“I’ve heard of Ben Krane, but I don’t remember ever seeing him. And I’ve never even heard of his brother. Do you really think it could be him?”
“Maybe he was a customer who came into the office.” I told her what he looked like.
“I don’t remember seeing anybody like that.” She paused. “But we’ve done business with a lot of people. Maybe . . .”
“Maybe he bought something,” I said. “Will you check your records?”
“Yes. I’ll call you if I find anything.”
“Good. It’s probably not him but if his name’s in your books, I’d at least put him on the suspect list. Meanwhile, how gutsy do you feel?”
“Not very, to tell you the truth.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, the next time the guy calls, whoever he is, see if you can arrange a meeting with him. If you can, let me know when and where, and I’ll be hidden there when you meet him, if he shows up. Can you do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .”
“If you can’t, that’s okay. But if you can, maybe we can nip this thing in the bud, and Warren won’t ever have to know anything about it.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good girl. Don’t worry. Mr. Black will be the one who’s surprised, not us.”
Bold words, for it’s not unknown for the ambusher to be ambushed, the besieger besieged.
As I turned from the phone, I wondered how things were going to turn out between Mr. Black and me, and I thought of King Pyrrhus, who came to the oracle seeking foreknowledge of his upcoming battle with the Romans. “Pyrrhus the Romans shall subdue,” said the always correct and always ambiguous oracle; it was a prophecy of the original Pyrrhic victory, for though the king won the battle, he suffered such ruinous losses to his own army that he himself was soon overthrown.
Thinking these thoughts, I heard the first sounds of children waking up. It was a sweet sound of stirring and small noises, and as I heard it, my dark musings gave way and I felt blessed.
— 20 —
No wonder so few of the detectives in fiction were married and had families. With spouses and offspring and regular jobs taking up all of their waking hours, they wouldn’t have time or energy for detecting.
It was the same for cowboy heroes, now that I thought of it. None of them even had jobs, let alone families. They just had horses and skinny bedrolls that supplied them with everything they needed. Where did they get their money, anyway? They never worked for it. They rode into the movie, cleaned out the bad guys, and rode out again. Who fed them? Where did they get their horses? And who paid for all those six-guns and bullets?
Had Hollywood been pulling a fast one all of these years?
It was time for me to talk with my boss, who might be the only person who would tell me about his more serious enemies. No one else would, for sure. I rang his office. Judith Gomes answered in a cheerful voice that immediately grew cold when I identified myself. Ben wasn’t in. Yes, she’d have him call me. Click.
Click. A lot of people had clicked on me of late, so to speak. Was it my breath?
My daughter trotted out of the kids’ room and climbed up into my lap, rubbing her eyes. Her brother came out and got on the other knee. They seemed to like me, even if Judith Gomes and Peter Krane didn’t.
“Play with us, Pa.”
So I did that until the phone rang. I was the horse and they were the riders. I bucked Joshua off over my head and caught him before he hit the ground.
“More, more!”
But the horse stood up. “Later. Play by yourselves for a while and don’t hurt anybody. Joshua, you’re the biggest, so you keep a watch on Diana. Diana, be careful.” I went into the house. Ben Krane was on the phone.
I told him who I’d been talking with and more or less what they had declined to say about people who might be so mad at him that they’d burn down his houses. Ben did not seem pleased with my efforts.
“I don’t want you nosing around in my private life! Just go out there and find this firebug! Remember, I can fire you any time I want to!”
“We’ve been over that already,” I said. “What you call your private life is exactly where I and the insurance investigator and the fire marshal’s office are going to be looking to find out what’s going on. You can fire me if you want to, but you can’t fire those other guys.”
“Stay away from my brother, then! He’s got nothing to do with this!”
I was running out of patience with the whole case. “How do you know? Maybe he torched the places himself or hired somebody to do it. You piss him off somehow in the past six months?”
“No!”
I pushed it further: “Maybe one of your discarded women turned out to be tougher than he could handle. Maybe she told him that you laughed about what a punk he is and she decided to rub his nose in it. Most women will only put up with so much before they hit back. A smart one could get both of you with one stone.”
“Nobody did anything like that! You start spreading stories about me and my brother and I’ll sue your ass to kingdom come!” Lawyer threats were always good.
Almost always. “Sue and be damned,” I said, feeling loose and relieved by the prospect that he might actually fire me. “Meanwhile, if you want me to keep working for you, you come up with some names for me to chase down. I’m tired of people telling me what they won’t tell me!”
I could almost see him take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “All right, all right, let’s both calm down. You say nobody will give you any names, eh? Well, maybe that’s because there aren’t any names to give. I drive a hard bargain now and then, but I don’t cheat anybody.”
“I hear differently. I hear that some people think you screwed them royally.”
I could hear the sneer. “Some people are born losers. I’ve never violated a law or an agreement.”
“I’m less interested in whether you followed the law than in whether somebody out there hates your guts.”
