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I recommend you carry a purse. In it keep a gun, another gun, a bigger gun, and maybe some lipstick.
~Lou Tanner, P.I., Notes for female Pemberton Graduates, 1935
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THIS MUG ALWAYS GOT his way, no matter what. I tried the lady-like option of glaring at his hand on my arm. When that didn’t work, leaned close and whispered, “I’ve got a very loud, piercing scream. And if you aren’t the man I’m looking for ...”
He was quite amused. Too much so. I gathered he liked a little push-back when he got rough. “Okay, okay. I’m Cab Proctor. And your name is ...”
“Lucille.” I gave him the overhanded handshake which approached from such a position that a man might shake in earnest or kiss a girl’s knuckles. Yup. He went for it; lips planting a slimy snail’s trail across the back of my gloved hand. He squeezed my fingers looking to see if I handled the pain to his satisfaction. Charming.
“So, Lulu, what brings you here, looking for me?”
Lulu? No one calls me Lulu. What a creep. My expression stayed pleasant and engaged while I enjoyed considering how many ways I could get away with ending his future interest in sex.
“Is there a place where we can talk — privately?”
“We’re all friends here.”
“Including Frannie Coventry?” I whispered.
His face reddened in embarrassment and he took a sudden interest in the sweater-pills on his chest. “Frannie doesn’t come here much anymore. You a friend?”
“No. I’ve only met her once, but I do have some information that might help you with her.”
“What makes you think I need help,” he snapped while not meeting my gaze. What was it with men. Am I so scary they can’t look me in the eyes? “And, how much is this gonna' cost me to learn what you’ve got?”
“Relax, Honey.” I smiled and leaned against his arm. “I don’t want much. Now, can we talk in private or are all these people really your friends?”
“Define ‘friend.’” He snorted.
“Touché.”
“Come on, Lulu. To my office.” He motioned for me to follow, not even offering his arm. I didn’t mind, I wanted to keep him in front of me, where I could keep an eye on his hands and motions.
Proctor opened a door and I signaled he should go first. As I stepped through, I made sure no one was following me.
Like Harold Harrison? He walked in, dressed in a suit, loosened tie, and no Gem Harrison on his arm – or anywhere nearby. Money down, Gem was kvetching with Irenie over on Vallejo Street. They were likely trying to out-mourn one another. Harold was ordering a drink, when he noticed me. I didn’t stay long in his sights and followed Proctor.
The “office” turned out to be the liquor storage room. Pallets and boxes rested along the walls, with the company of empty bottles. An open door to the left appeared to access the basement. A wine cellar?
Stopping in the middle of the room by a tall wooden crate, sure no one would hear us now, Proctor turned on me. “Frannie didn’t send you, did she? We were all done, Frannie and me.” He walked toward me, shoulders back, hoping his height might be intimidating. “Now, with Frannie not in my life, I do have room for another doll.” His eyes wandered up and down my figure. “You look like you want some improved company. And I’m a vast improvement on your average Joe.”
I gave him a solid, unmistakable shove back. “Sorry, boyfriend, I don’t take scraps off another woman’s table. Besides, as you said, Frannie didn’t send me.”
He glowered at me, folded his arms, and physically dared me to try to tough-guy him again. “So, Irenie sent you? Figures. Stupid bimbo. I told her to calm down and not to worry. I have no intention of ...” Maybe it was my expression that confused him, but he stopped mid-sentence, clearly not knowing if he should say more. “Irenie didn't send you, either?”
“No. I came on my own.”
“Whatever for?”
“To ask you about a cheque you partially wrote to Frannie. No, don’t deny it, I’ve seen it.”
“None of your business, Honey. If you have half a brain, you’ll steer clear of that family. They’re whacked. Everyone one of them.”
“Frannie and her mother are certainly interesting gals.”
He huffed. “You’ve got no idea, Sister. The husband’s just as nuts too.”
I tried not to get defensive. My cheeks heated, and my first instinctive desire was to pop him one in the beak. But, I needed more from him. I fought my violent urges and grit my teeth. Lockwood deserved better than that from a lowlife like Proctor. Why was I being so emotional about Lockwood? Keep it professional, Lou. “What did you promise Irenie? What does she have over your head?”
“What are you, a private dick?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
He glared at me, smug as politician. “You? That’s rich. Well, Sweetheart, I don’t have to answer your questions. You’re no copper.”
“True.” I reached into my purse and pulled out my badge for him. For me, I took the moment to make sure the Savage was ready for my grasp. “But, I’m a lot easier to deal with than the police.”
