It had rained overnight. The sound of rain hitting the roof was just tapering off as I woke up. I quick glance out the window on the way to the bathroom confirmed it.
As the sun started to peek through the clouds over the hills. I could tell it had been raining long and hard last night. Everything was still wet. The usual puddles that formed in our driveway had returned. Water was still dripping from the trees on the lawn. Glancing at my car from the living room window I could still see the remains of the downpour cling to the windows. I glanced at the temperature gauge on the back door. Down to the low seventies. The lowest it been in several weeks.
As I made coffee and found some bread for toast, I reviewed the events of yesterday. It had been a good day.
As usual by the time I had coffee made Brenda woke up. So I took a cup to her. Sitting on our bed drinking coffee.
“Morning Hun.” I carefully kissed her cheek. As to not spill either of our coffees. We sat and talked for a few minutes. Brenda never got up this early.
Morning coffee was done. I got dressed and took my leave. Locking the door behind me.
This morning I needed my trenchcoat. Putting it on, I headed for my car. A quick glance at the new bodywork in the rear panel under the back window showed that no water had gotten in overnight. Good.
The roads were slick from the rain overnight. I actually turned the heater on in my car. Just enough to take the chill of the dampness out of the air inside.
Traffic was light going downtown. Apparently the rain have driven most of the night people inside . Stopping at my usual diner. I had a light breakfast. Then it was back to the seedy side of LA.
As the sun slowly made it was across the morning sky. The clouds and fog finally burned off. The temperature had begun to warm up in the direct sunlight. It was still cool in the shade. But I knew that wouldn’t last. Soon, probably in the next hour or two at the most. It would be equally hot and stifle everywhere. I guessed to myself that by noon it’d be impossible to tell it had rained here at all overnight. Except the greenery. Which would get a sudden burst of color. By tomorrow the grass would be so green it hurt your eyes.
I quickly found my way to Russell's theater. Parking front. I sat and thought a bit. I had no desire to go back in there. Suddenly I changed my mind. Then I remembered the police stakeout. Glancing around I quickly spotted an unmarked police car sitting across the street from the Theater and junk shop.
Pulling out I glanced at the car. I didn't recognize the two guys in it. Which meant they probably didn't know me.
I needed more information on Lisa Mayer. Looking at the editorial page of the daily I found the address of the offices. It took me a bit to find the offices. They had just barely opened for the day.
Going in I stopped at the lobby desk. I asked to see an editor as I had some questions about an article they had run.
Within a few minutes, she came down.
“Mam. I’m James St.James. A PI.” I showed her my license.
“I need some information on an actress by the name of Lisa Mayer. In connection with a case, I’m working on.” I showed her the pictures from the old paper.
“Is she in any trouble?”
“No, not that I know of. But is possible she may need help.”
She leads me back to her office. Once inside she sat down behind her desk. Hitting a button on the intercom box on her desk She requested the files on Lisa Mayer be brought in. I asked about Ben Roberts too. She amended her request for him too.
“What do you remember about the incident that was reported here?” I asked pointing to the paper.
“Well, let's see.” she leaned back in her chair. Her voice trailing off.
She then told me about how last year Ben Roberts had made a splash with a couple of big movies. But the rest of the movies had been bombs and no one had liked them. The critics had all panned them and wrote him off as a hack and a has-been. The picture was from the opening night of his second big movie. He had just signed Lisa Mayer to his studio for the next movie. But the movie never happened.
Shortly after that, she had made the charges of sexual assault. No one believed her.
“I see. So what happened six months ago. After the article here?”
“I don’t exactly know. They both dropped out of sight. Suddenly Roberts disappeared. His studio closed up overnight. And no one’s been back since that I know of. I heard he let everyone go”
“And Lisa Mayers?” I prompted.
“She just disappeared. When no one believed her she just faded off to nowhere. As far as I know on one’s seen or heard from her in six months.”
“I see you have the last known address for her?”
About that time the secretary came in with two folders. She flipped through them. Then handed them to me. I opened the top one. It was Lisa Mayer. It gave her details. When and where she was born. Brenda was right she was young barely 16 when she did her first speaking role in a movie for another producer. There were several pictures of her in the folder. I picked one up and asked if I could borrow it. She nodded yes. I Thanked her. The file on Ben Roberts was much thinner. It listed both of his places his house and the studio. And not much else although there was a list of some employees who had worked on the two big movies. I asked if I could borrow the two folders. She said I could. I thanked her for her time and the folders and got out of there.
Sitting in my car I looked over the two folders. I had a pretty good idea where Ben Roberts was or would be soon. But where the hell was Lisa Mayer? What had happened to her after the run in with Roberts?
I glanced at my watch. The morning was was going. Firing up my old Ford coupe I headed for the police station. The mid-morning traffic was starting to back up in place as to make my way across town.
I was just about to go into his office when I Stopped short. Voices came from the little room.
“You're running this Ben Roberts case like it's your own..”
“That's because it is. He’s connected to the attack on Brenda St.James. The guy she shot, Willie Black, worked for Roberts. Therefore, Roberts is mine, and by extension so is any other case involving him.” Bob explained loudly.
