The Legend of Joe Moran
Chapter 3Stu asked the same question of Mallory that he'd asked of Harry. "What do you know about last Wednesday?"
There was that smile again. Did the girl do anything else? Stu wondered. "It seemed like a typical workday morning. Mr. Moran came in around nine-thirty, said good morning and went back to his office. At least I think he went back to his office. It was about fifteen minutes later when he came back out carrying his briefcase, told me goodbye and said he'd be back later. I never saw him again."
Very much like what Harry LaMar told him. Either it was the truth or they'd been well-rehearsed. The only way to find out which was to keep asking questions. "What was it like working for Joe Moran?"
"It was just the best. When I started here I didn't have any work experience, but Mr. Moran hired me anyway. Then he had the lady that was leaving train me and within six months he gave me a raise. I just really liked him."
"And Mrs. Moran?" The same loaded question. What exactly was he expecting to hear? That she was a monster, an ogre of some sort? That she couldn't stand her husband and didn't hesitate to show it?
"She seemed nice enough. I didn't know her very well, but I never heard anything bad about her."
Stuart wasn't about to give up, just in case he could get Mallory to say something unexpected. "Anything else you'd care to tell me?"
Mallory shook her head. "No, sir, nothing except I've really enjoyed working here. I hope you find Mr. Moran and that's he's alright." She looked at him expectantly. "If you'd like, I'll send Mr. Debauchery in and you can talk to him. He's usually out in the plant, and it's too noisy out there to hear anything."
"I'd appreciate that Mallory. Thank you for your time." He watched the blonde walk away. In Stu's opinion, she walked like somebody that was telling the truth. That was all he could go by at this point; he'd learned to read people pretty well over the years and she didn't seem to have any reason to lie. He sat there for almost ten minutes before the door opened and Dave Debauchery, the plant manager, walked in. Average height, average weight, average coloring. Overall, the very picture of average. Stu stood up.
"Please, Mr. Bailey, sit down. I'm Dave Debauchery, and I would welcome a chance to get off my feet."
"Call me Stu. What I have to ask is very simple. What happened last Wednesday?" Let's see if I get the same answers, Stu thought.
"Well, I was out in the plant when Joe got here, but I stopped in to see him about twenty to ten. He was putting something in his briefcase, and I figured he was going out to see one of the stores. He was a little short with me, not at all normal for him, and asked what I wanted. I told him the machine on line seven was making funny noises and I wanted to get the repair crew to look at it; he told me to go ahead and get it taken care of. I asked if he was going out to see one of the stores and he didn't answer me. Then I asked when he'd be back and he told me later. That's all he said, later. He left the office and I followed him down the hall; then he went out the front door and I saw him drive away."
"Which way did he go, Dave?"
"South, Stu. Back down LaCienaga. We all waited for him to come back but he never did."
"Were his actions out of character for him?" Just as he'd done with Mallory and Harry, Stu was digging for the unexpected.
The average plant manager nodded an average nod. "Very much so. Joe was always in a good mood, no matter what was going on around here."
"How long has Zippy been in business?" He probably should have asked Harry that question, but frankly it hadn't occurred to him. It wasn't normal for Stu to allow things to get by him like that.
"Quite a while. It started as one small store with a little plant in back right after the war, and just kept growing."
Something in the answer made him ask the next question. "Was Joe Moran the man that started the business?" And Stu finally got the nugget of information he'd been searching for.
"No, Joe bought the company lock, stock, and barrel almost four years ago. Sal Romano started that first store."
Joe Moran had bought the business almost four years ago. Right before he'd married Audrey. More digging. "What had he done before he bought Zippy? Do you know?"
Dave looked like he was thinking for a minute before he answered. "I seem to remember him saying that he'd owned a similar business, in Phoenix I believe it was."
There it was at last. Almost as good as a gold mine, Stu had the information he'd been seeking. Somewhere to go and begin to unravel this mystery that seemed to be Joe Moran.
XXXXXXXX
Stu went back to the office and had Suzanne call the airlines. Jeff's door was open and Stu stuck his head in the office. "Sorry, partner, I have to take a pass on dinner tonight. I'm flying to Phoenix."
"Phoenix? What's in Phoenix?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe something, maybe nothing. But it's all I've got right now."
Jeff knew better than to ask any more questions. If Stu had additional information he would have given it freely. "What should I say if Audrey Moran calls?"
"Tell her where I am and I'll be in touch as soon as I get back." Audrey was going to have to settle for that answer for now. He couldn't tell her anything she didn't already know.
His intercom buzzed. "Stuart, I have you on a flight to Phoenix in forty-five minutes. Will that work?"
Stu kept a suitcase already packed in his office for just such situations. "It will. I'll be out in a minute." He turned back to his partner. "Got to go, old boy. I'll call you if anything comes up."
Thirty minutes later Stu was at the airport boarding Western Airlines Flight 672 non-stop to Phoenix. In less than two hours he'd be in a city looking for a man that might have had a business there some four or so years ago. He started going over everything he'd learned today and it made him wonder . . . just who was Joe Moran? And where had he vanished to? He didn't realize how tired he was until he heard the stewardess announcing they'd be arriving in Phoenix in just a few minutes, and he realized he'd fallen asleep.
He rented a car at the airport and drove into the city. Phoenix was lit up like a Christmas tree, and Stu went to the Westward Ho Hotel in downtown and checked in. It was too late in the day to go anywhere, so he went downstairs to the dining room and had dinner. After his meal and brandy, he went back to his room and began his search of the phone book. There were several small to medium dry-cleaning establishment, one even named Joe's Dry Cleaners. He could check them out in the morning.
Of more interest was what he found in the residential listings. There was a P. Moran at 4375 Terrwood, in North Phoenix. He copied the phone number and closed the book. He thought he'd be awake after his nap on the airplane, but he found himself yawning and gazing longingly at the bed. Sleep seemed like a better idea than trying to stay awake; he got into his pajamas, got into bed and turned off the light. As he drifted off into sleep he had visions of chasing an unknown man down the city streets of Hollywood. It occurred to him in the haze of slumber it was probably the man he was searching for, the mysterious Joe Moran.