Night, Friday, September 12, 1947
True to my word to the chief to be budget conscious, I parked on the street three blocks from the hotel rather than use the valet, even though a light rain had started falling and the wind had picked up off the lake.
We left my car at the curb and walked briskly up the sidewalk side by side.
“Gee, Heath, I would have paid for the valet,” Alan said as he pulled his suit coat tighter about him and his hat down lower on his head. “And we’re already late.”
“Because you took almost an hour to get your laundry, clean up, and shave.”
“Sorry, but I wanted to look my best.”
“Your worst is most people’s best, my friend. Besides, it’s just a little rain, and the wind’s not too bad,” I said. “It’s rather invigorating.”
But I was glad when we reached the main entrance on Wells Street at half past eight. We were both damp and chilled, and it felt good to get indoors. The doorman informed us the reception was on the second floor, in the Braun Room. We took the stairs up and walked down the corridor to the coat check, where a pretty young girl who must have been all of eighteen or nineteen smiled at us. “Good evening, gentlemen. May I check your hats?”
“Yes, please,” I said, handing mine to her as Alan did the same. “How much?”
“It’s complimentary, sir,” she replied, but I noticed she nodded ever so subtly to a tip jar off to the side.
“Don’t worry, I can take care of the tip,” Alan said. He pulled two dimes from his pocket and dropped them in the jar.
“Gee, thanks,” she said, handing us our claim tickets. “Are you here for the reception?”
“That’s right, for the All-Seeing Almanzo,” I said.
“Just down the hall on the right, through the double doors.”
“Thank you, miss,” Alan said.
“My pleasure. You, uh, didn’t bring your wife?” she said, looking rather dreamily at Alan.
“No, miss. I’m not married.”
“Steady girl?”
Alan shook his head. “Not at the moment.”
Her smile got bigger. “Gee, that’s swell! I mean, I see. The reception ends at ten, and I get off duty at ten thirty.”
“Well, be careful going home tonight, it’s raining and rather windy out. The temperature’s dropped a fair amount,” Alan said.
She made a pouty face I supposed some men found adorable. “Yes, I noticed your hats were rather wet. This weather’s going to mess my hair and my new shoes. I take the streetcar, you know. I’ll get soaking wet unless someone would be kind enough to drive me. I don’t live all that far.”
“I’m afraid we likely won’t be staying until the end of the reception,” I said. “But I hope you get home safely.”
She glanced briefly at me and then back at Alan. “Oh, that’s too bad. I’m here most weekends if you’re ever in the neighborhood. My name’s Sally. Miss Sally Pfluger.”
“How do you do? I’m Alan Keyes.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Pfluger, but I’m afraid we must go now,” I said, taking Alan by the elbow and guiding him away and down the hall.
“Good night,” Alan said over his shoulder.
“See you later, Mr. Keyes.”
As soon as we were out of Sally’s earshot I said to him, “You, my friend, have the curse of being too good looking.”
“Aw, she was just being friendly and hoping for a ride home since it’s raining and all.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” I glanced toward the double doors on our right as we approached. “Looks like this is the place.”
A bored-looking waiter with a tray of champagne glasses was standing just inside. “Good evening, gentlemen. Members of the press?”
“Yes, that’s right, WBSM radio,” I said as we showed him our press badges.
“Welcome,” he said. “The champagne is complimentary, courtesy of Mr. Firestone, but it’s a cash bar.”
“Thanks,” Alan said. We each took a glass from his tray, stepped in, and surveyed the small meeting room.
“Sparsely attended,” I said, looking around. “Can’t be more than fifteen or twenty people here at most.”
“Yeah, not exactly the crowd I was expecting. But it’s early yet. It just started half an hour ago.”
“Still, it’s just for members of the press and local dignitaries. It’s not like it’s open to all of his fans. That would certainly be a sight to see, I’m sure.”