I recognized the second voice of Detective Stone.
“I want him. Back off from him. Let me get him.”
“After I’ve gotten more in a few days then you have in six months? I don’t think so. You're welcome to come along when we bust him. But he’s ours. Then there's the matter of Lisa Mayer. You remember her? She hasn’t been seen in six months either. Yeah, she was an actress. But I suspect it was slightly more just B pictures. She was tied to him when He disappeared. It ties together..”
“OK, have it your way, I’ll see you later this afternoon.” He resigned himself. I watched from a safe distance as he stormed out of Bob’s office and went down the hall. I slid back into the telephone booth, and he walked past me without seeing me.
As soon as Stone went past me and around the corner to the elevators I went to Bob’s office.Bob was still standing by the end of his desk when I popped in. For a second he seemed surprised to see me.
“What you want…..?” he started to say.
“Oh it's you. I thought for a second it was Stone coming back.” He explained.
“I see, I heard you and Stone halfway down the hall..” I joked.
“Yeah, well, Uhm, He tried to take over the case on Ben Roberts.”
“So I heard. You said he’s ours. Well, Yours technically..”
“I told him he’s had six months to find something on him. And we’ve done more in the last few days then he’s done in all that time. He wants in on the bust when we do the warehouse.”
“By the way, hows that coming.?”
“They haven’t seen him. Been lots of people in and out, but no Roberts. He’s keeping a pretty low profile.”
“I see” sitting down in the chair across from his desk, while Bob resumed his seat behind his paper-covered desk.
“I’ve been thinking. I think we may have a missing person here too.”
“Lisa Mayer? I thought of that too. I put out an APB for her the other day. Still nothing on her either. I also called up to missing persons, that didn't have anything on her either.”
“Figures.” I went on the tell him about the visit I had with Variety magazine Publisher. Handing him the folders she gave me. He sat back and read the information. He pulled a pad of paper out from somewhere on the desk and started making notes.
I watched quietly as he pretty much copied all the information from the Lisa Mayer file. It occurred to me that was sad, that the publisher of a rag newspaper had more information on a person then the police department could dig up in six months. On the other hand, I doubt that they were really trying all that hard.
This was the jump-start we needed to break the Lisa Mayer, and Ben Roberts case open. Or at least I hoped it was.
Bob finally looked up at me. After digesting the entire folder on Lisa Mayer.
“What made you think to go to the magazine publisher?”
“I got to thinking that they probably had files on all of the new and big stars, background information, and inside sources at the studios, and the like, and would have it all in a master file they could refer to when they wrote the articles. Turns out I was right.” I leaned back and grinned. He gave me a dirty look.
Helping myself to a cup and the pot of coffee on the side table that was mostly filled with file folders. I considered what to say next.
The coffee was hot and black. Using it a stall I finally spoke;
“I don’t think we’re going to find Lisa Mayer alive. I think she’s dead. And has been for months.” I let it lie there like so much dead weight. The look that Bob gave me, told me He’d been thinking the same thing.
“Okay, so you’re right. Where do we look? LA and Hollywood are big places.”
“I know. I think we can narrow it down a lot. If she died the day Brenda saw her being attacked, in that room. I doubt that she’s very far. If he attacked her like Brenda thinks he did, It wouldn’t be much of a stretch for him to get out of control and kill her instead. Especially if she put up a fight.” I reasoned out loud.
He nodded in agreement.
“So around the junk shop and theater?”
“I’d say close by. Think about it, He has a body to get rid of. A relatively famous body. The last thing he wants to be is seen with her body, and someone recognizing it. So he’s going to hide it somewhere he can get to without being seen. And where he’s pretty sure no one will go.”
“That's pretty thin. I need something more concrete to bring to the caption to get him to order a search of the area.”
“I agree, it's thin, on its own, but put together with the rest, Robert's sudden disappearance, Lisa’s disappearance. And Brenda’s description of what she saw. It fits.” Finishing the last of my coffee. I got up.
“I think it's time paid another visit to the movie theater, and Junk shop.”
Getting up and replacing my cup. I found my hat.
Bob thanked me for the new information and said he’d talk to the Captain and see about a warrant to search the two places. And told me not to push it. The last thing he wanted to do was explain how I shot someone to the Captain. I agreed that I would be on my best behavior. Bob handed me the files as I left.
