Hunt for a Phantom

by Stephen L Brooks

  “Something smelled good.”

  Joe came over to her. “You’re sure you should be up?”

  “Yes. Yes, thank you Joe. The coffee smells good. And did you make eggs?”

  “My Indiana Jones omelet.” When she looked quizzical, he added: “I make it up as I go along.”

  She chuckled, but stopped abruptly.

  He rested a hand on her shoulder. “No need to feel guilty for laughing. Al wants you to be happy.”

  “I was happy because of him; of him and my family.”

  Rick came over. “I’m still here, mom.”

  She smiled as she touched his head. “I know. It’s just going to take a while to get used to.”

  “For me too, mom; for me too.”

  “Meanwhile, there’s plenty of coffee and there’s some eggs left,” Joe said. “Why don’t you try to eat something? You may feel better.”

  “Thank you. All right, Joe.”

  After he had prepared her plate and poured her coffee, and she had started at least making a show of eating, he dialed his house. “Jenny? How did you do last night? Good. Can you come over? I know Marge will appreciate your company. Okay. Love you.

  “Jenny will be over in a few minutes.”

  Marge smiled her thanks.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  During the night, while the Mitchells did their best to help the Flemings through their losses, the forensics team for the Baltimore City Police Department took charge of the hotel room. Banning and Taylor were allowed to observe but not participate. Taylor was permitted to stay out of professional courtesy, and Banning’s presence was predicated upon his agreeing to stay outside of the yellow crime scene tape. He got tired of standing in the hallway outside of the room and went down to the lobby. He tried to interest himself in a vintage National Geographic, cover dated June 1967, which was the most recent magazine the hotel had to offer. But although it was always one of his favorite magazines even breathtaking photos of unabashedly naked women of the remote village being explored had no pull for him. When Taylor came down the steps to report to him, he gladly put it aside and beckoned his friend over eagerly.

  “Well?” Banning asked. “What did they find?”

  “They do a thorough job, I’ll give them that.”

  “After the trouble they had a few years back, it’s understandable. Any DNA?”

  Taylor nodded. “They found a little DNA, some partial fingerprints, but no personal effects other than those of the father and daughter, and the other guy; at least according to a quick eyeball check.”

  “The presumed perp?”

  “Yeah. Just the three of them; the morgue guys should be here with the body bags soon. Funny thing; doesn’t look like this guy was here to stay long.”

  “The drawers and closets were empty?

  “Yep. That’s why I say he wasn’t gonna stay long.”

  “Where are your friends Grayson and Flaherty? They ditch you as soon as their homicide buddies got here?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t allowed much more access than you were, but I know how to watch and listen. I’ve got a few other tidbits that might interest you.”

  “What about Peggy? I saw her leave about fifteen, twenty minutes ago.”

  “I sent her to find an all-night coffee shop to get us some decent java.”

  Banning drew back in mock astonishment. “You told your female partner to go get the coffee? And where did she tell you to go?”

  Taylor chuckled. “That’s not a problem with us. Even when I volunteer to get coffee or sandwiches or whatever she goes to it almost before I’ve gotten started.” He shrugged. “She’s like that; seems to enjoy fetching and carrying for me.”

  “With hope of other things in return,” Banning said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Come on, Ed; you can’t be blind. She wants you.”

  Taylor bent forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

  “She makes it obvious; that’s for sure.”

  “And what have you done about it?”

  Taylor looked up, locking onto his eyes. “Nothing. And I intend to do nothing. I love my wife, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. I know it, you know it, and presumably Kate knows it. But does Peggy know it?”

  “She should.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “Look, she’s flirted with me a couple of times when we’ve been on stake-out. I’ve put her off, that it’s not the time.”

  “Has she asked when it is the time?”

  “Yeah. And I’ve told her it’s not going to happen.”

  “Does she believe it?”

  “I hope so.” Taylor was quiet a long time. “I have to admit, there are times when I look at Peggy and think a roll in the sack with her would be fun.”

  Banning’s expression anticipated the other shoe to drop.

  “But I love Kate, I made a vow before God to forsake all others for her; and I’m a man of my word. Whatever fantasies might creep in, I’ll never act on them with Peggy.”

  “Even when she brings you coffee?” Banning asked, nodding toward the door as Peggy returned with one of those segmented cardboard trays containing three tall steaming cups, a half dozen creamers, and assorted packs of sweeteners.

  “Coffee is served as ordered. Make your choice.” She put the tray down on a table and they each took their coffees, preparing them as they wanted.

  “I’ve seen you shoot,” Banning said, “and also throw a guy three times your size flat on his butt with judo. I didn’t know you were the domestic type, too.”

  “Oh yeah, I can be quite girly when the mood suits me. Just wish some guy would see that.” She gave Taylor a look over her coffee.

  Taylor indicated the front desk, to change the subject. “Isn’t that the same old gent who was running the desk this afternoon?”

  Banning looked. “Yup, that’s him. When I first saw him, I woke him up from his nap.”

  “You think he lives here?” Taylor asked.

