed. "You seem to know everyone."

  Benjamin shrugged. "I guess."

  "Did anyone know who you were?" I asked
.

  Mike shook his head. "Mr. Colman asked and I said I was a friend of the pilot, bumming a ride. I stayed in the back and talked to the stewardess the whole way down. No one else talked to me although I did get a smile from Miss Day. She's as cute in real life as she is on the screen."

  I looked at Mike and asked, "So, is there another reason you came down here?"

  He blushed and then nodded. "Yeah. I need to see Greg. Real bad."

  We all laughed.

  Carter asked, "So now we know how you got down here, but how did you know we were here?"

  Mike smiled. "I gave the cab driver this address and the address of the house in Beverly Hills. He said this was on the way so we came here first. It was hard to find. The street name isn't on the map. But I happened to see the wood sign."

  Benjamin nodded. "That's how we found it."

  Right then, the doorbell rang. I jumped up. "I hope that's Tom and Howie." I ran through the living room and up to the front door. I opened it and, sure enough, the two of them were standing there. Howie looked pretty miserable.

  "Am I glad to see you two. Come in."

  They both walked in and looked around. Howie, with a voice that sounded pretty rough, said, "Gee, Nick—" He started coughing.

  Tom said, "I told you not to talk, kid."

  "Where have you two been?" I started to add how worried I'd been but then decided not to. I didn't want to sound like my father.

  Tom replied, "We went to empty out the kid's apartment. Hope you don't mind. He's gonna have to move in here, if you got the room."

  I nodded. "We have one bedroom left. Where's his stuff?"

  "In my car."

  "Why don't you and Carter go grab it? I'll take care of Howie."

  The kid smiled at me while Tom asked, "Where is everyone else?"

  "Sorry. They're in the dining room." I pointed to the entrance to the kitchen. "Go in there and make a U-turn."

  Tom grinned and jogged over.

  I took Howie by the arm and said, "Let's go get you taken care of."

  As we walked down the hall, he whispered, "Sorry, Nick."

  "What happened?"

  "I don't know. I must have taken two of the pink pills. But I don't remember doing that."

  We walked into the bedroom at the end of the hall. It shared a bathroom with the one just before. I walked in and looked for a glass. There were two sitting on the counter. I filled one with water and carried it back into the bedroom. Howie was sitting on the bed. I handed him the glass and he carefully drank it.

  I sat next to him and waited until he was done. "Where did you get those pills?"

  "From a friend at school. Pretty much everyone uses them." He was still whispering. "But I'm always real careful with them. I don't understand what happened."

  Right then, Tom walked into the room with two cartons of books. He put them on the bureau and said, "I'll tell you what happened. Your dealer, or friend, or whoever it was, gave you some bad pills. That's why you should stay away from the junk."

  Carter walked in with a couple of suitcases and put them on the floor by the bed. "How ya doin', kid?"

  Howie offered a weak grin and whispered, "I feel like hell."

  Carter folded his arms. "Good. Serves you right. Ever thought that those pills was the reason you have insomnia?"

  Howie frowned and thought for a moment. "Could be."

  Carter nodded. "Tell you what, don't ever pull a stunt like that again, or you'll be fired out on your ass."

  "Fired?" asked Howie, looking confused.

  I grinned. "Well, we haven't hired you yet, but we were planning on it. But not if you keep taking pills."

  Howie nodded. "So it's like that?" He was wavering between a whisper and a croak.

  Tom leaned over and got in Howie's face. "It's exactly like that. Fired and then I'm gonna track you down and knock your block off, kid. And I mean it."

  I looked at Howie. He was obviously miserable. I stood and said, "Let's let him get some sleep. Where's your motorcycle?"

  Tom said, "We'll have to go back and get it tomorrow."

  I nodded. I leaned down and kissed Howie on the cheek. He reddened slightly and whispered, "Thanks, Nick."

  "You're welcome, kid. Get a good night's sleep. We'll see you in the morning."

  Carter said, "Sweet dreams, Howie."

  Tom knelt down next to Howie and kissed him on the cheek as well. "Good night, kid. Sleep tight."

  Howie impetuously put his arms around Tom's thick neck and hugged him. I could hear him whisper, "Thanks, Tom. I mean it."

  Tom said, "You're welcome."

  . . .

  For some reason, there was no furniture around the pool. I made a mental note to ask Billy about that. I had a feeling it was some sort of design choice, but we needed some. It was too nice a night to sit inside, so we pulled the dining room chairs outside and sat around the pool, admiring the few stars we could see.

  "What did the doctor say?" That was Carter.

  Tom replied, "He said he probably didn't need to pump Howie's stomach. But I'm glad he did. That'll teach that kid a lesson."

  Mike folded his arms and said, "Yeah. I doubt he'll forget how much that hurts."

  Tom reached over and offered his hand. "Tom Ruggles."

  Mike grinned. "Mike Robertson. I'm your boss, by the way."

