Thirteen
We drove in silence to ‘The Green Frog’. The guys didn’t seem upset or worried about the situation or me, and I had no idea what was going down. I wished that I had had a chance to tell someone where I was going, as it would probably be pretty easy for me to disappear without a trace. We arrived and entered the front door. Joe was at his station, with a few early customers. He looked at me without acknowledging me in any way. I nodded anyway.
One of the goons relieved me of my new answering machine, but he walked along with us, and I kept him in sight.
Harold was at his usual table, sitting with two floozies. He snapped his fingers and they got up, scurrying away and leaving through a door behind him. He smiled and asked me to sit down. I did so.
“Well, Mr. Coffman, I see you’ve been a busy little soldier.” He was not unfriendly, but he was playing his cards close to the vest.
“Just had to help out one of my friends,” I replied.
“You may not know it, but you did me a big favor as well. Those guys were trying to move in on some of my territory. Legitimate stuff, of course,” he added, with a wink. I tried to look non-committal, but still had some trouble swallowing.
“Get us a few drinks,” he told one of the goons. Then Harold leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and appeared for all the world to be taking a nap. I just sat there, waiting for the drink.
It came shortly, a Chivas double on the rocks. I was impressed that they still remembered me.
Harold roused himself as his drink was given to him. The goon stood patiently by his boss as Harold took a sip. He seemed startled when Harold looked at him and ordered him to get lost, but he walked about 30 feet away and took up his new station reluctantly.
I tried not to look too dangerous as I asked, “Why did you want to see me again?” “Well, after your heroics Saturday night, I thought I’d just have another talk with you, and see if there were any new developments in the Felix Jeffries case.”
“Nothing new,” I said, “as far as I know, the two cases have nothing to do with each other.” I thought I was telling the truth, for even though Felicity was at the scene of the fire, she was basically along for the ride. There was nothing to indicate this drug group was involved with Felix. I began to rethink that idea though, as it might have been a coincidence that two drug groups were working the same area, and it might not be such a stretch at all. Maybe Felix was double dealing Harold and working with the other group. Maybe Harold was thinking the same thing. Either way, I wasn’t going to let him know I had gotten myself up to speed on this aspect of the case(s).
I sat back and waited for whatever it was he needed to tell me. I didn’t wait long. He leaned back again, fixed his gaze on me, then asked, “Are you sure there are no new developments in the case? You have been talking to the Lieutenant quite a bit, and I don’t like you being so friendly with this Irish cop either.”
I must have finally gotten a look on my face, as I felt myself redden and begin to get angry. How dare he tell me who to be with and not to be with? I got up to go, and the goon started toward me.
Harold put up a hand, stopping both of us. He motioned lazily for me to sit down again. I thought about it, then decided to sit one more time.
Harold’s mood shifted, he tried to smile, and did a passable job of it. He said, “I see that you can’t be bullied, and I admire that in you. Actually, I was feeling badly that I had hired you on a contingency basis. You ought to be paid for what you are doing for me.”
I wasn’t aware that I had actually been working for Mr. Gibbons, but I decided to hear him out. I sat there quietly, saying noth ing.
He examined me a minute or so more, then reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. He tossed them onto the table, and I watched them land in front of me. He said, “There is a thousand dollars there, maybe it will help you in your search for Felix. You still get the five grand if you tell me where he is before you tell anyone else.”
It sounded like a fair deal to me, but I didn’t want to work for him. I gently pushed the money back at him and said, “Sorry, I’ll do what I can, but I am not working for you.”
He stood up, picked up the money and started to walk to the door, motioning for me to follow. I did so, and watched as the goons fell in behind us. I prepared myself for another blow to the belly, but it never came. Instead, Mr. Gibbons placed his arm over my shoulder, and watched patiently as one of the goony boys opened the door. He then shoved the money into my hands, and said, “Take it.” The other bodyguard returned my answering machine to me and the meeting was over.
Harold pushed me out and the door closed behind me. There was no one outside with me, so I assumed I was to walk home. I didn’t know what to do with the money. I knew I’d been had, but wasn’t really sure how. Harold wanted a hold on me, but he could have had that by continually beating me up. Maybe he decided he needed a friend. I considered just leaving the money there, but it would have disappeared and I would have never been able to prove that I had done so. I decided to put the money in a safe place, and forget about it until I could return it to him, preferably, with witnesses.
