Morning sun blinded me when I woke up. Shading my eyes from the bright light, I found I’d forgotten to close the Venetian blinds last night.
I laid quietly for several minutes listening to Brenda snore. The sight of Brenda sleeping next to me, her body half showing under the covers started doing things for me. Things that would have to wait. I sat up and glanced around our room. Everything was as it should be. My revolver lay on the small table next to my side of the bed. Along with a flashlight. The small wind up travel clock said it was now just past six am in the morning. On the small table next to Brenda’s side also lay another revolver.
I finally got up and did morning stuff. The smell of coffee seeped through the house. By then Brenda had woke up and was getting dressed. We’d had decided that we would stay together until the case was over. Instead of the usual routine where she sleeps until later and gets up.
An hour later we were in the car I’d borrowed from Walt.
“Where we heading?” She asked as she got comfortable on the bench seat that was the front seat of the car.
“Hospital. I want to see Manny again. I don’t think he told me everything before. I’m missing something, something I should have seen before.”
In the lobby of the hospital, I stopped and called Bob on a pay phone.
“Bob, I’m over at the hospital, I thought I’d have another chat with Manny.”
“Later. Describe the two girls you threw out of the movie house office last week.”
“MM, Let me see, they were about 5 feet tall, one had Long red hair, the other’s was black, they were generously endowed if you know what I mean, and Oh I think one had a scar on her arm. I barely noticed it as they left, I don’t remember which one. Why?”
“I think I just found one. Dead.”
That stopped me.
Bob gave me the details and we forgot about Manny. He’d wait.
**
Bob gave me the address and I hung up. On the way back to the car, I told Brenda about the new development. It turned out the address was near where they had found his empty hiding place before.
It took us a while to get across town fighting the traffic. The sun was now well and truly up and it was already hot. Any signs of rain from the last few days are now officially gone. The streets were now bone dry and most of the standing water was evaporated and a slight shadow of its former self. Rolling down the windows we let the warm air breeze through the car as we stopped and started at the traffic lights. The scene of the body was easy to find. The end of the street was roped off and about a half-dozen police cars were parked around the front of the abandoned building. I recognized one of the cars as Bob’s unmarked police car. We got out and made our way through the police cars. One of the uniformed officers recognized me.
“Detective Cramer?” I asked. He pointed over the door of the building. We followed his lead and picked our way through the debris of the winos and junkies and others who had used the place for a camping ground at one time or another. Bob saw us.
“Jim. I need you to look at this.” As he stepped away from the group of men he was talking to. Leading Brenda and me through the door the inside was even more of a dump then the outside was. A couple of old mattresses lay on the floor and a pile of blankets and clothes were scattered around the room. A couple of old boxes had been converted into nightstands or table with empty bottles and cans scattered around the room. The room smelled of piss and shit, and now it smelled of death.
She lay on one of the mattresses. Naked as the day I saw her last week. He face was contorted into a look of surprise and death. The bruising on her throat and body indicated at a glance that she been beaten before she was strangled by hand. Just like Linda Mayers. I nodded to Bob and we quickly got out of the room. Once in the open air, I held Brenda tight as we made our way back to Bob's car.
Once in the air, we could breathe again. And the color was beginning to return to Brenda’s face. Actually, the color was probably returning to my face too.
Once we could breathe again, I leaned against Bob’s car.
“Yeah, yeah it's her. At least one of them.” I managed to confirm.
“I kicked they're assess out of the movie theater office and told them to get their shit together and go back home. I showed the picture of Linda Mayers, the one of the way I found her. I thought it would scare them. I guess it didn’t” I suddenly felt tired. About then the ambulance pulled up. We watched as they carefully back it up to the scene. Bob went over and talked to the drivers. A few minutes later they came back out carrying a stretcher. With the body covered with a sheet. As the ambulance pulled away, Bob came back over to his car. His hands were in his pocket and he looked as tired as I felt. It was only 8 am in the morning.
“I’ll come up to the station and file a statement, and we can talk,” I told him. He said there was no hurry, She wasn’t going anywhere. I nodded and as Brenda and I headed back to our car.
I slammed the door shut. Loud enough that a couple of officers turned to look in our general direction.
“We’ll catch is monster.” Was I could barely mutter.
“I know, right now let's get some breakfast,” Brenda suggested.
It occurred to me I was hungry. All we’d had this morning was coffee and couple pieces of toast. Starting up the car, I got us out of the slum that was now a murder scene.
**
Ben Roberts had now killed again. This made the second one, that we knew about. I was tired. Tired of finding dead bodies. Tired of looking over my shoulder for the next hitman to either try to kill one or both of us or kidnap Brenda. An hour later we were in Bob’s office at the police station.
The same fan blew hot air around the room, and the same paperweights held piles of papers down so they didn't blow from the fan. And the same old chairs held Brenda and I. The only thing different was the name on the file he had on his desk. “Jane Doe” This time we didn't even have a name to put on the file that went with the dead body downstairs.
I went over the incident at the movie theater office, How I’d found the four of them in the office all naked and scared the girls and made them get dressed and get out of there. I had shown them the picture of Ben Roberts, and the picture of Linda Mayers and they seemed scared and embarrassed. The got dressed and left, I never saw them again. Until this morning.
“Prints didn’t turn up anything?”
“Nope as far as we can tell, she’s not in missing persons. She could have come from literally anywhere” I took the small headshots of her that they had taken in the morgue, along with a head shot of her where they found her. Adding the pictures to the pile I already in my pocket.
“Has anyone been back to his place, or the movie studio?” I asked more to myself as I flipped through the pictures.
“There's no reason for him to go back.”
Then I remembered something.
“Didn’t you say at the time he had a corporation or something playing the bills on both places?”
“Yeah, Yeah, I did. Come to think of it. I thought it was odd at the time, but…” Bob rummaged around on his desk. Finally finding the paperwork on the raid on the studio and the house.
“Anyone check out whos paying the bills?”
Bob finally found the papers he was looking for.
“Yes, the bills are being paid by a company called Roberts.Inc. It listed as a PO Box in LA, and another office as a PO box in Van Nuys. Kinda an odd place to have an office.” He read off to us. Bob picked up the phone.
“Ruth, can you get me the better business bureau for LA?”
He waited a few minutes and the phone rang again.
“Yes, whom am I speaking to?”
“This is Detective Bob Cramer, LA Police, I was wondering if you could give me any information about a company called Roberts.INC they’re supposed to have offices in LA?”
“Oh, and Sonic Movies Limited.?”
“Yes mam, and you too.”
He hung up.
“They have no company listed by that name in LA or the surrounding counties. She’d never heard of it. Or the movie company name either.’
“That doesn't mean much, really, If he’s flying under the radar, he’d not want a lot of paperwork or knowledge about the “Company” The movie studio, however, should be listed in the Screen Actor’s Guilt, which he’s a member, or was.” I countered.
“That still doesn't help us find him.” Brenda pointed out over her coffee.
“Actually, Jim is right about the house, Why is still paying expenses on two places he’s not using?’
“Unless he is,” I suggested.
Bob made some phones calls.
A few minutes later he hung up for the last time.
“Yep, they’re all paid up first of every month, like clockwork.’ Electric, phone, water, everything. Same company paying everything Roberts.Inc. Checks come in on the first of every month.”
“What do you have on the bank the checks are coming from?
“Not a lot, it's a local bank. I think its a small regional bank.”
“That would make sense. If he’s laundering money from the porn operation to pay his expenses, he wouldn’t a bank that’d look too close.”
“Can we get a subpoena to look at his records?”
“I doubt it, I don’t think we have enough to go to a judge,” Bob replied.
I poured another cup of coffee., the image of the dead girl seemed to float in my coffee. Gulping a big swallow of the half warm coffee, I sat back down.
“We have three ways to go; We can still watch Stone’s wife,
I can go back and talk to Manny, and even the Junk shop guy, or we can watch the bank. I know it's a long shot. But I think sooner or later he’s gonna come back to the bank.”
**
Holding the cup in my hands I sat quietly for a minute to let my ideas sink in. Staring at the black coffee as I saw the pictures of the dead girls reemerge in the coffee.
“Movie studio. He’s still paying the bills on it?”
Bob found the file.”Yep, electric phone and water.”
“If he wasn’t using it, the bills wouldn’t be much, but if he’s using them again, the bills would go back up again. Same with his house.”
Bob reached for his phone.
Several phone calls later. Bob looked up from his notes.
“It appears that the bills and usage on the movie studio went down to nothing about March, and stayed that way until recently when it went back up. She said the usage wasn’t back to pre- March levels, but it does go up considerably within the last several weeks.”
“So he’s using the studio again.” I summarized. Tossing back another gulp of half-dead coffee.
“It appears so.”
“So what does that tell us?” Brenda asked as she got up and tossed the remains of her coffee down the small sink in the equally small bathroom that joined the office. I followed suit. Dumping my coffee.
“It tells us, I think, that he needs money, and is making movies again.”
“Which means he needs girls again.” I piped in.
“I’m not sure that enough to go to a judge for a warrant for. But it is enough for a stakeout, on both the studio and the house.” Again Bob was on the phone. He ordered a twenty-four hour stakeout on both the house and the studio and the bank.
I glanced at my watch. Straighten up in the chair, I put my cup next to the coffee pot behind his desk.
“We need to get going. I want to talk to the junk dealer again, and this time, I’ll get more answers.”
We All knew there wasn’t anyway We could cover all the places that needed covering by ourselves, so having Bob order the stakeouts was the only way to go. I glanced over my statement again and signed it.
It was still hot as hell when we hit the streets outside. I was tempted to take off my suit coat, but then my .45 riding in the holster under my left arm and the .38 special on my right hip would be visible. I knew Brenda had the revolver from by her side of the bed in her pocketbook.
We opened the windows on the car as we started up. Halfway down the street, I stopped at a dinner, and we went in and got cold drinks.
Once we were back in the car.
“Where to?” Brenda asked.
“Junk shop. I changed my mind about Manny, at least for now.”
A half hour later we pulled up in front of the same junk shop that Brenda had bought the picture from, all these months ago.
As we got out of the car I loosened the .45 in my hoster, and I noticed Brenda positioning her bag so her hand was almost in the bag.
I walked up the glass door. Hesitating a second I pushed it open. Hard. The door swung back hitting the wall behind it, and I felt the glass shutter as it banged against the wall. I stepped in out of the sunlight. Brenda pointed to the counter about I third the way up from the back on the right. I marched right up to it. Without saying a word I pulled the crime scene pictures of the dead woman from the pocket inside my jacket. Smacking them down on the glass counter between us, I spread the pictures of the dead woman out.
“They’re dead. Ben Roberts killed them.” I stated flatly. No emotion in my voice. Only that I was barely controlling the anger I was feeling. The color drained from the old guy's face as he looked at them. He knew who I was alright.
“You have any more of these movies made by Ben Roberts?” I asked. Without asking I turned and walked back behind the counter. “Let's see, the safe where you had them was in your office.” I pushed my way past him and barged into the small room. Sure enough, it was still there.
“Open It” I demanded. I noticed that Brenda hung back just outside the office, where she could see the door. The old guy knelt and nervously turned the tumblers. It took him two tried, But he finally managed to open the safe. I pulled him back, knocking him against the old desk that was taking up most of the room. He just sat there on the floor while I got into the large safe. At the top was a small strongbox. Taking It out, I tossed it on the desk. Down on the lower shelves, I found what I was looking for.
About a dozen reels of 8mm film all neatly labeled and ready for home viewing, but the very rich who could afford projectors to show them with. Down below that I found a stack of black and white pictures. All of the pictures featured one or more young lady in various poses and with little or no clothing on.
I tossed the pile of films and pictures on his desk.
Leaning over him, he sank back into the rickety chair that barely held his frame in the air.
“Tell me out theses. Who and when did you get them?”
I picked up the pictures. Flipping through them, I found a picture I hoped I wouldn’t find. Pulling it from the pile I laid it down next to the picture of her where we found her this morning. In the right picture, she was smiling and all of her assets were were visible for the world to see. In the left picture, her assets were still there to see. But they didn't look so inviting. Bruised and stiff and cold, and Dead.
“We found her this morning. Tell me about where and how you got the pictures, Unless the idea of joining her appeals to you.” I threatened. Usually, I don’t mean these threats, but this time I did. To back it up I reached into my coat and pulled out my .45 pistol. I released the safety on the left side and pointed it at his head. Lowering it I aimed right between his legs.
**
The temptation to put a fat .45 slug in the chair very close to his manhood was great. But I didn’t. Instead, I returned my pistol to its home under my jacket and straightened back up. Still standing over the old man old. I Turned and collected the film canisters and the pile of pictures.
“When was he here last?” I asked as if I hadn’t just made him pee his pants.
“Couple of days ago. He wanted to sell the films and pictures, He said he needed money.”
“He did. Did he?” The last bit had my attention.
“So he’s finally running out of money?”
