| |
It cost Calvin ten dollars and a good deal of pride to get them into Private Eyes. The bouncer at the door looked them up and down and then laughed aloud before motioning them inside.
“Well, at least it’s dark,” Calvin said. “Maybe no one will recognize me.”
Gertrude followed him to a table tucked into the shadows of a back corner. She tried not to look at the stage, where a woman was twitching her way out of a camouflage bikini. Soon, they were approached by a woman holding a notepad. Gertrude was relieved to see that, though she was scantily clad, all her private parts were covered.
“Hey, Old Man Crow,” she cooed.
Calvin groaned. “So much for anonymity.”
“What can I get for you and your gal here?”
“She’s not my gal, and I’ll take a glass of Chianti.”
“I’m sorry, what?” The server leaned in closer.
“Chianti?”
“I don’t think we have that.”
“Fine. Red wine. In a clean glass please.”
Gertrude declined to order, and the woman sauntered off.
“Why does it have to be so loud?” Calvin half-shouted to Gertrude.
“So that men can’t hear their conscience,” Gertrude half-shouted back. She tried to look around the room for clues without actually seeing any breasts. It wasn’t easy.
The server returned with Calvin’s wine. “Sure you don’t want anything, honey?”
It took Gertrude a moment to realize the woman was talking to her. “Uh yeah, sorry, running a little low on cash.”
The woman gave up and moved on to the next table, which appeared to be full of high school boys. “They can’t possibly be old enough to be in here,” Gertrude said.
Calvin didn’t respond.
She looked at him and was amused to find him apparently entranced by the avid hunter hanging off the pole. Gertrude scanned the room again, fearing that this little foray into Mattawooptock’s underbelly was going to be in vain. Then she saw her. She stabbed a chubby elbow into Calvin’s side.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, his hand flying to his side. “What was that for?”
“Look!” Gertrude hissed.
“Look at what?”
“That’s her!”
“That’s who?”
“The woman from the photos!”
“What photos?”
Oh yeah, I never showed him the photos. “I’m going to go talk to her. Drink your wine.”
The woman was waiting on another table halfway across the room. Gertrude approached and then stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt the drink orders. The woman finished scribbling on her pad and then began to walk away when she noticed Gertrude staring at her. “Can I help you?”
“I like your dress,” Gertrude said.
The woman took a step closer. She was wearing a low-cut neon green number that barely covered her hiney. “Well, thank you, honey. I like yours too.” Gertrude was wearing a baggy, faded, flower-patterned romper that fell below her knees. She looked down at it in confusion. When she looked up, the woman was standing inches from her. She smelled like sandalwood and cigarette smoke.
“What’s your name?” Gertrude asked, suddenly painfully aware of her discomfort. She fought the urge to step back from the woman.
“Trixie. What’s yours?”
“Gertrude.”
“And how can I help you tonight, Gertrude?”
“I have photos of you in bed with multiple men.” Never has a smile faded so quickly. Trixie’s eyes snapped to life. “Well, not at the same time,” Gertrude clarified.
“Who are you?” she hissed.
“I’m not going to cause you any trouble,” Gertrude said. “I’m just trying to figure out who killed Lori.”
“Lori’s dead?”
“Quite.”
“Come with me,” she said and headed toward the back. Gertrude followed. Trixie entered one of the little rooms, and Gertrude panicked at the thought that Trixie was going to give her a lap dance. Gertrude stepped into the room just enough so that the door would shut. Then she stood there. “You can sit,” Trixie said.
Gertrude shook her head.
“So what happened?” Trixie crossed her arms.
“She was murdered.”
“How?”
“Not sure.”
Trixie began to pace. “That’s too bad. Lori was a nice lady.”
“You knew her well?” Gertrude asked.
“Not really. We just worked together.”
“Did you do anything else together?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trixie snapped.
“Well, I have reason to believe that she was blackmailing some people. I just wondered if you were involved in that.”
Trixie stared at Gertrude for several seconds, seeming to size her up. Then she said, “Do the cops know?”
Gertrude said, “I don’t think so.” Then she had a second thought. “But I did tell a friend, you know, for my own safety.”
“So why are you making this your problem?”
“I have my reasons,” Gertrude said.
“Well, you should be careful,” Trixie said. “Lori was mixed up with some not-so-nice folks. Turns out people don’t like being blackmailed.”
“Were you in on it?”
“Just between us?” Trixie asked.
Gertrude nodded.
“Yeah, but I’ll deny it. Besides, I’m sure the whole thing’s over now.”
“What was your cut?” Gertrude asked.
“Half.”
“How many men?”
“Two.”
“Who?” Gertrude probed.
Trixie didn’t answer.
“Look, I know one of them was Silas.”
Trixie became furious, and she looked scared. “I think I’ve answered enough of your questions. You’re not even a cop. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” She flung open the door and walked out.
When Gertrude came out onto the main floor, she saw Calvin staring at her. He actually looked concerned. She headed his way until something else caught her eye. The man from the second photo was sitting in front of the stage. He was alone. Gertrude veered off her path and headed his way. Before she could reach him though, Calvin grabbed her arm. “We should go.”
