The Complete Matt Jacob Series

by Klein, Zachary;

  “Yep.”

  “I’d say a very quick hire. And dumb. Shit, all you got to do is ask Julius. He’ll get you the name.”

  I didn’t want to ask Julius. Somehow I began to feel suspicious of the little dregs of information Phil kept feeding me. “You give me just enough material to keep me in the dark.”

  Before he answered I heard a peal of laughter from behind my head. I knew who it was coming from.

  “I know why he likes you, private cop. You’re as suspicious as he is. Do you have a name?”

  I swiveled around to look at her directly. “Matt. And you?”

  “Red will do.”

  I nodded my agreement, then turned back to Phil and his slight smile. “She’s right. That’s some of why I like you. Also, Julius told me you didn’t run my name. It wouldn’t matter, but that was thoughtfill.”

  My suspiciousness evaporated before he finished. Too many ugly hours, too little sleep. I rubbed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Phil. I’m not wrapped very tight these days. I’m lost in this fucking case. I can put faces into roles and names to the faces, but I don’t know what the hell is going on or why. It all feels ass-backwards.”

  He sat back down on the stool. “I wish I could help you. I seen this plenty. That’s why it’s an open case and not closed.” He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you’re working on one that’s not even open. Look, there’s no right way to figure things out. You just grab at whatever’s flapping and hope it takes you somewheres. Ass-backwards is a state of mind.”

  He sounded like Lou. His words gave voice to a buried optimism, and I smiled and thanked him. He told me what I owed for breakfast, and I thanked him again. The terrific coffee was free.

  So was the outdoors, but the java was the better deal. The dirty sky had turned up the brightness notch, which made it just possible to see the drizzle. It was cold and clammy and made me wonder about the climate in New Jersey. Probably the same, only a little warmer. I pulled my jacket tighter against the chill. This wasn’t going to be a vacation. I thought back to the times my first wife and I used to go to Jersey. Her family lived there; those were supposed to be vacations.

  I started the car and pulled slowly into traffic. I was tired but fought the urge to rush. I doubted Holmes and Dr. James could get there before the light amped up a little more. I pointed the car in the direction of my house and hoped it knew the way home.

  The idea made me chuckle. My house. The one next door was mine too. I tried to remember what the front of it looked like. I couldn’t, so when I got to my block I parked on the street instead of in the alley. I was standing on the sidewalk comparing the different facades when Charles came flying out the front door, his green plaid flannel nightshirt flapping in the wind and rain. He was wearing matching plaid slipper socks that wrapped around his partially exposed calves. I immediately decided to spend some money on Charles this Christmas.

  “Matthew, I’m glad you decided to park in front. I would have met you in the back but sometimes it’s difficult to hear over the noise from the parking lot.” He was breathless from his run.

  “Slow down. What’s so important?”

  His head drooped and his shoulders sagged. I almost reached out to keep him from slumping to the ground. He looked back up at me. “I blew it. I fucked up.”

  “Charles. Stop the operetta. What’s going on?”

  He looked at me with Mastroianni eyes. “I let them into your apartment.”

  “Let who in?” I didn’t know whether I sounded scared or angry; but Charles had just lost his Christmas gift.

  “It was a short hairy man and a lady who looked injured. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.”

  I was relieved. “No problem. I’m glad you let them in, but be careful now. I’m still in the shit and it feels closer to the fan.”

  “Sounds like you are in trouble?”

  I started toward the front door. “Come with me to the apartment, will you? I might need your help.”

  Holmes was eyeballing the Bakelite when Charles and I entered. Gloria was sitting on one of the two chairs that my grandfather had happily salvaged from Dutch Schultz’s bar. She’d pulled the chair over to the kitchen table and looked uncomfortable and distracted.

  “Why don’t you sit in the living room? The chairs are more comfortable. You might want to lie on the couch.”

  She smiled gratefully but stayed where she was. Holmes walked into the kitchen and motioned impatiently toward Charles. “Your friend let us in. If he hadn’t we would be standing in the rain.” His head was tilted up and he was glowering.