I arrived at the Theater and Junk Shop. But I didn't stop. I slowly drove past them. The turning right I went down the block. Eventually making my way all the way around the block coming back to the front of the two buildings. There were several other buildings on the block. One larger building housed several small storefronts, a diner, and a drugstore, and at least one boarded up storefront. It was near the junk shop. I had also noticed an ally going up from the back of the block to the center of the block. Finding it again I turned in. Slowly making my way up the narrow alley. The backs of several building lined the sides. With doors and trash bins all overflowing wit wet disgusting trash. The smell in the confined space was enough to make one want to throw up. In the center of the all was large parking lot. I noted most of the store in the front of the block where the theater and junk store wa had at least two doors. One was a loading dock door of some kind. The other was a public entrance through the back of the building. Stopping the car in the middle of the parking lot. I got out. Instinctively I reached in and loosen the .45 in its holster. I approached the theater doors and carefully. I was looking for signs of recent activity. I found it. The overnight rain had provided some clear footsteps in the wet someone going in and out of the back of the theatre. I tried following them. They were faint as the sun was finally reaching the back courtyard behind the buildings, and quickly drying up any standing rain from overnight. But I did find barely enough to to show that they were headed directly to the junk shop door. Over there in the shade. I found a print the exactly matched the one good one from the theater back door before they all evaporated in the morning sun. I knew this would never stand up in a court of law. In fact it would be my word only as what little evidence I found was fast disappearing in front of me. But it was enough to tell me the two were directly connected. By someone. I spent some more time looking over the rest of the back doors to the building. Most showed either signs of regular use. A couple weren’t even locked. Or no signs of being touched in years. With the ally back here and being secluded especially at night with only a street light or loading dock light ,it would be easy to remove a body and take it somewhere. So finding Lisa Mayer near here was less likely. Leaning against my car I put myself in Ben Robert’s place. I had just attacked a almost famous movie starlet, and she fought back, I had been seen with her, although briefly. It was possible that I could be identified if they knew what they’d seen. Suddenly, I found her dead in the back of a building where neither of us should have been. What do I do? I panic. Depending on the relationship the owner of the shop I call them. Yeah, a call them. I said to myself. So what next? I roped them into helping to get rid of the body. I can’t carry it in my car. Remembering what Brenda said. It had been cold and wet at the time. I factored that into it. So moving a body to be quick and a short distance. I doubt they planned to leave it where they put. But I’ll bet they never did move it again. I’ll bet it's still here somewhere nearby. I betted all of theses things and more with myself.
I went up the back door of the Junk stop. I didn't touch anything Turning and looking at the parking lot alley from the point of view of the door. I put myself in Robert’s shoes. Where do I hide a dead woman quickly? The nearest abandoned building was to my left. I walked over and looked around. The problem was it’d been six months ago. So any signs of being forced would probably be gone. I leaned on the door to the abandoned store. It gave easily. Pulling my napkin from my pocket I carefully pushed to door open the rest of the way. It squeaked and groaned. It wasn’t happy with being moved. It I swung in revealing a large stockroom. I carefully stepped in. Looking around it was obvious no one had been in here in a long time. In fact, given how easily the door opened. I was surprised not to find signs of people, mostly kids being here and trashing the place. But it was untouched from when it had been closed up years ago. Probably during the war.
The sun poked through the door behind me, sorta light up the room. It was an old stockroom. Several high shelves lined one wall along with a couple of long tables on another wall. Carefully walking in I found myself standing in a two-inch layer of dust. Dust and cobwebs covered everything. Over in a corner, I found on the olden wooden desk. With a filing cabinet next to it. Blowing the dust off the handle I opened the filing cabinet. I half expected to find more reels of film stacked inside. But no. Only papers and files. I glanced over some of the papers. Invoices and inventory list, all dating from before the war, and a few from the very beginning of the war. I noticed a calendar hanging on the wall over the desk. It was one of those whole year calendars. The year was 1941. I noticed that it had marks and notes all over right up until the middle of December. I’d run into a lot of that. Old calendars and datebooks suddenly stopping in December 1941.
The door into the rest of the building was dusty and dirty too. But it was different. Standing back a little and shifting so the sun would hit it better. I studied it. Looking down at the floor in front of the door. The dust seemed to be less thick. Like someone had opened the door and I looked at the other door. It too was dusty and the knob covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. But the door into the other rooms didn't seem to be as thick. The only reason it wouldn’t be the same as the others are if it’d been opened and closed several months ago. Thus disturbing the dust and making it start collecting all over again. Someone had been in here. Went straight to this door opened it and closed it again several months ago. Not six years ago.
I debated what to do. There could be a lot of reasons that someone would be in here within the last few months, even the owner could have been back here. But I doubted. I also knew this was pretty thin to bring to Bob. He’d laugh me out of the office, and a judge would laugh him out of their chambers if he asked a search warrant based on what I had here, which for practical purposes was nothing but dust. So I decided to find something they could ignore. Taking my handkerchief from my pocket. I carefully opened the door. Trying not to disturb any prints that might be on it. The rest of the building was just as dirty and dusty the smell of mold and wet hung in the room. The heat in the build is insufferable. Being closed up made it into a giant pressure cooker, and the stale air just held all the dust and bugs in a state of a kind of suspended animation.