“You tell him he won’t need money where he’s going.” I found a paper bag and put the film and pictures in it.
Just as we were getting ready to leave.
“You have any more pictures of LA?” Brenda asked.
He looked confused again.
“You know aerial pictures, taken from a plane.” She explained.
“Oh yeah, the guy just bought a bunch in this morning.” he perked right up.
We all ignored his pants as he leads Brenda out front to the display counter near the door. There were at least a dozen 10x12 inch black and white photos of LA and the surrounding area. Some were better than others.
“How much for the whole pile?”
“Take ‘em.” I think he’d given us his right arm, to get us out of there. Brenda collected the whole stack.
“You know takes these?” I asked indicating the picture in Brenda’s hand.
“He left me his card.” he found the card in a pile next to the cash register.
“Thanks,” I said as we left.
As he hit the door I turned around asked him.
“Does Ben Roberts know this guy?” Holding up the card.
“Yeah, I think he may. He was in the back room one time when he brought more pictures in, I know he didn't meet him, But he asked me about him after he left. In fact, that's why I had to get a new card this morning. Ben Took the other one.”
“This is the same guy who took the picture Brenda bought earlier this year.?”
“Yeah, I think so, Can’t be that many taking pictures from airplanes around here can there be?” Brenda and I looked at each other.
“Thanks.” this time we headed straight to the car.
***
Back in the car. Brenda looked over the aerial pictures the old man had given us. I glanced at the card he'd given me. Van Nuys. That's where the guy who’d tried to shoot us several days before lived.
I stopped at a gas station and filled the car up. Asking the pump jockey for a map of LA. We stopped at a dinner for some lunch and while we ate I looked over the map. The Van Nuys airport was small but not far from the address that card had on it.
It took awhile in the traffic to get across town. We finally made it to the sleepy little suburb of Van Nuys. I haven't actually been here before. So it took a bit of help from the map we’d gotten earlier to find the address on the card. The address was a small ranch house on a side street. It looked like every other house on the block. Neatly mowed front yard, two palm trees in the yard, and a desert garden along the front of the house. The path leading from the driveway was cement and the whole place looked new but homey. In Spite of the quiet ease of the neighborhood, I reached into my jacket and for the second time, today loosened the .45 in my hoster. Hoping I wouldn’t need it.
The porch was a small cement slab fitted neatly into the front face of the building. The door was was at the far end of the step up to the porch. Along the wall leading to the door was a large picture window. We both tried to look in as we passed it on the way to the door. We really couldn’t see much expect the living room, and the pass-through to the kitchen, in the back wall of the living room. We did note a couch and coffee table and a couple of club chairs place around the room. The sun lite up the rooms inside through the sliding patio door that was visible through the pass-through to the kitchen. I knocked on the door. This time louder. Still no answer. So We went over to the garage. The small porthole style windows in the flip up garage door showed the car wasn’t in the building.
“No ones’ home” I commented. Glancing at my watch I noticed that it mid-afternoon.
“Let's try the airport,” I suggested as we headed back to our car.
Once at the airport, we parked in the visitor's section of the small lot. And headed for the main tower. I found a mechanic carrying a tool bag full of tools headed for the hanger area. Approaching him.
“Hello, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for this guy, I’m told he works out of here.” I handed him the business card I had gotten from the junk shop guy. He glanced at it a second.
I took the card back from him.
“OH Eddie, Yeah he’s here a lot of the time. Usually trying to keep the bird of his flying. Haven’t seen him today though.” he commented.
“Can you tell me where he keeps his”Bird”?"
“OH yeah, over by hanger 23, the small one for rentals, 23A, it's on the far side of 23. You can't miss it, It's got the US Army signaling still on it.”
I turned to leave but turned back around.
“One more thing, When was the last time he was up, did he have any clients lately?”
He sat his tool bag down. And thought a minute.
“Lets see I think he was on the rooster to go up last week, yeah he took some pictures of LA and Hollywood, I think he said some shots of the studios, Funny thing is he said they wanted the parking lots of the studios, He said it strange too, but hey that's what he gets paid for..”
“He took the pictures ok?”
“Yeah, he had at least six rolls of film to process. He left that afternoon, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Thank you've been a big help.”
“Hey no problem, Eddie’s a nice guy, and a good pilot, I hope you find him OK.”
“So do we, So do we,” I replied and We turned to head to hanger 23A.
Brenda and I approached Hanger 23A with caution. I was half afraid of what we’d find. The prospect of finding Eddie dead in there wasn’t something I looked forward to. Stopping on the far side of the big hanger 23, we watched the front bay doors of the smaller hanger for a few minutes. OUt of habit, I reached for the .45, Sliding it discretely out of its hoster, I half hid it under my suit coat, as we approached the small door on the right side of the big plane door. I tried the knob on the small door. It turned easily. Opening the door I waited a second. Nothing happened. So I stepped in, Even as a small hanger it was big inside. The small office was several yards into the main building. Taking our time, Brenda and I went into the hanger. Several small single and two engine planes sat ready to take off from the big bay door which was at the moment closed. The lights hanging from the ceiling did little to offer an insight into the rest of the bay. Approaching the office I tried the door. It opened. Applearlenty, they didn’t take security seriously around here. Once we were satisfied that we were alone We lowered our guns, and begin to explore the small office space. Eddie definitely worked out of here. The calendar had notes for every day that he’d gone up recently. And the flight logs showed the fuel used, and miles and altitude and billing hours. In one of the filing cabinets, I found several folders showing invoices for fuel and parts for the plane. Most were marked as paid in full, however, several of the later ones from last week showed as yet to be paid.
Out on the workbenches in the big section of the hanger, Brenda found several cameras. I had seen the exact same ones back in the war. They were used to take aerial surveillance of enemy lands. Looking at the airplanes I found the inside controls for the camera, Both of the small planes had the same setup. So either plane could be used to take the pictures. We found everything but Eddie. I was getting more then a little worried that we’d either never find Eddie or we’d find him dead, which was what was likely if Ben Roberts got to him first. The heat in the hangar was almost unbearable. The relative coolness of 80 degrees outside with a breeze felt good once we stepped out again. The sun was blinding as our eyes adjust to the light.
But we are no closer to finding Ben Roberts or now, this Eddie character than were this morning.
On the way out of the airport, I stopped at the visitor center and called Walt. Giving him a report of the events of the day, I asked if he would open the Bar tonight, I didn't know how late we’d be.
Eddie's house was pretty much as we’d left it earlier that day. Only now there was a car in the driveway.
As we pulled up closer to the driveway I slowed down to a crawl and turned off the engine, letting it coast to a stop just beside the end of the driveway. The car was a pre-war they, much like the millions of others on the road. Sliding my pistol from its holster, I slid out of the car.
Hiding my pistol under my coat for the second time today, we approached the house. Brenda stayed behind me as I knocked on the door.
This time it opened. Eddie was tall and skinny. The permanently ruffled mop of hair on his head topped off a short cut beard. He was wearing a light open top shirt and jeans.
“Eddie Falcon?”
“Yeah, who wants to know?”
"Hello, I’m James St James, A PI here in LA, I need to ask you some questions” I answered fishing out my wallet with my free hand. He looked at my ID and shrugged.
“What can I tell you?”
“May we come inside?” I pressed.
“Yeah sure, it almost as hot in here as it is out here.” Eddie stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way, letting Brenda and Me in. While he closed the door, I secretly slid my pistol back where it lived.
“Oh and this is my wife, Brenda”
He said hello again,
“We have some questions about some pictures you’ve taken with your airplane.”
“Oh, What can I tell you? People pay me to fly around and take pictures.”
“We know. Thing is some pictures you took earlier this year, back around early March, late February, have caused some people to be upset.”
“Why, someone caught where they shouldn’t have been?”
“Actually yes. It seems that you took some pictures of the red light district back then.”
“Yeah so, I took pictures of almost the entire LA Valley at one time or another. Want a beer?” Eddie asked through the pass-through, as he opened the refrigerator.
“Eh. No. No thank You.”
“You have some water?” Brenda asked.
“Sure coming right up.” Eddie returned to the living room, where Brenda and I were sat in separate chairs. I had maneuvered my chair around so I could see both the front door and the back sliding door. He was carrying two glasses of water. Handing one to Brenda she passed by, He handed me the other, then went back for his beer. Setting down he looked between us.
Brenda opened the large folder full of pictures. Thumbing through it she pulled out several pictures. Laying them on the coffee table.
First the picture of our bar. Then the picture of the movie theater, with two cars in front of it.
“When did you take these? Particularly this one?” I asked indicating the Movie theatre picture.
He Looked at them,
***
Picking them up and carrying them over to the window he carefully looked over the pictures.
“I don’t remember these, But I can check my negatives. You said it was early this year?”
“Yes, we figure either February or March.”
“Ok, follow me.” I collected all the pictures, and We followed him to the back of the house. Through the kitchen to one of the back bedrooms.
The farthest bedroom in the back had been converted into a darkroom. The ensuite bathroom provided the water and necessary darkroom to develop film. The rest of the room has been converted into an office of sorts. Eddie went to one of the files cabinets and open it. Inside were neatly stacked and labeled canisters of film.
***
“One of the reasons we came to see you is this man.” I pulled out the picture of Ben Roberts and laid it on the desk in front of him.
Eddie’s face turned white as the color drained from his face.
“You know him?”
“Yess, Sort of.”
“What you mean sort of?”
“Er, he knows me. And he wants some negatives from me.”
“Negatives of this picture?” I held up the picture of the two cars in front of the theater.
Eddie nodded yes.
“But you don’t have them?”
“Noo, Em Yes..” he hedged.
“No and Yes?”
“It's like this, I hid that roll of negatives right after I figured out what they were.” Eddie started to explain.
Still nervous and scared he went on to explain.
“It was back in late February, early March. I had a bunch of jobs doing commercial work for several big advertising places. They wanted a wide variety of pictures of LA and the surrounding area to choose from for their layouts for their magazine ads. So I spent several days flying over the different areas of LA and the suburbs, all the way down to Van Nuys and the red light district. I had probably at least a dozen rolls of film by the time I was done. I developed prints of the pictures and showed it to them. They used maybe a half dozen pictures and told Me I could use the rest as I wanted. Since then I’ve been selling a print here and there. I even put some in some stores to sell retail. The store owners and I split whatever they get for the pictures they sell. I’ve sold a few. Not many.” Eddie began to calm down a bit.
“Sit down and tell me how you found this picture and where the negative is now.” Brenda brought in a glass of ice tea from the kitchen. Eddie drank a lot of it and sat down.
“Thanks, Mam.” Branda nodded and returned to stand guard in the living room. On her way out Brenda took her revolver from her pocketbook and carried it openly to the living room. Eddies eyes got big when he saw the gun. I don’t know if it was the gun or a woman carrying it that scared him more but he got scared again.
“Eddie, Look at me.!” I shouted to cut through the fear. Startled he returned to his chair and sat down staring at me.
“Eddie, Listen to me. We’re here to help you. We need the negative, and we don’t want anything to happen to you either. Calm down.”
I finally got him to focus again.
“When did you find the negative?”
I found it while I was indexing the pictures. I have a system I learned in the army for cataloging the rolls of film and the negatives from them when their shot. As I going through them, I spotted the picture of the theatre and checked my notes. About when I took that roll of film. It was taken the day that film star made the complaint about being attacked by the producer,”
“Ben Roberts” I supplied.
“Yeah him. He said he wasn’t there that day. But this picture proves he was.”
“It doesn't prove he killed her, But it does help support the idea that he knew her, and was there when she said he was .” I supplied again.
“Sooo What did you do with the negative, once you realized how important it was.?”
"I made several copies of the pictures. And I hid the negative.’
“I rented a bank safety deposit box and put in there.”
“Smart move. Then if someone like us, or him tries to find it, they won’t.”
“Right, I thought so. Until now.”
“That Son of Bitch has my wife, Claire.” he finally spat out.
Now I knew why he was so scared.
“Let me guess, he wants to trade her for the negative?” Eddie nodded yes.
“Okay take your time and tell me exactly what happened.” I coaxed him.
He drank some of the ice tea and seemed to calm down a bit.
“A few days ago this guy called me. Said he knew about the pictures of the theater and would I sell him the negatives? I said no. I don’t sell negatives at all.” I didn't think much of it at the time. But when I got home later, he was here. He had my wife tied up in here in the office. And he threatened to kill her if I didn't get him the negatives. I told him I couldn’t right away, there were hidden where I couldn’t get to them until the first of the week. He said I had until Monday evening to get the negatives or he’d kill her and me. And he took her with him. He was driving the same car as in the picture.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes. Both to let him calm down, and me to think.
“You didn't tell him exactly where it is?”
“No. Only that I couldn’t get to it until Monday.”
“Good. You bought yourself and now us some time.
"May I use your phone?”
I called Bob. Over the next few minutes, I filled him in on Eddie's story and problem. He said he’d be right over.