“I don’t like that talk!”
“I don’t care. Are we going to go on like this, or are you going to give me some names?”
His voice became cautious. “Who do you have in mind?”
“I don’t have anybody in mind. That’s why I’m talking to you. You tell me whom I should check out.”
There was a silence, then, “I can’t think of anybody. There are probably a lot of people who don’t like me, but I can’t think of any who’d set fire to my houses, especially when they’re occupied. I don’t think I know any murderers.”
“What about a husband or boyfriend of one of your women? Any of them ever try to put a fist through your face?”
“Ah.” His falcon smile came over the phone into my ear. “Yes, there was one guy like that. He thought his slut had been done wrong. He lost some teeth trying to be Galahad. I think he and the little bitch both left the island. Good riddance.”
Ben Krane was one of those people who lived in a world full of sluts, jerks, and bitches. It was a sorry sort of life, I thought. “What was his name?” I asked.
“Let’s see . . . I’m not sure I remember. Some common name. Jones, or Smith, or Johnson. Something like that. I only met him that one time. He came at me in the parking lot, the dumb fuck, shooting off his mouth about what he was going to do to me for damaging his honey. I kicked him in the balls, then, while he was grabbing himself and squealing like a pig, I smashed his face into a car door. Self-defense, and there were plenty of witnesses that he swung first. No charges were filed.” Krane laughed.
“What was the woman’s name?”
“Linda. She was a looker, but there was nothing to her. She wasn’t around me for long.”
“You pass her on to Peter Porn?”
He flared. “Don’t talk about a member of my family like that!”
I almost laughed. “Or what? You’ll fire me? Sue me?”
“That and beat the shit out of you to boot!”
“We have a really great labor-management
relationship, Ben. Make up your mind. Am I still working for you or not? It won’t break my heart to get through with you and this job.”
I could hear what sounded like air being drawn through clenched teeth. Then, “We’re too much alike. That’s the trouble.”
“We’re nothing alike. Well?”
“Okay, okay. Take it easy. You’re still hired.”
“All right. Linda who?”
“Linda Carlyle. You know her?”
I tried to put a face to the name. “No.”
“Worked at the Harbor View last year. Waitress. The fighting boyfriend worked in the kitchen. I don’t think either one of them lasted the summer. Probably nobody wanted a toothless cook!” Again, Krane laughed.
I clenched my jaw. “They left the island?”
“How should I know? I never saw either one of them after the parking lot bit.”
“Anybody else I should track down?”
“Nobody as mad as the boyfriend.”
“If I come across any more names, I’ll be back to you. I’ll expect your check in tomorrow’s mail.” I hung up before he could say anything else. I could understand why Zee didn’t like him much.
Sometimes you can get a lot accomplished over the phone, but not always. I like to keep track of island cooks, because I like to eat and I get some good recipes by being cozy with the pros in hotel kitchens, so I knew Sid Silva, the chef at the Harbor View, and I gave him a call. He was out shopping, and the second in command was new in Edgartown and had never heard of Linda Carlyle. I asked him to have Sid ring me back when he got in.
“Pa, play some more.”
“For a while.”
“Good. Catch me!”
“Go outside, then. Not in here.”
The simple games are the best. We went out into the yard and ran around screaming and chasing and tagging and running away screaming some more until I was worn out. I lay on my back on the lawn and puffed, and the kids, almost too tired themselves, finally came and lay down on top of me, panting.
We looked up at the sky and watched the summer clouds shift shape as they eased downwind. I was actually almost asleep when I heard the phone ringing. I got the kids off me and made it inside in time to answer Sid’s fourth ring.
“I hear you were asking about Linda Carlyle. I haven’t seen her since last year. She quit working here and went off island.”
“She had a boyfriend who worked with you in the kitchen. Do you remember his name?”
“I should. Perry Jonson. He and Linda took off together and left me shorthanded right when things were busy here. Not that I blame him, what with him getting the crap knocked out of him by Ben Krane. You hear about that?”
“I heard. You say they left together? Off island?”
“So I was told. They lived together up in one of those houses in the woods that the college kids rent, then fill up with their friends so they can party and maybe actually save some money, too. Another girl who worked here lived in the same house. She told me they’d gone away and weren’t coming back.”
“You know where they went?”
“No. Down south someplace, as I recall, but I really don’t remember.”
“Did they stay away, or did they come back?”
“I never saw either one of them again, is all I can say.”
“What was the other girl’s name?”
“Peg Sharp. As a matter of fact, she’s back here again this year. Damned good waitress. Nice kid, too.”
“I want to talk with her.”
“Lemme check the work schedules.” He went away and came back. “She’ll be here tonight for the evening shift, but she’ll be busy.”
“I only need a few minutes of her time.”
“Okay. Come by just before six. She usually gets here a few minutes early. You can talk with her then.”
“Great.”
