Chapters 25 through 27

Chapter Twenty-Five

Back in my law office, I searched through the pile of messages I had discarded on my desk looking for the one from Wanda.  I would try calling the number again on the oft chance she would answer.  I listened to the ringing for long minutes before I returned the receiver to its cradle.  I looked up to see Marta standing in the doorway.  I had been absentmindedly tapping the end of my pencil on the desk and she was staring at my hand.  I laid the pencil down.

“Learn anything from the FIBBEY boys?”

“I got some information,” I replied.  “I just don’t know for sure how to use it.  Not yet anyway.  Anything come in while I was over there.”

“You’ve been gone for hours.  You there the whole time?”

She looked suspicious.  Given my past, habitually irresponsible conduct, her suspicions were not unreasonable.  

“I was there the whole time, Marta.  Really.  Reading files mostly.  There was a lot there I didn’t understand, but it was worth a few hours.  Did my fan club at the city call?”

“About a dozen times.  That little mayor even showed up here.  Funny looking little troll.  Insisted that I promise to have you call first thing.  Soon as you got back in.”

“Did you tell them where I was?”

“They seemed to know.  And it appeared to add to their agitation.”

I didn’t say anything to that.  Just chewed on the end of my pencil and thought about the group at city hall. Their interest in contacting me seemed to be more than just following protocol in terminating my contract.  

“Well?  You going to call them?”

“Sure.  Eventually.  Right now, I want you to see if you can find Maurice.  We, well, he needs to track down some things about his partner.”

She smiled despite herself. 

“Okay, you’re the Boss.  But they are going to keep calling here and I’m sure they’ll come around looking again too.”

“Probably right.”  I stood up and took my coat off the back of my chair and started putting in on as I walked toward the front door. 

“When you get ahold of Maurice, have him call me on my personal phone,” I said.

I wasn’t sure where I was going but I was going somewhere.  It was my intent to go anywhere I didn’t have to deal with the city boys.  I would be doing that soon enough, I knew, but I wasn’t ready, not yet. 

However, my attempt to effectuate an escape, a tactical retreat as it were, was to be frustrated. Just as I reached out to turn the knob, the door opened and there was my diminutive Mayor in the shadow of big Donnie Babcock, alongside the Chief of Police.

There was a triumphant smile on the mayor’s snug smug little face.

“Mr. Easley.  We’ve been hoping to catch you.  We need to talk.  It is very important that it be done right away.”

I knew there would be no getting away this time.  A change of tactics for an unchangeable situation was called for.  And I was just the guy to make an unexpected U-turn.

“Yes.  I’m so glad you’re here.  I was just coming to city hall in hopes of finding you.  Marta told me you wished to see me and that it was urgent.  Maybe we can talk in my office if that is comfortable?”

There was a general grumbling approval from the other members of the threesome, and they started entering my office one at a time.  Marta, who had been following all this with interest, smiled at me.  Unaccountably pretending to be a loyal and subservient employee, she offered coffee for anyone who wished to partake.  The Chief of police and Big Donnie were up for it.  The little Mayor, already seemingly over caffeinated, maybe just his size made him more susceptible to a strong cup, declined.  

Marta said, “Get comfortable, Gentlemen.  I’m just brewing a fresh pot now.  I will be right in.  Sugar and cream anyone?”

She said it so sweetly, I had to give her a second look.  Was this my Marta?  I shook myself.  I would need to concentrate on the conversation we were about to have.  “Sotto voice”, I told Marta. “Don’t forget that call to Maurice.  Find out where he is at and tell him I will call him, soon as I can get away from all this.”

She whispered, “After all this you may not have a job working with Maurice.”

“Maybe.  But I’m still going to find Wanda whether these boys want to keep me on the payroll or not.”

She smiled.  Again.  Twice now!  What a day! 

Out loud, she asked, “And I suppose you would like a cup of coffee too?”

“Why, yes.  That would be just capital.  Two sugars and cream, please.”

“You know me.  I aim to please.”  Now I knew she was fucking with me

Chapter Twenty-Six

I sat behind my desk, made a show of getting comfortable, smiled with feint confidence and made a desultory wave in invitation for them be seated in the client chairs in front of me.  The mayor and Big Donnie sat in those. The chief moved off to the side, looked around and chose to sit on the couch under the window.  He was ten feet away.  He seemed satisfied and happy to take a spectator’s seat to the proceedings, present but under no pressure to participate. Typical police chief.