Then I smelled it. It took me a minute to figure out what I was smelling. But it came back to me. I handed smelled it since the war. The smell of rotting bodies. Once I realized what I was smelling. I looked for the telltale sign of bugs and flies. It didn't take me long to find her. I was pretty sure it was Lisa Mayer. Or what was left of her. Having been dead for six months and shoved into a closet and wrapped in plastic she had pathetically mummified because of the dryness and heat of the building. I was sure in last several months the temperatures in here had reached well over 100 degrees for long stretches of time. What the bugs hadn’t eaten the rats and mice had feasted it. It wasn’t pretty. I didn't touch a thing. I was already drenched in sweat and thirsty. Now I had an urge to throw up. I wasn’t prepared to find this. Backing away from the closest, I retraced my steps and got outside. I leaned against the car for several minutes. The sun beat down on me as I traded old dusty dirty sweat,t for new sun sweat. I was a mess. My jack and shirt were soaked in sweat. Looking at my hands they were covered in dust and dirt. Glancing at myself in the side mirror. I was covered in dust and dirt. But I knew what I had to do.
Finding a diner on the next block.
“Bob, I found her.”
“Who?”
“Lisa Mayer. She’d been dead for six months.”
“I’ll be right over.” I then gave him the information.
On my way from the diner, I ordered a soft drink. What I really wanted was a beer.
Carrying two bottles of soft drinks. And drinking mine. I returned to my car in the back alley.
By the time Bob and his boys got here I'd about finished my soft drink. Handing Bob his, I lead him into the back door, and to the body. I explained about the dust not being right in the back room. He’d have the boys check it out.
Standing over what remained of the Lisa Mayer we both made observations. It was clear she’d been dumped there, and left in a hurry. They had tried to cover he body in plastic. Probably plastic they found here. Once they pulled her out of the closest and on a gurney, after taking pictures of the room and her, we could see the marks on the throat. She had been strangled.
It took an hour or so to get her out of here and secure the building. The police would be here for several days collecting what little trace evidence they could form the layers of dust.
Both Bob and I were sure it was Lisa Mayer the starlet that had accused Movie Producer, Ben Roberts of attempted sexual assault, back in March. But until we had final identification form next of kin, or the like we couldn’t officially say so.
Back in his office; He made some calls. One was to city hall to hall of records. Finding out who owned the building that the girl was found in. along with more details about the junk shop and theater building. It took a while before both of our stomachs settled back down. It wasn’t so much the sight of her, but the pungent smell of her sitting in the enclosed space for months. It had turned our stomachs into a bowl of jelly we both barely kept down our breakfast. I noticed several of the younger uniformed officers at the scene did not. I never said a word. Because I’d been there during the war. Several times I’d had to deal with dead bodies of both sides. Bodies that left to their own devices had become a stinky smelly mess of flesh. It hadn’t been pretty. At least with Lisa, except where the rats and mice had eaten soft tissue on the limbs she wasn’t bad to look at. Even dead she was still a pretty girl.
I called Brenda at home.
“Brenda, I think I found Lisa Mayer.”
“You did? where? How?”
“In an abandoned building right near the junk shop. Where I think she was killed, But we’ll probably never be able to prove it. I get a picture of the body so you can identify it tonight when I meet you at the bar.”
I went on to give her the detail of checking out the building near the back ally of the two buildings. And how I’d recognized the stench of decaying flesh, something I told her I was glad she didn't have to deal with today. What I didn't tell her or Bob was the flashback I had in the old store when I first smelled it. As soon as my brain knew what it I was suddenly I was in Germany or England again. Didn't matter which one. The sights and smells and feeling of being around piles of dead decaying humans were enough to shake me for a few minutes. I vaguely remembered leaning against a wall in there. And almost fainting both from the smell here and now, and the memories that it brought back. For several minutes In my head, I was back in the war again. I knew this would start the nightmares again. It always did when something triggers a memory.
Bob noticed me staring off into space.
“You ok?”
“UN, Yeah, It's just finding that girl, stirred up some old memories is all.” I let it go at that. I didn't tell him about how stench and flashback it triggered.
“Look, Jim, You take it easy today. Go home get some sleep. You look tired.” I glanced at my reflection in the window near me. Shit, I did look like shit.
I got up to leave, just as I got to his door.
“Jim, You sure you're OK? If you need to talk, ..” his sentence trailed off as I waved him off. And walked out the door.
My mind kept going back to the war. Try as I might, I couldn't stop the memories.
I knew this was going to be a bad night.
I drove home in a fog. A mechanical autopilot kind of routine. I knew the way across LA from the police station to the house. Like the back of my hand. I could have been followed by a tank, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Pulling into the driveway, I noticed a big Black Mercury sitting on the street in front of the house. Part of me registered that it was Walt. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days.
Somehow, I remembered to knock on the front door. Brenda came and unlocked the door and let me. Walt was standing in the doorway across the room.
I saw them glance at each other as Brenda shut the door behind me.
Brenda hugged me and kissed me on the check.
“You OK Hun?”
I must have made some some kind of response but it wasn’t my usual response. They looked at each other again. This time I could see the worry on their face.
The Rest of the day was a daydream of some kind. I think I faded off to sleep and woke up several time. I don’t remember a lot. Just a lot of coffee, and a bath.
The sleep had not been good. My body may have been sleeping but my mind wasn’t. It was back in the war. Images of people and scenes of torture and death replayed themselves over and over in my mind head. Sometimes the same gruesome scene looped repeatedly. And it would jump to another scene. The sights and sounds, and smells were real in my mind. I was there again.