Having assuaged my conscience, I walked back to Mother’s, making it to the door without further incident. I took my machine up to my room and placed it on my dresser.
There was enough time for me to clean up and get downstairs for supper, but I was pushing it a bit. As usual, James was not there, but the others were. As there still were no female guests tonight, the fare was a bit more mundane. Bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches on toasted rye, with Mother’s home made fries and tall glasses of milk. I had seconds and topped it off with a helping of chocolate pudding with cherries mixed in. I’ve always loved that dessert. Paul looked at me, and told me that he was almost done with his story, I smiled back encouragingly and went on eating my pudding. I felt that it was nice of him to take an interest, but I had no hope that he’d succeed in selling that story to his boss.
I carried my dishes in, and told Mother I’d be working late at Felicity’s house, and not to worry if I didn’t come straight home.
She smiled and said nothing. I went upstairs, found one of my unmatched socks, stuffed the thousand dollars in it as best as I could, then hid it under the other socks in my drawer. I put on clean clothes and checked myself over, as I was hoping to pass for clean and natty when I got to Felicity’s later that night.
I made sure the room was in good shape, and that there were no cats in it, then closed the door and tripped lightly down the stairs, waving to everybody as I went off to work. Roy was in his usual jovial mood, and Grits was there as well, along with his dog. She came up to me, tail wagging and I petted her as I made my greetings.
“How ya doing, Grits?” I asked.
“Fine, just fine After,” he said. “How are the burns?”
“To tell you the truth, I keep forgetting to put my medicine on them, and they don’t seem to be bothering me too much anyway.”
I then asked Roy if he could spare me for a few days, and he said that he could. Grits popped up again and asked if he could work my nights while I was gone, as he had no road trips coming up, and could use the cash. Roy looked at me, and I said that it was fine by me. That was settled and I was glad, as I had imposed on Roy quite a bit lately.
I also told Roy that I had an answering machine now, and was thinking of getting a phone installed. He agreed that this would be a great idea, and said to do it anytime. With that, the two friends left me to run the shop, Roy again reminding me to watch out for myself, that it might not be safe out there just yet.
I had a fairly busy night, selling quite a few pieces, and ringing up several hundred dollars for the cause. I took my earnings that I had obtained, including the night’s work, and felt ready for a quick trip to Baltimore. Felicity’s car didn’t look all that great, but it actually drove well, and seemed solid from the inside. I felt that we could make good time, now that I had reacquired my driver’s license and could help with the driving. The evening went quickly and I closed up shop right at 10 o’clock. I called Mother and told her I was going out of town for a few days, and might make a quick trip home for clothes. She thanked me, and told me to please be careful. I made sure that the coast was clear, but couldn’t really think about whom might be after me, as Mr. Gibbons was my primary suspect and he seemed to be with me at the moment.
All was quiet as I exited, and made my way to Felicia’s house.
Once I got there, I spent a few minutes outside, looking around the house, to see if there was anything suspicious. There was nothing, it was a nice fall night, with some cicadas chirping and an occasional dog barking. The moon was bright, and I felt like a million bucks as I went to the front door. I knocked, and Felicity answered. She smiled and let me in. I looked around, and she had rearranged a few things, and it looked more like her place somehow. It was very comfortable, and still smelled of a fresh cleaning. Felicity ushered me into the kitchen where there was a plate of cut vegetables, and some fruit, as well as cheese and crackers. The wine was chilling in a bucket of ice and I allowed myself to totally relax and prepared to enjoy a fantastic evening, the type I had dreamt about all of my post puberty life.
“It looks wonderful!” I exclaimed, meaning it. I sat down and sampled some of the treats. Felicity sat across from me, wearing a patterned sundress, sandals and a barrette. Again, minimal makeup and it suited her.
We talked about the house a bit, and she told me she was just about done with the cleaning. I told her it was looking superb, and she gleamed with delight. She asked me about Baltimore, and I told her I was basically ready to go, and we could leave whenever she liked. She thought about it and said, “Well, you might as well sleep here, we can eat breakfast and get going as soon as we wish. I think that it’s only about 8 hours to Baltimore if the traffic isn’t too bad.”