  “Gee, I’d have thought you’d get back into your car.” Breakfast began to bunch in my belly.

  He snorted and looked at me with annoyance. Absence hadn’t made his heart grow fonder.

  I turned back to Dr. James. “What did the doctor say?”

  “She said that by the looks of it I was in serious trouble. But no permanent injuries. A slight concussion, a broken arm . . .”

  “Set correctly, Matt. Just want to reassure you.” Holmes’ sarcasm irritated me and I wished I had a muzzle.

  “Set correctly,” Gloria agreed. She ignored Holmes’ belligerence. “She also hoped you know what you are doing.”

  “Me?”

  “She was concerned that I didn’t want it reported to the police.” She looked away. “Among other things.”

  I looked at Dr. James with more confidence than I felt. “I hope you didn’t tell her how you decided to hire me.”

  She smiled painfully through her bruised lips. “That seems so long ago. Why did I decide to hire you?”

  Holmes reached out and grabbed the edge of the table. “Don’t we have better things to do than flirt?”

  “Jesus, Holmes, what the hell is up your ass?”

  “Nothing. A couple of hours ago you sounded like Chicken Little. Glo is in danger, I’m in danger, and now we’ve been cooling our heels while you are off doing god knows what.”

  “Elating breakfast.” I could hear Charles swallow from the corner of the living room where he’d gone to be clear of the fray.

  “Was it good?” Holmes sneered.

  “Great. What is the matter with you?”

  “He’s scared.” Gloria’s voice was quiet but firm.

  I told him, “Look, I didn’t mean to imply that you were on a hit list. It’s pretty unlikely that you are in any serious danger. They wanted those records and they got what they wanted.” I looked over at Dr. James. “There are no more copies, are there?”

  “No.”

  I turned back to Holmes. “No one has to panic. Just be careful.”

  “It isn’t that.” Gloria spoke before Holmes had a chance to. “He isn’t afraid of getting hurt. Or of our getting hurt. He just can’t tolerate this much helplessness. As long as Eban is in control everything is fine. Only now I won’t let him make the decisions.”

  She stared at Holmes and tears started down her raw cheeks.

  They were in my home, but I felt like an intruder. Their relationship was shifting, sliding into a lacuna of unexplored feelings. I’d spent too many Thursday mornings avoiding this sensation not to notice the signs.

  “Again I have to deal with your displaced anger?” Holmes tried to maintain his sarcasm but now there was a wariness, a caution in his voice that wasn’t there before. “We have discussed this in the past and I am sure we will discuss it again. But why are you so damn angry with me now?”

  “I’m angry at me, Eban. For ten years I’ve deferred to your brilliance and control. I know we’ve talked about this, but it always seemed so abstract or loaded with jealousy toward Yvonne.” She shook her head. “All of this,” she waved her good arm wearily including everything in the room, including me, “changes things. I really don’t want it the old way anymore.”

  “I don’t understand …”

  Although I couldn’t fill in the details, I knew what she meant. And Holmes did too.

  Dr. James grimaced as a jolt
of pain flashed across her face. I wondered what her doctor gave her. The look passed and was replaced by a flat coldness. “Nothing more needs to be said now.” There was a finality in her tone that brooked no argument.

  She looked toward me. “I need to sleep. I don’t like the idea of not going home, but if you think I shouldn’t, I won’t. But please, can we get organized now?”

  Charles excused himself to get dressed, saying he’d return shortly. I nodded my thanks, then reached over to the phone and dialed Boots’ number. Holmes kept trying to meet Gloria’s eyes and avoid mine, but Gloria kept her eyes closed.

  The line was busy. I cursed and lit a cigarette. Although I no longer felt like a stranger, the tension in the room was still high. Everyone remained quiet while I picked the phone up and dialed again. The line was clear now, and I waited expectantly.

  What I heard was another recorded message on another fucking machine. “Sorry, blah, blah, blah, will be away for just a day or two at most, please leave a message.” I thought of the busy signal and wondered if she was in the apartment and just screening calls. I thought about hollering into the machine, but before the message signed off, she dated it. It had been left yesterday. The busy signal was just someone else trying to get through.

