Carter said, "That may as be, but we're her friends and we're gonna take her home."
From down on the floor, I looked up at the big man. He wasn't exactly towering over Carter, but he was certainly a head taller. He crossed his arms. "That so?"
Mildred had landed right on the door frame that opened into a sitting room. I pushed her chest forward and lifted under her arms, dragging her into the other room. I stretched her out. As I was standing up, I heard the man say, "Oof!"
I looked over and the man was bent over, holding his hands over his groin. His face was contorted in agony. He was also looking around the room as if he didn't know what hit him.
I saw Dawson standing on the other side of Carter. The shorter man pulled his fist back and landed it right on the big man's closed hands. The man yelped again and fell to his knees. As he did this, Carter began to rapidly pound on his face, as if he was a punching bag. The man fell over on his side, wailing in agony. Carter gave him one last kick right above his groin. The man pulled his long legs up until he was in a ball and whimpering.
Carter ran into the sitting room, lifted Mildred up, and ran down the hall to the porch. Dawson grabbed her purse off the hallway floor. I said, "Let's see what else--"
He nodded and said, "One look."
I nodded. We ran into the bedroom. Most of the room was occupied by the largest bed I'd ever seen. I walked over to the bureau. On top, I saw a wallet and a money clip and grabbed both. Dawson was opening drawers as fast as he could. We both heard the man's whimpers change to growls.
We ran out into the hall. The man was trying to stand up and having a hard time doing so. Without waiting to find out what he might do, we ran out onto the porch and into the bright daylight.
The taxi was waiting and the doors were open. I jumped into the back with Carter and Mildred while Dawson got in the front with Andy and the driver. As I slammed the door, I yelled, "Go!"
The taxi peeled out and off we went.
After about ten minutes, Mildred came to. "Damn, my head hurts." She looked around the car. "What's happening?"
I briefly explained to her what had gone down after she was knocked out. When I mentioned how Dawson had taken down Shorty, she giggled and then winced. "Ow, my head." She put her hand on the back, felt around, and said, "Well, there's no lump so I suppose that's good news. Where are we goin'?"
I just smiled and said, "Home."
. . .
As we pulled up to the airport, I looked at the microphone/watch that Wallace had given me to wear for the wire. Realizing it wasn't moving, I asked Carter, "What time is it?"
"Just before noon."
As we rounded the terminal building, I could see the bright silver bird on the tarmac. The #1 and #2 props were on. There was a stairway in place and Christine was standing in the door. She saw us, waved, and backed into the cabin of the plane.
"Is there a way to drive onto the tarmac?"
The driver replied, "Not that I've ever seen."
As he pulled the taxi to the curb, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed a hundred. As the driver applied the brake, I threw it over the seat to him. He looked down and said, "Damn, Mister. You need help with that lady?"
I looked over and saw that Carter was already out the door with Mildred in his arms and carrying her up the steps and through the terminal door at a fast trot.
I said, "No. Thanks." Dawson, Andy, and I piled out and ran in right behind Carter. I noticed Dawson was still carrying Mildred's purse. I felt my coat pocket where I'd stashed Shorty's wallet and money clip. They were still there.
As we ran through the building, a handful of people gawked at us. No one said anything as we ran through the gate door and out onto the tarmac. Carter was up the stairs in a flash, with Dawson, Andy, and me pulling up the rear. Christine yanked me in, closed the door, and locked it. She yelled, "Secure!"
I heard Captain Morris yell back, "Roger that." I looked up front and saw that the cockpit door was open.
Carter was standing in the middle of the cabin with Mildred in his arms. She was saying, "Put me down, for chrissakes, if you ain't gonna make love to me." We all laughed as Carter carried her to the front seat on the port side, just behind the cockpit door, and gently placed her there.
Mildred said, "I ain't never flown before. How does this contraption work?"
Christine was all business and said, "Everyone take a seat and buckle in. I'll take care of her."
We all did as we were told. Captain Morris used the P.A. system and said, "Secure now."