I had thought it was a longer trip, but I wasn’t going to argue about ANY of her plans.
We opened the wine, had a few glasses, then feeling pretty comfortable, we took the bottle into the front room, along with some cheese and crackers, and settled down onto the couch. The kissing began somehow, became a bit more intense, and just about the time my hands decided to do some exploring, she sat back, grinned at me and asked, “Did you remember the cards?”
I laughed and fumbled around, half-tipsy and half feeling silly.
I discovered them in a hip pocket and handed them over to her. She riffled the deck like a pro, cut them with one hand and dealt out five cards very quickly. Being a Private Investigator, I am highly trained in watching people, as you know. It was obvious from the beginning that she had dealt cards before. I was determined not to let her deal every hand. I looked at my hand; I had a pair of 4s, a ten, a jack and a queen. I asked for three cards and was gratified to see my third 4 appear. She took one card, and we prepared to lay them on the table. She had a full house, kings high, so I was beaten.
She looked at me, grinned and said, “Shirt.” I took my shirt off.
She won the next three hands, so I had lost my shoes, socks and pants before she lost her first hand.
I said, “Dress,” and she took her dress off. That’s all she was wearing besides her sandals, so I felt I’d won 3 hands. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and she was feeling no pain or embarrassment either.
I kept looking, and she did too. Then, she just got up and walked to the lamp, turning it off. She took the food into the kitchen and placed it in the refrigerator. Languidly, he took her shoes off, flung them to the wall, and proceeded to remove the last bit of my clothing.
I picked her up and we went to her bedroom, where we proceeded to spend the next hour getting close before we both fell off to sleep.
I awoke alone in bed the next morning, feeling pretty good. I heard water running in the bathtub, and wandered into the bathroom.
She was just standing there, hand on her hip, waiting for me.
“I heard you get up, and thought I’d wait to see if you wanted to join me for a bath.” She grinned up at me.
We got in and spent an enjoyable time in the tub, washing each other, laughing and planning our trip.
Once that was over, as well as a few other interesting tidbits that you need not know about, we got dressed. I shaved, using one of her razors, and we went to the car. She drove me to Mother’s, and I raced up the stairs, got a bag and tossed in a few shirts, another pair of jeans, and some socks. I was ready to go. I glanced at my watch and it read 8:30, so I thought we’d done rather well. Actually, I thought we’d done fantastically well.
We got into the car, went to the gas station, filled up the car’s trunk and got on the road. We drove for about 6 hours, got out, stretched our legs at a scenic overview, and sat on a bench, where we just sort of relaxed for a half hour. It was my turn to drive when we got going again, and she did well with navigating as we neared the city and its increased traffic. It was just around 5:30 PM when we actually got to town. The traffic was as bad as one might think, given that it was rush hour. I never know why they call it rush hour, as no one was moving at all most of the time. There was an old man pushing a grocery cart with all of his belongings on the shoulder of the road and he passed us by, disappearing over the horizon. We never did catch up to him. I wanted to eat, so we diverted to a mall, and found a café court, where she had pasta and I ate Chinese. We decided to go to the restroom/telephone area and try to find the place where Felix’s key might have come from.
After a search for a phone book proved fruitless, I was finally able to cajole the cashier out of a book of yellow pages. I looked up and dialed many numbers. I tried the bus depot, and all of the post offices, but none of them knew what Station #2 was. I was feeling stymied, when Felicity suggested we try looking under ‘Mailboxes’.
Bingo, there they were. Stations #1, #2, and #3. I got the address for Station #2 and we got back to the car and drove to a gas station where we purchased a map of the city. Felicity continued to navigate while we drove around the city, trying to decipher our way through the one-way streets and dead ends that just didn’t seem to show on the map.
We finally arrived at our destination, and got out of the car. We were in an older, but carefully preserved area near the waterfront.
