by Helen Jacey
‘A bench, a chair on the floor. Could have been a fight. Nothing in the office.’
Lauder drove on in silence.
After a couple of miles, we passed a small painted chapel. An old lady was tending the strips of flowerbeds edging the grassy yard. The dahlias, hydrangeas and late summer roses were soothing after the horrors in the warehouse.
I said, ‘Aren’t you supposed to report murders?’
‘He can rot in there.’ But his eyes glanced at the chapel and then he added, ‘Somebody will find him soon enough. And you won’t mention it to anyone, either.’
‘You think I’m nuts?’ I glared at him.
But how I’d love to tell June and Dede. I hoped in time they’d read about it. I hoped it would make June feel safer, it could aid her healing a little. The thought calmed me down somewhat. ‘At least he can’t do any more harm to girls like my friend, or produce any more sleazy publications.’
Some kind of errand girl I was turning out to be. I felt bleak, a million miles away from Elvira Slate.
Lauder cleared his throat. ‘Types like Caziel don’t stay out of trouble for long.’ His voice had a more gentle tone.
‘You got any idea who did it?’ I asked. He thought for a moment, then shook his head.
Had Lauder wanted me to murder Caziel? Had he set me up? Was that what Dede’s pistol was really for? Or had Lauder killed Caziel before I got there? The corpse had been there for a while.
None of these theories felt right. Why the tantrum? Why force me to wear gloves?
Lauder lifted his hat for a brief moment to wipe sweat from his brow. I blinked the vile images away, taking another swig from the flask I hadn’t handed back.
The image of Caziel’s red eyes bored into my eyeballs. I saw the rotting and gnarled crater in his skull. I wouldn’t forget that anytime soon.
47
Back at the Astral, in my gloomy room, I slumped on the divan. I still held Violet’s purse, and the purse still contained Dede’s pistol. Lauder hadn’t asked for it back. An error? Or a test?
I opened the bag, examining the pistol. Fine lines but chunky. It lay in my hand, a pearly, ladylike killing machine.
It was mine until Lauder demanded it back, as he surely would. Until then, it was a form of protection, a form of power. Something to run with, something to shoot my brains out with, if it came to it.
Never the noose.
Absentmindedly, I opened the chamber.
A single bullet. Just one.
Lauder had sent me in to Caziel’s with a highly limited means of protecting myself. Another little joke? But now at least I had a gun and that counted for a lot.
I’d never bought ammunition in my life but until he collected it again, maybe I would start stocking up.
I had a long hot shower, standing in the primrose washtub, letting the water pound on my face. The smell of the citronella soap eased the memory of the stench that still made my tummy feel queasy.
Doing Lauder’s bidding had rid me of one of my enemies but I had wasted time trying to find Rhonda. I hadn’t let Beatty know what was going on. That job had to be the first in the line.
The bathroom was totally steamed up by the time I stepped out of the tub. I smeared a clear patch in the mirror.
Dark rings, white skin. I was the cadaver.
‘About time. I was beginning to think you’d had a change of heart.’ Beatty’s voice sounded relieved. I stood by the pay phone in Tina’s. I quickly explained two Zombies with a secret ingredient had kept me up late, and I’d been sleeping off the effects for most of the day. ‘I found out Darlene had a long-term lover. Olive Harjo. They’d hang out at Joyce’s club. So did Shimmer and Rhonda. So they could have known each other, but Joyce didn’t know if they did.’ I told her Joyce was even part of the plan for the girls’ new start and was as surprised as anyone about the overdose. I didn’t need to mention I recognized a certain saxophonist, so didn’t.
Beatty hadn’t heard of Olive Harjo but she agreed visiting her was a good idea and I should go right away. ‘Find out what was behind Darlene’s trip to The Flamayon Hotel. Find out if she was using heroin again. Grief could make her wanna spout forth.’
I told her I’d do my best. I hung up, only to see a tall man standing behind me. I assumed he wanted to use the telephone. ‘All yours.’ I said, stepping aside.
