The Door Into Summer
Chapter 24He'd been planning for days, wanting to get every little detail right. Everything had to be perfect this time; he'd had only minimal success before. He'd given up the element of surprise, and he wanted – no, needed, to make sure this went off without a hitch. His very life might depend on it.
He was sure his plan would work. The private dicks were suckers for 'rescuing' damsels in distress, and he intended to make sure they believed the girl to require immediate help. It had been pleasant having someone around, especially in the evenings, but he'd lived the majority of his life alone and he had no problem remaining that way. After he got what he wanted out of her, he fully anticipated disposing of her. She could cause him nothing but trouble.
He planned to wait at least another week, maybe ten days, before he set the wheels in motion, to let things cool down for a while. He didn't want Spencer constantly looking over his shoulder, and it was his fault that was the case. If he'd been able to dispose of Bailey or Gilmore, it might be different, but his attempts failed. And in the past few days he'd heard rumblings . . . the dicks had somebody out looking for him. That forced his hand and he made a decision – he'd try tomorrow.
XXXXXXXX
On the morning of the third day Kookie had been chauffeuring Roscoe around they finally returned to the offices of Bailey and Spencer . . . which they found empty save for Suzanne. "Where are they, Frenchy?" Roscoe asked the receptionist.
"They went up to visit Lieutenant Gilmore. They said they'd be back around noon."
Roscoe turned to his chauffeur. "Anyplace I can sleep till they get back?"
Kookie nodded. "I'll park Jeff's car in the shade and you can sack out in the back seat."
"Are you going to work?" Suzanne asked.
"I think I better," the carhop answered. "I've missed enough work. I'll catch 'em when they come back in. Come on, Roscoe. Let's put you to bed."
It was closer to twelve-thirty when the red T-bird pulled into the driveway between the businesses. They saw Jeff's car parked in the back even as Kookie opened Stu's door. "Where's Roscoe?" Stuart asked.
"Asleep in the back seat," Kookie replied, chuckling as he did so. He suspected he knew the 'wake-up' call that Roscoe was about to get. For once he was wrong. The two private investigators were in no mood for high jinks, not after devoting all morning to Gil. The police Lieutenant was healing slowly – much slower than the doctors had hoped for, and still hadn't been able to start his rehab. After spending so much time that morning trying to keep Gil's spirits up they were in no mood for any of their normal kibitzing, not even with as perfect a target as Roscoe.
"Roscoe, get up," Jeff did his best to rouse their operative.
When there was no answer and no movement Stu wasn't nearly as gentle. He shook Roscoe by the shoulder. "Get up Roscoe, now. We need to talk."
"Huh? What? Oh, Stu. Sure, sure, I'm awake," and the tout scrambled out of the backseat of Jeff's car. "I'm comin'."
Stu and Jeff waited for Roscoe to walk with them, but there was not much talking between the three men as they headed for the office door. This was as unusual for the partners as rain in California, and Roscoe didn't know what to make of it. They went in the front door and picked up their messages, but an abrupt "Hello" from both men was all the conversation Suzanne got. They hustled Roscoe into Stu's office and shut the door.
"Bad morning?"
"Bad morning," Jeff echoed. It was the only answer Jeff was willing to give.
"Tell us you found the son-of-a-bitch," Stu spit out, injecting the sentence with all his pent-up frustration.
Roscoe shook his head. "The closest I could get was Louie the Weasel's claim that Daggett was somewhere in Orange County. Livin' in an apartment, he'd heard. Didn't know where or anything about Rachel. I hope that helps."
Stuart seemed to have regained control of his emotions, at least momentarily. His tone of voice was nowhere near as vitriolic. "Nothing else? Is he working? Is he robbing banks? What's he doing for money?"
"There's been a string of robberies in small bodegas and gas stations down there. Maybe that's how he's occupying his time," Jeff offered.
"Has anybody seen him, or did they have any kind of a description of him?" Stu finally sat back in his chair and pulled out his pipe. After studying it for a minute, he filled it with fresh tobacco and lit it.
"No. The hold-up man was wearing a mask every time. And the police got all sorts of height and weight guesses. But assuming Louie was correct, Daggett being in the OC would explain a lot." Jeff kept a watchful eye on Stu. Even though the senior partner knew the car explosion wasn't his fault, he still carried a lot of guilt around regarding its outcome. And the slowness of Gil's recovery didn't help matters any. Stu had been in a mood since leaving the hospital and Jeff needed to find a way to assuage the guilt that caused it. He turned to Roscoe for some clarification.
"How much of Orange County did you cover?"
"Everything but Anaheim. Kookie figured that was too far away from the ocean to suit Rachel. Assuming she's with him."
Stu looked up from his pipe. "Thanks, Roscoe."
The tout picked up his hat and left. Jeff sat in Stu's office and lit a cigarette, waiting for Stu to make the first move. It didn't take long. "I was a little hard on him, wasn't I?"
"You think?"
Stuart sighed. It wasn't always easy being a calm, rational partner, and his emotions had gotten the better of him today. Maybe he'd been working too hard. Maybe the last attack had been too personal. Whatever the reason, he needed to look at this with a keener eye. It was still the case of a missing teenager, and she still needed to be found.
He sighed again. His pipe had gone out and he set it in the ashtray, then got up from behind his desk and walked out to Suzanne. Jeff watched him from the doorway to his office. "Suzanne, I'm sorry I was so short with you when we came in. You didn't deserve that."
"It's all right, Stuart. I know how worried you've been about Lieutenant Gilmore."
"No, it's not alright. But I appreciate you saying that." When Stu remembered he'd left his pipe in the ashtray, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "I'll do my best not to take my frustrations out on you."
Suzanne gave him a big smile and he felt better. Jeff was still waiting in the doorway to his office, and both men sat back down. "Better?"
"Somewhat is the best answer I can give you." He stubbed out was left of his cigarette. "You need to watch your back, Jeff. Daggett promised to get all three of us and I was wrong about how dangerous he was capable of being. It's almost as if he heard my remarks and is doing his level best to prove me wrong. He seems to be escalating the violence and I'd like you to remain unscathed."
Jeff just grinned that everything-is-going-to-be-fine grin he had. "Yes, dad. I'll be careful. You got anything going today?"
"No, the afternoon's clear. But I'm driving to Rialto tomorrow to see Bill Cook at Bankers Trust, so I don't know when I'll be in. How about you?"
"I have to meet with Jasmine Lee at Zayre's at three. Somebody's highjacking their shipments and it's getting expensive – even for Zayre's." Both men laughed at the joke, and the laughter felt good. "Why don't you take the afternoon off and get out of here? It'll do you good to see something besides these four walls."
"What, so I can go home and look at those four walls?" Stu asked.
"No, go someplace else. Exposition Park – they have beautiful Rose Gardens. It's a nice place to spend the afternoon. Fresh air would do you good," Jeff told his partner.
"Hmm, maybe you're right. Everything I need for the morning's in my briefcase." Stu sat for a minute, then reached for his pipe and tapped it gently on the ashtray to empty it. "Alright, I think I'll go. I don't guarantee that I'll walk in a garden, but I can at least get out of the office. Remember, be careful."
"Yes, sir, I will. But I don't think Miss Lee bites."
"Still . . . "
"I know, I know. Watch my back." Jeff grinned at his partner again.
"Yes, junior. Watch your back," were Stu's parting words as he slipped out the side door. Jeff was probably right, it would do him good to get out of the office for a while. Still, as he got in the T-bird, there was something bothering him. Something he just couldn't put his finger on.