  I sat down in the chair closest to the phone. Holmes was on me like a lousy smell. “What’s the matter? Has something gone wrong?”

  I had enough problems without his voice cutting across my brain like a Philip Glass composition. Over his shoulder I could see the wallboard where Mrs. Sullivan’s bulb was mounted. I lit another cigarette to keep from grabbing Holmes by the throat. I wanted Gloria and her doctor to have faith in my ability to deal with the situation. I looked at the light again and caught an idea.

  “Listen, Eban, you’ve been at me all night. I don’t really know what’s happening between you and Dr. James. But it ain’t me.” There wasn’t a trace of anger in my voice. Just a quiet man-to-man. At the sound of my words Gloria opened her eyes. Holmes glared but I kept my eyes steady.

  “I wouldn’t be too certain of that.” His voice contained a healthy chunk of hostility, but the rest of it began to drain from his body. Hell, he was tired too.

  I inadvertently glanced toward Gloria but she had her eyes closed again. I kept my voice soft. “Look, Eban, we’ve been thrown together by something that’s dangerous. Two beatings and a murder’s worth. When all this began you talked about dealing with first things first. We got to do that now.”

  He rubbed some exhaustion from his face and said in a neutral tone, “What exactly are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking two things. First, it makes more sense if you don’t know where Gloria is. In the unlikely event someone does locate you, you’ll have nothing to hide.”

  He was already shaking his head before I finished my last sentence. “Absolutely not. And frankly, I think it’s time to inform the police. I don’t want you to misunderstand—it’s clear that you have Gloria’s well-being in mind, but you are extremely inexperienced. Supposedly someone is dead. I think it’s probably time to involve professionals.”

  I tried to leave the “supposedly” alone, but couldn’t. “I know what you mean. I felt that way earlier about Gloria’s arm.” I gritted my teeth, then forced myself to continue. “I was wrong then, and you’re wrong now.”

  I looked at him evenly. “I don’t intend to try to sell you on anything. I’m especially not going to sell myself. Gloria will have to determine whether she wants to trust me or not. And, in some ways, so will you. But even if neither of you do, I still wouldn’t go to the police. They are up to their necks in this nightmare. I’m sure of it. You won’t be doing anyone any favor if you go to them.” I shrugged in the general direction of Dr. James. Her eyes were wide open.

  I turned my palms up toward Holmes. “I’d like to think your suspicions of authority extend beyond psychiatrists.” I waved my arm around the room. “We know that some police have been involved with this from the beginning. I don’t think now is the time to imagine any of them our allies. Take a week off and go somewhere. If you want to stay in touch I can work something out with Charles. He has a machine. But for Christ’s sake, keep it minimal. The more noise you make the more potential risk it creates for Gloria. The cops’ involvement makes everything incredibly complicated.”

  I didn’t have much fight left. If he kept up his resistance I was going to throw him out and cope with whatever happened. But he turned toward Dr. James and waited.

  Gloria kept her eyes on me and thought for a long moment. In the quiet, looking at the woman’s battered face, Holmes’ point about my inexperience didn’t seem far-fetched.

  “Do what he says.” Her voice was as opaque as the look in her eyes.

  “Why?” His voice was cold.

  “If he says not to go to the police we shouldn’t. I hired him to clear this up. Matthew’s a lot of things but he isn’t stupid.”

  I was too tired to figure out whether I was pleased or insulted. Holmes seemed to be rousing himself for another skirmish, but Gloria cut him off. “I want you to do what he says. I want him to finish this. I want you to be safe.” She shook her head ruefully. “Even Yvonne. Please, Eban, just do what he says.” Her voice was so utterly sapped of strength that if Holmes offered one more note of obstinacy I would see that the talking stopped.

  Charles tapped on the door and let himself in. It broke the strained silence.

  Holmes turned toward me and nodded toward Charles. “What about his number?”

