The Book of Esther
Chapter 12Gil tore open the envelope and pulled out . . . another key. "What kind of a game was he playing with us?" the Lieutenant asked angrily.
"Let me see that," and Stu put his hand out.
Gil deposited the key in Stu's outstretched hand. Stu rubbed it between his fingers and then stared at it intently. "I don't think it's a game at all," he pronounced. "I think he was being very, very careful. This key is to a storage locker at the airport. When you rub it the key number becomes visible. Are you up for a trip to LAX?"
Gil stared at Stuart for a good minute before answering. "You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Let me call in," Gil advised the P.I. , then checked in with headquarters. When he was finished he turned back to Stu. "Well, nobody new has been killed since I left and Flaherty seems to think things are relatively peaceful. So let's go."
Stu got in the passenger side and Gil started the engine. It took them about twenty minutes to get to LAX and once they were parked they headed for the lockers. The number on the key was 54789 and it was another thirty minutes before they found the right locker. Once there Stu slid the key in the lock and opened it. There was a lone manila envelope with a tape inside.
"My office or yours?" Stuart asked.
"Yours. Mine's too noisy," the Lieutenant answered. Back to the car they went and from there proceeded to Sunset Strip. When they got back to Stu's office they went in the front door to let Suzanne know they were there, then Stu got out the tape recorder in his office while Gil opened the door to Jeff's office.
"Hey Gil, what's going on?" Jeff asked.
"Oh, not much. After a long morning Stu and I found a tape you might want to listen to."
"A tape? Of what?" Jeff asked curiously.
"That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question," Gil responded. "Come next door and listen."
Jeff followed Gil back into Stu's office. Both men took a seat in front of Bailey's desk, while the man himself finished threading the tape around the recorder. When he was finished Stu pushed the play button and they listened to unidentifiable noises for a minute or two before a man's voice could be heard.
"What is this for?" The voice asked.
"You've been all over town trying to borrow ten-thousand-dollars. Everyone's turned you down. I thought you'd be ready to borrow it from me by now."
"Why, so you can take over the club when I can't pay the exorbitant interest rates?" This appeared to be Artie Felder. Esther could confirm that for them.
"I've told you before, Felder, we don't want the club."
There was a long span of silence. "What are your terms?"
"Five percent interest per week, balance due in sixty days."
"Five percent per week? Are you crazy?"
"That's what we get. Just remember, nobody else will give you the money."
"And what if . . . I mean what if I can't pay one week?"
"Well . . . we'd have to have some kind of collateral, naturally."
"What kind of collateral do you want?"
"We want the girl."
"The girl? You mean Esther? What for?"
"I shouldn't tell you – but we've got a shiny new place about five miles from here. We want her to headline . . . be the main attraction."
"Then what do you want from me? You sure don't want her physically, do you?"
"We want her contract. So we can make a star out of her."
"I won't give it to you."
"Then you don't want the money very badly, do you?"
The sound of Felder's voice changed. "Don't you see? I want the money to fix this place up, so she's got a classier place to dance. She deserves to be a star."
"And we agree with that. That's why we want to run her as the headline act at the new Blue Moon Club. She'll have the very best of everything. Quit stalling, Felder, and take the money. Think of the things you could do with ten-thousand dollars. You can discover another dancer."
"There isn't another dancer like Esther."
"Then it's easy; just pay your bills."
"No. I don't want the money."
The second voice had gotten angry. "Listen, old man, you know what's gonna happen if you don't take it? They're gonna turn off the heat, then the lights, then the landlord's gonna evict you for non-payment of rent. And the girl's contract ain't gonna be worth the paper it's written on. And then you ain't got nothin' but a pile of bills."
Dead silence ensued for several minutes. Finally, Artie's voice could be heard saying, "Alright. I'll take it."
"See now? That's the smart thing to do."
That's where the tape ended. The three men looked at each other. "That could be Jimmie Kline," Stu offered. "Artie was a hard sell. It might have taken the boss to convince him."
"I'd bet on Harley Franklin," Gil added. "But there's only one way we'll know for sure."
Jeff stood up and looked at the other two men. "I'll go get Esther. She can tell us for sure."
"Get that tape back to me as soon as Esther's heard it. I can arrest Kline and take down his whole organization. I have to go back to the precinct. I'll talk to you later." Gil followed Jeff out.
Stu picked up the phone and called his apartment. "Bailey residence," a female voice answered.
"Esther, it's Stu. Jeff's on his way to pick you up and bring you back to the office. There's a tape we need you to hear. Have Roscoe come with you, alright?"
"Yes, sir," Esther answered, then giggled.
"By the way, where's the contract you signed with Artie?"
"Artie had one in his office and I have one."
"Do you have it with you?" Stu questioned. They couldn't possibly be that lucky, could they?
"I do. It's in my suitcase."
"Bring that too, would you?"
"Sure."
"Stick it between the pages of a magazine. Any magazine. Just so no one can see what you're bringing. Please."
"Anything else?"
Stuart chuckled a little, then got serious. "Yes. Stay safe."
"I will. You do the same."
1