  “From the looks of him, he probably does. Hope he finds more to eat than the nuts and pretzels at the bar.”

  “Maybe the bar offers other things,” Taylor said. “You know: sandwiches, wings; typical bar food.”

  “If the coffee there is any indication of the barkeep’s culinary talents, then no wonder the poor old fella’s so thin.”

  “He needs a woman to take care of him,” Peggy said.

  “You volunteering for the position?” Taylor asked and immediately wished he hadn’t.

  “No; but I have a position in mind with someone else I know.”

  Taylor cleared his throat and asked Banning: “Did the homicide boys talk to him?”

  “I saw two of the detectives a little while ago. Didn’t hear what anybody said.”

  “They probably wouldn’t have let you get close enough to hear anyway,” Taylor said. “Wonder if they got the driver’s license of our third party?”

  “Depends,” Banning said. “I don’t know if mine host believes in new-fangled horseless carriages.”

  “What?” Peggy asked.

  “Nothing. Come on. Like I said before, my ID lets me ask questions anywhere in the state. Let’s see what we can find out.” They followed Banning to the counter. “Hello there Mr. Upton; remember me?”

  Upton looked at him over his eyeglasses. You’ve never been insulted until Mr. Upton has looked at you over his eyeglasses. “Yeah, I guess I do. You still here, huh?”

  “I could say the same about you, Mr. Upton. When does your shift end?”

  “Shift? I don’t have no shift. I just work here, that’s all.”

  “And I can only applaud your devotion to duty. Why, I remember when we were talking before and you were guarding the identity of your guests. You refused to let me know anything about them.”

  “That’s my job,” he said, suspicion prompting that stare again.

  “Now, there were a couple of gentlemen here a l
ittle while ago talking to you. I think they were police. Did you keep your guests’ secrets from them too?”

  “Of course.”

  “Even though they were real cops?”

  “Being an innkeeper is an ancient...”

  “... and hallowed profession. Yes, so you told me. But you can tell me what those two detectives asked, can’t you?”

  “Well, I don’t know...”

  “Remember when I mentioned my friend who is a real cop? Well, here he is. And this young lady is his partner.”

  “Good evening to both of you,” Upton said, as though telling them to perform an anatomically impossible act.

  “Good evening, Mr. Upton,” Peggy said, lightly shoving Banning aside and coming forward. “You’re right: being an innkeeper is ancient and holy.” She smiled, and they could tell that Upton was distracted by her. “I’ll bet you keep a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

  Banning and Taylor stepped back to let her take over.

  “Well, yes. My clients pay me for my discretion.”

  “And even when detectives come and ask questions I’ll bet you don’t answer them.”

  Well... hey, wait a minute. You’re a girl.”

  Peggy smiled wider. “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t be no cop.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a girl!”

  Taylor glanced at Banning. Both knew Peggy’s temper could flame on faster than a bomb blast.

  “Yes, I am. But you know what? I’m still a cop. And I like being a cop. That’s because I’m curious. I like asking questions, and learning things. For instance, I’d like to know how you run your business.”

  “My hotel? Why do you want to know how I run my hotel?”

  “Well, you said you do it alone; that you’re the only one that runs this desk.”

  “That’s right.” Upton preened like a prize rooster, though a skinny one.

  “Then you see all that goes on in this lobby.”

  “That’s right. And a few other things, too.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “Well, we gotta keep track of the cars that park on our lot out back. Make sure only our guests park there.”

  “Oh? How do you keep track of that?”

  “I keep a card file of the cars that park here. Just a sec, I’ll show you.” He reached into a cubbyhole of the counter and pulled out an antediluvian cardboard box held together with several generations of tape. The cost of the rolls of tape that had gone into maintaining this box over the decades had probably been several times the original or replacement cost of the box. “Here, I’ll show you the list I made today.”

  As Upton pulled the card, Peggy slipped her Phone from a pocket and by feel thumbed on the memo function.

  “See? Here’s a list of the cars on the lot, when they came in, and when they were gone.”

  “Did you see them when they came and went?”

  “Well, no; that’s really a note of when I first saw them and when they were no longer there. I check every hour, though, if I’m not busy at the desk with a new customer.”

  Holding the Phone below the level of the counter, Peggy entered several tag numbers from the list.

  “How do you know which car goes with which customer?”

  “Oh, I’m not so worried about that. Besides, even if I can’t tell which is which, I know about when a car arrives and when it leaves.”

  “Within an hour,” Peggy added.

  “Yeah. Within an hour, ‘cause I check every hour.”

  “This fascinates me. Can I see the card from the day before?”

  “Sure.” He pulled out the card and Peggy took a quick glance at it.

  Only one of the cars on the list she had made had arrived the day before. She made a note of the tag number in her Phone, again by touch, holding it under the counter where Upton couldn’t see it. A quick surreptitious glance confirmed that she copied it right.

  “And you compare the comings and goings of the cars to the comings and goings of your customers, and that’s how you can tell which cars belong here and which ones don’t?”

  “That’s right.” Upton was obviously proud of his system, such as it was. He replaced the cards and slid the box back into its niche.