At half past five I got the kids into the Land Cruiser and drove into Edgartown. Knowing that the A & P-Al’s Package Store traffic jam would have cars backed up for a half mile, I went up to Dodgers’ Hole and cut through, along Metcalf’s Way, to the West Tisbury Road, where I took a left and went into town the long way roadwise but the short way timewise. The only solution to the A & P traffic jam is to run a cement wall down the middle of the street and prevent all left turns, since left turns are the principal cause of all traffic backups.
I’ve explained this to the chief and the selectmen time and time again, but does anybody listen to me? No. Just call me Cassandra.
From Main Street I took a left on Pease’s Point Way, a right on Morse, and a left onto North Water, where I actually managed to find a parking place right where I wanted one to be.
I got the kids out of the truck, and we walked up to the magnificent and nicely renovated old Harbor View. No one there seemed to care that we were wearing thrift shop clothes, and we went right to the kitchen. It was just before six, and Sid was hard at work with his kitchen crew.
“There,” he said, pointing with a spatula at a pretty college-aged woman with her hair firm against her head in those tiny, tight braids that look so hard to make and maintain.
I walked up to her, my children on either side, their hands in mine.
“Peg Sharp?” I asked.
She looked up at me with big dark eyes and nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m J. W. Jackson. Do you have a couple of minutes? I want to talk with you about Linda Carlyle.”
People were already going into the dining room, but she glanced at her watch and nodded. “Sid said you were coming. The lounge is pretty empty. We can talk there.”
I followed her into the lounge.
— 21 —
“I don’t have long,” said Peg Sharp.
“This won’t take long. I’m trying to get a line on Linda Carlyle and a guy named Perry Jonson. Do you know where they are?”
“More or less. They’re working down in Atlanta for the summer.”
“Have they been up here again since they left last year? This spring, maybe, or maybe just lately?”
Anger briefly touched her brown face. “No. They wouldn’t come back here. They’ll never come back.”
“Because of Ben Krane?”
Her eyes became hooded. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do, Peg. Ben Krane played around with the girl and then tossed her to his brother, Peter, who used her again and got rid of her. Then Ben beat up Perry when Perry went after him. Perry and Linda left here just after that. What I need to know is whether they’ve been back since.”
She seemed relieved to be free of the burden of secrecy. “No. Like I say, they’ll never come back here. You know about Peter Krane?”
“I’ve heard he likes to play dominant/submissive sex games with women, with himself cast as the boss.”
“Yeah, well, some women may like that sort of thing, but when he put chains on Linda, it about killed her. It was like slavery was back in fashion, and she was her great-grandma all over again. She fell all apart. There’s some psychological term for it, but I forget what it is. When he was through with her, though, she was a total wreck.”
“And Perry tried to get back at Ben.”
“Yeah. Nice try, Perry, but no go. He was going to get Ben first, then Peter, but he never got past Ben because Ben is some sort of martial arts freak. The two of them smartened up and got away from here. Not that it did Linda all that much good.”
“What do you mean?”
Sadness mixed with anger in her voice. “She didn’t go back to school. Started taking downers. I think it was to forget, you know? I think most people on downers do it so they can cope.”
I shared that view. “Perry wasn’t enough for her?”
“Perry means well, but Linda has to be strong in herself, and she hasn’t managed that yet. A woman can’t expect a man or anyone else to be the strength in her life.” Peg Sharp’s voice was rich and her eyes flashed.
“Even strong people need a little help som
etimes,” I said.
“Maybe. I try not to.”
I wondered who had hurt her but decided not to ask. “I’d like to talk with them,” I said instead. “Do you have an address or a telephone number?”
“No, I don’t. Maybe I could get one, though.” She looked at her watch, and I knew I’d about used up my time with her.
“Sid said that you and they lived in a house up in the woods last summer.”
“Yes, and isn’t that an irony! Ben Krane owns the place and that’s where he picked her up. She and Perry had had a spat and she was ripe for a smooth older man like Ben. According to what I heard later, Linda wasn’t the first woman Ben picked up from one of his own houses. He’s a sleaze, but he’s a slick sleaze, and he likes to rent to pretty girls who don’t mind a summer romance. This year I made sure I rented from somebody else! Look, I have to get to work. I’ll try to get Linda’s number for you. If I get it, I’ll leave it here with Sid. Okay?”
She edged toward the door, and I stepped aside.
“Three of Ben Krane’s houses have burned down since spring,” I said as she went past me. “They found a body in the last one.”
She gave me a startled look. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know for sure. I don’t think it was a college kid.”
Her expression became one of relief, which quickly changed to cynicism. “I’ll bet they have a lot of arson suspects,” she said, and went into the dining room.
It’s tough to be twenty. Your body will never be better, but your psyche can be pretty fragile.
I went into the kitchen and finally caught Sid’s eye. He came over. “I’m pretty busy.”
Vineyard Blues Page 13
