by Marja McGraw
“Freddi,” I said, helping Mikey off his stool, “thank you so much for lending these to me. We’ll take very good care of them. I know they mean a lot to you.”
We walked out together and waited while Freddi locked the front door of Daniel’s.
“I know you will. Well, I’m off to see that butcher.” She glanced at Mikey. “I’m only joking, son, my dentist is the best one in town. I always feel better after I see him. And he’s my husband, so I get a good discount.” She laughed at her own humor.
Oddly, Mikey looked at Freddi with longing.
She saw it and bent down to give him a hug. “What can I say? Kids love me. Since my grandson isn’t here today, you get his hug.”
“I liked her,” Mikey said after we’d pulled away from the curb. “She is like a grandma. A funny one, too. I can’t wait to have dinner with her.”
“I don’t know if she meant that or not, Ace,” Chris said. “Sometimes people say things just to be polite.”
“She meant it. I could tell.”
I smiled. I thought she meant it, too.
***
We spent a quiet evening at home. I cooked for a change, actually happy to get away from fast food for the evening. It was only sloppy joe’s and pasta salad, but it tasted like manna from heaven.
Mrs. Stanhope had given Mikey his Friday assignment, so he did his homework before joining Chris and me out on the patio. We got out a game and played for an hour before I sent my son up to take his shower.
“Your bags are packed and ready to go,” I said. “You can look and see if I missed anything you want to take with you.”
“I have a book I checked out at the library, but I know Grandpa will tease me for bringing a book. He teases me about everything.”
“That’s okay. He used to tease your dad about everything, too.”
Mikey stole a quick glance at Chris, seemingly wondering how his new dad would react to a comment about his other dad.
“It’s okay, Ace. You’re one of the lucky ones. You’ve got two dads. You’re other dad cared for you very much, and so do I. I wish I could have met your real father. I hear he was aces, too.”
Mikey looked relieved. “I don’t remember him, but if he was anything like grandpa, I would have liked him a lot. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He went into the house and returned in a moment with Freddi’s picture album, placing it on the patio table.
“Thanks, Mikey. We were going to look at those after you went to bed.” I opened the album to the first page.
“I want to see them, too,” Mikey said, pulling his chair close to mine.
We looked through the album together, but we were mostly looking at the old cars, old styles of clothing and people having a good time in a cocktail lounge. I’d never asked Freddi what her grandfather’s name was, but the first picture was of a man standing in front of Dapper Dan’s. The picture was labeled, Dan Simon, Proud New Owner. After that, personal family pictures were interspersed with pictures from the cocktail lounge.
We breezed through the pictures because Mikey needed to get some sleep before leaving on his camping trip, and it was turning dark. A cool breeze came up reminding me that it was still spring, but I knew summer wasn’t far off.
Chris and Mikey walked in to the house and I picked up the album, taking one last glance at Dan Simon. “Have you got any revelations for me?”
He smiled at me from his spot in front of the bar.
Chapter Thirty-three
Linda and Gene picked Mikey up at six o’clock the next morning, anxious to get on the road before the rest of the holiday traffic. They wanted to drive for an hour or so before stopping for breakfast. The first thing Mikey did was ask his grandparents to start calling him Ace.
“I think that’s a fine nickname,” Grandma Linda said, smiling.
“Come on, Ace,” Grandpa Gene said, “let’s get moving. I think there’s a fish out there waiting for you.”
Mikey gave us hurried hugs and ran out to the truck, stopping to admire the trailer hitched up behind it. He waved at us as they pulled away, while we stood and watched from the porch. I could see Mikey’s mouth moving and his grandmother laughing. They were going to have a good weekend.
“That kid’s going to be wound up tighter than a yoyo when they get home,” Chris said.
“He’ll be bouncing off the walls,” I agreed.
“We’ll leave him in the backyard with Sherlock and Watson. They’ll tire him out.”
We walked inside, hand in hand, and settled in the kitchen.
“It seems awfully quiet,” I said.
“He’s only been gone for thirty seconds,” Chris replied.
“I know.”
“You’re right,” Chris said, “it is quiet.”
“What would you like for breakfast?” I asked.
“Surprise me.”
So I did. I sat down, picked up the phone and called in an order to a diner, asking that they deliver the food. Actually, it was the Red Barn, the diner where I was working when Chris and I first met. The owner laughed heartily when I asked for delivery and told me we could pick the food up in twenty minutes.
Chris didn’t laugh heartily when I asked him to pick it up, but he left without a grumble.
While he was gone I picked up Dan’s album and started looking through it again, taking my time. The cocktail lounge really hadn’t changed all that much. It had more modern booths and tables, but the bar was the same, as were the shelves and cabinets behind it.
I thumbed through each page, soaking in the atmosphere the pictures provided. Dan had written the year the pictures were taken at the top of each page. I knew there had to be other albums, but these photos represented, apparently, the best of each year.
I slowed down as I approached what looked like the right time period. There weren’t many pictures, but the ones I was looking at seemed important.