Alan gave me a disapproving look. “What kind of crowd do you think that would be? Kooks and weirdos? Dim-witted blokes and loony ladies? Spiritualism is real, Heath. Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean it’s fake, and it doesn’t mean that everyone who believes in it is off center.”
“You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. But you must admit a lot of people involved in this spiritualism gig take advantage. And they use that advantage to make money at other people’s expense.”
“I suppose that’s true. But even if Almanzo is making money off people, even if he is fraudulent, that doesn’t mean all of spiritualism is a hoax.”
“Okay, I apologize, you’re right again. Let’s just see how the evening progresses. Come on, we need to find the All-Seeing Almanzo.”
We mixed and mingled a bit, moving amongst the reporters and photographers in attendance, along with a few aldermen and members of the city council who most likely only came for the free champagne. Fortunately, I didn’t recognize anyone who could blow our cover.
“There he is. Over there by the bar,” Alan said. “The attractive, dark-haired one in the black suit and green tie. He looks just like his picture on the back of his book, right down to that eye thingy.”
“A monocle,” I said, finishing my watered-down champagne. “I think it’s time for a refill.”
“I’ll follow you, Heath, but no more champagne for me. That stuff goes right to my head.”
“It’s mostly water, I think, but okay. Want a soda pop or something?”
“No, thanks, I’m fine for now.”
“All right.”
We wandered over to the bar, and I ordered another champagne while managing to maneuver close to our target. With my fresh glass in hand, I bumped into him ever so gently, causing him to spill a little bit of the drink he was holding.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said.
Almanzo turned and glared at me, wiping a few drops of liquid off the sleeve of his suit coat. “Really, do be careful, sir. This is an expensive suit, tailor made.” He looked me up and down. “Not all of us wear off the rack, you know.”
“I apologize. I’m terribly sorry. You’re the All-Seeing Almanzo, aren’t you? Gosh, when we came here tonight, I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you,” I said, trying to feign as much enthusiasm as I could.
“Yes, well, you got your wish, then, didn’t you? Are you a member of the press or a city official?”
“Press, sir. WBSM radio—all the hits, all the time, so don’t touch that dial. That’s our slogan, you know,” I said.
“How droll.”
“Yes, well, our advertising department thinks it’s quite catchy.”
“So is a cold. How did you get assigned to cover my reception?”
“I volunteered, sir. I think you’re really something. May I buy you a drink to make up for my clumsiness?”
“You may, at the very least. Glenfiddich, not the schlock they serve the masses,” he said, depositing his now empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray.
“Right.” I knew a glass of Glenfiddich in a place like this would run me at least ninety-five cents plus tip, but it couldn’t be helped. Hopefully, the chief would understand when I turned in my expense report. I moved down the bar and got the bartender’s attention.
“One Glenfiddich, please,” I said. “For Mr. Firestone.”
The bartender, a handsome lad, looked mildly surprised. “Mr. Firestone’s been drinking rail scotch all night.”
I sighed. “Well, since I’m paying for this one, I guess he wants the good stuff.”
“Your money, mister. Neat or on the rocks?”
“How has he been drinking his others?”
“On the rocks.”
“Then make it that way, I guess.”
“Yes, sir, coming right up.” He moved away from me, and I made my way back to Mr. Firestone while I waited. The All-Seeing Almanzo was staring intently at Alan.
“By the way, Mr. Firestone, I’m Heath Barrington, and this is my friend, Alan Keyes. He’s an even bigger fan of yours than I am,” I said.
“Admirer, Heath,” Alan said. “And yes, sir, I am.”
“Oh, how lovely. At least you have a few redeeming qualities, Mr. Barrington. You two are friends, you say?”
“Yes, we work together, at the radio station. I gave Alan a lift here since he doesn’t have a car.”
“I see. Married?”
“No, sir. We’re both single,” Alan said, “though Heath has a girl he’s been seeing.”
“But not you, dear boy?”