I heard Christine snap Mildred's belt in place. She then took the front seat on the starboard side. Once she was in place, she yelled, "Go!"
The plane lurched back. I realized the #3 and #4 engines weren't on. As the plane moved, I could hear a scraping sound against the door. The stairway was still in place. As the plane moved in reverse, it turned to the side and away from the stairs. Suddenly engines #3 and #4 came to life.
I was sitting right behind Christine. Looking out the window, I could see that the stairs were just inches from the turning blades.
Swopes was in a small group of people who were gawking at us from just under the awning extending from the terminal building. Just then, I saw a man in a pair of blue overalls running away from the front of the plane with his hands on his hat and shaking his head.
The bird moved in reverse until the stairs had been cleared enough to allow the plane to turn. As Captain Morris began to move forward, he turned to port. The far tip of the starboard wing brushed against the stairs, moving them back a couple of feet. Everyone by the terminal building was pointing at us.
Finally, the ship was clear of the stairs and we could proceed to the runway. Once we were in place, Captain Morris revved the engines and we jerked forward down the runway. The plane began to lift quickly and, in less than a minute, we were flying over the Gulf of Mexico. I heard Mildred yell, "Holy Hannah! These things really do fly!" and realized I'd been holding in my breath, so I exhaled and relaxed as the plane continued to climb into the air.
Chapter 17
Hotel Tulsa
125 East Third Street
Tulsa, Okla.
Wednesday, July 21, 1954
Half past 7 in the evening
We were in the restaurant just off the lobby of the Hotel Tulsa. It was a big rectangle of a building in the middle of downtown. We were staying in Tulsa for the night. We didn't have enough fuel to make it back to San Francisco. At first, Captain Morris had said we would go to Fort Worth, but Andy had suggested leaving Texas, just in case the Rangers were after us. So we flew to Tulsa instead.
Mildred was upstairs in her room. Christine was going to stay with her for the night. They'd been to see a local doctor and he said that she probably had a mild concussion. Christine had been trained as a nurse and volunteered to keep an eye on Mildred instead of her staying overnight in a hospital. The doctor had consented to that so there were probably eating on trays and watching the television that every room in the hotel had. I had no idea what was showing. I didn't like television.
The rest of us were sitting in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant. Andy and Dawson were on one end. Carter was in the middle. I was next to him. And Captain Dawson was next to me. He was drinking bourbon and soda along with Andy and Dawson. I was on my second martini. Carter was on his second beer.
"So, what happened?" That was the captain.
Dawson grinned and said, "We beat the law, that's what happened."
Carter smiled and lifted his glass. "From both ends."
I rolled my eyes and gave the captain the highlights of how the morning had gone down. When I was done, I asked him, "Did the plane get damaged by the stairs?"
The captain shook his head. "No. But when we get back to San Francisco, I'm going to call the airport manager in Galveston and ask them how much you owe them."
I smiled. "What did I break?"
"The stairway was probably dented up. That's about it. But, I do
n't want to get a bad reputation so I'm going to handle it the best way I know how."
I looked at the man sideways and said, "How'd you handle it when you worked for Howard Hughes?"
Captain Morris chuckled. "Oh, that was easy. Everyone knows he's nuts."
Carter poked me in the arm with his elbow. "I'd stop while I was ahead, if I were you, Boss. I bet they're some things it's better not to know."
I took a drink of my martini and grinned. "You're probably right."
Andy asked, "Did you put the recording device in the mail?"
I nodded. "I sure did. I sent it to the Rangers' office in Houston. I'm sure they'll get it back to Wallace."
Dawson laughed for no reason. Andy turned to him and asked, "What?"
"I wish y'all could've seen Whitey take off like he did. He literally jumped from the house to the car. I'd swear his feet barely touched the ground."
We all laughed.
Carter looked to his right. "Dawson, you really know how to hit below the belt, don't you?"
He grinned. "Absolutely. But, did you see what I saw?"
Carter nodded and grinned but didn't say anything.