As the sun started to peek through the clouds over the hills. I could tell it had been raining long and hard last night. Everything was still wet. The usual puddles that formed in our driveway had returned. Water was still dripping from the trees on the lawn. Glancing at my car from the living room window I could still see the remains of the downpour cling to the windows. I glanced at the temperature gauge on the back door. Down to the low seventies. The lowest it been in several weeks.
As I made coffee and found some bread for toast, I reviewed the events of yesterday. It had been a good day.
As usual by the time I had coffee made Brenda woke up. So I took a cup to her. Sitting on our bed drinking coffee.
“Morning Hun.” I carefully kissed her cheek. As to not spill either of our coffees. We sat and talked for a few minutes. Brenda never got up this early.
Morning coffee was done. I got dressed and took my leave. Locking the door behind me.
This morning I needed my trenchcoat. Putting it on, I headed for my car. A quick glance at the new bodywork in the rear panel under the back window showed that no water had gotten in overnight. Good.
The roads were slick from the rain overnight. I actually turned the heater on in my car. Just enough to take the chill of the dampness out of the air inside.
Traffic was light going downtown. Apparently the rain have driven most of the night people inside . Stopping at my usual diner. I had a light breakfast. Then it was back to the seedy side of LA.
As the sun slowly made it was across the morning sky. The clouds and fog finally burned off. The temperature had begun to warm up in the direct sunlight. It was still cool in the shade. But I knew that wouldn’t last. Soon, probably in the next hour or two at the most. It would be equally hot and stifle everywhere. I guessed to myself that by noon it’d be impossible to tell it had rained here at all overnight. Except the greenery. Which would get a sudden burst of color. By tomorrow the grass would be so green it hurt your eyes.
I quickly found my way to Russell's theater. Parking front. I sat and thought a bit. I had no desire to go back in there. Suddenly I changed my mind. Then I remembered the police stakeout. Glancing around I quickly spotted an unmarked police car sitting across the street from the Theater and junk shop.
Pulling out I glanced at the car. I didn't recognize the two guys in it. Which meant they probably didn't know me.
I needed more information on Lisa Mayer. Looking at the editorial page of the daily I found the address of the offices. It took me a bit to find the offices. They had just barely opened for the day.
Going in I stopped at the lobby desk. I asked to see an editor as I had some questions about an article they had run.
Within a few minutes, she came down.
“Mam. I’m James St.James. A PI.” I showed her my license.
“I need some information on an actress by the name of Lisa Mayer. In connection with a case, I’m working on.” I showed her the pictures from the old paper.
“Is she in any trouble?”
“No, not that I know of. But is possible she may need help.”
She leads me back to her office. Once inside she sat down behind her desk. Hitting a button on the intercom box on her desk She requested the files on Lisa Mayer be brought in. I asked about Ben Roberts too. She amended her request for him too.
“What do you remember about the incident that was reported here?” I asked pointing to the paper.
“Well, let's see.” she leaned back in her chair. Her voice trailing off.
She then told me about how last year Ben Roberts had made a splash with a couple of big movies. But the rest of the movies had been bombs and no one had liked them. The critics had all panned them and wrote him off as a hack and a has-been. The picture was from the opening night of his second big movie. He had just signed Lisa Mayer to his studio for the next movie. But the movie never happened.
Shortly after that, she had made the charges of sexual assault. No one believed her.
“I see. So what happened six months ago. After the article here?”
“I don’t exactly know. They both dropped out of sight. Suddenly Roberts disappeared. His studio closed up overnight. And no one’s been back since that I know of. I heard he let everyone go”
“And Lisa Mayers?” I prompted.
“She just disappeared. When no one believed her she just faded off to nowhere. As far as I know on one’s seen or heard from her in six months.”
“I see you have the last known address for her?”
About that time the secretary came in with two folders. She flipped through them. Then handed them to me. I opened the top one. It was Lisa Mayer. It gave her details. When and where she was born. Brenda was right she was young barely 16 when she did her first speaking role in a movie for another producer. There were several pictures of her in the folder. I picked one up and asked if I could borrow it. She nodded yes. I Thanked her. The file on Ben Roberts was much thinner. It listed both of his places his house and the studio. And not much else although there was a list of some employees who had worked on the two big movies. I asked if I could borrow the two folders. She said I could. I thanked her for her time and the folders and got out of there.
Sitting in my car I looked over the two folders. I had a pretty good idea where Ben Roberts was or would be soon. But where the hell was Lisa Mayer? What had happened to her after the run in with Roberts?
I glanced at my watch. The morning was was going. Firing up my old Ford coupe I headed for the police station. The mid-morning traffic was starting to back up in place as to make my way across town.
I was just about to go into his office when I Stopped short. Voices came from the little room.
“You're running this Ben Roberts case like it's your own..”
“That's because it is. He’s connected to the attack on Brenda St.James. The guy she shot, Willie Black, worked for Roberts. Therefore, Roberts is mine, and by extension so is any other case involving him.” Bob explained loudly.