“No, sir. Not yet, anyway.”
“Interesting. You’re reporters, then?” Firestone said. “I don’t see any cameras.”
“Well, we are in radio, you see,” I said with a smile as I handed him one of the business cards Miss Blake had given me.
He put it in his pocket without looking at it. “They say television is the wave of the future. That radio is dying, on its way out.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that, Mr. Firestone. I’ve heard television is just a passing fancy.”
“If you did bet on that, Mr. Barrington, you’d lose. Television is here to stay.”
“You would know, I suppose. Isn’t that your business, seeing into the future and all that?”
“I’m more into the past, the spirit world and such, though there are ways and methods of divining the future, of course, and I have been known to delve into that on occasion.”
“Fascinating. And what do you see when you do divine the future?” I said.
“It’s often cloudy, but right now I see that my drink is nearly ready,” he said, looking over my shoulder at the bar.
“Oh, right. Excuse me.” I paid for his drink along with a modest tip for the bartender. “Here’s your scotch, Mr. Firestone,” I said. “Glenfiddich, just like you asked for.”
He glanced at the glass and waved it away. “Ice? Why are there ice cubes in Glenfiddich? That’s an insult to the whiskey. I put up with it in the rail scotch they serve because that stuff is almost undrinkable otherwise, but Glenfiddich requires two drops of water, no more. Have them remake it.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I looked at the two lonely ice cubes floating in the liquid. “Sorry,” I said. “My mistake.” I turned back to the bar and motioned for the bartender again. This was going to require another tip, probably not so modest.
“So, you’re an admirer of mine, Mr. Keyes? How lovely. In addition to working for the radio station, you follow spiritualism?” I heard Firestone say over my shoulder.
“Yes, sir. I even read your book.”
“Really? How delightful. I’d be happy to autograph it for you if you want to bring it by later.”
“Gee, that would be nice, but I got it from the library.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. But do tell, what was your favorite part?”
“Oh gosh, it’s hard to pick just one, Mr. Firestone. Your chapter on myomancy was quite fascinating, though. I happened upon two mice just this evening, as a matter of fact, in the basement of my friend’s building. I released them into the wild, but they were quite frantic.”
“To the untrained, the noises and movements of mice and rats are meaningless, but to one who knows, such as I, they can predict deep, dark things.”
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s all very interesting,” Alan said sincerely. “I wish you’d been there to see and study them.”
“So do I.”
“Also your chapter on stercomancy was so fascinating. Who knew one could divine the future by studying seeds in bird excrement?”
I turned and handed Almanzo his new drink. “Here you are, Mr. Firestone, Glenfiddich with two drops of water, no ice.”
“Good. Ice dilutes the high-quality scotch, you know,” he said, never taking his eyes off Alan. “But the water droplets open up the flavor just enough. So, always two drops but no more.”
“You’re welcome,” I said dryly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Did I hear you say something about divining the future by studying seeds in bird excrement?”
He looked at me briefly. “It’s called stercomancy. It’s not something I study regularly, but it can be useful in certain situations.”
“I can’t even imagine what those situations may be.”
“I’m sure you can’t. You look rather dull.” He turned back to look at Alan again. “Your friend here has an aura about him, did you know that, Mr. Bennett?”
“Barrington. And yes, I’ve often thought so.”
“He does. I can see it, I can feel it,” he said, looking Alan up and down now, from head to toe.
“Really?” Alan said.
“Yes, dear boy. Quite so.” He looked back at me for just a moment. “Here, hold my drink.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he handed me back his glass. I held his in my left hand and my own in my right as I wondered what he was going to do next. He removed his monocle, letting it dangle from a gold chain attached to his suit coat, and turned back to Alan.
“Now then,” he said, putting both of his hands on Alan’s temples and closing his own eyes. “Let me see. Hmm. Oh, interesting, very interesting.”
“What?” Alan said.