Andy asked, "What'd you see?"
Dawson guffawed. "A lot more than I've ever seen before, that's for sure."
That really cracked everyone up.
. . .
"How'd they treat you in the jail?" I asked.
Andy smiled. "It wasn't bad. The food was great. I was more worried about Dawson and you and what you might do to get me out. It never occurred to me that you'd just bring the dough."
Carter looked over at me. "What's ten grand considering the rest?"
I smiled and gave Andy, Dawson, and Captain Morris an overview of our experiences with the jail supervisor in San Rafael. By the time, I was done, the food had arrived. We got right to it and didn't talk much for a while.
. . .
Carter sat back contentedly and sighed. "That was one hell of a steak."
I was on my third martini and feeling pretty content myself.
Dawson looked over at me and said, "It's gonna be a while before you'll be able to go back to Texas."
"I don't know about that." That was Andy. "Of course, that Texas Ranger won't have anything for the grand jury. Why'd he even want you to do that?"
I shrugged. "Dunno." I swallowed the last of my drink. "He had to know I was wired."
Andy nodded. "Yeah. He wasn't taking the bait although I'm pretty sure I saw him lick his lips when you threw out the idea of even more money."
I nodded. I turned to Carter and said, "Say. When we get home we need to send Johnny Fontaine a big basket of flowers or somethin'"
Carter smiled. "Why's that, Boss."
"His fee, fi, fo, fum routine scared the hell outta Whitey and saved us another ten grand."
Carter nodded. "I'll get Marnie right on that."
"You do that. Meanwhile, take me--" In my slightly tipsy state, I had forgotten Captain Morris was with us until Carter nudged me.
He stood up and said, "I'm off. How about we meet in the lobby at 6 in the morning? We can be back in San Francisco by early afternoon."
I nodded as I scooted out of the booth. Standing up, I offered my hand to the captain. "Another almost perilous flight perfectly executed. Thanks again, Captain."
He shook and smiled. "You're welcome, Mr. Williams. As long as we keep these to once a year, or so, I'm fine with it. Sure beats the hell outta flying those Hollywood producers all over the place."
I winked at him. "But what about Marilyn?"
He shrugged. "She's a looker alright, but I got Christine." He made a sound like a tomcat and wiggled his eyebrows.
We all laughed.
. . .
We had a quick breakfast in the hotel before piling into two cabs and heading back out to the airport.
We didn't lift off until half past seven. Once we were in the air, I walked back to Christine and asked, "How was staying with Mildred?"
She smiled and said, "What I didn't know about gambling, serving hash, and good times with bad men is... Well, let's put it this way, if my mother had been there, I'd be having my mouth washed out with soap right now." She laughed and looked fondly towards the front of the airplane. Mildred was talking to Andy at length about something. "We had a lot of fun, mostly swapping stories and laughing. I'm surprised no one called to complain."
I smiled. "Those old buildings are sound-proof."
Christine nodded as she began to make coffee. "She's quite a lady."
Right then, Dawson walked up. "Can I get a cup when it's ready, ma'am?"
"You certainly may. And please call me Christine."
Dawson winked and nodded. "Um, Nick, can I have a word?"
He grabbed me by the elbow and led me to the rear of the plane. Looking towards the bedroom door, he said, "I'd like to give Andy a private tour of the rest of the plane."
I smirked. "Be my guest. Just keep it down."
"With these propellers?"
I nodded and said, "Yeah."
. . .
In all the rush, somehow Christine had managed to find bread, cold cuts, and pickles. I didn't know where she got them, but she did. Around noon Tulsa time, we all had lunch. Carter and I were on one sofa. Dawson and Andy were on the one opposite us. Captain Morris was eating with Christine back behind the galley. And Mildred was sitting in the cockpit on the jump seat, entertaining Captain Obregon.