I recognized the second voice of Detective Stone.
“I want him. Back off from him. Let me get him.”
“After I’ve gotten more in a few days then you have in six months? I don’t think so. You're welcome to come along when we bust him. But he’s ours. Then there's the matter of Lisa Mayer. You remember her? She hasn’t been seen in six months either. Yeah, she was an actress. But I suspect it was slightly more just B pictures. She was tied to him when He disappeared. It ties together..”
“OK, have it your way, I’ll see you later this afternoon.” He resigned himself. I watched from a safe distance as he stormed out of Bob’s office and went down the hall. I slid back into the telephone booth, and he walked past me without seeing me.
As soon as Stone went past me and around the corner to the elevators I went to Bob’s office.Bob was still standing by the end of his desk when I popped in. For a second he seemed surprised to see me.
“What you want…..?” he started to say.
“Oh it's you. I thought for a second it was Stone coming back.” He explained.
“I see, I heard you and Stone halfway down the hall..” I joked.
“Yeah, well, Uhm, He tried to take over the case on Ben Roberts.”
“So I heard. You said he’s ours. Well, Yours technically..”
“I told him he’s had six months to find something on him. And we’ve done more in the last few days then he’s done in all that time. He wants in on the bust when we do the warehouse.”
“By the way, hows that coming.?”
“They haven’t seen him. Been lots of people in and out, but no Roberts. He’s keeping a pretty low profile.”
“I see” sitting down in the chair across from his desk, while Bob resumed his seat behind his paper-covered desk.
“I’ve been thinking. I think we may have a missing person here too.”
“Lisa Mayer? I thought of that too. I put out an APB for her the other day. Still nothing on her either. I also called up to missing persons, that didn't have anything on her either.”
“Figures.” I went on the tell him about the visit I had with Variety magazine Publisher. Handing him the folders she gave me. He sat back and read the information. He pulled a pad of paper out from somewhere on the desk and started making notes.
I watched quietly as he pretty much copied all the information from the Lisa Mayer file. It occurred to me that was sad, that the publisher of a rag newspaper had more information on a person then the police department could dig up in six months. On the other hand, I doubt that they were really trying all that hard.
This was the jump-start we needed to break the Lisa Mayer, and Ben Roberts case open. Or at least I hoped it was.
Bob finally looked up at me. After digesting the entire folder on Lisa Mayer.
“What made you think to go to the magazine publisher?”
“I got to thinking that they probably had files on all of the new and big stars, background information, and inside sources at the studios, and the like, and would have it all in a master file they could refer to when they wrote the articles. Turns out I was right.” I leaned back and grinned. He gave me a dirty look.
Helping myself to a cup and the pot of coffee on the side table that was mostly filled with file folders. I considered what to say next.
The coffee was hot and black. Using it a stall I finally spoke;
“I don’t think we’re going to find Lisa Mayer alive. I think she’s dead. And has been for months.” I let it lie there like so much dead weight. The look that Bob gave me, told me He’d been thinking the same thing.
“Okay, so you’re right. Where do we look? LA and Hollywood are big places.”
“I know. I think we can narrow it down a lot. If she died the day Brenda saw her being attacked, in that room. I doubt that she’s very far. If he attacked her like Brenda thinks he did, It wouldn’t be much of a stretch for him to get out of control and kill her instead. Especially if she put up a fight.” I reasoned out loud.
He nodded in agreement.
“So around the junk shop and theater?”
“I’d say close by. Think about it, He has a body to get rid of. A relatively famous body. The last thing he wants to be is seen with her body, and someone recognizing it. So he’s going to hide it somewhere he can get to without being seen. And where he’s pretty sure no one will go.”
“That's pretty thin. I need something more concrete to bring to the caption to get him to order a search of the area.”
“I agree, it's thin, on its own, but put together with the rest, Robert's sudden disappearance, Lisa’s disappearance. And Brenda’s description of what she saw. It fits.” Finishing the last of my coffee. I got up.
“I think it's time paid another visit to the movie theater, and Junk shop.”
Getting up and replacing my cup. I found my hat.
Bob thanked me for the new information and said he’d talk to the Captain and see about a warrant to search the two places. And told me not to push it. The last thing he wanted to do was explain how I shot someone to the Captain. I agreed that I would be on my best behavior. Bob handed me the files as I left.