“No, wait!” Gertrude cried as Calvin dragged her away.
“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Gertrude gave up and followed Calvin outside. Once they were breathing the refreshingly clean outside air, Gertrude snapped, “What?! Now you’ll probably have to pay to get us back in there.”
“I’m not going back in there, you nincompoop!”
“Oh, name calling, nice.”
Calvin headed toward his car. Gertrude looked around for a better plan and then followed him.
When they reached the Cadillac, Gertrude caught her breath and asked, “What happened?”
Calvin looked pretty winded himself. He put his arms on the roof of the car and leaned on them. “I’m too old for this, Gertrude. I’m glad you’re having an adventure, but I don’t want to be part of it anymore. That guy you were going to talk to? He’s a cop. I know him. He used to date my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?” Gertrude interrupted. She couldn’t picture it.
“Yes, I have a daughter. Anyway, that guy’s Frank Malone. First of all, he’s married. Second, he’s a cop, and you were going to ask him about a murder, and you’re not a cop. You were going to get yourself in trouble, and that was going to call attention to me, and I couldn’t let that happen, because you know who else was in that room?”
“Half of Mattawooptock?”
“My granddaughter!”
“You have a granddaughter?” Calvin was just full of surprises.
“Yes, she just took the stage, so to speak. Can you even imagine how uncomfortable that would have been if she had seen me in there, seeing her? Look, get in the car or don’t. Either way, I’m going home. It’s the middle of the night for crying out loud.”
Gertrude got in the car. Calvin pulled out into the empty street.
“Calvin?”
He sighed. “What.”
“I understand. You’re tired. This isn’t your adventure. But I think someone might be in danger. Would you help me make sure she’s OK? You don’t even have to get out of the—”
“No. If someone is in danger, tell the police.”
“Pull the car over.”
“What?”
“Pull over. I have to show you something.”
Calvin pulled over. Gertrude unbuckled and then grunted as she rolled over to reach over the back of the seat to her walker pouch. She couldn’t quite reach, so she pulled herself up and over the seat, causing her rear end to hover perilously close to Calvin’s face.
“Do you mind?” he asked, pressing himself against his door.
She grabbed the envelope and allowed herself to drop back into her seat, which shook the whole car. She pulled the photos out of the envelope. Calvin flicked on the reading light and then gasped at the sight of Silas tangled up with Trixie. “This is the girl I was talking to. Trixie. I think she’s in danger,” she said, pointing to the top photo. Then she slid it off the pile. “And this,” she said, pointing to the second man, “is your cop. I think Lori and Trixie were blackmailing these men with these photos. I found them in Lori’s trailer.”
“The men or the photos?”
“The photos. And Trixie said they were only blackmailing two men. Which means they hadn’t started blackmailing one of them yet. I think they just started to blackmail the mayor, and he freaked out and killed Lori. I think he might kill Trixie too.”
“Wait, why would Frank be in the strip club if he were being blackmailed?”
“I don’t know,” Gertrude said thoughtfully. “Maybe his wife allows him to go to the strip club but she draws the line at fornicating with the stripper.”
“So,” Calvin thought, “you’re saying the mayor framed the water park owner?”
“Why not? He’s a good suspect, being blackmailed himself and all. But we need to get the cop’s alibi, to prove he didn’t do it. The mayor will probably try to frame him for Trixie’s murder! Time is of the essence, Calvin!”
Calvin rolled his eyes. “Have you shown the police these photos?”
“Yes,” Gertrude lied. “The police don’t care about a murdered stripper. It’s up to us to protect these women!”
“I don’t know,” Calvin said thoughtfully.
Oh goodie, he’s considering it. “Let’s just stick with her for a little while,” Gertrude said. “She won’t even know we’re there. Then, if she gets into real trouble, we’ll call the police.”
“No, Gertrude. I’m sorry. I’m drawing the line. If you think she’s in danger, call the police now. I’m old. I’m tired. I’m going home and going to bed.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said and started to get out of the car.
“Wait,” Calvin said.
Gertrude stopped and looked at him expectantly.
“I’m not going to just leave you in front of a bar at midnight. Let me take you home.”
“No,” she said and started to climb out again.
“If you don’t let me take you home, I will call the cops and tell them you’re mentally ill and you need help.”
Gertrude gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I will.”
Gertrude shut the door and slumped in her seat, defeated. “Fine. Take me home.”
Truth be told, she was exhausted too. And she was nearly asleep when Calvin pulled into the trailer park.
“Did you know your granddaughter was a stripper?” Gertrude asked. She couldn’t help herself.
“No, I most certainly did not,” he said, pulling into his driveway.
Gertrude thanked Calvin for his help and then headed toward her trailer. She considered revisiting Joel, but all the lights were off in trailer number nine. And she was just too tired. So she took a hot bath, made herself some tea, and then crawled into a bed full of cats. What a full day, she thought as they purred her to sleep.