The houses were all of the elegant brownstone variety, rarely more than two stories high. The streets were clean and well kept. The houses had small lawns that were neatly trimmed and devoid of any plastic deer or tiny coachmen holding lanterns. No wooden cut outs of overweight women bending over to pluck flowers or any sounds of Country or Rap coming from the windows, so we felt pretty safe about our surroundings. I wasn’t sure what scared me most, the plastic figurines on people’s lawns or the fact that some people actually thought Country passed for real music. I guess the latter scared me most, as maybe one might think plastic deer were real from a very far distance, but how anyone ever thought the ‘Dixie Chicks’ or Garth could pass for anything musical was beyond me.
You go, Dr. Dre! Anyway, we found our target nestled between two staid old houses, it was a reclaimed version of its neighbors. It had a nice gray door, with a simple gold colored sign affixed to it reading ‘Mailbox #2’. We entered together, hoping they weren’t closed. An older man was behind the counter, and when we expressed our relief that he was still open, he merely said that they were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I held out the key we had recovered from the bottom of Felix’s dresser drawer and asked if we could go to its box. He asked me to sign in, and I deferred to Felicity, saying that she was his sister. He balked at this, saying that these were very much like safety deposit boxes and that we had to be an authorized user. We told him that the box’s owner might be permanently missing and that we thought a clue as to his whereabouts might be in it.
He didn’t budge. I pulled out the picture of Felix that Felicity had given me from the family photo album and asked if he looked familiar.
The old man started in recognition, paled a bit, but managed to stammer that he’d never seen the man in the photograph before.
I could see that we were getting nowhere, and Felicity seemed to agree, as she looked at me and arched an eyebrow. I told the man thanks, and that we would try to get some sort of release to look at the box. He agreed that we should do exactly that, and he ushered us out the door, watching us as we went to Felicity’s car and obviously not trusting us to drive away.
We drove for a few blocks, and I found a parking lot to drive into. I turned to Felicity and asked her what she thought we ought to do.
“I don’t know, After. I’m worn out and I didn’t expect this. Maybe we should get a room somewhere and sleep on it, then try something tomorrow morning.”
I was tired too, so we drove around and found an older, but clean motel and got ourselves a room. It wasn’t all that late by the time we checked in, but having been up most of the previous night, and having driven all day, we were just disappointed upon our arrival.
I was tired and ready for bed.
Felicity soon amended the situation when she appeared in the bathroom doorway with nothing on but a smile, and asked if I would care to join her in the bathtub.
I hopped to it, suddenly rejuvenated, and we spent an hour splashing and playing in the tub, then dried off and spent the rest of the evening in bed, watching MTV and finally dropping off to sleep around midnight.
I woke at just after 7 o’clock, and realized that Felicity was gone.
The room was empty, and her purse was nowhere to be seen. I got some clothes on and went to the door. The car was gone as well.
There was no note, and nothing to do except wait. I turned the TV on and watched the news. Felicity opened the door a few minutes later and bustled in with her arms full of packages. One bag had hot bagels and muffins, another had two coffees. The third and largest, was from Wal-Mart.
“Thank goodness Wal-Mart is open all night,” she panted as she unburdened herself. She gave me a quick hug and went to the bathroom with her Wal-Mart bag.
I settled down to a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of decent coffee. As a younger man, I didn’t drink coffee. It used to make me sweat and gave me a burning in the stomach, but I had apparently developed a tolerance for the stuff. Mother brews great coffee, by anyone’s standards, so I was spoiled. Anyway, I needed fortification, and I wasn’t going to be picky. Felicity appeared in a few minutes wearing a killer low cut dress, with hose and heels. She had done her make-up and looked somewhere between sexy, alluring, and trashy. She was wonderful and I told her so.
“Well, I thought I’d see if I could influence the guy who works the day shift,” she murmured while attaching some spangled earrings.
I thought that it was a great idea, she would have influenced me for sure. “What if it’s a female working behind the counter?” I asked.
She grinned and said she’d do basically the same thing, just change the words. I would have given anything to know what the magic words were, but wasn’t going to get the chance, as she told me that I was staying in the car, while she was going in to retrieve whatever was in the box.