I let Brenda know to expect Bob. Meanwhile, she kept out of sight of the window and watched out front.
When Bob arrived he parked around the block and came in a back way to the house.
I made introductions and Eddie went over his story again.
“So the negatives are in the safety deposit box in the bank?”
“What else was on that roll of film?” Eddie went back to his office came back with a notebook. Here he had listed the roll number and print number of each of the frames on the roll. Next to each of them was a short description and in most of them a location of what was on the picture itself.
The picture everyone cared about was about halfway through the roll.
Eddie checked and he had small prints of the rest of the roll of film. Matching the pictures up with his notes, it was easy to trace his flight path for the series of pictures. The pictures right before it showed the back of the buildings from the air. I spotted the door I went to find Linda Mayor. I put them aside.
**
The three of us, Bob Brenda and I held a conference in the kitchen while Eddie waited in his office. We decided Eddie was probably pretty safe for the moment. However, to be sure, Bob made a call to the station. A few minutes later a couple of black and whites rolled up. Bob gave them a description and pictures of Ben Roberts. And told them basically what was going on. He wanted two men inside with Eddie, and two out front, and two out back.
“Listen, guys, This guy has killed at least twice, that I know of. He’s kidnapped Eddie's wife, I wouldn’t put it past him, to stash her somewhere and come back after him. So be careful, and don’t hesitate to use your shotguns if you need to.”
Brenda and I followed Bob’s car to the movie studio. Pulling up at the end of the block. Bob opened the trunk of his car. Inside was a pump shotgun and extra 12 gauge shells. He loaded it with a mix of shotshell, and slugs. I followed suit opening the trunk of my car. Inside I also had a shotgun and a lever action rifle. Brenda picked out the 20 gauge shotgun. No one said a word. Once we were all loaded up and ready to go. We locked our cars and made our way to the Movie studio.
The gate was unlocked and hanging half open. Either he was getting careless or he was expecting us. I think he was expecting us.
I closed my eyes and for a second I was back in Germany. The tension before a battle was returning. I felt my muscles tense up, and my hands start getting sweaty.
***
Bob gently pushed the open gate. It swung about halfway open, more than enough to let us slip in. We stood just inside the gate. Looking around we saw no signs of life. I pointed to the office with the barrel of my rifle.
He nodded and we approached the building. Stay as clear of the glass door as we could. All of us had chambered a round in our respective guns. Upon the small cement porch, Bob peeked through the glass door. Shaking his head no. There didn't seem to be anyone in there.
We carefully made our way back into the rest of the lot. Still no sign of Ben Roberts or his car, and no sign of Eddie's Wife. Finally, near one of the very back small sound stages, we found Ben’s car.
It was the same one we’d seen in his garage when we went to his place the first time, some time ago. Also, it was the same one in the picture of the theatre. I put my hand on the hood. Cold. The car had been sitting there a while. Looking in the windows of the car, we spotted some blankets and rope.
***
I went over to the pile and poked them with the barrel of my rifle. There was no one under them. But it was clear she’d been here at one point. I found hair and threads of material from her clothes in the pile. But both her and Ben Roberts was nowhere to be found.
We made our way back to our cars. Bob got on his radio. A few minutes later dispatch replied with a list of the cars Ben Roberts owned. Bob put an APB out on all of them. Save the one in the back soundstage. He also called the crime scene folks out to go over the entire building.
***
While we waited for them to arrive, We poked around some more in the soundstage where we found his car and the blankets. More evidence that he’d kept her here for a while was found. It seemed that he didn't try to cover his tracks at all. Which meant he didn't care, or fully expected us to find it, and didn't care. Either way, he was getting careless.
Bob gave them a brief rundown of what we thought and had found. Showing them the car and the spot where he’d obviously had her tied up and hidden her for some time.
Stone was with the captain when they arrived.
I kept my distance and only spoke when spoken too. Aside from not liking or trusting Stone, I didn’t want to cause Bob any problems with the Captain, I knew he’d been in hot water with him, over me before And I didn't want to add to it.
The captain came over to where Brenda and I were standing next to one of the police cars.
“James, St. James is It?” extending his hand.
“Yes, And this is my wife, Brenda.” I took it and shook it.
He turned to Brenda a shook her hand as well.
Returning back to me.
“I seem to remember some trouble with you last fall ?”
“Yes, that was me. I had about a week and half of some hoods trying to kill me. But that's all taken care of now.” I tried to let it drop. Shifting my position alongside the car, and pulling Brenda closer to me.
“Yess, Now I remember.”
“This new business, with the movie producer, you're involved with him somehow?” He seemed puzzled as to why I was here.
“Yes, It's a long story, but We think he’s behind an attempt to kidnap Brenda, and try to kill at least her, and probably me, since then. We also think he’s killed at least two women.”
“But you don’t have any proof, do You?” he prodded.
“Yes, we do. His fingerprints were found all over the scene of Lisa Mayers body. And he was known to have been with her shortly before she disappeared.” I stated’
My stomach growled rather loudly. I think the Captain heard it.
“Now if you don’t need us anymore, We’d like to get out of here, and get some lunch.” I guided Brenda pass the Captain, and towards our car. Along the way, I caught Bob’s eyes and let him know we were leaving. He nodded, as I got into our car.
Once we were in our car, and backing out of the crime scene. I relaxed a bit.
Once the doors slammed shut. It was quiet. I glanced over at Brenda and pulled her over next to me on the bench seat.
Starting the car, I carefully backed out the maze of vehicles.
Once back on the main street, I headed for the main drag.
Neither of us said anything for a while.
“Hungry?”
“Yes”
“And tired and scared.”
“You have a right to be. Hon.”
“I’m tired too. Tired of finding dead girls, and looking for a missing movie maker.” About then I noticed a dinner on the right. Pulling in I parked and we sat for a few more minutes and talked.
The food was good, and the cold soft drinks washed it down nicely. Paying for the meal, we headed back to the car.
While we were eating I kept going back to the estate. Where he had all the rooms set up for shooting pictures, and the screening room. That was his comfort zone. He had taken her to the studio, and for whatever reason moved her. Where would he go? Back home where he was in control.
Starting the car, We headed for Ben Roberts estate on the other side of town. The more I thought it through. It occurred to me that he was at the end of his rope, money was about gone, he needed to desperately find the negatives of the picture that placed him at the junk shop on the day Lisa Mayer disappeared, and Eddie had the negative, and the only way to get to Eddie was through his wife. I doubt that he even remembered Brenda anymore. I don’t think he was thinking clearly.
Along the way, I stopped at a gas station and called Bob. He told me the captain had made him pull survivance off the estate when he didn't have any solid leads. It has been a couple days since it's been watched. Yeah, he could definitely be there. He told me to be careful. Hanging up, I pondered waiting for him to arrive with back up. Deciding against it because I felt that the longer we waited, the more chances of him going completely out of control, and hurting Eddie’s wife.
Pulling up at the end of the driveway. We got out. Opening the trunk of the car. I pulled out my favorite lever action and checked it to make sure it was loaded, picking up a couple of spare magazines for the colt 1911. I pocketed them in the left-hand pocket of my suit coat. Brenda took the 20 gauge pump and loaded it with both shot and slugs. And a couple of extra moon clips for her .38 revolver. Slamming the lid down on the trunk, we were both loaded for bear.
“You know you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. .” The look on her face told me not to argue with her.
Glancing at my watch as we crossed the street to his driveway. 2 PM.
We carefully made our way the driveway, trying to keep out of sight of the main house. Reaching the front door. I paused to catch my breath and clear my head. Pushing back the images of the war. After waiting a few minutes by the door with no sound coming from inside. I decided it was time to find out if he was home.
I stepped back from the door and kicked it hard. It didn't move. So much for a relatively quiet entrance. I borrowed the shotgun from Brenda. Pointing it at the small space between the doorknob and the door jam, holding the barrel close to the door. I fired. The sound of the shotgun going off echoed down the quiet streets of fancy houses, and eventually bounced off the hills behind the houses. Before the first sound of the blast could become an echo, I kicked the door where the slug had tore through the wood. The door swung open inside. The small foyer was just as I remembered it form the first visit. The sounds of my shotgun blast echoed in the house. The floor in front the door was covered in wood and cast iron and pieces of metal were buried in the woodwork near the door. Pellets had peppered the floor and part of the wall inside the room. The slug itself had buried itself in the floor about three feet inside the room. I took all of this in one glance. Standing perfectly quiet I handed the shotgun back to Brenda. As she stepped in behind me. There was no noise whatsoever, save the sound of Brenda racked a second shell into the chamber of the shotgun. It was quiet. Too quiet.
We stood listening for several minutes. Still no sound. Carefully stepping over the mess the door had made when I shot it open I toured all the rooms downstairs, with Brenda watching my back. No one was there. Logic said he was here. He had to have heard the gun when we blew open the door. Why no response? I pointed to the stairs.
Carefully we made our way up the stairs, guns ready for action the second anything presented itself.
At the top of the stairs. Everything looked the same as it had before. All the rooms had their doors closed. Again we took our time. I learned the hard way back in the war, the just running in was a good way to get dead. I’d seen it happen all too many times. I was also aware that we had no cover or protection at all in the hall. If any of the doors opened and he shot, we were sitting ducks, with no cover only return fire, if he missed. I was beginning to wonder if he was even there.
***
I motioned her to the other wall. And we slowly made our way to the first door. It was on my side. While she covered the door from across the hall with the shotgun, I carefully stepped across to the knob, and standing as far away as I could I turned it, and let it swing open. The door swung open. Letting it hit the wall behind it. We waited. Stepping inside. I found it untouched. We repeated the operation for each of the doors down the hall. All were empty and looked like they hadn’t been used in months. Eventually, We came to the last two doors. One was one of the “Girls Rooms” and the other was his master bedroom suite.
Again we carefully opened the door. This time it wasn’t untouched.
The bed was a mess. And cloths were dumped all over the bed, and chairs were turned over. It was clear, someone had been in here for a while and it didn't end well. I motioned for Brenda to back out of the room.
That left only one more door. We stood pondering it. If he was really here, He has to know we’re here. But why no challenge, or taunts?
Approaching the door from the side. I used the barrel of my rifle to knock on the door.
“Ben, Ben Roberts.
"It's James St.James here. It's over.” I all but shouted to make myself heard on the other side.
No sound. Not even the shuffles of chairs, or breathing.
“I’m coming in !!” I announced as I put the barrel of the rifle between the doorknob and the door frame. Squeezing the trigger I sent a round through the door. Tearing away wood and metal. The sound of the rifle going off in the building as even louder than the shotgun outside. I didn’t even try to yell. I just kicked the door in as the echo died away. Stepping inside I ran the action on lever action cycling a new round to the chamber.
***
The room was empty. Glancing around the room. The bed was messed up, in fact, most of the blankets were in a pile on one side of the end. Cloths were thrown all over the floor, closet doors hung open. In the far corner of the room, I spotted what appeared to be a gun cabinet. Being careful as to not touch anything I opened the glass door. Inside were spaces for a number of rifles and shotguns, All were filled with shotguns and a couple of hunting rifles. But the one on the far left was empty. I had no way of knowing what was usually there, just that it was not here now. I also noticed several handguns in the bottom of the cabinet. I couldn’t tell what was missing. But I suspected that at least one was gone. I motioned for Brenda to get out of the room. As I turned to leave. I spotted a note neatly placed on the top of the highboy dresser, which was hanging with most of its drawers open and empty.
Carefully picking it up. It was addressed to me,
“James St.James;
If you want to find that Whore wife of Eddie's alive bring the negatives to all of his films to me and maybe I’ll let her live.
Meet me at the theatre.
Oh and Bring that wife of yours too, I never did get to meet her.”
Holding the note with my napkin, I carried it over to Brenda.
“Oh he’ll meet me alright.” is all she could say. As we made our way downstairs.
Bob and his boys arrived about the time we made the front door. I filled them in on the search of the house. Showing Bob the note, he agreed to come with me and offer cover.
I called Walt and filled him in on what was happening. He said he’d head for the theater and stake it out.
On our way over to the meeting place, we stopped and talked to Eddie, filling him in on what we’d found at Roberts’s house.
**
Pulling on the block of the Movie Theater and Junk shop, I easily spotted Walt’s big Mecuccary sedan sitting up about half way from the theater, on the opposite side of the road. Walt was leaning against the front fender nearest the theatre. His arms neatly crossed in front of him. I knew his right hand was sitting on the butt of the .45 semi-auto that rode in the shoulder holster under his light tan suit coat. His fedora was pulled down at an angle to keep the sun out of his eyes and still watch our building. I parked just a little ways behind him. Getting out, I carefully surveyed the street as I walked over and leaned against his car fender.
Adjusting my fedora to keep the sun which by this time of day was getting low enough it care across the valley hitting eyes at angles not normally seen during the rest of the day and evening.
Thankful for the slight shade of the palm tree planted near his car.