‘I don’t want to make a call, Goldilocks. I just want to talk to you.’ His velvety face split into a grin revealing square, ivory teeth. ‘Why don’t you and me sit down and get to know one another.’
I’d never seen him before in my life. He was dapper in a crisp, pale gray suit and pale green shirt, flattering his rich warm skin. His tie was dark red with a fine woven diamond pattern in gray and green. His brown hat was edged with thick gray ribbon. Overall, he was well turned out, but in a less exuberant way than some of the neighborhood guys in their baggy zoot suits and gold chains. He was definitely easy on the eye.
‘You’ve got the wrong blonde, mister.’ I smiled sweetly. I knew I was a novelty attraction in these parts, but most guys either snuck a quick glance or ignored me. This one was the first guy to actually hit on me and rippled with confidence. As nice as he looked, what good would that do me?
We were alone in the coffee shop. Even Sandy, who normally buzzed around the place, seemed to have gone. If he wanted to buy me a drink, maybe I should let him. Spending a little time looking into these big eyes on the wide, high cheekbones couldn’t hurt. I hadn’t actually been inside a local bar yet, for fear of talk getting back to Lauder. But there was something about this man that could encourage me to risk it.
‘I’m Elvira Slate. You are?’
‘Clarence Johnson.’ He smiled at me. He wasn’t malicious or friendly. He was genuinely amused. Amused – but with an edge.
Clarence. The Mr.Clarence? It suddenly dawned on me. Now I knew exactly who he was – the other guy up the telegraph pole near Caziel’s dive. Now he was out of his telephone man overalls, he looked very different. I suppose I did, too. The last time he saw me I was in a stained negligee and handcuffs.
It explained the confidence too. He knew perfectly well I could call no shots.
I didn’t have to ask, but did all the same. ‘Lauder’s buddy?’
His pearly whites flashed again, now with the gleam of sarcasm. ‘Me and you have got some catching up to do.’
I put my hands on my hips, acting tough. ‘Is it all right with him I talk to you?’
He leant forward. ‘It’s all right with me. Look at you. All skin and bone. Why don’t I treat you to a banana sundae? They’re real good here. Or are you feeling kind of sick? Something turned your stomach? Seen too many dead bodies lately?’
So Lauder had filled him in already.
I glared back at him. ‘You know the latest gossip. Say, as you’re asking, I wouldn’t mind a drink. A real one. I had a real rough day.’ Seeing as Lauder was behind this latest rendezvous, I would definitely take advantage of Clarence’s company to enjoy a local bar.
‘Here’s just fine. And I can smell liquor on your breath.’
‘Are you a cop?’
Good cop, bad cop. All the same to me.
‘Sit down, Goldilocks.’ He jerked his head at a corner table. It was the end of a row of narrow tables that lined the far wall, away from the window. Each table was covered with gingham wax cloth, edged with two banquettes covered in cracked dark red leather. I chose one facing the window.
Clarence took the opposite banquette. There was still no sign of Sandy. I wondered then if he’d asked her to leave.
‘Coffee would be nice.’
‘That can wait.’
‘So no coffee. No liquor. What’s this about?’
After a while, Clarence cleared his throat. ‘You know, Lauder picked up Caziel’s henchman, Jose. That’s how he knew where to find him.’
‘So?’ Indifference could mask an unsettled feeling. The sense I was about to be played. Was Clarence the good
cop? Lauder who stayed schtum, and gave the orders, but Clarence softened the edges?
‘Caziel was obsessed with finding Minnie, or so Jose said. So we figured you could pay him a little visit, surprise him.’
‘Why didn’t Lauder just go there and arrest him? I’m useless, can’t take the stand.’ I genuinely did want to know the answer.
Clarence read my mind. ‘But you are handy for getting him to talk, thinking we have a witness, even if we don’t. Caziel had no reason to believe you aren’t Minnie. He didn’t know about your fake identity.’
‘Talk? You mean confess to the porn books? His word against yours, surely, without evidence. I didn’t see anything inside, just a load of linoleum rolls. Lauder knows all this anyway. Waste of time. Yours too, by the way.’