At one point, Dawson stood up and looked towards the back of the plane. Like a Greek chorus, Carter, Andy, and I looked back, too. Christine and her husband were laughing and feeding each other pickles and paying no attention to us. Dawson put his finger to his lips and walked forward for a peek into the cockpit. After a couple of moments, he dashed back to where we were sitting and, like a teenage girl, described in detail how he'd seen Mildred feeding Captain Obregon by hand and the "yum" sounds the captain had been making.
They all laughed. I thought it was sweet. Real sweet.
. . .
The flight across the country was clear the whole way. And, the weather at home was more of the same, but better. Captain Morris took us over the bay, across the two bridges, and into the airport by making a big loop around the City.
Mildred had a real ball. Carter was behind her and kept pointing out different landmarks. She was saying things like, "It looks so tiny from up here!" and "I shoulda taken an airplane years ago!" and "This is so much fun!"
It began to dawn on me that it wasn't Captain Morris who had chosen the approach, it was Captain Obregon. If fact, when the plane tipped its wings one direction and then the other, Mildred laughed and said, "We must be over Half Moon Bay. That was the signal. Manny told me he'd drive me over there this weekend for a picnic lunch."
Sure enough, I looked down and we were flying right over the beach town, above the coastal hills, and on our way to the airport.
. . .
We landed in San Francisco at about half past 1 local time. Once we were at the small private terminal, Carter walked over to get the Mercury and pull it up to the airplane. After the car was loaded, we said our goodbyes to the crew. I walked up to Captain Obregon, who was now all smiles, and shook his hand. "That was a great landing."
"Yes. I wanted Mrs. Fontaine to see everything beautiful that is our City so she could remember why this is her home."
I smiled. "I hear you have a date this weekend."
The captain nodded. "Oh yes. What a vibrant woman she is. Thank you for hiring me for this job. I am so grateful to you for introducing me to your Mrs. Fontaine."
"Well, it was Captain Morris who did the hiring but I hope we'll see you on our next trip."
"Yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to escort Mrs. Fontaine to her home."
"Certainly, Captain. Good luck."
He nodded and walked over to where Mildred was chatting with Christine.
Once we were loaded in the car and on our way to the Bayshore Freeway, Dawson slapped m
e on the shoulder from the backseat. "It just wouldn't be an adventure with Nick Williams if someone didn't fall in love. Good job, Nick."
The other guys laughed. I turned and looked at Dawson. "But I didn't have anything to do with this."
Carter laughed. "You always say that, son, and you're always wrong."
I turned around to face forward. "Whatever the case, I'm glad Mildred is safe and back home."
Carter put his right hand on my thigh as he accelerated into the flow of traffic on the freeway. "Me, too, Boss. Now we can get a good breakfast in this town again."
I lifted his hand up and kissed the back of it. "You always know just the right thing to say, Chief."
Epilogue
1198 Sacramento Street
San Francisco, Cal.
Thursday, July 22, 1954
Around 9 in the morning
We slept in and had a lazy morning before going into the office. The day started off warm, so we had breakfast outside in the garden with John. Carter's mother was still staying over on California Street with Lettie and my father.
John was sipping from his cup of coffee. He said, "Roger is getting our place all packed up and ready to move. He's gonna fly out next Friday. The movers should be here the next week."
Carter and I were sitting next to each other at the small table while John had his long legs stretched out on a padded chaise lounge in the sunlight.
Carter asked, "Have you thought about where you want to live?"
John smiled. "I got my eyes on a house over there above Eureka Valley. It's on a winding street called Corbett. Has a swell view of the City from the kitchen. Needs some work, but Roger and me is mighty handy." His eyes were dancing as he said that. Carter and I both laughed.
"Are you all set for cash?" I asked.
John sat up and put his coffee cup down on the ground. "Sure, Nick. Uncle Leroy left me a half interest in the paper mills."
Carter asked, "Y'all have enough money until the sale goes through?"
John nodded. "We're fine. But thanks for askin'." He looked up at the blue sky and said, "Boy, I can't wait to call myself a real San Franciscan."
The Iniquitous Investigator (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 8) Page 20