I didn't say a word for a few seconds.
“How long you been here?”
Shifting his left arm slightly, he had replied.
“About twenty minutes.”
“Any movement?”
"Nope. Been quiet. Course he could have slipped out the back”
I thought which had crossed my mind. But I doubted it.
“Bob’ll be here in a few minutes we stopped at Eddie's and filled him on what was happening.” I shifted my position a bit as I spotted Bob’s unmarked police car come up the block and pull in behind my ford.
***
Walt and I walked over to Bob’s car as he shut it down.
Once we were all out and standing on the sidewalk Brenda joined us.
Walt volunteered to watch the back, in case he tried to skip out at the last minute. Collecting his shotgun from the car he headed around the back of the theater. Once he was out of sight the three of us collected our weapons of choice, my lever action, and Brenda her shotgun. Bob took his shotgun from the trunk of his car.
The movie theater had long ago seen better days. The 1920’s Art Deco influence was still visible. The depression and the war had not been kind the building. It had been reduced from being a showplace to bring the family to for afternoon manties, to a place where people hid and didn't want to be seen near or in. Recently it had been closed up completely when Bob and Stone arrested and charged the old couple that owned it with a variety of charges related to buying and selling porn, and other sex-related crimes.
As I reached the door. Which was supposedly locked. I pushed it. It swung open easily. Stepping inside, the foyer, as I had done before, I noted the door to the office was locked with a police lock, along with the doors to the back rooms. Bob and I marched straight through the lobby and into the main theater room. Pushing the swinging doors open we stepped inside.
The only lights on were on the stage two spotlights pointed to the main stage. A stage that had once presented many vaudeville and circus acts over the years. Now it was empty except for two figures.
I’d seen pictures of Ben Roberts, both from the newspapers, and the police records that he had. But seeing him in person even from the distance was a shock.
He was a small man. Almost bald, wearing small wire-framed glasses that made him look older than he was. His suit was old and dirty. We approached the center of the auditorium. He finally spoke.
“Stop!” The word echoed in the empty room. We stopped where we were.
“Ben, I’m James St.__”
“I know who you are. You've been dogging me all over this city for weeks.”
“Well, Yeah, You tried to have my wife kidnapped. I’ve found the bodies you left behind.”
"And they’ll be at least one more.” he interpreted.
“No, No there won’t. Because this ends now. Ben. It's all over.
The running hiding, and, an the killing.”
Bob was on my left, and Brenda was my right. We all had our long guns pointed at him. I doubt he could see exactly what we were doing. We were just far enough into the middle of the seats to be barely seen by the stage. While I had been talking Both Bob and Brenda had quietly spread themselves out among the seats on either side of me.
“Tell me about Lisa Mayer. The actress.”
“What about her?”
“She was your big star in the movie last year, and then the second movie didn't do so well. What happened?
Did she refuse you?”
He hesitated,
“Where did you kill her?
At the junk shop next door?
You strangled her, and dumped in the empty building next door.”
I pushed. Stepping forward some more into the light.
He tensed up.
“Calm down and talk to me,” I said as I got closer to the stage.
And the other girls. Now Claire, You really don't want to hurt her, do you?”
He pulled her closer to him and put his gun up to her head.
“Stop IT!!!”
“You know you won’t walk out of here if you hurt her..”
In the harsh light of the stage, I could see he’d beaten her and tore her sundress half off. And the wet puddle on the floor under feet showed how scared she was. Hell, I was scared too.
I looked directly at her. Ignoring Ben.
“ Claire. Claire. Its ok, Eddies waiting for you to come home. You’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“The negatives from the film. I want them.”
I’d hoped he’d forgotten about them. He hadn’t.
“You're not getting them. I don’t have them, and I can’t get them. There are only two ways this ends, Ben, One you let her go and we arrest you. Or, Or you kill her, In which case you’ll be dead before she hits the floor.
It's up to you, But either way not getting the negatives. So forget about them.” I made a show of pulling the hammer back on my rifle. Pointing it at his head.
“At this range, I won’t miss.” I was very careful with my trigger finger. This rifle has a very light trigger, and could easily be fired without trying. I wasn’t prepared to be responsible for accidentally hitting her. But at the same time, I could easily fire on him and not miss his head.
“You said you wanted to meet Brenda in your note.” I piped up changing the subject.
“Yeah, yeah I did.”
“She wants to meet you too.”
With that, Brenda stepped out onto the stage Right.
“Hello, Ben. You don’t know me But you tried at least twice to either kidnap or kill me.” Brenda stepped out in the light with her shotgun pointed directly at him.
“All I did was buy a picture for my bar. It had no relevance to the pictures you were worried about. But you hired three guys to kidnap me when you finally found me. You know what ? I killed Willie Black that night. Shot him dead. Which is what I should do to you.” I knew if she fired at that range, even with a slug, there was was good chance some would hit her. But most would end him.
“You see Ben there's no way you're leaving here.”
Bob stepped out of the shadows on stage Left, also pointing his shotgun at them.
***
“This is Detective Bob Cramer, LA PD. He’s here to arrest you for murder and too many other charges to mention here.” I introduced Bob.
Ben looked back and forth between me, and Brenda, then Bob. I laid down my rifle on the chair in front of me. Slowly I pulled out the pile of pictures I’d been carrying around for the last week or so.
Finding the one of Lisa, The one from the warehouse where I’d found her. I held it up where he could see it.
“This was Lisa when I found her.” He probably couldn’t see it very good, from that distance and in the bad light. But it was enough.
His demeanor changed, The small ill-fitting man, lowered his pistol and stepped back away from the lady. Brenda ran and pulled her with her off the stage. All the time keeping her shotgun pointed at Ben. and Bob and Walt, who had been watching off stage behind Brenda came and removed the small pistol from his hand and took him off the stage.
Suddenly I could breathe again. Watching Walt and Bob roughly manhandled Ben off the stage I begin to relax when I saw Brenda appear in the light by the stage not twenty feet in front of me. Claire was a mess, But Brenda had found an old overcoat in a back room and put it around her shoulders. Brenda’s left arm was around her shoulders as they approached me. I took the shotgun from Benda’s right hand and carried the two long guns back the way we’d come in what seemed like hours ago. Glancing At my watch as I opened the trunk of my car. I saw it's only been about a half hour at most.
By this time a black and white patrol car had arrived. Bob shoved him in the back of the car. And they took off.
Brenda and I took her back to Eddie's Place. The drive over was quiet. We were each lost in your own thoughts as Brenda tried to comfort a very shaken and terrified woman in the back seat. I drove like a madman back across town. Once in a while, I could hear muttering from the back seat. She was crying and Benda found a handkerchief laying the back somewhere and was helping her pull herself together before we got to her place.
There were two Black and Whites sitting on the front yard and driveway when we pulled up. Pulling into the driveway behind one other car. I shut my car down.
The old Ford sedan shuttered and sputtered as if it would never start again. I kinda felt the same way. Drained. Leaning back in my seat I closed my eyes for a few minutes. No one said or did anything for what seemed like much longer than it actually was. The spell was broken by the slamming of the front door of the house.
Eddie came running out of the house. Letting the door slam shut behind him. Suddenly I felt the car shake as he reached for the back door handle. Pulling it open. He practically fell inside the back, trying to get to his wife.
Brenda slid over to the other side, and let them have most of the seat. After a minute, she managed to slide out the other door.
Meanwhile shaken from my reprieve, I managed to get myself out of the driver's seat. And Meet her halfway in front of the car. Leaning against the still hot hood we kissed. Our arms found their familiar places as we hugged.
The quiet of the afternoon was broken by the radios in the police cars.
Once of the uniforms came over to Brenda and I.
“Sir, I hate to interrupt but there's a call for you from Detective Cramer”
“Oh okay, hang on a second” as I disintenageled myself from Brenda. Reluctantly I let Brenda go and followed the officer to his car.
“Jim Here” I keyed up the mike he handed me.
“Yeah, Jim I hate to break up the reunions over there, but I need you all to come down to the station and make statements.”
“Yeah I know, we’ll be along quick as we can. Some people are very happy to back together again.”
“Oh and don’t forget to stop at the bank and get the negatives from Eddie's box.”
“We won’t see you in a bit” I handed the mike back to the officer and thanked him.
Going to the back of the car, I told them what Bob had said about statements. Glancing at my watch I noted it was almost time for the bank to close.
Getting in, started the car again. Brenda slid into the front seat beside me. I absentmindedly reached and squeezed her hand as she slid up close to me. Eddie told me what bank he had the safety deposit boxes at, and we took off. Twenty minutes later, just before they closed, we got in there. I went in with Eddie and watched while he presented his credentials and signed the form to get his key, and followed him back to the room. Once in the small room with a simple table in the middle and several small chairs, we opened the box. Inside were about a dozen canisters of film. We collected them all and put them in a leather rough sack he’d brought. Locking up the box, we turned over the key and left. Brenda was in the front seat, Eddie’s wife still in the back seat. I opted to keep the leather bag up front with us. As I tossed it in between Brenda and me, I noticed her hand was in her purse again.
A half hour later we pull up to the police station. The four of us found our way to Bob’s small office. Walt was already there, reading his statement. Signing it, he stepped into the hall to make room for us. Saying he’d open the bar later, he took off. I thanked him for his help and said we’d try to get there as quick as we could.
****
I poured a cup of coffee, handing one to Brenda, I asked Eddie and Claire if they wanted one, they said no. Bob nodded yes. So I poured him a cup, taking mine I leaned against the wall. Bob leaned back in his old wooden desk chair. Clasping his hands behind his head, he sighed.
“Well, folks he’s downstairs in the holding cells. I’ve booked him on charges ranging from illegal possession of a gun, to kidnap, attempted murder, on you, Clair, and possible charges relating to Brenda.”
“He say anything?” Eddie wondered.
“Nothing useful.”
“I kinda figured as much. He’ll talk eventually.” I commented. Sipping my still too hot coffee.
“Meanwhile Jim, you and Brenda take your time,and go over everything and put together a timeline and statement for me to present to the DA. I can charge with this afternoon's episode, but I want to be able to tie him to the murder of Lisa Mayor. And the other girl.
“Eddie , Clair, we have your statements, and information, you're free to go, if we need you we’ll be in touch.” Bob got up and shook their hands and lead them out the door. Turning back to me,he closed the door.
He went back to his too small desk and picked up his phone.
“Eddie and Clair, the ones with the Ben Roberts kidnapping, they just left, have a tail put on them, yeah right. Thanks.”
Brenda and I looked at each other.
Sipping his coffee, he eased himself back into his chair.
“Just being careful is all. I don’t want any slip-ups when it comes to Roberts, It's probably nothing, But I figured it wouldn’t hurt for a while until we had the case against Roberts sewed up tight.”
Glancing at my watch I noted that it almost time for us to go open the bar. We hadn’t been there is several nights, it had either been closed or Walt had run it. It was time we put in an appearance.
Brenda and I said our goodbyes and promised to get back to him as soon as we could with our statements, having signed statements for this afternoon's incident, we were set for now.
We headed back to the bar.
On the way, neither of us said much. Brenda slid up next to me as we drove. Out of habit, I kept an eye on the rear view mirror for anything suspicious. The traffic was getting heavy as we made our way across town. Stopping at a number of lights and waiting for streetcars to either pass or turn made us that much later.
Pulling in behind the bar in our usual parking place. I noticed my old Ford coupe was sitting next to my spot. Walt was waiting by the open back door.
“You got it put back together again,” I noted as we went in.
“It's been back together, I just haven’t seen you long enough to get it to you.”
“Yeah about that, Thanks for helping We really appreciate it.” I shook his hand and he handed me the bill.
I glanced at it, Worth every penny.
“I’ll get with you and get your money, the first of the month. That OK?”
“No hurry, I know where you live.” he joked.
Once we were inside, I found Brenda had already started getting the bar ready to open, Finding a cold beer in the fridge, I took one and tossed one to Walt.
We only had the one beer. Brenda opened the front doors and turned on the signs, and soon the usual's begin filling in.
The evening went quietly and quickly. It was good to be working the bar again. It had been quite a while since I’d been relaxed enough to enjoy the time with Brenda.
At two am, we closed up the Bar. We were there another hour going over the books and receipts from when Walt had run it for us for a few days. Once everything was set and square, We headed home.
The sight of the bungalow was welcome the full moon lite up the scene as we approached the porch.
Within a half hour, the doors were locked and the lights were off.
But sleep didn't come quietly.
***
The events of the day kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind. The dead girl in the warehouse, the look on Clair’s face when I walked in the theater. The sheer panic and terror. I saw Ben Roberts as a small little man that had shown promise and when he couldn’t do what was expected of him by Hollywood, he turns his back on them, and when to another place.
He didn't care for much of anyone. The girls, the couple in the theater, were all just a means to an end. The flashes of the war started again. For several minutes I was France, then Germany, I woke up screaming several times. Brenda held me while stopped shaking. Eventually, sleep came.