His eyes met mine. I raised my brows, as if impatient. He definitely was weighing something up. Finally, he leant back and folded his arms. ‘Randall – I mean Lauder – doesn’t want you to know any of what I’m about to say. He wants to keep you in the dark. Well, I don’t, so pay attention. But this conversation stays between me and you.’
My eyes met his. Here was a stranger to me, going behind Lauder’s back? Three words came to mind. Gift horse and mouth. I sat up, totally alert. ‘Sure.’
‘So your arson attempt worked. Destroyed everything. Lauder and his partner Stan Perrin were down on the porn stuff. Caziel’s smutty books travel far and wide, and they were planning to bust him. Then something else happened.’
I stared at him. ‘Stan Perrin’s the one on sick leave?’
Clarence frowned. ‘No. He’s dead. Jeez. Is that what Lauder told you?’
I nodded but my mind was absorbing every new fact like a dry sponge flung into the LA river. Dead.
‘Like I said, he sure doesn’t want you to know anything. The whole point of the surveillance job was to catch Caziel and a certain bent Vice cop together. The fire ruined that chance, too, because Caziel went into hiding. Just luck that Lauder picked up Jose.’
‘What do you mean, a bent cop?’ Wasn’t Lauder himself a bent cop? Even sheltering me was morally dubious, let alone everything Shimmer had shared with me.
‘Another cop in Vice has been paid off by Caziel. Lauder’s partner, Detective Stan Perrin, was found dead at the wheel of his car, shortly after he called Lauder saying he’d got a new lead on Caziel, and it didn’t look good for the LAPD. Next thing, Stan’s dead.’
I froze, processing this.
‘Next, a friend of mine gets picked up, with a gun in his trunk. Matches the weapon used on Perrin. Now Caziel’s dead, my guy is facing the death penalty.’
I tried to fit things together. ‘So the bent cop framed your friend?’
‘Correct. When this cop arrests my friend, that’s when Randall…when Lauder smells a rat. He keeps eyes on him, gets on his side even though they aren’t exactly work buddies, convinces him he believes his story. It’s only a matter of time before he visits Caziel. That’s why we were lying in wait when Minnie flounces in. I want to prove my friend’s innocence, and Randall wants true justice for Perrin. The Murder Squad buys the cop’s story, so nobody’s looking for Perrin’s real killer. A black man is an easy target. My friend had a few brushes with the law when he was young, but what black kid hasn’t in this town? In this nation? He’s married, three kids. The last thing the LAPD want is to point a finger at their own.’
True justice. Clarence’s version of Lauder had some honor and guts. I had got in the way of their attempt to corner the cop with Caziel, their only chance of helping the framed guy. I fiddled with Violet’s purse, realizing Clarence hadn’t demanded it back yet.
‘Even if your friend was framed, how do you know it was Caziel who killed Perrin in the first place? Even if you’d caught him alive, with pornography, how could you pin the murder on him? He would never have confessed to murder. And the bent cop could just deny it all.’
‘Lauder’s idea. Along the lines of rats leaving a sinking ship. As I said, that’s where you came in today.’
Lauder would turn the screw on Caziel using my identification of him as a threat. The bent cop would have to confess and Lauder would expose the cop to free Clarence’s friend.
But with Caziel dead, none of this could happen.
Clarence looked down, deep in thought. Even lowered, his lids had a slight crease in them.
I absent-mindedly picked at Minnie’s remnants of pink nail polish. Cheap stuff and one coat. Flakes flew off like miniscule confetti. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly swept it off the table onto my lap before Clarence noticed.
‘So you think the bent cop got to Caziel first? Tying up loose ends?’
‘No. Somebody else must have got to Caziel. Like I said, Lauder has been keeping tabs on the cop the whole time since Perrin was shot.’
Tabs? Lauder kept tabs on me, this cop, and probably a whole heap of people. He couldn’t watch us all, all the time.