  I looked at Charles. “I want to give Eban your phone number as a message drop.” I’d tell Charles where to drop the messages later. Right now I wanted to ease Holmes out the door. “Eban may need to get in touch.” I hoped his ego would keep him from calling, but I also wanted him available to discuss Gloria’s cases. If I had to.

  “Also, Eban, please call with a number. I might need your help and should know where to reach you.” He didn’t look like he believed me. “I may need your perspective on the cases in the missing records.”

  He was partially mollified. Appealing to his expertise was something he liked. We sat silently and allowed fatigue an opportunity to replace the tension. Charles watched for a moment, then found a piece of paper and scribbled his phone number.

  “I’ll keep the machine on so there will be no possibility of missing your call,” he said to Holmes.

  Holmes nodded stiffly and rose. He walked into the living room and retrieved his coat. “I don’t suppose there is any need for me to stay around.” The words were spoken more to himself than anyone else. No one responded. Gloria had her eyes closed; I wasn’t sure whether she was sleeping. Holmes didn’t care. He bent down and murmured something in her ear. She nodded but kept her eyes closed. A look of frustration passed across his face, but he just stood upright and asked, “How do I get out?” Charles signaled that he would show Holmes the way and, after another awkward moment, they were both out the door.

  Dr. James’ eyes opened after she heard the door close. “That was very difficult.”

  I stayed silent.

  “It was nice of you to find a way Eban could save face. His pride is important to him.”

  “I noticed.”

  She looked at me sideways. “It’s not all false pride, you know.”

  I shrugged and waited quietly until Charles returned.

  “What now, Matthew?”

  “Mrs. Sullivan’s. I want to keep Gloria with Mrs. Sullivan. I don’t think anyone will roust the building looking for her. Maybe my place, but that’s all. I’ll take down the light. Do you think she’ll mind?”

  Charles began his high-pitched laugh but caught himself when he saw Gloria wince. “Mind? It will make her day.”

  Gloria spoke through her exhaustion. “Who is Mrs. Sullivan? Is she nearby? I have to sleep.”

  “She lives upstairs.”

  Gloria’s eyes opened. “Oh, that Mrs. Sullivan. I know all about her.” She smiled weakly, “It will be fu
n to meet her after all these years.”

  Charles looked perplexed, then remembered my relationship with Gloria and arched his eyebrows. “This really is quite a scene, isn’t it?” He looked at me. “There is nothing simple about you, is there?”

  “Did you bring extra clothes?” I asked Gloria.

  “Yes. I packed a small overnight case. I think Eban brought it inside with him.” Charles walked over to the couch, reached behind, and pulled it up and over. “Do you want me to come upstairs with you?” he asked.

  “I’d like you to see if Julius is home first and, if he is, bring him up there.”

  I grabbed Gloria’s bag and helped her to her feet. The movement brought tears to her eyes. We made our way carefully to Mrs. Sullivan’s apartment. By the time we arrived, Charles was there with Julius, and Mrs. S. was clucking as energetically as I’d ever seen her. My new occupation continued to suit her.

  I didn’t want to keep Gloria awake any longer than necessary. “Mrs. S., I need …”

  “I already know what you need.” She took Dr. James by the hand, and eased her toward the back of the apartment. “I think if you change you’ll be more comfortable. Then sleep, you need sleep, child.” Charles followed with the bag.

  I took out my cigarettes and offered one to Julius. I nodded him into the outer hall and lit the two of them. “Julie, I’ll explain what little I know, but I really need a favor.” He opened his bloodshot eyes a little wider. “Sometime tonight or tomorrow, whenever she can stand it, Dr. James has to go to her office to work on her files so we can find out what’s missing. She’s going to need an hour or so, and she is going to need protection.”

  Julie’s voice was a low rumble. “By the looks of it she already needed protection.”

  His remark was a slap, and it stung. “Well, whoever it was got what he wanted so I don’t think it’ll happen again. But I don’t want to take any chances. Will you help?”

  Julius didn’t say anything, just nodded. Slap and all, I felt relieved.

  “Phil says if I give you a composite you’d be able to make him.”