I arrived at the Theater and Junk Shop. But I didn't stop. I slowly drove past them. The turning right I went down the block. Eventually making my way all the way around the block coming back to the front of the two buildings. There were several other buildings on the block. One larger building housed several small storefronts, a diner, and a drugstore, and at least one boarded up storefront. It was near the junk shop. I had also noticed an ally going up from the back of the block to the center of the block. Finding it again I turned in. Slowly making my way up the narrow alley. The backs of several building lined the sides. With doors and trash bins all overflowing wit wet disgusting trash. The smell in the confined space was enough to make one want to throw up. In the center of the all was large parking lot. I noted most of the store in the front of the block where the theater and junk store wa had at least two doors. One was a loading dock door of some kind. The other was a public entrance through the back of the building. Stopping the car in the middle of the parking lot. I got out. Instinctively I reached in and loosen the .45 in its holster. I approached the theater doors and carefully. I was looking for signs of recent activity. I found it. The overnight rain had provided some clear footsteps in the wet someone going in and out of the back of the theatre. I tried following them. They were faint as the sun was finally reaching the back courtyard behind the buildings, and quickly drying up any standing rain from overnight. But I did find barely enough to to show that they were headed directly to the junk shop door. Over there in the shade. I found a print the exactly matched the one good one from the theater back door before they all evaporated in the morning sun. I knew this would never stand up in a court of law. In fact it would be my word only as what little evidence I found was fast disappearing in front of me. But it was enough to tell me the two were directly connected. By someone. I spent some more time looking over the rest of the back doors to the building. Most showed either signs of regular use. A couple weren’t even locked. Or no signs of being touched in years. With the ally back here and being secluded especially at night with only a street light or loading dock light ,it would be easy to remove a body and take it somewhere. So finding Lisa Mayer near here was less likely. Leaning against my car I put myself in Ben Robert’s place. I had just attacked a almost famous movie starlet, and she fought back, I had been seen with her, although briefly. It was possible that I could be identified if they knew what they’d seen. Suddenly, I found her dead in the back of a building where neither of us should have been. What do I do? I panic. Depending on the relationship the owner of the shop I call them. Yeah, a call them. I said to myself. So what next? I roped them into helping to get rid of the body. I can’t carry it in my car. Remembering what Brenda said. It had been cold and wet at the time. I factored that into it. So moving a body to be quick and a short distance. I doubt they planned to leave it where they put. But I’ll bet they never did move it again. I’ll bet it's still here somewhere nearby. I betted all of theses things and more with myself.
I went up the back door of the Junk stop. I didn't touch anything Turning and looking at the parking lot alley from the point of view of the door. I put myself in Robert’s shoes. Where do I hide a dead woman quickly? The nearest abandoned building was to my left. I walked over and looked around. The problem was it’d been six months ago. So any signs of being forced would probably be gone. I leaned on the door to the abandoned store. It gave easily. Pulling my napkin from my pocket I carefully pushed to door open the rest of the way. It squeaked and groaned. It wasn’t happy with being moved. It I swung in revealing a large stockroom. I carefully stepped in. Looking around it was obvious no one had been in here in a long time. In fact, given how easily the door opened. I was surprised not to find signs of people, mostly kids being here and trashing the place. But it was untouched from when it had been closed up years ago. Probably during the war.
The sun poked through the door behind me, sorta light up the room. It was an old stockroom. Several high shelves lined one wall along with a couple of long tables on another wall. Carefully walking in I found myself standing in a two-inch layer of dust. Dust and cobwebs covered everything. Over in a corner, I found on the olden wooden desk. With a filing cabinet next to it. Blowing the dust off the handle I opened the filing cabinet. I half expected to find more reels of film stacked inside. But no. Only papers and files. I glanced over some of the papers. Invoices and inventory list, all dating from before the war, and a few from the very beginning of the war. I noticed a calendar hanging on the wall over the desk. It was one of those whole year calendars. The year was 1941. I noticed that it had marks and notes all over right up until the middle of December. I’d run into a lot of that. Old calendars and datebooks suddenly stopping in December 1941.
The door into the rest of the building was dusty and dirty too. But it was different. Standing back a little and shifting so the sun would hit it better. I studied it. Looking down at the floor in front of the door. The dust seemed to be less thick. Like someone had opened the door and I looked at the other door. It too was dusty and the knob covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. But the door into the other rooms didn't seem to be as thick. The only reason it wouldn’t be the same as the others are if it’d been opened and closed several months ago. Thus disturbing the dust and making it start collecting all over again. Someone had been in here. Went straight to this door opened it and closed it again several months ago. Not six years ago.
I debated what to do. There could be a lot of reasons that someone would be in here within the last few months, even the owner could have been back here. But I doubted. I also knew this was pretty thin to bring to Bob. He’d laugh me out of the office, and a judge would laugh him out of their chambers if he asked a search warrant based on what I had here, which for practical purposes was nothing but dust. So I decided to find something they could ignore. Taking my handkerchief from my pocket. I carefully opened the door. Trying not to disturb any prints that might be on it. The rest of the building was just as dirty and dusty the smell of mold and wet hung in the room. The heat in the build is insufferable. Being closed up made it into a giant pressure cooker, and the stale air just held all the dust and bugs in a state of a kind of suspended animation.