The mayor’s little feet, I noticed, after he sat down in my high back client chair, didn’t quite reach the floor.  Just his toes touched the carpet.  He started the conversation just as I had expected he would.

“Mr. Easley, I understand you have been visiting with the F.B.I.?”

I nodded but didn’t add anything.    I wasn’t going to make it easier for him.  I never liked the little snot, even back in high school.   I remember joining in on the hazing his limited physical size accompanied by an oversized ego inevitably invited.  And I had enjoyed every minute.

“Yes, well,” he continued, “I hope you they gave you some answers, gave you some help, we are all concerned over the evident disappearance of Detective Staring.”

This time I didn’t even nod.  I just looked at him and waited.  There was a brief stalemate as everyone waited to see who would blink first.  Marta saved the day.

The door opened and she entered, still smiling, caring a tray with a carafe and some cups.  The cups were small, silver, delicate.  The platter also had two small hand painted bowls, one with cream the other with packaged sugar.  I hadn’t known anything so elegant existed in my tired mess of an office.  I drank coffee from mugs with either a Kiwanis label or San Francisco Giants emblem depending on which mug, appeared cleanest that day.  The “presentation” by Marta I found to be impressive.

Marta sat the tray down on the corner of my desk, smiled prettily again at everyone and asked, “May I pour?”  She didn’t wait for an assent but went ahead and poured.  She got everyone served.  Me last.  Then left, discretely closing the door softly behind her.

I wondered again what was going on with her.  Perhaps someone had messed with her DNA too.  

Everyone took a sip of coffee and waited. 

Finally, Big Donnie spoke up.  I had been anticipating him asserting leadership at some point.  I was satisfied my inscrutability had forced him to step forward earlier than he probably wanted to.

“Nick, can you share with us, what is going on with the case?  And we would like to hear if there is any news about Detective Staring.”

I looked over at the Chief.  He had picked up a legal magazine from a side table and was thumbing through the pages as he sipped his coffee apparently not all that interested in either the questions being pressed on me by the others nor the answers.  I didn’t quite know what to think about his attitude. Did he know the questions and answers already?  His legs were crossed, and one leg was unconsciously wagging as if his body was impatient for this all to be over even if his professional discipline kept him from expressing his desire to be up and out of here, back to his men and his streets.

I looked back at Big Donnie before I answered.  

“The two are married together.  We were progressing nicely enough on the case.  But then Detective Staring disappeared.  Our efforts are now focused on that.  She is vital to the case.  The work she has done would be impossible to replicate.  We need her.  And of course, we are concerned for her safety as well.  Which I’m sure you understand.”

I waited again.  Again, it was his move.  I had given them a little.  Though I still had avoided responding to the multiple inquiries about the F.B.I.  Now, I wanted to see if the next questions moved onto a different subject or focused again on the F.B.I. Which direction they chose would reveal a lot about their mindset.

Big Donnie waited too.  He was no fool.  Fortunately, the Mayor was.

“Okay, what is this about poor Mrs. Vuitch and her merry band of students.  Some of what we are hearing seems like high foolishness.  It appears like you’ve been going pretty far afield here.  Her reputation is impeccable.  She’s brought a lot of recognition to our little school, and we don’t appreciate some of the implications we are hearing.”

I responded quickly.

“Mayor, this is the second time you have mentioned Mrs. Vuitch to me.  Why are you so interested in her?”

I had decided to bring a few things to a head.  I noticed Big Donnie was shifting in his seat.  He was getting ready to intervene again.  He was uncomfortable with something, perhaps the direction of the conversation, and if I was a betting man, I would bet he would like to strangle the mayor right then.

The mayor turned a shade red at my reply.  He blushed a bit.  And he was about to answer, maybe escalate, when Big Donnie held up his hand.  The Chief rose.  He obviously knew the meeting was over.

Donnie said, “There is no need to go into that now.”  He turned slightly toward the mayor though he kept his eyes on me.  “We can discuss that another time.  Let’s let Nick get back to the important work of finding Ms. Staring and getting his case back on track.”

Big Donnie rose from his seat.  The little Mayor managed to safely slide down off the chair and they all headed for the door.  I swiveled in my chair and rose to escort them out.  As we passed through the lobby, Marta sat at her desk and pretended to be typing. A self-effacing smile graced her lips.  I knew she was acutely aware of every move, each person’s posture and what it revealed about the results of the meeting.  I also had the impression she knew pretty much everything that had been said. 