There was a dart board at the far end of the bar. Two men were standing next to it. One was Dan, and the other had a wide smile on his face, and he was pointing at the dart which was stuck smack dab right in the middle of the target. The caption read, “Shipley does it again.”
My heart did another one of those tap dances it had been doing lately. This had to be Sam Shipley. I studied his him closely. Just like Chance had said, he was a big man, very tall. He was handsome in a rugged way, and he had a long scar that ran from beside his eye down to his chin. No one had mentioned the scar, but between that and his size, I could imagine that if one saw him in person it probably made him appear scary.
I focused on the next few photos, but their names didn’t match those of anyone we’d heard of so far.
Turning the page, my eyes did everything but roll back in my head. The picture at the top of the page was of two women standing side by side, arms linked together, and the caption read, “Our Songbirds, Chance and Alice. Sweeter Voices Were Never Heard.”
One woman was short and blonde, and the other was taller and had brunette hair. Chance and Alice. Alice and Chance. Sam. Their names echoed through my head. Here they were, right in front of me. I looked closer. Little Alice was smiling the smile of a cherub, but Chance looked somber. Was she unhappy to be having her picture taken? That didn’t fit. She was nuts about herself. Maybe she was upset at sharing the attention with Alice.
I heard Chris pull into the driveway and set the album aside, leaving it open. I quickly pulled two plates and glasses from the cupboard and grabbed some silverware out of the drawer. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I fished milk and jam out of the refrigerator and sat down, trying to look like I’d been waiting patiently for my breakfast and not setting the table at the last minute.
I heard Chris whistling when he came through the front door. “Honey, I’m home,” he called.
I smiled at my Bogey Man when he walked into the kitchen.
He glanced at the open album sitting on the sink. “Whatcha been doin’?” he asked.
“Nothing.�
��
“Not even looking at pictures?”
“Nah, I was waiting for you to come home.”
“Uh huh.” He set the bag of food down on the table and poured himself a cup of coffee while I started unpacking the food.
“Well, I couldn’t help it. I had to take a peek. My curiosity got the best of me.”
He rolled his upper lip under and shrugged. “That’s okay, peaches, you’re the brains in this outfit anyway, so it’s just as well you took a gander with that ol’ eagle eye of yours. See anything interesting?”
“Yes, but let’s eat breakfast before we go through them.”
I smiled at him smugly and he watched me through slitted eyes.
“You must have found something good. Want to spill your guts and tell me what you saw?”
“Nope. Right now I want to eat my breakfast.”
Chris took a step toward the album.
“Uh uh. Sit down and eat. We’ve got all weekend to look at the pictures and solve a couple of murders.”
He sneered at me before smiling and sitting down. “So what’s on the agenda today?”
“I have to go see Chance to get the information about Alice. What about you?”
“I’m going to see another band, if you want to go with me.” He took a bite of toast and picked up his glass of milk.
“I trust your judgment. What else?”
He swallowed before answering me. “I’m not sure. I want to go over to the restaurant and see if Big D is making any progress, and I should call either Midge or Charlotte.”
“I’d call Charlotte if I were you. I think after meeting us she kind of expects us to stay in contact with her. They’ve got a new cook at the Red Barn. Aren’t these eggs delicious?”
Chris nodded, forking a bite of his eggs. He stopped the fork, midway to his mouth. “If you want to wait until later to see Chance, I’ll go with you.”
“That’s okay. It’ll just be a hit-and-run visit. Get the information and leave. I’m not going to stay. Besides, I know how uncomfortable she makes you.”
“Thanks.” I could hear the relief in his voice. “What are you going to do about Alice?”
“I’ll call her and see if she’ll talk to me. Maybe she’ll have a less slanted view of the things that went on back then than Chance has. I get the feeling that she was probably the more reasonable woman of the two of them.”
We finished breakfast and I washed the dishes before picking up the album again. I set it on the table and flipped the page back to the picture of Sam Shipley.
“Guess who,” I said, turning the album toward Chris and pushing it across the table.
He studied the picture closely. “I can see why he scared Chance. He’s not all that bad looking, but between his size and that scar, he could play the part of a serial killer in the movies. The scar makes his smile kind of weird.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I reached across the table and turned the page, tapping the top picture.
“Oh,” Chris said. “Even after all these years Chance is recognizable.” He looked at the other, smaller woman. “So this is Alice. She doesn’t look like competition for Chance to me, although she’s pretty.”
“I know what you mean. They each have a very different type of look. Alice appears sweet and cute, and she has a softer look than Chance. Chance has a more worldly appearance, like she might have been around the block once or twice.”
Chris started turning the pages and studying the other photos. “Did you look at any of the rest of these?”
“I only got as far as Chance and Alice before you got home.”
“Well, then, come take a look. Here’s another character from our little drama.” Chris was pointing at the picture of another man. “It looks like this photo was staged.”