I laid quietly for several minutes listening to Brenda snore. The sight of Brenda sleeping next to me, her body half showing under the covers started doing things for me. Things that would have to wait. I sat up and glanced around our room. Everything was as it should be. My revolver lay on the small table next to my side of the bed. Along with a flashlight. The small wind up travel clock said it was now just past six am in the morning. On the small table next to Brenda’s side also lay another revolver.
I finally got up and did morning stuff. The smell of coffee seeped through the house. By then Brenda had woke up and was getting dressed. We’d had decided that we would stay together until the case was over. Instead of the usual routine where she sleeps until later and gets up.
An hour later we were in the car I’d borrowed from Walt.
“Where we heading?” She asked as she got comfortable on the bench seat that was the front seat of the car.
“Hospital. I want to see Manny again. I don’t think he told me everything before. I’m missing something, something I should have seen before.”
In the lobby of the hospital, I stopped and called Bob on a pay phone.
“Bob, I’m over at the hospital, I thought I’d have another chat with Manny.”
“Later. Describe the two girls you threw out of the movie house office last week.”
“MM, Let me see, they were about 5 feet tall, one had Long red hair, the other’s was black, they were generously endowed if you know what I mean, and Oh I think one had a scar on her arm. I barely noticed it as they left, I don’t remember which one. Why?”
“I think I just found one. Dead.”
That stopped me.
Bob gave me the details and we forgot about Manny. He’d wait.
**
Bob gave me the address and I hung up. On the way back to the car, I told Brenda about the new development. It turned out the address was near where they had found his empty hiding place before.
It took us a while to get across town fighting the traffic. The sun was now well and truly up and it was already hot. Any signs of rain from the last few days are now officially gone. The streets were now bone dry and most of the standing water was evaporated and a slight shadow of its former self. Rolling down the windows we let the warm air breeze through the car as we stopped and started at the traffic lights. The scene of the body was easy to find. The end of the street was roped off and about a half-dozen police cars were parked around the front of the abandoned building. I recognized one of the cars as Bob’s unmarked police car. We got out and made our way through the police cars. One of the uniformed officers recognized me.
“Detective Cramer?” I asked. He pointed over the door of the building. We followed his lead and picked our way through the debris of the winos and junkies and others who had used the place for a camping ground at one time or another. Bob saw us.
“Jim. I need you to look at this.” As he stepped away from the group of men he was talking to. Leading Brenda and me through the door the inside was even more of a dump then the outside was. A couple of old mattresses lay on the floor and a pile of blankets and clothes were scattered around the room. A couple of old boxes had been converted into nightstands or table with empty bottles and cans scattered around the room. The room smelled of piss and shit, and now it smelled of death.
She lay on one of the mattresses. Naked as the day I saw her last week. He face was contorted into a look of surprise and death. The bruising on her throat and body indicated at a glance that she been beaten before she was strangled by hand. Just like Linda Mayers. I nodded to Bob and we quickly got out of the room. Once in the open air, I held Brenda tight as we made our way back to Bob's car.
Once in the air, we could breathe again. And the color was beginning to return to Brenda’s face. Actually, the color was probably returning to my face too.
Once we could breathe again, I leaned against Bob’s car.
“Yeah, yeah it's her. At least one of them.” I managed to confirm.
“I kicked they're assess out of the movie theater office and told them to get their shit together and go back home. I showed the picture of Linda Mayers, the one of the way I found her. I thought it would scare them. I guess it didn’t” I suddenly felt tired. About then the ambulance pulled up. We watched as they carefully back it up to the scene. Bob went over and talked to the drivers. A few minutes later they came back out carrying a stretcher. With the body covered with a sheet. As the ambulance pulled away, Bob came back over to his car. His hands were in his pocket and he looked as tired as I felt. It was only 8 am in the morning.
“I’ll come up to the station and file a statement, and we can talk,” I told him. He said there was no hurry, She wasn’t going anywhere. I nodded and as Brenda and I headed back to our car.
I slammed the door shut. Loud enough that a couple of officers turned to look in our general direction.
“We’ll catch is monster.” Was I could barely mutter.
“I know, right now let's get some breakfast,” Brenda suggested.
It occurred to me I was hungry. All we’d had this morning was coffee and couple pieces of toast. Starting up the car, I got us out of the slum that was now a murder scene.
**
Ben Roberts had now killed again. This made the second one, that we knew about. I was tired. Tired of finding dead bodies. Tired of looking over my shoulder for the next hitman to either try to kill one or both of us or kidnap Brenda. An hour later we were in Bob’s office at the police station.
The same fan blew hot air around the room, and the same paperweights held piles of papers down so they didn't blow from the fan. And the same old chairs held Brenda and I. The only thing different was the name on the file he had on his desk. “Jane Doe” This time we didn't even have a name to put on the file that went with the dead body downstairs.
I went over the incident at the movie theater office, How I’d found the four of them in the office all naked and scared the girls and made them get dressed and get out of there. I had shown them the picture of Ben Roberts, and the picture of Linda Mayers and they seemed scared and embarrassed. The got dressed and left, I never saw them again. Until this morning.
“Prints didn’t turn up anything?”
“Nope as far as we can tell, she’s not in missing persons. She could have come from literally anywhere” I took the small headshots of her that they had taken in the morgue, along with a head shot of her where they found her. Adding the pictures to the pile I already in my pocket.
“Has anyone been back to his place, or the movie studio?” I asked more to myself as I flipped through the pictures.
“There's no reason for him to go back.”
Then I remembered something.
“Didn’t you say at the time he had a corporation or something playing the bills on both places?”
“Yeah, Yeah, I did. Come to think of it. I thought it was odd at the time, but…” Bob rummaged around on his desk. Finally finding the paperwork on the raid on the studio and the house.
“Anyone check out whos paying the bills?”
Bob finally found the papers he was looking for.
“Yes, the bills are being paid by a company called Roberts.Inc. It listed as a PO Box in LA, and another office as a PO box in Van Nuys. Kinda an odd place to have an office.” He read off to us. Bob picked up the phone.
“Ruth, can you get me the better business bureau for LA?”
He waited a few minutes and the phone rang again.
“Yes, whom am I speaking to?”
“This is Detective Bob Cramer, LA Police, I was wondering if you could give me any information about a company called Roberts.INC they’re supposed to have offices in LA?”
“Oh, and Sonic Movies Limited.?”
“Yes mam, and you too.”
He hung up.
“They have no company listed by that name in LA or the surrounding counties. She’d never heard of it. Or the movie company name either.’
“That doesn't mean much, really, If he’s flying under the radar, he’d not want a lot of paperwork or knowledge about the “Company” The movie studio, however, should be listed in the Screen Actor’s Guilt, which he’s a member, or was.” I countered.
“That still doesn't help us find him.” Brenda pointed out over her coffee.
“Actually, Jim is right about the house, Why is still paying expenses on two places he’s not using?’
“Unless he is,” I suggested.
Bob made some phones calls.
A few minutes later he hung up for the last time.
“Yep, they’re all paid up first of every month, like clockwork.’ Electric, phone, water, everything. Same company paying everything Roberts.Inc. Checks come in on the first of every month.”
“What do you have on the bank the checks are coming from?
“Not a lot, it's a local bank. I think its a small regional bank.”
“That would make sense. If he’s laundering money from the porn operation to pay his expenses, he wouldn’t a bank that’d look too close.”
“Can we get a subpoena to look at his records?”
“I doubt it, I don’t think we have enough to go to a judge,” Bob replied.
I poured another cup of coffee., the image of the dead girl seemed to float in my coffee. Gulping a big swallow of the half warm coffee, I sat back down.
“We have three ways to go; We can still watch Stone’s wife,
I can go back and talk to Manny, and even the Junk shop guy, or we can watch the bank. I know it's a long shot. But I think sooner or later he’s gonna come back to the bank.”
**
Holding the cup in my hands I sat quietly for a minute to let my ideas sink in. Staring at the black coffee as I saw the pictures of the dead girls reemerge in the coffee.
“Movie studio. He’s still paying the bills on it?”
Bob found the file.”Yep, electric phone and water.”
“If he wasn’t using it, the bills wouldn’t be much, but if he’s using them again, the bills would go back up again. Same with his house.”
Bob reached for his phone.
Several phone calls later. Bob looked up from his notes.
“It appears that the bills and usage on the movie studio went down to nothing about March, and stayed that way until recently when it went back up. She said the usage wasn’t back to pre- March levels, but it does go up considerably within the last several weeks.”
“So he’s using the studio again.” I summarized. Tossing back another gulp of half-dead coffee.
“It appears so.”
“So what does that tell us?” Brenda asked as she got up and tossed the remains of her coffee down the small sink in the equally small bathroom that joined the office. I followed suit. Dumping my coffee.
“It tells us, I think, that he needs money, and is making movies again.”
“Which means he needs girls again.” I piped in.
“I’m not sure that enough to go to a judge for a warrant for. But it is enough for a stakeout, on both the studio and the house.” Again Bob was on the phone. He ordered a twenty-four hour stakeout on both the house and the studio and the bank.
I glanced at my watch. Straighten up in the chair, I put my cup next to the coffee pot behind his desk.
“We need to get going. I want to talk to the junk dealer again, and this time, I’ll get more answers.”
We All knew there wasn’t anyway We could cover all the places that needed covering by ourselves, so having Bob order the stakeouts was the only way to go. I glanced over my statement again and signed it.
It was still hot as hell when we hit the streets outside. I was tempted to take off my suit coat, but then my .45 riding in the holster under my left arm and the .38 special on my right hip would be visible. I knew Brenda had the revolver from by her side of the bed in her pocketbook.
We opened the windows on the car as we started up. Halfway down the street, I stopped at a dinner, and we went in and got cold drinks.
Once we were back in the car.
“Where to?” Brenda asked.
“Junk shop. I changed my mind about Manny, at least for now.”
A half hour later we pulled up in front of the same junk shop that Brenda had bought the picture from, all these months ago.
As we got out of the car I loosened the .45 in my hoster, and I noticed Brenda positioning her bag so her hand was almost in the bag.
I walked up the glass door. Hesitating a second I pushed it open. Hard. The door swung back hitting the wall behind it, and I felt the glass shutter as it banged against the wall. I stepped in out of the sunlight. Brenda pointed to the counter about I third the way up from the back on the right. I marched right up to it. Without saying a word I pulled the crime scene pictures of the dead woman from the pocket inside my jacket. Smacking them down on the glass counter between us, I spread the pictures of the dead woman out.
“They’re dead. Ben Roberts killed them.” I stated flatly. No emotion in my voice. Only that I was barely controlling the anger I was feeling. The color drained from the old guy's face as he looked at them. He knew who I was alright.
“You have any more of these movies made by Ben Roberts?” I asked. Without asking I turned and walked back behind the counter. “Let's see, the safe where you had them was in your office.” I pushed my way past him and barged into the small room. Sure enough, it was still there.
“Open It” I demanded. I noticed that Brenda hung back just outside the office, where she could see the door. The old guy knelt and nervously turned the tumblers. It took him two tried, But he finally managed to open the safe. I pulled him back, knocking him against the old desk that was taking up most of the room. He just sat there on the floor while I got into the large safe. At the top was a small strongbox. Taking It out, I tossed it on the desk. Down on the lower shelves, I found what I was looking for.
About a dozen reels of 8mm film all neatly labeled and ready for home viewing, but the very rich who could afford projectors to show them with. Down below that I found a stack of black and white pictures. All of the pictures featured one or more young lady in various poses and with little or no clothing on.
I tossed the pile of films and pictures on his desk.
Leaning over him, he sank back into the rickety chair that barely held his frame in the air.
“Tell me out theses. Who and when did you get them?”
I picked up the pictures. Flipping through them, I found a picture I hoped I wouldn’t find. Pulling it from the pile I laid it down next to the picture of her where we found her this morning. In the right picture, she was smiling and all of her assets were were visible for the world to see. In the left picture, her assets were still there to see. But they didn't look so inviting. Bruised and stiff and cold, and Dead.
“We found her this morning. Tell me about where and how you got the pictures, Unless the idea of joining her appeals to you.” I threatened. Usually, I don’t mean these threats, but this time I did. To back it up I reached into my coat and pulled out my .45 pistol. I released the safety on the left side and pointed it at his head. Lowering it I aimed right between his legs.
**
The temptation to put a fat .45 slug in the chair very close to his manhood was great. But I didn’t. Instead, I returned my pistol to its home under my jacket and straightened back up. Still standing over the old man old. I Turned and collected the film canisters and the pile of pictures.
“When was he here last?” I asked as if I hadn’t just made him pee his pants.
“Couple of days ago. He wanted to sell the films and pictures, He said he needed money.”
“He did. Did he?” The last bit had my attention.
“So he’s finally running out of money?”
“You tell him he won’t need money where he’s going.” I found a paper bag and put the film and pictures in it.
