by Rick Polad
“I don’t know what, exactly. I didn’t hear it and neither did the officer. The police car pulled up and she was arrested after the car pulled away.”
The judge sighed. “Officer...” He looked down at the file. “Williams. Please approach the bench.”
“Officer Williams, did you hear the conversation between Miss Douglas and the person in the car?”
Williams took a deep breath. “No, your Honor, but...”
“So what is your basis for this charge?”
Williams shuffled from one foot to the other. “It was obvious what was going on, your Honor. And with the recent...”
The judge held up his hand and peered over his glasses. “Last I checked, there is no law against talking to someone in a car. Next time, please bring me something that is actually against the law. Case dismissed.” He turned to Miss Douglas. “Young lady, I have no doubt about the obviousness of what you were doing. And women doing that sort of thing have been dying, as Officer Williams was about to point out. I would rather not see your name in the paper.”
Ben led Laura out of the courtroom as the bailiff called the next case. He held the door open and glanced at the judge. He knew the judge had already forgotten about Laura Douglas and was only trying to get through the afternoon cases and get home to a martini.
Chapter 4
Spencer Manning’s phone rang at a quarter to seven Wednesday morning. He wasn’t up and had no plans to be, despite the ringing telephone. The machine would get it. He expected it to be a salesman, in which case the line would go dead as the message started. But it didn’t. The entire message ran: “You have reached Spencer Manning, Private Investigator. Please leave a message and I will call you back as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, you can page me at 733-555-5555.” Spencer listened with half an ear and tried to stay awake till the caller came on.
“Spencer, it’s Ben. There’s something I could use your help with. It’s a personal...”
Spencer untangled his legs from the sheet and reached the phone on the table next to the bed. “Hang on Ben, I’m here.” He waited for the machine to stop. “Okay Ben, sorry about that.”
“No. I’m sorry to wake you.”
Spencer switched ears and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t wake me. I just came in from my run.”
When Ben had stopped laughing he said, “That’s the biggest load of bull I’ve ever heard. Maybe staggering back from the bathroom, but certainly not running at this hour.”
“Now, Ben. Is that any way to talk to someone you need a favor from?”
“Who said I needed a favor?”
“I heard personal. Personal means favor. Favor means free. You should be building me up, not cutting me down.”
“Sorry. I forgot you were so sensitive. But I do need a favor.”
“Can you hang on a second?” Spencer asked.
“Sure.”
Spencer put down the phone and pulled on a sweatshirt that was laying at the foot of the bed. “Okay, shoot.”
“This may sound a bit strange. I had a client the other day. Prostitution. Same old thing. Nothing out of the ordinary except that she’s younger than the average.”
“How young?”
“Not sure. Driver’s license says nineteen.”
“Okay, probably not uncommon. What’s the problem?”
“Problem is she got to me.” Ben was silent, trying to decide how to explain.
Spencer waited patiently and yawned.
Ben continued. “I’m pretty used to the people that come my way, but this girl should be in college somewhere. She’s a nice kid who sure as hell doesn’t belong on the streets of Chicago.”
Spencer took a deep breath and yawned again. “Yet here she is on the streets of Chicago.” When Ben didn’t respond, Spencer added, “People end up where they don’t belong for any number of reasons. And there’s nothing you can do about it no matter how much you’d like to.” Spencer had seen more than his share of sad stories.
“Thanks for the lecture. I know all that. I’ve been thinking about it and feeling pretty damned helpless. This morning I decided I had to do something.”
“And that something involves me?” Spencer asked.
“I hope so. I’d like you to see what you can find out about her. I have a name and address. See if you can get some history. Where is she from? Any family? Anything that might help.”
Spencer’s eyebrows went up. “Help with what?”
Ben sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe keeping her alive.”
They were both quiet for a minute. Spencer thought about working for nothing, again, and decided he owed it to his friend. Ben had called after Spencer had solved his first case and had sent several clients his way. It was also a good cause.
“Okay, Ben. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great.” He gave Spencer the name and address. “When can you start?”
“Well, if you’ll give me time to pull on some pants, I’ll get right on it.”
They both laughed.
“Actually, I could use a couple more hours of sleep. I’ve been on an all-night surveillance case that ended a couple nights ago.” Spencer looked at the clock which showed a few minutes past seven. “How about I make some calls this afternoon?”
Ben smiled and felt his shoulders loosen a bit. “Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it. You’ve got my numbers.”
“Yup. I’ll let you know what I come up with.”
“Great.”
“Ben.” Spencer mustered his best serious tone. “Don’t get your hopes up. She’s not where she is because she has a lot of rosy options.”
“I know, Spence. But I can’t just sit and hope I don’t read about her in the paper.”
“Okay. You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”
“Not that good. Probably just some flaw in my childhood.”
“Yeah. But if you want analysis I’m going to have to charge you. We’ll discuss my fee over a beer—on you. We’ll see how many it takes to work off your debt.”
“Deal.”
They hung up. Spencer sat and thought for a minute. He could get history on almost anybody. That was the easy part. Doing something about it would be the trick. But maybe she was young enough to be salvageable. Yawning again, Spencer pulled the twisted sheet over him as much as a twisted sheet can be pulled, and went back to sleep.
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