I walked around the table and looked over Chris’s shoulder. There were six people in the picture with spectators in the background. Two had their fists up as though they were about to throw a punches, and the other four were watching. The thing was, even though they were scowling, you could see the two fighters were having to hold back a laugh. And the spectators were laughing out loud. The caption read, “When Long and Blakely Fight, Everyone wants in on the Donnybrook.”
“Can you believe this?” I asked “Thanks to this album, we know what every one of the players looked like. And we can come to some conclusions. Look at the two fighters. They were friends. There’s no doubt in my mind. But in the picture of Chance and Alice, they didn’t look like friends.”
“Oddly, these pictures seem to give me more perspective about these people.” Chris continued to study the photos.
I took a closer look at the donnybrook photo, this time studying the men who were standing back from the fighters and watching. I pointed one of the men out to Chris. “I couldn’t swear to it, but I think this one is Jim, the guy I played poker with the other day.”
“Are you sure? That would mean he knew these guys. Didn’t he say he didn’t know who they were?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “You know what? I’m going to scan these pictures and print them, and I’m taking them to Chance’s with me today. I’m going to show the fight picture to Jim and see if I get a reaction. Maybe he’s more involved in this than we thought.”
“Pamela, you be careful. He may be old, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do some damage. I think you should wait until I can go with you.”
“No, trust me. I won’t approach him if he’s by himself. The other poker players will probably be there. Besides, he might say that it is him, but he didn’t know who he was watching. I mean, it’s a staged fight, so Dan could have asked other patrons to pose for the picture. Jim was such a nice guy. I can’t imagine him being involved in all of this.”
“I want you to be careful. Like I said, and I can’t repeat it enough, these people might be old, but that doesn’t mean they’re harmless. And if somebody put you down for the count, cookie, I don’t know what Mikey and I would do.”
Standing behind Chris, I reached around his neck and hugged him.
“You’re choking me,” he croaked.
While Chris made a few phone calls on restaurant business, I scanned the pictures of interest and printed them on photo paper. Rather than pull out the pictures and take a chance on harming them, I scanned the whole page. When I was done I called Janet and told her about Alice being alive and about the album.
“You two are amazing. Alice and photographs. I wish we’d known where she was earlier. She might have been able to clear up a few things for us,” Janet said. “When you have the information on her, call and let me know where to find her.”
“I will, but I’m not going to wait for you. I’m going to call her myself, as soon as I can.”
Janet sighed. “I wish I could tell you to stay out of it, but I’m actually finding you and Chris to be a big help.”
“Thanks.”
“By the way, I found out how Charlotte managed to find out what we’re doing. One of the other detectives here is a relative of hers, and he happens to be someone I’ve been sharing information with about the investigation. He said he would have warned me not to use you and Chris to run down leads, but Charlotte talked him out of it.
“So now I want to warn you, Pamela, if anything happens to you or Chris, our butts could be on the line. Don’t take any chances. Call me if you find out anything that could lead to the killer and let me take care of it.”
***
After Chris and I ate lunch, he left to listen to another band. This one was called Murder One, and I didn’t have high hopes for them. I couldn’t imagine a forties-type band calling themselves Murder One.
I left for Chance’s apartment not long after Chris pulled out. While driving over there I thought about Jim. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t imagine him as a multiple murderer. Besides, his name had never come up in connection with the boarding house. His only connection was Dapper Dan’s, as far as I could tell.
I pull
ed up to the retirement village and headed straight for the recreation room. As I approached it I could hear the voices of my new friends. Shelly was asking one of them if he was in or out.
“Hey, everybody,” I said, greeting them.
“Pamela, pull up a chair,” Stuart said.
“I can’t today – another time. I was hoping to talk to Jim for a minute.”
“What do you need, little lady?” Jim asked.
“I wondered if you’d look at some pictures. I think one of them might be of you.”
His interest piqued, he sat down at a different table with me and I spread the pictures out for him to look at. Apparently his vision wasn’t what it once was, even with glasses. He bent over to take a very close look at them.
“Is that you?” I asked, pointing to one of the figures in the phony fight photo.
“It is. Well, I’ll be darned,” he said, smiling. He glanced at the rest of the pictures. “Where did you get these?” His smile disappeared and he looked perplexed – or could that be a look of fear?
Chapter Thirty-four
“Is there something wrong?” I asked.
“Nooo,” he said, slowly. “Not really. I remember when this was taken, and we were having a good time that night. Just for a second though, while I looked at all of the pictures, something didn’t feel right.”
“What didn’t feel right?”
“I can’t say.” He looked up at me. “You know. It was one of those things that passes through your mind before you can grab it. It’ll come to me though. I hate getting old. My mind just doesn’t work quick like it used to.”
“I won’t push you, Jim. You think about it and maybe whatever it was will come back to you.”
He pinched his lips together before speaking. “Sometimes it takes me a while, but eventually I remember what I was trying to think of.”
“Do you recognize the two men who’re pretending to fight?” I asked.
“Their faces are familiar, but I don’t recollect their names.” He leaned closer and took another look. “Wait a minute, I know this one. What was his name again?” He pointed to Charles.