After they filed out and I closed the door behind them, Marta without saying anything further, looked up at me.  There was a question in her expression.  I shrugged. 

“Looks like we are still on the payroll”, I told her.  “For now.” 

She smiled.  “Maurice called back.  He wants to meet you at the bar and grill.  2:30.”  I looked at my watch.  Thirty minutes from now.

“And that slatternly little Tammy called.  She also says she needs to see you.  I told her you were called out of town, were on the way to South America and won’t be back for a month.”  

Marta smiled sweetly again and turned back to her pretend typing.

Now that last was just downright cruel.  More like the Marta we all knew and loved.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I hadn’t been back to the Barney’s Bar and Grill since that first night with Wanda.  Random memories of that night hustled back.  Pleasant enough.  

I spotted Maurice.  He was sitting in the same booth Wanda and I had occupied so recently.  A lot had happened since that night.  Wanda and I were both different people now.  I knew a lot more about the case now.  The value of that knowledge was still questionable, but I was certainly cognizant of more than I had been in the past.  

And maybe a little more concerned with the outcome of all this.   Maybe concerned about the weird direction of the case, the detour into the world of the fantastical.  Maybe concerned about how I felt with Wanda missing.  And not just her being taken but how I felt about her absence, maybe permanently gone from my life.  I was concerned with more than just what financial remuneration this case promised.  I was worried about someone else.  That wasn’t like me.

I slid into the booth.

“Detective, what is this all about?  I hope you have more information than you had the last time we talked.”

“I have something.”

I waited.  I knew better by now than to expect Maurice to just come out and say what he knew.  He had to work himself up to it.  I was impatient, but I stayed disciplined.  Not usually a lodestar of my character, but this time I waited.

“I’m sure the guys who did Dora, took Wanda too.  Or tried to take her.  Same guys.”

He was silent again.  I thought about his words.  Maybe that’s why he said so little.  He expected you to listen and consider what he said before replying.  For me, that would be a novel approach to conversation. 

“You just said, “Tried”.  You don’t think someone has her?  We don’t know what happened to her?”

My voice was rising a little. His hands went up, palms forward, as if he was restraining me.

“Hold on a minute.  We know some things and some we don’t.  Wanda is gone.  There was evidence of a struggle.  A big struggle.  We know she wouldn’t be an easy take. The blood left was from someone else, not her.  What we don’t know is her current condition or the condition of her attackers for that matter.”  

He paused for a moment before adding, “and we haven’t heard from her before now.”

I looked up quickly.

He nodded and continued.  “Well, you heard from her once, but nothing after that.  Until now.”

“Until now,” I repeated his phrase.  I had been patient long enough.  “Go on, Maurice.  For God’s sake, get it out.  What do you mean?  Has she contacted you?”

“No.  Not contacted.”  

I rolled my eyes.   I fantasized about smacking him across the mouth.  I knew better.  I knew how cops were; what they were capable of, even the skinny ones.  Punching him wouldn’t be good for my health.  But I could clearly see in my mind’s eye, his face jerking as teeth flew across the room from me smiting him with a mighty blow.

Maurice, as if reading my mind, and maybe being concerned I might just be that crazy, explained without any further prompting. “I got a message.  She sent a message through another person.  And Nick, this other person you’ve met.  It is Wanda, but not Wanda.  You know?  You met her.”

I knew whom he meant.  “you’re telling me that this imitation Wanda, the clone or whatever pretending to be her, that the real Wanda, our Wanda, used her to send a message.  That they are somehow cooperating?”

Maurice nodded his head.  “That’s what I’m telling you, Counselor.”  He stopped talking again.  

I said, “I swear to God, Maurice.  If I have to pull one more thing out of you, I will beat the ever-living shit out of you, cop or no cop.  By God, I’ll do it!”  I was obviously losing my calm lawyerly demeanor a might, uttering idle threats.

Maurice smiled at me, like he would welcome the attempt and relish the measures he would be required to take to defend himself, measures he would get to use on a defense attorney no less, even a prosecutor.  However, his fantasy seemed to dissipate quickly as he added’

“Okay, Okay, just hold on.  I want to take you to her.  Let her explain.”

“Let who explain, Maurice, you fuck?”

‘Wanda.”

“Which fucking Wanda, Maurice?” 

He smiled at me.  “Come on,” he said and slid out of the booth, headed for the door.  I watched him go and considered throwing my glass of whiskey at the back of his head.  Instead, I downed it, slammed the empty glass on the table, and followed him.