Then I smelled it. It took me a minute to figure out what I was smelling. But it came back to me. I handed smelled it since the war. The smell of rotting bodies. Once I realized what I was smelling. I looked for the telltale sign of bugs and flies. It didn't take me long to find her. I was pretty sure it was Lisa Mayer. Or what was left of her. Having been dead for six months and shoved into a closet and wrapped in plastic she had pathetically mummified because of the dryness and heat of the building. I was sure in last several months the temperatures in here had reached well over 100 degrees for long stretches of time. What the bugs hadn’t eaten the rats and mice had feasted it. It wasn’t pretty. I didn't touch a thing. I was already drenched in sweat and thirsty. Now I had an urge to throw up. I wasn’t prepared to find this. Backing away from the closest, I retraced my steps and got outside. I leaned against the car for several minutes. The sun beat down on me as I traded old dusty dirty sweat,t for new sun sweat. I was a mess. My jack and shirt were soaked in sweat. Looking at my hands they were covered in dust and dirt. Glancing at myself in the side mirror. I was covered in dust and dirt. But I knew what I had to do.
Finding a diner on the next block.
“Bob, I found her.”
“Who?”
“Lisa Mayer. She’d been dead for six months.”
“I’ll be right over.” I then gave him the information.
On my way from the diner, I ordered a soft drink. What I really wanted was a beer.
Carrying two bottles of soft drinks. And drinking mine. I returned to my car in the back alley.
By the time Bob and his boys got here I'd about finished my soft drink. Handing Bob his, I lead him into the back door, and to the body. I explained about the dust not being right in the back room. He’d have the boys check it out.
Standing over what remained of the Lisa Mayer we both made observations. It was clear she’d been dumped there, and left in a hurry. They had tried to cover he body in plastic. Probably plastic they found here. Once they pulled her out of the closest and on a gurney, after taking pictures of the room and her, we could see the marks on the throat. She had been strangled.
It took an hour or so to get her out of here and secure the building. The police would be here for several days collecting what little trace evidence they could form the layers of dust.
Both Bob and I were sure it was Lisa Mayer the starlet that had accused Movie Producer, Ben Roberts of attempted sexual assault, back in March. But until we had final identification form next of kin, or the like we couldn’t officially say so.
Back in his office; He made some calls. One was to city hall to hall of records. Finding out who owned the building that the girl was found in. along with more details about the junk shop and theater building. It took a while before both of our stomachs settled back down. It wasn’t so much the sight of her, but the pungent smell of her sitting in the enclosed space for months. It had turned our stomachs into a bowl of jelly we both barely kept down our breakfast. I noticed several of the younger uniformed officers at the scene did not. I never said a word. Because I’d been there during the war. Several times I’d had to deal with dead bodies of both sides. Bodies that left to their own devices had become a stinky smelly mess of flesh. It hadn’t been pretty. At least with Lisa, except where the rats and mice had eaten soft tissue on the limbs she wasn’t bad to look at. Even dead she was still a pretty girl.
I called Brenda at home.
“Brenda, I think I found Lisa Mayer.”
“You did? where? How?”
“In an abandoned building right near the junk shop. Where I think she was killed, But we’ll probably never be able to prove it. I get a picture of the body so you can identify it tonight when I meet you at the bar.”
I went on to give her the detail of checking out the building near the back ally of the two buildings. And how I’d recognized the stench of decaying flesh, something I told her I was glad she didn't have to deal with today. What I didn't tell her or Bob was the flashback I had in the old store when I first smelled it. As soon as my brain knew what it I was suddenly I was in Germany or England again. Didn't matter which one. The sights and smells and feeling of being around piles of dead decaying humans were enough to shake me for a few minutes. I vaguely remembered leaning against a wall in there. And almost fainting both from the smell here and now, and the memories that it brought back. For several minutes In my head, I was back in the war again. I knew this would start the nightmares again. It always did when something triggers a memory.
Bob noticed me staring off into space.
“You ok?”
“UN, Yeah, It's just finding that girl, stirred up some old memories is all.” I let it go at that. I didn't tell him about how stench and flashback it triggered.
“Look, Jim, You take it easy today. Go home get some sleep. You look tired.” I glanced at my reflection in the window near me. Shit, I did look like shit.
I got up to leave, just as I got to his door.
“Jim, You sure you're OK? If you need to talk, ..” his sentence trailed off as I waved him off. And walked out the door.
My mind kept going back to the war. Try as I might, I couldn't stop the memories.
I knew this was going to be a bad night.
I drove home in a fog. A mechanical autopilot kind of routine. I knew the way across LA from the police station to the house. Like the back of my hand. I could have been followed by a tank, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Pulling into the driveway, I noticed a big Black Mercury sitting on the street in front of the house. Part of me registered that it was Walt. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days.
Somehow, I remembered to knock on the front door. Brenda came and unlocked the door and let me. Walt was standing in the doorway across the room.
I saw them glance at each other as Brenda shut the door behind me.
Brenda hugged me and kissed me on the check.
“You OK Hun?”
I must have made some some kind of response but it wasn’t my usual response. They looked at each other again. This time I could see the worry on their face.
The Rest of the day was a daydream of some kind. I think I faded off to sleep and woke up several time. I don’t remember a lot. Just a lot of coffee, and a bath.
The sleep had not been good. My body may have been sleeping but my mind wasn’t. It was back in the war. Images of people and scenes of torture and death replayed themselves over and over in my mind head. Sometimes the same gruesome scene looped repeatedly. And it would jump to another scene. The sights and sounds, and smells were real in my mind. I was there again.