Afternoon, Friday, September 12, 1947
She glared up at me as I approached. If looks could kill, I’d be on a slab in the morgue. “Good afternoon, Miss Blake,” I said cheerfully. The police chief’s secretary was at her desk, going through some old case files. She was in her early to mid-thirties and wore her long, dark hair pulled back and up most of the time. She rarely smiled, at least not at me. I never could figure out why. I sometimes flattered myself by thinking maybe it was because we were both single, yet I’d never asked her out on a date in the three years she worked there. Or maybe she’d heard rumors about me, or maybe I just rubbed her the wrong way for one reason or another. Still, I continued to be friendly.
“He’s expecting you.”
“Yes, I know. You called me at my desk, remember?” I said, giving her one of my best smiles.
“Are you attempting to be funny?”
“No, just lightening the mood. Or trying to. I hope everything’s hunky-dory.”
“Hunky and dory, I’m sure, Detective Barrington.”
“Plans for the weekend?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m working both days for a few hours. The chief wants to catch up on a few things.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. About you having to work, I mean.”
“I’m sure it breaks your heart. Your boss is waiting,” she said, staring up at me, her eyes narrow and her red lips pursed.
I sighed. “Right, see you in the funny papers.” I walked past her into the chief’s small, cluttered office, closing the door behind me.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I did, Barrington. Have a seat.” He was sucking on an unlit cigarette as he sat at his desk, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.
I pulled up a chair and sat down across from him, careful of the crease in my trousers.
“You’re not working on anything at the moment, are you?” he said.
“No, I finished up that Martinelli case last week. Why?”
“Because the All-Seeing Almanzo is here in town this weekend. Ever hear of him?”
“Yes, actually. Almanzo Firestone, the spiritualist. I read in the newspaper a couple months ago that he was coming to Milwaukee. I have tickets to his show on Sunday afternoon. A friend of mine is a fan.”
The chief’s bushy caterpillar eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Firestone has lots of fans. Or lots of suckers who believe in all that stuff and are willing to pay good money to see him. Frankly, I thought all that spiritualism crap died out in the twenties and thirties.”
“Well, this friend of mine is really a believer. There’s a few of them still around.”
“Apparently. You’re a pretty cynical police detective, Barrington. I didn’t think a man like you would be into all that hocus-pocus, crystal ball hooey.”
“I try to be open-minded, but I’m mainly just going for support. Because of my friend.”
“A friend, eh?” The chief leaned back into his chair and broke out in a grin, the unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. “Oh, I think I see what you’re up to. Your friend is a female, isn’t she? Must be this Ellen I’ve heard the fellows talk about, and you’re trying to butter her bread, so to speak, by attending something she wants to see even if you have no interest.”
“Well, uh, no, not exactly, Chief. Not this time, anyway. I’m just doing a buddy a favor, is all. He doesn’t have a car, and he lives on the other side of town. He’d have to take a bus and transfer to a streetcar just to get to the theater if I didn’t drive him.” I didn’t really want to have to explain to the chief that my friend was police officer Alan Keyes, and I certainly couldn’t tell him Alan was my boyfriend. Not if I wanted to keep my job, and Alan’s, too.
“Oh. Nice of you to help a buddy out like that, I suppose.”
“He’s done a few favors for me,” I said, which was true enough. “And I figure the show might be entertaining.”
“Good for a laugh or two, anyway. Well, this Almanzo character is hosting a reception tonight at the Blatz Hotel for members of the press and local dignitaries, trying to drum up some publicity, I imagine, and I want you there.”
“At the reception? What for, Chief?”
“Reports have come over the wire from the Gary and Kansas City police departments, the last two cities he toured. Complaints about possible fraud. Typical stuff for these spiritualist types. Besides the Sunday matinee you and your buddy are attending, this All-Seeing fellow is also putting on a performance tomorrow evening, and I want to know if the complaints are justified before he skips town Monday morning.”
“Most likely they are.”
The chief leaned forward again and rested his hairy forearms on the paper-covered desk. “Most likely.”
“Yes, but it’s my understanding the victims in these types of cases don’t typically complain,” I said. “They get to talk to their dear departed, or they believe they do, they pay their money, and they go away happy. I’m surprised this Almanzo has gotten complaints.”
“He must not be as convincing as some of the other shysters. The complaints were mostly from people who felt he wasn’t on the level. That’s why I want you at this reception. Get up close to him undercover and feel him out. I want you to arrange for a private performance with him before he leaves town, too.”
“Private performance? In what way?”
“You know, a séance, a palm reading, card reading, whatever it is he does to bilk people out of their hard-earned money. Apparently he sets up these private performances with suckers before and after his public shows. See if you can catch him in the act when it’s just you and him.”
“Sure, I see. Pretend I’m a follower.”
“That’s right. You’ll be posing as a member of the press at the reception, but I also want you to convince him you’re a believer. Maybe your friend can give you some tips. Might be smart to take him along tonight if he’s really that big a spiritualism fan.”
“He is, and I’m sure he’d like that.”
“Good. Just be discreet. Don’t tip your hand. You’ll be a reporter from WBSM radio. See Miss Blake for your credentials and phony business cards. I had to pull a few strings to get a couple of invites to the reception. I was thinking it would be you and a date, but if this friend of yours is really into all this ghost stuff, that might be better.”
“I’ll call him right away. I’m pretty certain he’s free tonight.”
“Okay. Ask Miss Blake for additional credentials for your friend, then, though if he’s with you he may not need them. There wasn’t time to put your name on the phony business cards, so you can both use them. The reception starts at eight.”
“Right, I’ll be there. We’ll both be there.”
“Good. Go easy on the booze at this thing, though. I want you sharp and alert. And don’t forget to turn in your expenses, but don’t go overboard, either. Spelling turned in an expense report last month for valet parking, champagne cocktails, and a steak dinner at the Circus Room in the Hotel Wisconsin when he was investigating a smuggling ring. I put him on a simple vandalism case and a strict budget this month.”
“I’ll be thrifty, don’t worry.”
“Glad to hear it. Keep me posted, Barrington. I expect a full report,” he said, spitting out the wet cigarette into the wastebasket and taking another from the silver case on his desk.
“I will, of course. Still trying to quit smoking?”
He sighed heavily and stared at the unlit cigarette, turning it over and over in his fingers. “Yes. The things we do for our womenfolk.”
“Yeah, but I guess they’re worth it.”
“Some are. Speaking of that, this Ellen I’ve heard the guys talk about, she’s someone you’re dating, is that right?”
I swallowed a couple of times. “Uh, yeah, nothing serious, though. Just a nice girl.” I had made up Ellen to take suspicion off me and Alan, but the lie seemed to be growing bigger.
“Still, I’m glad to hear it. Bring her by the station sometime. I’d like to meet her. I’ll talk you up, help you butter her bread and get in good with her.”
“Sure, Chief, will do, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You know, the wife and I sometimes have the detectives and their wives or girlfriends over for dinner to the house. If you and this Ellen hit it off, you could be included.”
“That would be nice. I’ll let you know how things work out.”
“Do that. And you’re dismissed for now.”
“Yes, sir.” I left his office, got the credentials and fake business cards from Miss Blake, and telephoned Alan about the reception that evening. As I figured, he was delighted. I told him we could eat at my place beforehand to save time.