  Tom laughed. "That's what I heard."

  "Did Nick try to set you up with Micky Bailey?"

  "He did at that. And I know Micky from before and there ain't no way I'd ever get with him again. He's a nice enough kid but he needs to learn how to wash."

  Mike nodded in agreement. "That's what I hear." Looking at me, he said, "They're on their way up here, by the way. I called Ben's apartment. Greg answered. I gave him the directions. He's bringing Micky along." He looked at Tom. "Are you staying over tonight?"

  Tom looked at me. "No, if that's OK with you, Nick. I need to get home and take care of some things." He looked back at Mike. "Unless you have a plan for us doing something tonight in terms of this case."

  Mike shook his head. "No. It's Thursday night. Nick's idea had been to go around to the places that William Fraser used to frequent. My guess is that Fridays and Saturdays are the best times to hit those places. What do you think, Nick?"

  I sighed. "I keep thinking about Carlo in jail. But, you're right. We probably wouldn't have found much of anything on a week night."

  Tom nodded. "I think you're right about that. So, I'll head home in a bit." He grinned at Mike. "You want me to take Micky home, is that the deal?"

  Mike nodded with a smile. "If you don't mind."

  "I'll take him as far as his apartment building. Does he still live on Los Feliz?"

  I nodded. "That's how he and Martinelli first met. He and Ben..." I looked over at Benjamin who grinned at me. "He and Ben White moved in there last summer when they came down here from San Francisco. Micky and Martinelli used to go out to Muscle Beach together, from what I gather."

  Tom nodded. "They still do. I've seen them there a few times." He looked over at Carter. "When are we gonna head over there?"

  "Tomorrow?" asked Carter.

  Tom grinned. He stretched his thick arms above his head. "Good. I need a long work-out."

  Carter nodded. "So do I. It's been almost a week since I've done much of anything."

  Right then, the doorbell rang. Mike stood and said, "I'll get it." He walked quickly into the living room.

  Benjamin said, "Are he and Greg sleeping here tonight?"

  I nodded.

  Benjamin smiled wickedly. "I wish I'd brought ear plugs."

  Tom smiled just as wickedly and leaned forward, "Speaking of ear plugs and other kinds of plugs—"

  Kenneth stood and said, "Mind your own business, Mr. Gorilla." He walked into the house.

  "Touchy," was Tom's only reply as Benjamin stood, attempted to slug Tom in the arm, and then followed Kenneth.

  I looked at Carter and said, "You know what, I kinda
like Mr. Gorilla as a nickname for Tom. What do you think?"

  Carter shrugged. "If the monkey suit fits..."

  Tom and I laughed at that.

  . . .

  It was just before 10 when we got to bed. Howie was in the room at the end of the hallway. Then Kenneth and Benjamin in the room adjacent to his that shared a bathroom. Mike and Greg were in the next room and next to ours. The house was solidly built and if they were doing anything in particular other than cuddling, which Mike was good at, I couldn't hear them.

  Micky, whose shoulder seemed to be fine and was out of the sling, had been a little bewildered at seeing Tom again, which had provided some comic relief. They headed down the hill in Tom's car after about thirty minutes of everyone getting caught up on all the latest. The plan was to re-group at the house at 6 pm on Friday.

  I had also called both Gustav and Robert about getting a trunk of clothes on the DC-3. Robert had told me to plan on picking up both Walter and the trunk at Burbank at around 5. He said Walter was almost beside himself, looking forward to the long weekend. Mike had reported the same. Before we all went off to bed, I told everyone to expect a housekeeper to arrive at 8 the next morning and to be ready for her.

  "What a long day," said Carter. He had his head on my chest. It didn't happen often, but he sometimes liked to snuggle me. It usually meant he was upset about something. As he held me, I tried to think about what it might be. I could imagine a few things but nothing seemed to rise to the surface.

  "What's wrong, Chief?"

  He sighed. "I like this house. No, I love this house. The view. The pool. That living room. I'm glad you own it already."

  Before he could say more, I interrupted him. "I don't know if I do, or not. I don't understand who owns what through the trust. I need to ask Kenneth about that, tomorrow. But that's not the point."

  Carter snuggled in closer. "No. The point is that I don't like being thrown out of places."

  I didn't know whether to laugh or not. Of course he didn't. No one did. The feeling of not having the right to be there, wondering when you might get thrown out, all of that was awful and it wasn't right. But I didn't think that was what he meant. I asked, "Did today bother you more than usual?"

  Carter stiffened. "That's just it. 'More than usual.' What a way to live." His voice was rising. "Thank God, I guess, that you're rich enough to keep us protected. We can always fly to Mexico or Brazil or France. But we can't go to England." For some reason, that made him burst into tears. He buried his face in my chest and held me tightly, almost too tight. I rubbed his back and waited for the storm to pass. After about a minute, he stopped crying. He sniffed and said, "I don't know why I did that."