  “And I guess anyone who parks there and doesn’t seem to match one of your guests is someone who doesn’t belong?”

  “That’s right. And I just call the garage and get ‘em towed. That’ll learn ‘em, right?”

  “You’re right, Mr. Upton; that’ll learn ‘em.” She somehow brightened her smile a few more notches. “This was really fascinating, Mr. Upton. Maybe I’ll drop by another time.” She twitched her head toward Banning and Taylor. “Only then it’ll be without these two bozos, and we can have another nice friendly chat; just the two of us.”

  Upton actually grinned himself, showing a mouth to which a dentist had long been a stranger; so had teeth, for that matter. “I’d like that, miss. I’d like that very much.”

  She laid her hand on his, which was resting on the counter. “I’m looking forward to it. Good night, now.”

  “Good night.”

  The three started toward the door, Peggy working her phone. The other two knew not to speak until they were outside.

  “So you think you’ve got the killer’s tag number?” Taylor said.

  “Yes. He first noticed it at about the right time the day Grace disappeared and it’s been gone since we heard the shot yesterday.”

  “Gone?”

  Peggy grinned as the two men understood what she had found out.

  “But the owner’s still upstairs.”

  “Ahuh,” Peggy said, “it looks like the Mystery Corpse has a partner.”

  Banning knew without checking his watch that they were in the wee hours of the morning. He took another pull of his coffee. “It’s been a long day. Peggy, thanks for the caffeine. Hopefully it’ll be enough to get us all home safe and sound.”

  “Well, this isn’t the first time Ed and I have spent the night together. Right, partner?”

  Taylor cleared his throat. “I guess we’d all better get home to bed.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Peggy asked.

  “No. It’s an order from your senior partner.” Taylor’s tone suddenly became firm. “And by home, I mean each of us in his or her own home.”

  “I’ll give you a lift,” Banning offered to Taylor.

  “Thanks. And I’ll take you up on that.”

  “Guess I’ll have to go home all by myself, to a house where I’ll be all by myself.”

  They had reached Banning’s car. He unlocked it and Taylor opened the passenger side. “You could have invited your boy friend Mr. Upton home with you,” Taylor said as he pulled the door shut behind him.

  Banning heard a few interesting words from Peggy involving Taylor’s parentage as he slid into the driver’s seat and quickly pulled off.

  “Thanks for offering me a lift before she did.”

  “Sounds like right now she doesn’t exactly hold you in her highest regard.”

  “Well, if I had ridden with her there’s no guarantee where I might end up.”

  “In other words, she might not have ended up in her place all by herself?”

  “That’s right.”

  Banning thought of the good natured banter between him and Betsy. It had started as joking, and friendly flirting, and they had gone out a few times. But Peggy was obviously –-- make that blatantly --- pursuing Ed, a married man, and making no secret of it.

  He hoped his friend would find a way around it.

  * * *

  Ed carefully unlocked the door and entered his house. A light still burned in the TV room, though no sound came through. He unclipped his holster from his belt and tried to open the hall closet silently, but as always it was hopeless. The springs on the runners had died long before, and they had given up on trying to keep the runners in the tracks. The door always groaned and scrap
ed when you opened and closed it. He took down his lock box and placed the gun and holster inside, locking it both with the combination and the added Master lock he had installed. He replaced it on its high shelf and closed the door, failing again to muffle its complaint at having been disturbed at this hour. He wondered how his wife Kate and his daughter Lucy managed to sleep with the racket the closet door made, but they did. Unlike him, both were heavy sleepers.

  He went into the TV room and saw his wife sprawled along the sofa. Not lying down, but not sitting either. She had obviously fallen asleep over the TV, after muting a commercial. He looked at the screen. It was some movie on AMC. Yep, that’s what had happened all right.

  The remote was still clutched in her hand. He didn’t want to wake her, so he found the manual power button on the set and pressed it. The slight sound was more an electronic zap than a button click, but still it awakened Kate, who looked up at him through lids that had only half-opened and mumbled vaguely, “I was watching that.”

  Ed smiled. “I doubt it. What were you watching?”

  “That one with Morgan Freeman where he plays a cop, and Sean Penn is his partner.”

  “Seven?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Well, I know that’s not what was on when I turned it off. Not unless Morgan or Sean suddenly decided to stop hunting the serial killer long enough to romance Drew Barrymore. And since Adam Sandler was trying to break through her amnesia until she remembers that he was her boy friend, I don’t think that’s the case.”

  She was sitting up now, running a hand through her brown hair. “That’s the one about the blind dates, isn’t it?”

  Ed nodded. “Yes. And from what I saw, it’s nearly over. When did Seven start?”

  “I don’t know. About nine, I suppose. What time is it?” She straightened herself and started to rise.

  “Nearly three. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He put an arm around her to help her up, took the remote from her and set it on the TV stand. “What time did the kids go to bed?”

  “I don’t know. I sort of remember them kissing me good night, but I must have already been asleep.” She flipped the switch that turned off the table lamp.