We finished up the food, got our stuff together, took a last quick look around the place and left, tossing our clothes and bags into the trunk of the car. We found the old brownstones again. I gave Felicity the key to the box and she got out of the car and waltzed her way into the building as if she owned the place. I sat in the car patiently and still wondered what she was saying to the person behind the counter. I was also wondering if she was going to return empty handed or with up to 2 million dollars in tow.
One of those extra large pick up trucks pulled in behind me. It was on raised wheels and had all sorts of chrome on it. Lights on a rack on top of the cab, decals stating the driver was a ‘Bad Ass’ and that sort of thing. It pulled up right behind me and idled. The fact that no one got out of it bothered me a bit, but I figured Felicity would be right along, so I started her car and let it idle as well.
I tried to get a glimpse of how many were in the truck. With trucks, you never know. I’ve seen trucks with entire nuclear families squashed in them, from grandparents all the way down to babies and dogs. I never could figure out why eight or more people had to squish into a cab. Maybe it was so they could all hear Reba at once.
I couldn’t see a thing however, as the windshield was one of those black types that police hate, hiding any and all occupants.
Anyway, I didn’t have to wait long. Felicity came racing out of the building, pulling a shoe on as she came, sort of hopping and running at the same time. She jumped into the car and gushed breathlessly, “Get out of here!”
I didn’t wait; I peeled out, looking in the rearview mirror as I did so. I saw a man run from the truck into the building. I had to stop behind a large delivery van for just a second, and I stole another peek in the rearview mirror. The man was running out of the building, back to the truck, and it was pulling quickly out into the street as he clambered back inside it.
I hoped that no one was coming the other way, and I pulled out around the van and sped by him. No one was coming, which was good for us, but bad as well, as the large truck behind us had no qualms, and was racing down the road after us. I turned right and sped down the new street, knowing that I couldn’t out race the truck, but hoping I could outmaneuver it. It was gaining on me when I spied a narrow alley to my right. I turned hard into it and was gratified to see that it went clear through to another street. I drove quickly, and saw that the alley was quite narrow, with dumpsters and other trash receptacles scattered along its path. I managed to avoid the obstacles, but I noticed that the truck was gaining on us and slamming into the dumpsters, bins and cans, tossing them aside as if they were cardboard.
“Someone doesn’t like us,” I managed to gasp as I struggled with the steering. “Maybe it was something we said?” Felicity retorted.
“Or something Felix did,” which was all I could manage to say, as I swerved and merged into the traffic on the other side of the block. I tried to insinuate myself between two larger vehicles, but that was a mistake as they were slower than those in the lane next to us were. It wasn’t long before the large pick up was to my left, looking a bit under the weather for having scrabbled its way through the alley. I still couldn’t see the occupants, black windows being the norm on this vehicle. All of the sudden, the passenger window rolled down and the end of a shotgun poked out.
I yelled “DUCK!” just as it blasted at us. I was getting as low as I could and I turned the wheel blindly to the right and put on the brakes. The truck behind us rammed the back of our car, and it spun us in a near circle, such that I was now sideways in the lane, my side of the car facing the oncoming truck. The driver was apparently trying to slow down, but he broadsided me anyway sending us off toward the shoulder again. We slued into the soft, loose gravel, where we continued on into a somewhat controlled slide down a slope. We stopped and I poked my head up and looked around.
The front windshield was missing, and the dashboard was peppered with holes. Felicity was pale, but sitting up alongside me. “Are you OK?” I asked.
She nodded, and then pointed. The large truck had pulled onto the shoulder ahead of us and was racing at us in reverse.
“We’d better get out and run!” Felicity screamed.
I tried to open my door, but it had been damaged, either by the truck hitting us, or the shotgun, so I motioned that we needed to get out her side. It was going to be too late anyway, as the large truck was on us. Deliverance came in the form of a patrol car, which screeched to a point between our vehicles. The patrolman got out and was advancing toward us, when I saw the gunman jump out of the truck and follow the patrolman as he neared us.
I cried, “Look out!” just as the gunman raised his shotgun. The patrolman stopped, spun and pulled out his gun in one fluid motion.
He hit the dirt rolling to one side and shot the shotgun wielding creep twice, hitting him in the chest both times. The man fell to the ground and the truck sped off. The patrolman got up, yelled at me to stay put and got into his car, turning on his light and siren, then racing off in pursuit.