‘Who, then?’
‘You tell me.’
I squirmed in my seat to wipe away the sweat now running down my back. ‘Surely that Jose guy could talk? He just has to say his boss killed Stan Perrin and that his boss was working with the bent cop.’
‘What planet are you from? A spic gunman versus a white cop? Turns out Jose was kept in the dark. Didn’t squeal under pressure, and had no reason not to.’
I could see it. Jose getting a good pummeling from Lauder.
With one hand, Clarence pulled a box of chewing gum from his pocket, and popped one in his mouth. As an afterthought, he said, ‘Want one?’
I shook my head. ‘How do you know your friend was framed? Is there any way he could be involved?’
Clarence didn’t answer for a while. ‘He’s innocent. I know it like I know the sun shines today. Like I know it’s your fault he will die an innocent man.’
He stood up.
Conversation over.
The fire had helped June but triggered a horrendous sequence of events for Clarence’s friend. I wanted to help June and find Rhonda, not get pushed into a boiling vat of guilt. I stood up too, protesting. ‘Look, I went to Caziel’s to help someone, not ruin some guy’s life. How could I know it would end up like this?’
He was looking out onto the street. He scoffed. ‘Well, now you do.’
No answer to that. Even doing good, I managed to wreck things.
I watched Clarence’s jaw relentlessly chewing, a sure sign of anger. It reminded me of Lauder’s muscle twitch. From everything I had heard, there had to be a close bond between them.
Clarence resented me now, probably even more than Lauder did. To Lauder, I was a means to an end. A useful tool in getting true justice, whatever that was in his book, for a colleague who was already dead. Maybe some other tasks, before he was through with me. But to Clarence, I was the reason his friend languished inside and would face the chair. I was useless now but at least he could make me feel guilt. And he wanted me to take a form of responsibility. That made me realize he still saw some degree of humanity in me. Lauder just thought I was beyond redemption.
‘What’s your friend’s name?’
I saw the cold glare of his eyes, weighing up if I was worth telling.
‘Arnie…Arnold Moss.’
Wait! I knew the name. I dredged my memories. The face in the paper, in Mikey’s bar?
‘What about the cop? Do you know his name?’
‘Jim Fraser. Vice Squad, like Lauder.’
Jim Fraser. The Jim in the pub that Lauder held back from hassling me? I asked, ‘Is he a big guy, a drunk?’
‘Never saw the guy. But yes, likes the booze. Why?’
Jim’s abusive rant. It all made sense. That was why Lauder was there. He was watching him, the cop who worked with his partner’s killers. Keeping tabs.
‘I think I know him.’
Clarence turned to face me. ‘You know Jim Fraser?’
I explained to Clarence that a drunk called Jim had pounced on me in Mikey’s, thinking I was
a newspaper girl. That he was shouting about a cop killer facing justice. That Lauder had held him off me.
Clarence listened intently. ‘You saying you met Lauder before we caught you at Caziel’s?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, the day before. Destiny laying it on thick. Did Lauder tell you all about my past?’
Our eyes met again. Clarence’s seemed less hostile. ‘I got the lowdown. Said you’re a killer.’
‘For the record, I shot two men to protect somebody and save myself.’
Clarence shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything about you. You should feel bad about a man going down, but maybe you don’t.’
I didn’t answer.
He added, ‘Don’t say a word of this to Lauder. Not if you know what’s good for you.’
‘If it makes you feel any better, he owns my life. I don’t have any say. It’s not death row, but I’ve been close.’
Then he did something that shocked me. He held out his hand. To shake mine? Why? I had ruined everything, in his eyes. I wasn’t used to being treated like an equal by anyone. Even so, I slipped mine in his. It was a warm and solid grasp.
‘How do you know Lauder?’ I asked, seizing the opportunity for information now we were on handshaking terms.
‘We go back.’
‘Funny, only last night I saw a picture in a magazine of Lauder, with his fiancée. I forget her name. Lara, or something? She’s pretty. You know her? Oh, what’s her name?’