Just as we were getting ready to leave.
“You have any more pictures of LA?” Brenda asked.
He looked confused again.
“You know aerial pictures, taken from a plane.” She explained.
“Oh yeah, the guy just bought a bunch in this morning.” he perked right up.
We all ignored his pants as he leads Brenda out front to the display counter near the door. There were at least a dozen 10x12 inch black and white photos of LA and the surrounding area. Some were better than others.
“How much for the whole pile?”
“Take ‘em.” I think he’d given us his right arm, to get us out of there. Brenda collected the whole stack.
“You know takes these?” I asked indicating the picture in Brenda’s hand.
“He left me his card.” he found the card in a pile next to the cash register.
“Thanks,” I said as we left.
As he hit the door I turned around asked him.
“Does Ben Roberts know this guy?” Holding up the card.
“Yeah, I think he may. He was in the back room one time when he brought more pictures in, I know he didn't meet him, But he asked me about him after he left. In fact, that's why I had to get a new card this morning. Ben Took the other one.”
“This is the same guy who took the picture Brenda bought earlier this year.?”
“Yeah, I think so, Can’t be that many taking pictures from airplanes around here can there be?” Brenda and I looked at each other.
“Thanks.” this time we headed straight to the car.
***
Back in the car. Brenda looked over the aerial pictures the old man had given us. I glanced at the card he'd given me. Van Nuys. That's where the guy who’d tried to shoot us several days before lived.
I stopped at a gas station and filled the car up. Asking the pump jockey for a map of LA. We stopped at a dinner for some lunch and while we ate I looked over the map. The Van Nuys airport was small but not far from the address that card had on it.
It took awhile in the traffic to get across town. We finally made it to the sleepy little suburb of Van Nuys. I haven't actually been here before. So it took a bit of help from the map we’d gotten earlier to find the address on the card. The address was a small ranch house on a side street. It looked like every other house on the block. Neatly mowed front yard, two palm trees in the yard, and a desert garden along the front of the house. The path leading from the driveway was cement and the whole place looked new but homey. In Spite of the quiet ease of the neighborhood, I reached into my jacket and for the second time, today loosened the .45 in my hoster. Hoping I wouldn’t need it.
The porch was a small cement slab fitted neatly into the front face of the building. The door was was at the far end of the step up to the porch. Along the wall leading to the door was a large picture window. We both tried to look in as we passed it on the way to the door. We really couldn’t see much expect the living room, and the pass-through to the kitchen, in the back wall of the living room. We did note a couch and coffee table and a couple of club chairs place around the room. The sun lite up the rooms inside through the sliding patio door that was visible through the pass-through to the kitchen. I knocked on the door. This time louder. Still no answer. So We went over to the garage. The small porthole style windows in the flip up garage door showed the car wasn’t in the building.
“No ones’ home” I commented. Glancing at my watch I noticed that it mid-afternoon.
“Let's try the airport,” I suggested as we headed back to our car.
Once at the airport, we parked in the visitor's section of the small lot. And headed for the main tower. I found a mechanic carrying a tool bag full of tools headed for the hanger area. Approaching him.
“Hello, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for this guy, I’m told he works out of here.” I handed him the business card I had gotten from the junk shop guy. He glanced at it a second.
I took the card back from him.
“OH Eddie, Yeah he’s here a lot of the time. Usually trying to keep the bird of his flying. Haven’t seen him today though.” he commented.
“Can you tell me where he keeps his”Bird”?"
“OH yeah, over by hanger 23, the small one for rentals, 23A, it's on the far side of 23. You can't miss it, It's got the US Army signaling still on it.”
I turned to leave but turned back around.
“One more thing, When was the last time he was up, did he have any clients lately?”
He sat his tool bag down. And thought a minute.
“Lets see I think he was on the rooster to go up last week, yeah he took some pictures of LA and Hollywood, I think he said some shots of the studios, Funny thing is he said they wanted the parking lots of the studios, He said it strange too, but hey that's what he gets paid for..”
“He took the pictures ok?”
“Yeah, he had at least six rolls of film to process. He left that afternoon, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Thank you've been a big help.”
“Hey no problem, Eddie’s a nice guy, and a good pilot, I hope you find him OK.”
“So do we, So do we,” I replied and We turned to head to hanger 23A.
Brenda and I approached Hanger 23A with caution. I was half afraid of what we’d find. The prospect of finding Eddie dead in there wasn’t something I looked forward to. Stopping on the far side of the big hanger 23, we watched the front bay doors of the smaller hanger for a few minutes. OUt of habit, I reached for the .45, Sliding it discretely out of its hoster, I half hid it under my suit coat, as we approached the small door on the right side of the big plane door. I tried the knob on the small door. It turned easily. Opening the door I waited a second. Nothing happened. So I stepped in, Even as a small hanger it was big inside. The small office was several yards into the main building. Taking our time, Brenda and I went into the hanger. Several small single and two engine planes sat ready to take off from the big bay door which was at the moment closed. The lights hanging from the ceiling did little to offer an insight into the rest of the bay. Approaching the office I tried the door. It opened. Applearlenty, they didn’t take security seriously around here. Once we were satisfied that we were alone We lowered our guns, and begin to explore the small office space. Eddie definitely worked out of here. The calendar had notes for every day that he’d gone up recently. And the flight logs showed the fuel used, and miles and altitude and billing hours. In one of the filing cabinets, I found several folders showing invoices for fuel and parts for the plane. Most were marked as paid in full, however, several of the later ones from last week showed as yet to be paid.
Out on the workbenches in the big section of the hanger, Brenda found several cameras. I had seen the exact same ones back in the war. They were used to take aerial surveillance of enemy lands. Looking at the airplanes I found the inside controls for the camera, Both of the small planes had the same setup. So either plane could be used to take the pictures. We found everything but Eddie. I was getting more then a little worried that we’d either never find Eddie or we’d find him dead, which was what was likely if Ben Roberts got to him first. The heat in the hangar was almost unbearable. The relative coolness of 80 degrees outside with a breeze felt good once we stepped out again. The sun was blinding as our eyes adjust to the light.
But we are no closer to finding Ben Roberts or now, this Eddie character than were this morning.
On the way out of the airport, I stopped at the visitor center and called Walt. Giving him a report of the events of the day, I asked if he would open the Bar tonight, I didn't know how late we’d be.
Eddie's house was pretty much as we’d left it earlier that day. Only now there was a car in the driveway.
As we pulled up closer to the driveway I slowed down to a crawl and turned off the engine, letting it coast to a stop just beside the end of the driveway. The car was a pre-war they, much like the millions of others on the road. Sliding my pistol from its holster, I slid out of the car.
Hiding my pistol under my coat for the second time today, we approached the house. Brenda stayed behind me as I knocked on the door.
This time it opened. Eddie was tall and skinny. The permanently ruffled mop of hair on his head topped off a short cut beard. He was wearing a light open top shirt and jeans.
“Eddie Falcon?”
“Yeah, who wants to know?”
"Hello, I’m James St James, A PI here in LA, I need to ask you some questions” I answered fishing out my wallet with my free hand. He looked at my ID and shrugged.
“What can I tell you?”
“May we come inside?” I pressed.
“Yeah sure, it almost as hot in here as it is out here.” Eddie stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way, letting Brenda and Me in. While he closed the door, I secretly slid my pistol back where it lived.
“Oh and this is my wife, Brenda”
He said hello again,
“We have some questions about some pictures you’ve taken with your airplane.”
“Oh, What can I tell you? People pay me to fly around and take pictures.”
“We know. Thing is some pictures you took earlier this year, back around early March, late February, have caused some people to be upset.”
“Why, someone caught where they shouldn’t have been?”
“Actually yes. It seems that you took some pictures of the red light district back then.”
“Yeah so, I took pictures of almost the entire LA Valley at one time or another. Want a beer?” Eddie asked through the pass-through, as he opened the refrigerator.
“Eh. No. No thank You.”
“You have some water?” Brenda asked.
“Sure coming right up.” Eddie returned to the living room, where Brenda and I were sat in separate chairs. I had maneuvered my chair around so I could see both the front door and the back sliding door. He was carrying two glasses of water. Handing one to Brenda she passed by, He handed me the other, then went back for his beer. Setting down he looked between us.
Brenda opened the large folder full of pictures. Thumbing through it she pulled out several pictures. Laying them on the coffee table.
First the picture of our bar. Then the picture of the movie theater, with two cars in front of it.
“When did you take these? Particularly this one?” I asked indicating the Movie theatre picture.
He Looked at them,
***
Picking them up and carrying them over to the window he carefully looked over the pictures.
“I don’t remember these, But I can check my negatives. You said it was early this year?”
“Yes, we figure either February or March.”
“Ok, follow me.” I collected all the pictures, and We followed him to the back of the house. Through the kitchen to one of the back bedrooms.
The farthest bedroom in the back had been converted into a darkroom. The ensuite bathroom provided the water and necessary darkroom to develop film. The rest of the room has been converted into an office of sorts. Eddie went to one of the files cabinets and open it. Inside were neatly stacked and labeled canisters of film.
***
“One of the reasons we came to see you is this man.” I pulled out the picture of Ben Roberts and laid it on the desk in front of him.
Eddie’s face turned white as the color drained from his face.
“You know him?”
“Yess, Sort of.”
“What you mean sort of?”
“Er, he knows me. And he wants some negatives from me.”
“Negatives of this picture?” I held up the picture of the two cars in front of the theater.
Eddie nodded yes.
“But you don’t have them?”
“Noo, Em Yes..” he hedged.
“No and Yes?”
“It's like this, I hid that roll of negatives right after I figured out what they were.” Eddie started to explain.
Still nervous and scared he went on to explain.
“It was back in late February, early March. I had a bunch of jobs doing commercial work for several big advertising places. They wanted a wide variety of pictures of LA and the surrounding area to choose from for their layouts for their magazine ads. So I spent several days flying over the different areas of LA and the suburbs, all the way down to Van Nuys and the red light district. I had probably at least a dozen rolls of film by the time I was done. I developed prints of the pictures and showed it to them. They used maybe a half dozen pictures and told Me I could use the rest as I wanted. Since then I’ve been selling a print here and there. I even put some in some stores to sell retail. The store owners and I split whatever they get for the pictures they sell. I’ve sold a few. Not many.” Eddie began to calm down a bit.
“Sit down and tell me how you found this picture and where the negative is now.” Brenda brought in a glass of ice tea from the kitchen. Eddie drank a lot of it and sat down.
“Thanks, Mam.” Branda nodded and returned to stand guard in the living room. On her way out Brenda took her revolver from her pocketbook and carried it openly to the living room. Eddies eyes got big when he saw the gun. I don’t know if it was the gun or a woman carrying it that scared him more but he got scared again.
“Eddie, Look at me.!” I shouted to cut through the fear. Startled he returned to his chair and sat down staring at me.
“Eddie, Listen to me. We’re here to help you. We need the negative, and we don’t want anything to happen to you either. Calm down.”
I finally got him to focus again.
“When did you find the negative?”
I found it while I was indexing the pictures. I have a system I learned in the army for cataloging the rolls of film and the negatives from them when their shot. As I going through them, I spotted the picture of the theatre and checked my notes. About when I took that roll of film. It was taken the day that film star made the complaint about being attacked by the producer,”
“Ben Roberts” I supplied.
“Yeah him. He said he wasn’t there that day. But this picture proves he was.”
“It doesn't prove he killed her, But it does help support the idea that he knew her, and was there when she said he was .” I supplied again.
“Sooo What did you do with the negative, once you realized how important it was.?”
"I made several copies of the pictures. And I hid the negative.’
“I rented a bank safety deposit box and put in there.”
“Smart move. Then if someone like us, or him tries to find it, they won’t.”
“Right, I thought so. Until now.”
“That Son of Bitch has my wife, Claire.” he finally spat out.
Now I knew why he was so scared.
“Let me guess, he wants to trade her for the negative?” Eddie nodded yes.
“Okay take your time and tell me exactly what happened.” I coaxed him.
He drank some of the ice tea and seemed to calm down a bit.
“A few days ago this guy called me. Said he knew about the pictures of the theater and would I sell him the negatives? I said no. I don’t sell negatives at all.” I didn't think much of it at the time. But when I got home later, he was here. He had my wife tied up in here in the office. And he threatened to kill her if I didn't get him the negatives. I told him I couldn’t right away, there were hidden where I couldn’t get to them until the first of the week. He said I had until Monday evening to get the negatives or he’d kill her and me. And he took her with him. He was driving the same car as in the picture.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes. Both to let him calm down, and me to think.
“You didn't tell him exactly where it is?”
“No. Only that I couldn’t get to it until Monday.”
“Good. You bought yourself and now us some time.
"May I use your phone?”
I called Bob. Over the next few minutes, I filled him in on Eddie's story and problem. He said he’d be right over.
I let Brenda know to expect Bob. Meanwhile, she kept out of sight of the window and watched out front.