I had no intention of staying put, so I put the car into gear and tried to get back up the incline. The ground was too soft and the car couldn’t navigate it. There was nothing to do but drive through the grassy lawn we were near, in front of some sort of office building.
The car tried to stall out a few times, and we were almost stuck in the softer areas, but we did get to a parking lot, and drove directly over the cement wheel stop, and onto solid ground.
I stopped long enough to see if the truck or the cop had returned, but the only thing I saw was a crowd gathering around the body of the gunman. I drove to the end of the parking lot and continued out the exit on the other side. I felt that we needed some room between us and all of the commotion, so I drove carefully through an older part of town, where a car with a missing windshield would not necessarily be unheard of. We managed to drive on in this manner for some time, and I finally spied a car wash that looked somewhat enclosed and safe. I pulled into it, and Felicity and I spent some time removing the glass and debris from the car, and cleaned it up as best we could. We then took it to the vacuum machine, and cleaned the interior. There was nothing else to do except attempt to return to Hustle as quickly as we could.
I found my way to the highway, and we got oriented back onto the westbound lane. I had to squint to see against the wind, but was saved when Felicity gave me a pair of sunglasses. They were a bit small for my face, but served as an effective windshield for my eyes as I drove. Felicity got into the back of the car, where she had a bit of respite from the wind.
I tried to talk with her as we drove, but it was pretty noisy, so I gave up. We’d been on the road for three hours, when I spied a truck stop and pulled off. I was hungry, tired and confused, and I needed to get caught up.
Felicity must have felt the same way as she got out of the car with me, groaning and complaining about being stiff. She wanted to get into the trunk of the car, and get a change of clothes, the red dress and heels being too conspicuous. While she was rummaging through the trunk, I asked her, “Did you ever get into the box?”
She nodded and grimly handed me an envelope. I opened it, noticing that she had already ripped it earlier. Inside was a sheet of paper with about 20 numbers and letters on it. The first thing I thought of was some sort of bank account, but it would take further study. I wanted to ask Felicity what had happened inside the building, but decided to wait until we were sitting and eating. She grabbed some clothes and marched into the restaurant, going straight to the Ladies room. I decided to stay outside and stand guard.
She was out in no time, and handed me her fancy clothes. She asked if I would take them back to the car and place them in the trunk while she found a table. I did exactly that; hitting the Men’s room on the way back, and finding her more composed and relaxed at a table with a clear view of the parking lot. We wouldn’t be surprised again.
We ordered burgers, fries and soft drinks and sat back to wait for our order. I started to ask her about the morning several times, but she quieted me with sharp looks. She just wasn’t ready to relive it at the moment. Our food arrived and we ate in silence. As I was polishing it up, I had a disquieting thought. “What if those guys trace us by the license plates?”
She actually grinned at this and said, “I never buy plates, I took those off another car in Chicago. I can always claim they were swapped with mine, if I get caught.”
That made sense for a moment, and I remembered that Lieu tenant Howard had thought she used an alias. Then I had two other thoughts. “What if they go after innocent people?”
She shrugged, unconcerned, “There are no innocent people.”
“What if you were pulled over and they bought your story about the license plates, but then asked you what your original plates were?”
“Hmmmm, I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I’d better get some plates then, huh?” Still fairly unconcerned, but I could see that she was bothered by the fact that she hadn’t thought this one out clearly.
“OK,” I began, “it’s time to find out what happened in there.”
“Well, I went in and there was a young man behind the counter.
He was friendly and even flirted a little. I told him I needed to get into the box and he asked me to sign in. I signed Felix Jeffries, and he didn’t buy it. I said that my name is Felicity, but that everyone calls me Felix. He still didn’t buy it, and he asked me to wait. He went into a back room and I heard him dialing a phone. I snuck in behind him and heard him tell someone ‘They’re back’. I took off my shoe and conked him on the head.”
I must have grimaced, as she stopped, gave me a concerned look and then had to laugh. I laughed then as well.
She continued, “I figured that our goose was pretty well cooked, so I looked around, found the box, unlocked it and found only the envelope. I