“So what.”
“So, you dumb stump, I don’t have the habit of dragging people into dark jail cells and beating confessions out of them. Use your brain. You have one, don’t you? Tell me why you gave Frannie a cheque, unsigned.”
“To keep her mother off her back. I told you, Frannie and I were done.”
I nodded, as if I believed him. “Why did you think Irenie sent me? Come on, quit holding back ... why did you think Irenie sent me?”
“’Cause Frannie wouldn’t. She couldn’t.” He bit his lower lip and drew back. There it was, he’d said something he thought was too much.
“I know she couldn’t.”
He looked away from me. “Something happened to her, didn’t it?” His voice was pleading and despondent.
“Something permanent.”
Proctor sat down hard. “Are you sure? She’s dead?”
“I saw her myself.”
Was he acting? Of course, he was acting most of the time, leaving anyone to wonder who the real Proctor was. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and started a kitten-like cry.
“Snap out of it! You already knew she was dead.”
Proctor jumped and stared at me. No tears. Not even a little redness around the rims of his eyes. Faker. I glared. He sighed, almost apologetically. “A little bird told me. I can’t say I’m surprised. But honestly, the cheque was insurance for Frannie to keep her mother at bay.”
“Frannie was blackmailing you. The cops will come find you. Here, very likely ...in front of all your friends ... arrest you for her murder.”
“No! I mean, no, I didn’t ...”
“That’s your best defense?”
He sat with his mouth open.
I tucked my badge back into my purse. “Where were you last night?”
“At the Shanghai Palace over in Chinatown.”
“All night?”
“Ah, yes. I think so.”
I gave him a look of disgust.
“You’re not a cop and I don’t have to answer your questions.”
“No, Mr. Proctor, you don’t, but if you don’t, the police are prone to jump to all sorts of conclusions when they fingerprint Frannie’s room and find your prints all over it.” Folding my arms and looking as immovable as I really was, I asked my question again with the simple imperial lift of an eyebrow. “There’s also the question of the photographs.”
He put his head in his hands, possibly reacting naturally for the first time all night. “I was at the Shanghai Palace after nine, you can ask the bartender, Frank’s his name.”
“Dinner?”
“At Carmody’s.”
“Carmody’s, at Grant and Green?” I didn’t say where Frannie’s body turned up, so it was more than curious he admitted to having dinner right across the street.
“Yes. I left sometime around eight. I think it was eight. Then, I headed up to Frannie’s place and sneaked in. I figured she was out. Irenie usually is too. So, I got in.”
“Easy enough. You knew where her room was.”
“I’ve been there only once.”
Eyebrow up.
“Okay, Miss Tanner, more than once.”
“And Irenie Coventry didn’t catch you and Frannie during your visits?”
“Who do you think set us up?”
Proctor was twice Frannie’s age and already piling up the corpses of dead relationships. My impression of him dropped even further — if that was possible. “So, you went to her room around when?”
“Eight fifteen? Maybe earlier. I don’t remember. I never made it to Frannie’s room. Irenie’s ex showed up. I heard him come in and I didn’t stay around.”
“Why did you think you could go into Frannie’s room without Irenie catching you? How did you know they would both be out? I doubt Irenie would give you her schedule if there wasn’t something in it for her.”
He started fumbling with his cuff-links. “I just knew.”
“The cops are gonna’ fry you.” I started to leave.
“No. Irenie keeps a fairly regular social schedule. I knew she’d be out. You have to know Irenie. She’s a gold digger with ambition. She practically sold her daughter to me. Except —”
“Except what, Mr. Proctor?”
“Frannie and I liked each other. Frannie, she wasn’t so bad. Irenie didn’t have to push her on me, like she did with the others.”
My stomach knotted, and my heart pounded its way up to my throat. I had a heater and wanted to use it so bad. So very bad. “Others?”
He messed up his perfect hair, running his fingers through the grease. “It wasn’t all Irenie. Frannie knew there was money in it too. Through me and the others, she got access to people who wouldn’t give her another glance otherwise.”
“You gave her access in addition to money. Let me see if I got this; once you two parted as friends, she still asked for money? So, you made some introductions to get the payments lowered?”
He nodded. “Sort of. It was more of a favor at that point.”
“Anyone dangerous?”
He paled and nodded again.
“Like Willkie Valentini?” I had no patience for his stalling. “A known killer, and you handed Frannie over to him! Some friend.”
