Chapter 24
A female voice came on. “Halo?”
“Can I speak to Maria?”
“No Inglèse.” It sounded like her grandmother.
“Excuse me, but no speaky Spanish. Is Maria there?...Si. Maria,” I repeated. The phone seemed to go dead for a few seconds.
“Hello?” It was Maria.
“Hi, Maria. Recognize the voice?”
“Let me think.”
I didn’t give her the chance. “It’s Bob, I mean, Mr. Klayman. From school.”
“Hi, Mr. Klayman.”
“Are you feeling better, Maria?”
“Yeah, I’m better. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Wow...I don’t know. Not much. Just sitting around getting ready for bed.”
“You’re sleepy so early?” she chuckled.
“Teaching takes a lot out of you. It’s a hard job.”
“You don’t work so hard, Mr. Klayman.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t, don’t worry.” She was giggling now.
“It’s good to talk to you, Maria.”
“I like you, Mr. Klayman. You’re a cool guy.”
“I like you too. Maybe we can talk in person... sometime.”
“I’d love that.”
“Well, I’m going out of town for a few days, but when I get -”
“You’re going away?”
“Yeah, I’m going to Arizona for a couple of days. I should be back later in the week -”
“Arizona? Wow! I wish I could go, too.”
“Really?” I was pressing my luck.
“Yeah, I’d love to go. I’ve never been out of this puta city.”
“Well...” I was thinking at ninety miles an hour. “You could come with me if you want...as a friend, I mean.” I couldn’t believe my own words.
“I could? I’d love to go.”
“Wait a minute. What about school?”
“That’s okay. It’s only a few days, right? I’m failing most of my classes anyway.”
I slipped into my teacher’s bag for a moment. “That’s no excuse, Maria. What would you tell your mother?”
“Oh, she don’t know what I do.”
“But she won’t see you around for a couple of days.”
“That’s okay, she don’t mind.”
“I don’t want you telling anyone you’re going with me.”
“You worry too much, Mr. Klayman. You’re sure you want me to go with you?”
She was dead right. I didn’t have much more to lose, anyway. “Of course. I’d love your company, Maria.”
“Okay!”
“All right, let’s see. I’ll pick you up in the morning. We need an early start so don’t sleep late. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave my house.”
“You got it all down, Mr. Klayman.”
“I’m just being responsible, Maria. By the way, where do you live?”
“2399 Crenshaw Boulevard...just off the freeway exit.”
I grabbed a pad and pencil and wrote it down. “Good. I can slip off the freeway and pick you right up. Don’t forget to bring a change of clothes.”
“You work fast, mister.”
“Someone has to do it. And don’t call me mister.”
“Okay.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll call you in the morning then.”
“Okay.”
I held her to the fire one more time: “You’re sure now?”
“Oh, Mr. Klayman, I told you already. It’s okay!” I wondered what our conversations in the car would be like.
“I’ll call you in the morning. You get a good night’s sleep.”
“Okay.”
“Bye, Maria.”
“Bye, mister.”
I hung up the phone. I hated when she called me that. It was a fifty-fifty shot she was going to show, but it was worth a try. I figured having her along would keep my mind off things, and if worse came to worse I’d go out in style. Sort of like “Bonnie and Clyde.”
I had one more call to make before going to sleep. I proceeded to dial. “Hello, Cal?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Bob Klayman.”
“Why are you calling me at this hour?”
“Sorry if I woke you. I just need to ask a favor.”
“Call me tomorrow, for crissake.”
“I need that favor from you now.”
“You already said that, for crissake.”
“I need you to look up someone’s finances for me. You know, what kind of savings and checking accounts they’ve got, securities, real estate, that kind of stuff.”
“Why?”
“Can you do it for me?”
“You’re playing Sherlock Holmes again?”
“Look, Cal, you didn’t keep your end of the bargain. You promised me a month of apprenticing and all I got was two weeks. The way I see it, you owe me a favor.” I had my fingers crossed.
“When do you need it?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll try. What’s his name?”
“Can you look up someone named Sheila O’Brien or Sheila Farrelly. Same person. Lives at 437 Raymond Avenue, Santa Monica. I’ve got to know if this broad has money.”
“You apprenticing to be a gigolo now? You need some lessons for that, too?”
“Cal, it’s important. I need you to do this for me.”
“Why?”
“Well…” I hesitated, thinking of something to say. “She’s a prospective client. I need to know if it’s worth sticking my neck out for her.”
“What’s the name again?”
“Write it down,” I insisted.
“What’s the name?”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Just give me the name.”
I slowly repeated the names and address to him.
“Got it,” he proclaimed.
“Thanks, Cal. Listen, I’m going to Arizona tomorrow. If you can get the information to me by tomorrow, I’d appreciate it.”
“Don’t press me.”
“As soon as you can is all I’m asking, Cal.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’m in a heap of trouble. Do the best you can.”
“I told you you’re in way over your head. Get out of this business before it kills you.”
“By the way, about the blonde I was following around in Santa Monica...”
“What about her?”
“Her body was recently identified. She’d been keeping cool at the morgue all this time.”
“Where’d you hear that from?” His surly tone turned to agitation.
“L.A. Times. Sunday, Metro section, front page.”
He was quiet for a second or two. “I hate to see a young kid die like that.”
“You got any clue why anyone would want to kill her?”
“How the fuck should I know? I didn’t know the kid.”
“Was she selling dope, Cal?”
“How the hell would I know? Just keep out of it if you know what’s good for you. Let the cops take care of it. You just stick to your teaching or you might end up like that blonde. Trust me on that, Klayman. I’m trying to help you.”
“I appreciate your concern, Cal, but could you just...” He hung up on me. “Don’t mention it,” I said.
A crusade was brewing inside of me. I wanted to crack this case wide open before anyone else could. Besides, the sooner I found out who was behind the blonde’s murder the more likely I’d get to live another day. The lug I creamed over at Sheila’s and the suit that followed him in missed an opportunity to get rid of me, but they wouldn’t fail the next time. I wondered how the blonde’s murder was tied in to all of it.
I plopped down on the bed and focused my thoughts on an unholy trinity: the two lugs, the blonde and Sheila. They couldn’t have less in common, but there was in fact quite a bit of glue between them. The blonde and Sheila both worked for the school district; Sheila sold dope for the lugs and the blonde may have been in on it, too. Those cashed checks I found at Sheila’s gave me a clue that could earn me my P.I. stripes in short order. All I had to do now was make some sense of it and formulate a plan of action.
But cornering those lugs and solving the blonde’s murder would have to wait. I was on the run. I had to get out of L.A. pronto before the suit and his gunmen could find me, then head back to Flagstaff to retrieve my own gun and car and slip through that little burg’s dragnet. One thing at a time, I told myself. Somehow on that thought, I got right to sleep.