When Bob arrived he parked around the block and came in a back way to the house.
I made introductions and Eddie went over his story again.
“So the negatives are in the safety deposit box in the bank?”
“What else was on that roll of film?” Eddie went back to his office came back with a notebook. Here he had listed the roll number and print number of each of the frames on the roll. Next to each of them was a short description and in most of them a location of what was on the picture itself.
The picture everyone cared about was about halfway through the roll.
Eddie checked and he had small prints of the rest of the roll of film. Matching the pictures up with his notes, it was easy to trace his flight path for the series of pictures. The pictures right before it showed the back of the buildings from the air. I spotted the door I went to find Linda Mayor. I put them aside.
**
The three of us, Bob Brenda and I held a conference in the kitchen while Eddie waited in his office. We decided Eddie was probably pretty safe for the moment. However, to be sure, Bob made a call to the station. A few minutes later a couple of black and whites rolled up. Bob gave them a description and pictures of Ben Roberts. And told them basically what was going on. He wanted two men inside with Eddie, and two out front, and two out back.
“Listen, guys, This guy has killed at least twice, that I know of. He’s kidnapped Eddie's wife, I wouldn’t put it past him, to stash her somewhere and come back after him. So be careful, and don’t hesitate to use your shotguns if you need to.”
Brenda and I followed Bob’s car to the movie studio. Pulling up at the end of the block. Bob opened the trunk of his car. Inside was a pump shotgun and extra 12 gauge shells. He loaded it with a mix of shotshell, and slugs. I followed suit opening the trunk of my car. Inside I also had a shotgun and a lever action rifle. Brenda picked out the 20 gauge shotgun. No one said a word. Once we were all loaded up and ready to go. We locked our cars and made our way to the Movie studio.
The gate was unlocked and hanging half open. Either he was getting careless or he was expecting us. I think he was expecting us.
I closed my eyes and for a second I was back in Germany. The tension before a battle was returning. I felt my muscles tense up, and my hands start getting sweaty.
***
Bob gently pushed the open gate. It swung about halfway open, more than enough to let us slip in. We stood just inside the gate. Looking around we saw no signs of life. I pointed to the office with the barrel of my rifle.
He nodded and we approached the building. Stay as clear of the glass door as we could. All of us had chambered a round in our respective guns. Upon the small cement porch, Bob peeked through the glass door. Shaking his head no. There didn't seem to be anyone in there.
We carefully made our way back into the rest of the lot. Still no sign of Ben Roberts or his car, and no sign of Eddie's Wife. Finally, near one of the very back small sound stages, we found Ben’s car.
It was the same one we’d seen in his garage when we went to his place the first time, some time ago. Also, it was the same one in the picture of the theatre. I put my hand on the hood. Cold. The car had been sitting there a while. Looking in the windows of the car, we spotted some blankets and rope.
***
I went over to the pile and poked them with the barrel of my rifle. There was no one under them. But it was clear she’d been here at one point. I found hair and threads of material from her clothes in the pile. But both her and Ben Roberts was nowhere to be found.
We made our way back to our cars. Bob got on his radio. A few minutes later dispatch replied with a list of the cars Ben Roberts owned. Bob put an APB out on all of them. Save the one in the back soundstage. He also called the crime scene folks out to go over the entire building.
***
While we waited for them to arrive, We poked around some more in the soundstage where we found his car and the blankets. More evidence that he’d kept her here for a while was found. It seemed that he didn't try to cover his tracks at all. Which meant he didn't care, or fully expected us to find it, and didn't care. Either way, he was getting careless.
Bob gave them a brief rundown of what we thought and had found. Showing them the car and the spot where he’d obviously had her tied up and hidden her for some time.
Stone was with the captain when they arrived.
I kept my distance and only spoke when spoken too. Aside from not liking or trusting Stone, I didn’t want to cause Bob any problems with the Captain, I knew he’d been in hot water with him, over me before And I didn't want to add to it.
The captain came over to where Brenda and I were standing next to one of the police cars.
“James, St. James is It?” extending his hand.
“Yes, And this is my wife, Brenda.” I took it and shook it.
He turned to Brenda a shook her hand as well.
Returning back to me.
“I seem to remember some trouble with you last fall ?”
“Yes, that was me. I had about a week and half of some hoods trying to kill me. But that's all taken care of now.” I tried to let it drop. Shifting my position alongside the car, and pulling Brenda closer to me.
“Yess, Now I remember.”
“This new business, with the movie producer, you're involved with him somehow?” He seemed puzzled as to why I was here.
“Yes, It's a long story, but We think he’s behind an attempt to kidnap Brenda, and try to kill at least her, and probably me, since then. We also think he’s killed at least two women.”
“But you don’t have any proof, do You?” he prodded.
“Yes, we do. His fingerprints were found all over the scene of Lisa Mayers body. And he was known to have been with her shortly before she disappeared.” I stated’
My stomach growled rather loudly. I think the Captain heard it.
“Now if you don’t need us anymore, We’d like to get out of here, and get some lunch.” I guided Brenda pass the Captain, and towards our car. Along the way, I caught Bob’s eyes and let him know we were leaving. He nodded, as I got into our car.
Once we were in our car, and backing out of the crime scene. I relaxed a bit.
Once the doors slammed shut. It was quiet. I glanced over at Brenda and pulled her over next to me on the bench seat.
Starting the car, I carefully backed out the maze of vehicles.
Once back on the main street, I headed for the main drag.
Neither of us said anything for a while.
“Hungry?”
“Yes”
“And tired and scared.”
“You have a right to be. Hon.”
“I’m tired too. Tired of finding dead girls, and looking for a missing movie maker.” About then I noticed a dinner on the right. Pulling in I parked and we sat for a few more minutes and talked.
The food was good, and the cold soft drinks washed it down nicely. Paying for the meal, we headed back to the car.
While we were eating I kept going back to the estate. Where he had all the rooms set up for shooting pictures, and the screening room. That was his comfort zone. He had taken her to the studio, and for whatever reason moved her. Where would he go? Back home where he was in control.
Starting the car, We headed for Ben Roberts estate on the other side of town. The more I thought it through. It occurred to me that he was at the end of his rope, money was about gone, he needed to desperately find the negatives of the picture that placed him at the junk shop on the day Lisa Mayer disappeared, and Eddie had the negative, and the only way to get to Eddie was through his wife. I doubt that he even remembered Brenda anymore. I don’t think he was thinking clearly.
Along the way, I stopped at a gas station and called Bob. He told me the captain had made him pull survivance off the estate when he didn't have any solid leads. It has been a couple days since it's been watched. Yeah, he could definitely be there. He told me to be careful. Hanging up, I pondered waiting for him to arrive with back up. Deciding against it because I felt that the longer we waited, the more chances of him going completely out of control, and hurting Eddie’s wife.
Pulling up at the end of the driveway. We got out. Opening the trunk of the car. I pulled out my favorite lever action and checked it to make sure it was loaded, picking up a couple of spare magazines for the colt 1911. I pocketed them in the left-hand pocket of my suit coat. Brenda took the 20 gauge pump and loaded it with both shot and slugs. And a couple of extra moon clips for her .38 revolver. Slamming the lid down on the trunk, we were both loaded for bear.
“You know you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. .” The look on her face told me not to argue with her.
Glancing at my watch as we crossed the street to his driveway. 2 PM.
We carefully made our way the driveway, trying to keep out of sight of the main house. Reaching the front door. I paused to catch my breath and clear my head. Pushing back the images of the war. After waiting a few minutes by the door with no sound coming from inside. I decided it was time to find out if he was home.
I stepped back from the door and kicked it hard. It didn't move. So much for a relatively quiet entrance. I borrowed the shotgun from Brenda. Pointing it at the small space between the doorknob and the door jam, holding the barrel close to the door. I fired. The sound of the shotgun going off echoed down the quiet streets of fancy houses, and eventually bounced off the hills behind the houses. Before the first sound of the blast could become an echo, I kicked the door where the slug had tore through the wood. The door swung open inside. The small foyer was just as I remembered it form the first visit. The sounds of my shotgun blast echoed in the house. The floor in front the door was covered in wood and cast iron and pieces of metal were buried in the woodwork near the door. Pellets had peppered the floor and part of the wall inside the room. The slug itself had buried itself in the floor about three feet inside the room. I took all of this in one glance. Standing perfectly quiet I handed the shotgun back to Brenda. As she stepped in behind me. There was no noise whatsoever, save the sound of Brenda racked a second shell into the chamber of the shotgun. It was quiet. Too quiet.
We stood listening for several minutes. Still no sound. Carefully stepping over the mess the door had made when I shot it open I toured all the rooms downstairs, with Brenda watching my back. No one was there. Logic said he was here. He had to have heard the gun when we blew open the door. Why no response? I pointed to the stairs.
Carefully we made our way up the stairs, guns ready for action the second anything presented itself.
At the top of the stairs. Everything looked the same as it had before. All the rooms had their doors closed. Again we took our time. I learned the hard way back in the war, the just running in was a good way to get dead. I’d seen it happen all too many times. I was also aware that we had no cover or protection at all in the hall. If any of the doors opened and he shot, we were sitting ducks, with no cover only return fire, if he missed. I was beginning to wonder if he was even there.
***
I motioned her to the other wall. And we slowly made our way to the first door. It was on my side. While she covered the door from across the hall with the shotgun, I carefully stepped across to the knob, and standing as far away as I could I turned it, and let it swing open. The door swung open. Letting it hit the wall behind it. We waited. Stepping inside. I found it untouched. We repeated the operation for each of the doors down the hall. All were empty and looked like they hadn’t been used in months. Eventually, We came to the last two doors. One was one of the “Girls Rooms” and the other was his master bedroom suite.
Again we carefully opened the door. This time it wasn’t untouched.
The bed was a mess. And cloths were dumped all over the bed, and chairs were turned over. It was clear, someone had been in here for a while and it didn't end well. I motioned for Brenda to back out of the room.
That left only one more door. We stood pondering it. If he was really here, He has to know we’re here. But why no challenge, or taunts?
Approaching the door from the side. I used the barrel of my rifle to knock on the door.
“Ben, Ben Roberts.
"It's James St.James here. It's over.” I all but shouted to make myself heard on the other side.
No sound. Not even the shuffles of chairs, or breathing.
“I’m coming in !!” I announced as I put the barrel of the rifle between the doorknob and the door frame. Squeezing the trigger I sent a round through the door. Tearing away wood and metal. The sound of the rifle going off in the building as even louder than the shotgun outside. I didn’t even try to yell. I just kicked the door in as the echo died away. Stepping inside I ran the action on lever action cycling a new round to the chamber.
***
The room was empty. Glancing around the room. The bed was messed up, in fact, most of the blankets were in a pile on one side of the end. Cloths were thrown all over the floor, closet doors hung open. In the far corner of the room, I spotted what appeared to be a gun cabinet. Being careful as to not touch anything I opened the glass door. Inside were spaces for a number of rifles and shotguns, All were filled with shotguns and a couple of hunting rifles. But the one on the far left was empty. I had no way of knowing what was usually there, just that it was not here now. I also noticed several handguns in the bottom of the cabinet. I couldn’t tell what was missing. But I suspected that at least one was gone. I motioned for Brenda to get out of the room. As I turned to leave. I spotted a note neatly placed on the top of the highboy dresser, which was hanging with most of its drawers open and empty.
Carefully picking it up. It was addressed to me,
“James St.James;
If you want to find that Whore wife of Eddie's alive bring the negatives to all of his films to me and maybe I’ll let her live.
Meet me at the theatre.
Oh and Bring that wife of yours too, I never did get to meet her.”
Holding the note with my napkin, I carried it over to Brenda.
“Oh he’ll meet me alright.” is all she could say. As we made our way downstairs.
Bob and his boys arrived about the time we made the front door. I filled them in on the search of the house. Showing Bob the note, he agreed to come with me and offer cover.
I called Walt and filled him in on what was happening. He said he’d head for the theater and stake it out.
On our way over to the meeting place, we stopped and talked to Eddie, filling him in on what we’d found at Roberts’s house.
**
Pulling on the block of the Movie Theater and Junk shop, I easily spotted Walt’s big Mecuccary sedan sitting up about half way from the theater, on the opposite side of the road. Walt was leaning against the front fender nearest the theatre. His arms neatly crossed in front of him. I knew his right hand was sitting on the butt of the .45 semi-auto that rode in the shoulder holster under his light tan suit coat. His fedora was pulled down at an angle to keep the sun out of his eyes and still watch our building. I parked just a little ways behind him. Getting out, I carefully surveyed the street as I walked over and leaned against his car fender.
Adjusting my fedora to keep the sun which by this time of day was getting low enough it care across the valley hitting eyes at angles not normally seen during the rest of the day and evening.
Thankful for the slight shade of the palm tree planted near his car.
I didn't say a word for a few seconds.
“How long you been here?”