Proctor held up his hands. “No. It wasn’t like that.”
“You better tell me what it was like or I can’t help you with the police.”
“You’ll help me?”
“I might. Then again, if you killed Frannie, I promise to throw the switch myself.”
“Okay, okay.” He pulled a cigarette case out and offered me one. I refused it. I refused a cigarette. I was too livid. But that one voice hiding in the back of my head was a little proud at the moment.
“You were saying, Mr. Proctor?”
Letting out a long, smoky breath, he paced and talked, the gripped cigarette between his fingers, using it to punctuate every word. “Frannie had something bigger going. Something she was cutting her mother out of. I gave her one last cheque. It wasn’t filled out or signed. It was, I dunno’, a promissory note? Irenie would think I was still paying or prepared to and wouldn’t ask Frannie questions. Besides, I didn’t want Frannie coming back after her big plan fell through, all piss and vinegar, ready to take it out on anyone who abandoned her. Frannie was queer about abandonment. You know what? She wouldn’t take it at first. It was free cash for her, and she didn’t want it.”
“Have I got this straight? She really was into something big. She still accepted your cheque only as a means to keep Irenie from pressuring her to keep blackmailing you?”
He drew long and heavy on the cigarette. I felt a longing, then pushed it out of my head. “Miss Tanner, this sounds absurd ...”
I tried not to laugh. Absurd, at this moment, would take on a whole new definition.
“... but I had to talk her into keeping it. Whatever she was into was risky. She said so. But if it worked, she wouldn’t have to deal with me, her mother, her stepdad, any of the other guys. None of us. After that, it wasn’t hard to convince her to keep it for protection. She needed everything she lay her hands on.”
Christ! Who was she working over who would give her so much power? A car pulled up near the closed door, then backed away. Vehicles coming and going was normal. Seagulls squawked and cried outside. Proctor had practically smoked the cigarette up to his fingers.
“Did you see anything when you were at Carmody’s on Green?”
“Knew you would ask. Yeah. I saw. I saw plenty. Why should I tell you anything?”
“Look, you miserable ...” I pulled out my heater and pointed it straight at his left eye. I took a deep breath, which wasn’t easy or pleasant with the cloud of tobacco smoke Proctor left in the air. “Frannie’s dead. I don’t know what she was into, but I don’t like dead people turning up where I should have been finding a live kid. She was a kid — you know, right? You, an adult, were diddling a child. Were you the photographer of a bunch of pornographic shots? That’s illegal too.”
“Okay, I took some photos, but she was always clothed. Nothing really pornographic. As for Frannie being a kid? Maybe in years, but you didn’t know Frannie. She was more like an adult than you’d expect.” His voice trembled. I was shaking him up good. His stare never moved from the muzzle of my rod.
“Ever hear of statutory rape? Solicitation? And, you were near the scene of the crime — are you getting the big picture yet?”
Nope he wasn’t. He was there, wide-eyed and fish-mouthed.
“Let me add up your score: you did some nasty things with an underage girl, she blackmailed you, and you killed her. You’ve admitted to being near the scene of the crime. You’re strong enough to have overwhelmed her and strangled her. You’re the strongest suspect around.”
Proctor began shaking a little. “Look, back then, Frannie was, how should I say this? Interested. She wanted me. It’s not like I molested her against her will. She wanted it.”
“Think any cops will weep if I plug you?”
When I made sure it looked like I’d pull the trigger, he cowered and held up his hands protectively. “I wasn’t the only one near where they found Frannie!”
“Spill it or I spill blood.”
“Can I have another cigarette?”
“No. Talk!”
He tried to stop shaking. Didn’t work. “You’re not gonna' like what I have to say.”
“I already don’t like your stalling. And I definitely don’t like you!”
“At Carmody’s, there was a whole bunch of people. I’m not narrowing it down like you think I am.”
A shadow moved across the window behind him. Someone on their way to the Baths?
“Irenie was on Green Street. And I laid eyes on Elliott Lockwood too, coming out of the 500 G’s — Valentini’s place on Grant. Most of the time, I wouldn’t care, but I don’t like Lockwood’s connections, what with gangsters and the military.”
My breath caught.
Proctor kept going without my prodding. “And another guy.”
God, who hadn’t been there? “Who?”
“Big guy. Ugly hat. One of those narrow-brimmed things that are cheap or foreign. He seemed more interested in Irenie, though. But, I tell you what, if I didn’t know better, I would swear he was —”
The window exploded, glass and bullets flying.