The Book of Esther
Chapter 8Stu returned to the Carthay Hotel right around six o'clock and sent Roscoe home. The racetrack tout looked dazed and didn't hang around long enough for Bailey to ask, "Why?"
Esther had the TV on and was watching the news. "Anything exciting happening?" Stu wondered out loud.
"No, not a thing. There was nothing else on TV and Roscoe finally quit talking." This last part of her remark was accompanied by a loud sigh.
Stuart had to laugh. Many was the time he or Jeff had expressed some similar thought about Roscoe and his relentless ability to keep chattering. "Did he explain anything besides horses and horse racing?"
"Yeah, I got a complete education about dogs and dog racing, too." Esther rose from the couch and walked to where Stu was leaning against the kitchen counter; she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was startled but didn't resist.
When she pulled away from him Stu chuckled slightly. "Did Roscoe bore you that badly?"
"Nope. Not at all. I just thought it would feel good." Esther paused for a split second. "And it did."
Before Stu could say or do anything else there was a knock at the door. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Esther was a beautiful girl, and if she wasn't a client (actually a freebie, he reminded himself) he would be sorely tempted. But she was, after a fashion, and he didn't need any complications in his life right now. He was relieved to see Gil standing in front of him. "Come in, Lieutenant." Saved by the knock, Stuart smiled to himself.
"How's everything going?" Gil asked, seeing the slight pink on Stu's face. Gil had to admit to being a bit startled – he couldn't remember ever seeing Stuart Bailey blushing. Jeff Spencer maybe, but not Stu. What had he interrupted?
"Quiet since you spoke to Jeff. I found out some things your detectives didn't. Are you off duty?"
"Supposed to be. Why?"
Stu went to the kitchen and poured Gil a scotch, then decided that wasn't a bad idea. He took the drinks back to the living room, set them on the table, and turned to Esther. "Coke or coke and vodka?"
"Coke," she replied. "I'll get it. You two talk."
"Is that . . . ?" Gil asked, staring longingly at the glass.
"It certainly is," Stu nodded his head. "Did you pick up Tomlin?"
"Yeah, found him trying to sell the car in Inglewood. He was surprised to see me."
"I bet he was," Stu answered. "The insurance company will be glad to get it back."
Gil finally took a sip from his glass. "Ah . . . damn, that's good."
Esther returned with her Coke. "What have I missed, being here all day with Roscoe?"
"Bits and pieces. I had another phone call from Tim Simpson. He's still looking for you," Stu explained as he sipped his own scotch. He watched Esther closely – she didn't seem disturbed by the news. Or surprised by it. "Did Artie ever mention him?"
The blonde shook her head. "No, but he told me somebody kept phoning him. Wouldn't tell me why, but he did say it was a nuisance. Artie owed a lot of people money, and not just about bills from the club. I don't know what that was about either, just that there were always strange types coming around."
"Anybody you recognized?" Gil asked.
"You mean besides Harley? No."
The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, each one thinking. Esther had turned the TV off and it was inordinately quiet in the room. Stu got up to get the bottle of scotch and was on his way back with it when someone knocked at the door. The Private Investigator pulled his gun and set the bottle back down. "Yes?" he called.
"It's Jeff," came the voice. "I've got food, let me in."
Stu lowered his gun, walking to the door and opening it a crack. "What's the secret password?" he quizzed.
"Let me in or I'll drop your dinner all over the ground," was the response.
"Good enough for me," and Jeff shoved one of the two bags he carried into his partner's arms.
"Isn't anybody in here hungry?"
"Starving," Esther spoke up.
"Well, I should go," Gil stood.
"Sit down, I brought enough for everyone. Ellen wouldn't know you if you went home now, anyway."
Esther started to open the bag. "What's in here?"
"The finest corned beef sandwiches money can buy, along with French fries, ketchup and Mayonnaise. Oh, and pickles. They're all the same, so just grab one and dig in."
"You want something to drink, Jeff?" Esther inquired.
"Look in that second bag, Esther. There's another six-pack of Coke. I'll have one of those. "
"No scotch?" Stu asked.
"No, not tonight."
When everyone was finished eating, Stu explained what he'd discovered about Tim Simpson and the firm of Anderson, Simpson and Blaine. He scrupulously omitted the threats, veiled and not so veiled, that Simpson made against him. "Do you think he was the one calling Artie all the time?" Esther wondered.
"He could have been," Gil answered her. "Or he could have had Artie killed, thinking you would be an easier target to convince it was time to sell."
"Or he might have decided to go into business for himself." That thought had crossed Stu's mind earlier in the day, when he'd discovered that Simpson appeared to have more than just a peripheral interest. "The firm's in pretty deep financial trouble, after all."
"Or he might just be a hired gun for Kline.," Jeff suggested.
The three men batted ideas back and forth for a few minutes before Gil checked his watch. "I better go. I promised Ellen I'd try to get home early."
"You show up too early and Ellen will call the police and report a prowler." Jeff accompanied the remark with a smirk, before turning to Esther. "Ellen is Mrs. Gilmore, and why she puts up with this character I have no idea."
"She has excellent taste," was Gil's comeback as he rose from the couch. "Thanks for the drink, Stu. Enjoying one of those is a rarity in my job. Who's in the office tomorrow and who's here?"
"I'm here and Stu's at the office. After he goes home and makes himself pretty."
The Lieutenant laughed before turning to Stu. "Now you know why I don't have a partner."
"There are days I'd gladly give you mine." Stuart walked the Lieutenant to the door and checked outside before letting Gilmore leave. "Goodnight, Gil."
Jeff and Esther had picked up the living room and were doing something in the kitchen when Stu turned the TV on and sat on the couch. "What are you two up to out there?" he called out.
"Thought you might like some of this before it's time to call it a night," Jeff explained as he came back to the front room with a glass in each hand. They both contained a golden-color liquid that Stu could identify before ever smelling or tasting it. Esther followed holding a glass of her own.
"You sneak that in or was it in the bag?" his partner asked as he accepted the brandy.
Esther answered for Jeff. "It was in with the Coke, in the bag he handed to me."
"Now you know why I passed on the scotch. This will taste a whole lot better."
"To my temporary roommates," Stu lifted his glass high and the other two occupants of the hotel room did the same.
"To us," Esther agreed, laughing. For the moment, at least, she'd chosen to forget why they were all there.
"Lechaim," added Jeff. "To life."
And they all drank their brandy, temporarily enjoying the peace and camaraderie.