Shifting his left arm slightly, he had replied.
“About twenty minutes.”
“Any movement?”
"Nope. Been quiet. Course he could have slipped out the back”
I thought which had crossed my mind. But I doubted it.
“Bob’ll be here in a few minutes we stopped at Eddie's and filled him on what was happening.” I shifted my position a bit as I spotted Bob’s unmarked police car come up the block and pull in behind my ford.
***
Walt and I walked over to Bob’s car as he shut it down.
Once we were all out and standing on the sidewalk Brenda joined us.
Walt volunteered to watch the back, in case he tried to skip out at the last minute. Collecting his shotgun from the car he headed around the back of the theater. Once he was out of sight the three of us collected our weapons of choice, my lever action, and Brenda her shotgun. Bob took his shotgun from the trunk of his car.
The movie theater had long ago seen better days. The 1920’s Art Deco influence was still visible. The depression and the war had not been kind the building. It had been reduced from being a showplace to bring the family to for afternoon manties, to a place where people hid and didn't want to be seen near or in. Recently it had been closed up completely when Bob and Stone arrested and charged the old couple that owned it with a variety of charges related to buying and selling porn, and other sex-related crimes.
As I reached the door. Which was supposedly locked. I pushed it. It swung open easily. Stepping inside, the foyer, as I had done before, I noted the door to the office was locked with a police lock, along with the doors to the back rooms. Bob and I marched straight through the lobby and into the main theater room. Pushing the swinging doors open we stepped inside.
The only lights on were on the stage two spotlights pointed to the main stage. A stage that had once presented many vaudeville and circus acts over the years. Now it was empty except for two figures.
I’d seen pictures of Ben Roberts, both from the newspapers, and the police records that he had. But seeing him in person even from the distance was a shock.
He was a small man. Almost bald, wearing small wire-framed glasses that made him look older than he was. His suit was old and dirty. We approached the center of the auditorium. He finally spoke.
“Stop!” The word echoed in the empty room. We stopped where we were.
“Ben, I’m James St.__”
“I know who you are. You've been dogging me all over this city for weeks.”
“Well, Yeah, You tried to have my wife kidnapped. I’ve found the bodies you left behind.”
"And they’ll be at least one more.” he interpreted.
“No, No there won’t. Because this ends now. Ben. It's all over.
The running hiding, and, an the killing.”
Bob was on my left, and Brenda was my right. We all had our long guns pointed at him. I doubt he could see exactly what we were doing. We were just far enough into the middle of the seats to be barely seen by the stage. While I had been talking Both Bob and Brenda had quietly spread themselves out among the seats on either side of me.
“Tell me about Lisa Mayer. The actress.”
“What about her?”
“She was your big star in the movie last year, and then the second movie didn't do so well. What happened?
Did she refuse you?”
He hesitated,
“Where did you kill her?
At the junk shop next door?
You strangled her, and dumped in the empty building next door.”
I pushed. Stepping forward some more into the light.
He tensed up.
“Calm down and talk to me,” I said as I got closer to the stage.
And the other girls. Now Claire, You really don't want to hurt her, do you?”
He pulled her closer to him and put his gun up to her head.
“Stop IT!!!”
“You know you won’t walk out of here if you hurt her..”
In the harsh light of the stage, I could see he’d beaten her and tore her sundress half off. And the wet puddle on the floor under feet showed how scared she was. Hell, I was scared too.
I looked directly at her. Ignoring Ben.
“ Claire. Claire. Its ok, Eddies waiting for you to come home. You’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“The negatives from the film. I want them.”
I’d hoped he’d forgotten about them. He hadn’t.
“You're not getting them. I don’t have them, and I can’t get them. There are only two ways this ends, Ben, One you let her go and we arrest you. Or, Or you kill her, In which case you’ll be dead before she hits the floor.
It's up to you, But either way not getting the negatives. So forget about them.” I made a show of pulling the hammer back on my rifle. Pointing it at his head.
“At this range, I won’t miss.” I was very careful with my trigger finger. This rifle has a very light trigger, and could easily be fired without trying. I wasn’t prepared to be responsible for accidentally hitting her. But at the same time, I could easily fire on him and not miss his head.
“You said you wanted to meet Brenda in your note.” I piped up changing the subject.
“Yeah, yeah I did.”
“She wants to meet you too.”
With that, Brenda stepped out onto the stage Right.
“Hello, Ben. You don’t know me But you tried at least twice to either kidnap or kill me.” Brenda stepped out in the light with her shotgun pointed directly at him.
“All I did was buy a picture for my bar. It had no relevance to the pictures you were worried about. But you hired three guys to kidnap me when you finally found me. You know what ? I killed Willie Black that night. Shot him dead. Which is what I should do to you.” I knew if she fired at that range, even with a slug, there was was good chance some would hit her. But most would end him.
“You see Ben there's no way you're leaving here.”
Bob stepped out of the shadows on stage Left, also pointing his shotgun at them.
***
“This is Detective Bob Cramer, LA PD. He’s here to arrest you for murder and too many other charges to mention here.” I introduced Bob.
Ben looked back and forth between me, and Brenda, then Bob. I laid down my rifle on the chair in front of me. Slowly I pulled out the pile of pictures I’d been carrying around for the last week or so.
Finding the one of Lisa, The one from the warehouse where I’d found her. I held it up where he could see it.
“This was Lisa when I found her.” He probably couldn’t see it very good, from that distance and in the bad light. But it was enough.
His demeanor changed, The small ill-fitting man, lowered his pistol and stepped back away from the lady. Brenda ran and pulled her with her off the stage. All the time keeping her shotgun pointed at Ben. and Bob and Walt, who had been watching off stage behind Brenda came and removed the small pistol from his hand and took him off the stage.
Suddenly I could breathe again. Watching Walt and Bob roughly manhandled Ben off the stage I begin to relax when I saw Brenda appear in the light by the stage not twenty feet in front of me. Claire was a mess, But Brenda had found an old overcoat in a back room and put it around her shoulders. Brenda’s left arm was around her shoulders as they approached me. I took the shotgun from Benda’s right hand and carried the two long guns back the way we’d come in what seemed like hours ago. Glancing At my watch as I opened the trunk of my car. I saw it's only been about a half hour at most.
By this time a black and white patrol car had arrived. Bob shoved him in the back of the car. And they took off.
Brenda and I took her back to Eddie's Place. The drive over was quiet. We were each lost in your own thoughts as Brenda tried to comfort a very shaken and terrified woman in the back seat. I drove like a madman back across town. Once in a while, I could hear muttering from the back seat. She was crying and Benda found a handkerchief laying the back somewhere and was helping her pull herself together before we got to her place.
There were two Black and Whites sitting on the front yard and driveway when we pulled up. Pulling into the driveway behind one other car. I shut my car down.
The old Ford sedan shuttered and sputtered as if it would never start again. I kinda felt the same way. Drained. Leaning back in my seat I closed my eyes for a few minutes. No one said or did anything for what seemed like much longer than it actually was. The spell was broken by the slamming of the front door of the house.
Eddie came running out of the house. Letting the door slam shut behind him. Suddenly I felt the car shake as he reached for the back door handle. Pulling it open. He practically fell inside the back, trying to get to his wife.
Brenda slid over to the other side, and let them have most of the seat. After a minute, she managed to slide out the other door.
Meanwhile shaken from my reprieve, I managed to get myself out of the driver's seat. And Meet her halfway in front of the car. Leaning against the still hot hood we kissed. Our arms found their familiar places as we hugged.
The quiet of the afternoon was broken by the radios in the police cars.
Once of the uniforms came over to Brenda and I.
“Sir, I hate to interrupt but there's a call for you from Detective Cramer”
“Oh okay, hang on a second” as I disintenageled myself from Brenda. Reluctantly I let Brenda go and followed the officer to his car.
“Jim Here” I keyed up the mike he handed me.
“Yeah, Jim I hate to break up the reunions over there, but I need you all to come down to the station and make statements.”
“Yeah I know, we’ll be along quick as we can. Some people are very happy to back together again.”
“Oh and don’t forget to stop at the bank and get the negatives from Eddie's box.”
“We won’t see you in a bit” I handed the mike back to the officer and thanked him.
Going to the back of the car, I told them what Bob had said about statements. Glancing at my watch I noted it was almost time for the bank to close.
Getting in, started the car again. Brenda slid into the front seat beside me. I absentmindedly reached and squeezed her hand as she slid up close to me. Eddie told me what bank he had the safety deposit boxes at, and we took off. Twenty minutes later, just before they closed, we got in there. I went in with Eddie and watched while he presented his credentials and signed the form to get his key, and followed him back to the room. Once in the small room with a simple table in the middle and several small chairs, we opened the box. Inside were about a dozen canisters of film. We collected them all and put them in a leather rough sack he’d brought. Locking up the box, we turned over the key and left. Brenda was in the front seat, Eddie’s wife still in the back seat. I opted to keep the leather bag up front with us. As I tossed it in between Brenda and me, I noticed her hand was in her purse again.
A half hour later we pull up to the police station. The four of us found our way to Bob’s small office. Walt was already there, reading his statement. Signing it, he stepped into the hall to make room for us. Saying he’d open the bar later, he took off. I thanked him for his help and said we’d try to get there as quick as we could.
****
I poured a cup of coffee, handing one to Brenda, I asked Eddie and Claire if they wanted one, they said no. Bob nodded yes. So I poured him a cup, taking mine I leaned against the wall. Bob leaned back in his old wooden desk chair. Clasping his hands behind his head, he sighed.
“Well, folks he’s downstairs in the holding cells. I’ve booked him on charges ranging from illegal possession of a gun, to kidnap, attempted murder, on you, Clair, and possible charges relating to Brenda.”
“He say anything?” Eddie wondered.
“Nothing useful.”
“I kinda figured as much. He’ll talk eventually.” I commented. Sipping my still too hot coffee.
“Meanwhile Jim, you and Brenda take your time,and go over everything and put together a timeline and statement for me to present to the DA. I can charge with this afternoon's episode, but I want to be able to tie him to the murder of Lisa Mayor. And the other girl.
“Eddie , Clair, we have your statements, and information, you're free to go, if we need you we’ll be in touch.” Bob got up and shook their hands and lead them out the door. Turning back to me,he closed the door.
He went back to his too small desk and picked up his phone.
“Eddie and Clair, the ones with the Ben Roberts kidnapping, they just left, have a tail put on them, yeah right. Thanks.”
Brenda and I looked at each other.
Sipping his coffee, he eased himself back into his chair.
“Just being careful is all. I don’t want any slip-ups when it comes to Roberts, It's probably nothing, But I figured it wouldn’t hurt for a while until we had the case against Roberts sewed up tight.”
Glancing at my watch I noted that it almost time for us to go open the bar. We hadn’t been there is several nights, it had either been closed or Walt had run it. It was time we put in an appearance.
Brenda and I said our goodbyes and promised to get back to him as soon as we could with our statements, having signed statements for this afternoon's incident, we were set for now.
We headed back to the bar.
On the way, neither of us said much. Brenda slid up next to me as we drove. Out of habit, I kept an eye on the rear view mirror for anything suspicious. The traffic was getting heavy as we made our way across town. Stopping at a number of lights and waiting for streetcars to either pass or turn made us that much later.
Pulling in behind the bar in our usual parking place. I noticed my old Ford coupe was sitting next to my spot. Walt was waiting by the open back door.
“You got it put back together again,” I noted as we went in.
“It's been back together, I just haven’t seen you long enough to get it to you.”
“Yeah about that, Thanks for helping We really appreciate it.” I shook his hand and he handed me the bill.
I glanced at it, Worth every penny.
“I’ll get with you and get your money, the first of the month. That OK?”
“No hurry, I know where you live.” he joked.
Once we were inside, I found Brenda had already started getting the bar ready to open, Finding a cold beer in the fridge, I took one and tossed one to Walt.
We only had the one beer. Brenda opened the front doors and turned on the signs, and soon the usual's begin filling in.
The evening went quietly and quickly. It was good to be working the bar again. It had been quite a while since I’d been relaxed enough to enjoy the time with Brenda.
At two am, we closed up the Bar. We were there another hour going over the books and receipts from when Walt had run it for us for a few days. Once everything was set and square, We headed home.
The sight of the bungalow was welcome the full moon lite up the scene as we approached the porch.
Within a half hour, the doors were locked and the lights were off.
But sleep didn't come quietly.
***
The events of the day kept repeating themselves over and over in my mind. The dead girl in the warehouse, the look on Clair’s face when I walked in the theater. The sheer panic and terror. I saw Ben Roberts as a small little man that had shown promise and when he couldn’t do what was expected of him by Hollywood, he turns his back on them, and when to another place.
He didn't care for much of anyone. The girls, the couple in the theater, were all just a means to an end. The flashes of the war started again. For several minutes I was France, then Germany, I woke up screaming several times. Brenda held me while stopped shaking. Eventually, sleep came.