“Shh,” he said, placing an index finger on Alan’s lips. “I must concentrate.” He moved his hands down Alan’s face, onto his neck and then to his shoulders where he stopped, moving his hands in deep, circular motions, his eyes still closed. Alan looked a tad uncomfortable.
“Relax, Mr. Keyes. Calm yourself, take deep breaths.” He took his hands off Alan’s shoulders and moved them slowly down his arms, squeezing here and there. “My, my, you’re quite strong, aren’t you?”
“Um, I guess so, sir,” Alan said. I could tell he was embarrassed as people around us stopped to watch and see what was going on.
“Please, call me Almanzo.” Firestone opened his eyes and removed his hands from Alan’s body, somewhat reluctantly it seemed to me. He put his monocle back into place and chewed thoughtfully at the back of his left thumb. “There’s definitely something special about you. Mm, yes, indeed. Have you ever had your fortune told? Your past lives investigated?”
“Golly, I didn’t know I even had any past lives.”
“But you have, I can sense it. I should like to do a private session with you—complimentary, of course—to delve into the depths of your soul.”
“A private session? Complimentary? Gee whiz, Mr. Firestone, that would be swell. That’s awfully nice of you.”
“Almanzo, please, and yes, I think so, too. That it would be swell, I mean.” His smile was now rather lustful, his voice low. “The power of the body can tell us much. Unclothed, naked, raw, and exposed.”
“Naked and exposed?” Alan said, his face turning an interesting shade of red.
“Yes, of course. Baring your soul is the only way to divine the truth, you see. All completely natural, without inhibitions and restrictions.”
“How about you divine me, Mr. Firestone?” I said, interrupting his flow.
“What? You?” he said, turning once more to me. “You don’t seem very interesting, as I said before.”
“I suppose I’m not, but it’s just that my Uncle Horace suddenly passed away, and it’s been most distressing. We were quite close. One of the reasons I volunteered to cover your reception is because I was hoping to speak with you about it.”
“Hm, sudden death, you say?”
“Yes, a heart attack. Just last week.”
“My, my. I suppose we may be able to contact your uncle, at least briefly.”
“Gee, that would be wonderful.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Of course my research into the spirit world is ongoing and requires an extensive amount of time and money, but let’s see what we can do. I believe I have an opening on Sunday afternoon, after my matinee performance. Two dollars, in the sitting room of my suite.”
“Okay, sign me up. My uncle was fairly wealthy, and I’m supposed to inherit a hefty sum, but it doesn’t make up for losing him, of course. It would be a wonderous thing indeed if I could speak to him one last time.”
“Inherit a hefty sum, you say? You’re more interesting than you first appeared, I must admit,” Mr. Firestone said.
“Um, thanks. Will you be conducting a séance, then?”
“Hm, no. I think I shall be using my crystal balls with you.”
“Balls? You use more than one?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely. One to see into the past, one to divine the future, and one to contact the departed. They travel with me everywhere, in a special case. Of course, my balls aren’t useful in every situation. I may hold a séance with you, perhaps, in the future, on a return trip, provided I have enough funding. As I mentioned, my research is extensive and expensive.”
“I’m sure it is, Mr. Firestone. If my uncle’s inheritance is substantial enough, maybe I can assist with that.”
His eyebrows went up a tad. “Oh, my, that would be most generous of you. Are you attending one of my public demonstrations as well?”
“Yes, the Sunday matinee. Mr. Keyes and I will both be there.”
“Oh good, there’s a bright spot. Now then, Alan, you don’t mind if I call you by your given name, do you? What about a private session for you? As I said, completely complimentary. I could squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon before the evening performance. My wife will most likely be in our suite at that time, come to think of it. Perhaps I could arrange a small, private room here at the hotel instead, for just the two of us.”
“Your wife?” I said, surprised.
He flicked his left hand dismissively. “Yes, Muriel. She’s around here somewhere, or maybe she’s gone up to the suite. She hates these events,” Firestone said, never taking his eyes off Alan. “Now then, Alan, about that private session for tomorrow…”
“Golly, Mr. Firestone…”
“Almanzo, please.”
“Almanzo. I’m terribly flattered. I uh, think that would be really interesting, but I’m afraid I’m busy tomorrow afternoon and evening. I’m going to the opera.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. You don’t look like the opera type.”
“Well, I’m going with Heath, here, as his guest.”
“I see. Well, how about sometime on Sunday, then? We leave town on Monday, so it will have to be soon.”
“Gee, uh, I don’t think so, I’m sorry. But I am looking forward to the matinee performance on Sunday, and all.”
I cleared my throat. “As am I, and our private session afterward, Mr. Firestone. I assume we’ll be keeping our clothes on for that.”
He looked at me again, annoyed. “You assume correctly, Mr. Barrett.”
“Barrington.”
“Bennett, Barrett, Barrington, whatever. Your session will be three dollars in advance, payable just before we begin.”
“You said before it was two dollars.”
“Did I? Oh well, inflation, you know. Bring something that belonged to your uncle, if you can. An article of clothing, a pipe, something like that. I find it helps. Oh, and a photograph of him, as recent as possible. Now, I must go mingle. I promised a newspaper reporter a brief interview. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course. Here’s your drink back,” I said. “I’ll see you Sunday after the show.”
“Performance. A demonstration of my abilities, not a show.” He took the glass and downed a good portion of it as he stared at Alan once more. “Bring your friend here along. Perhaps if you do, I can offer you a discount and a signed copy of my book.”
“I’m sure,” I said.
“So am I. Inquire at the front desk after the performance. They’ll announce you,” Firestone said, and then he turned and walked away.
“Well, he was sure something,” Alan said.
“Yes he was. And he certainly liked you.”
“It was embarrassing. I mean, talking about being naked, raw and exposed, and all that. It made me kinda uncomfortable.”
“It made me kind of uncomfortable, too. I wonder what his wife thinks of all that.”
“Yeah, gee.”
“Want to stick around for a while yet?” I said.
“No, I think I’m ready to go. I’m a bit tired.”
“Okay, I’ll drive you home. I believe we’re done here, anyway.”
We retrieved our hats from the hat check girl, who flirted with Alan once more and tucked her home telephone number inside his hatband.
Downstairs in the lobby, we could see that the rain had increased to a downpour.
“Let me go get the car while you wait here,” I said.
“I can walk with you, Heath, I don’t mind.”
“Naw, you stay inside where it’s warm and dry. It was my idea to park a couple blocks away. I’ll pull up. Back in a flash.”
I dashed out into the rain and hurried to my car, wishing I’d brought my rubber overshoes and umbrella. Alan was standing beneath the awning as I pulled up to the hotel just a few minutes later.
“Going my way, mister?” he said, looking in at me with a goofy grin as he opened the passenger door of my car.
“Always, sailor,” I said. “And all the way.”
He climbed in. I put the car in gear, turned the windshield wipers on high, and drove off.
“Thanks for getting the car, Heath. Looks like you got pretty wet.”
“I’ll dry. And it’s the least I could do for a handsome bloke like you. Sally’s going to be awfully disappointed when you don’t call her, you know,” I said.
“The hat check girl? I do feel kinda sorry for her. It’s really raining hard now.”
“I have a feeling she’ll find some eligible bachelor to take her home tonight.”
“I suppose so.”
“And if not, I noticed an umbrella and a lady’s raincoat tucked in the corner of the coat check room next to what looked like her handbag and hat.”
“Oh, that’s good. I’m glad she’s prepared, and I’m glad I’ve got a handsome eligible bachelor taking me home tonight,” Alan said.
I smiled then, glancing over at him briefly. “Sweet talker. No wonder everyone finds you so irresistible.”