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The sun was rising when Peter Gunn pulled his 1961 Plymouth Valiant into the driveway of 16 Monroe Court and put the top up incase the weatherman had been right. He looked around with a practiced eye not sure what he expected to find.
A boy of about twelve with a bundle of newspapers strapped to his back was circling the cul-de-sac on his bicycle and waved to Pete. He reminded the man a lot of himself at that age, lanky, patched jeans that didn't quite fit a hole in one sneaker. "Are you Mr. Gunn?" he asked.
The detective walked down to the kid, holding out his hand. "Peter Gunn, nice to meet you," the lad grasping it firmly. Did you talk to my wife about getting the paper?"
"Yes sir. She sighed up for seven day delivery and paid in advance. Is that alright with you? My dad said I should ask her being a woman and all."
Pete let out a chuckle. "It's fine with me."
The newsboy looked at him dubiously but nodded. "My name is Teddy Morgan and I live two blocks over. I deliver the morning paper between 5 and 6 a.m. and the evening paper between the same hours at night. Sunday there is only one paper."
Pete thanked him for the information, an idea forming in his mind. "When did you start delivering the paper to my house Teddy?"
The boy counted backwards on his fingers. "Two days ago."
He'd been gone two days. "Have you noticed a car parked outside my house early in the morning during that time?"
"Yes sir. He's been here every morning except today, but I passed him on my way over. He comes and sits outside your house and just watches with binoculars. My dad said it ain't none of my business but it's kind of strange I think. "
"Do you ever see him parked here at night?" Pete could feel his blood pressure rising.
"Not when I delivered the paper but I spent last night with my friend Chad. His dad is a science teacher and he let us look at the stars through this telescope. I saw the car then." And he pointed to the house catty corned from the Gunn's.
"Happen to remember what time of night that was?"
"Around midnight."
Teddy was eager to please but was anxious to get on his way; a late paperboy didn't get many tips. 'I'll make this worth your while." Pete promised pulling a $5 out of his pocket. "Did you notice what kind of car it was?"
"A Buick . Just a plain old Buick. Not a great lookin' car like yours." And the boy's eyes lit up glancing at the sporty Plymouth.
"If it's parked here anytime today do you think you could manage to get me the plate number?"
"Like Dick Tracy or Sherlock Holmes?" he had Ted's full attention.
"Just like that." Pete assured him.
"Yes sir!"
"I'd appreciate." And the P.I. handed him the five dollars. "You better get on with your papers and I better get in to see my wife." Pete smiled at the boy.
"Thank you mister." He put the money deep in his pocket. "And you're lucky. She's pretty and gives out the best cookies I ever ate."
Pete opened the locks on the door of 16 Monroe Court, pulling in his suitcase and shaving kit. He had owned a few pieces of furniture and they had moved them over. Except for Edie's bureau and her grandmother's wash stand and her chiming hall clock all of her things had been furnished. They had bought a few things before moving in but hoped to get more furniture soon. Right now the living room was warm and cozy and he smiled at the thought of being home.
It was 5:30 when the clock chimed and he headed to the kitchen to make coffee. A half eaten piece of egg roll made him chuckle as he picked it up off the kitchen floor and threw it away. Just about then Sherlock came up to him weaving in and out between his ankles, purring to beat the band.
"It's too late, I already threw it away." Pete told him. "And I'd bet you 5 bucks your mommy threw it away once this morning too."
Sherlock just purred stretching out to his full length on the man's dress pants. "Hey do you know I'll have to listen to another lecture about cat hair now?" Pete picked him up and rubbed the feline under his chin. 'I get charged extra for that." Sherlock obviously didn't care as he jumped down looking for his playmate.
Anxiously Pete waited for the coffee to brew, loving that the electric maker could do it in half the time of a percolator. He was torn between wanting Edie to sleep and scooping her up in his arms and having his way with her before finding out what was going on. He poured a cup of the Brazilian blend, added sugar and took a sip. It was then he saw the large package on the table. It was addressed to Edie Hart at this address and carried no return address so more than likely came from a messenger service. Taking two mouthfuls of coffee, he set the cup down and opened the lid, seeing the tissue paper as Edie had and reached in pulling out the purple dress. "Now what do we have here." He said quietly." Looking it over carefully, noting the plunging neckline, the identical back, the high cut thigh and the ghastly purple of the dress. He picked up the note with one hand and read it three or four times. "To my darling, Pete." He was starting to smell a rat.
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Miranda read through the report that Rick Collins had handed her a smile bursting over her Patrician face. "This is very good." She praised him. "I can use this. And you're sure you didn't get caught."
"I'm sure. Like I stated, I did lose Miss Hart and her companion briefly the evening of the 20th but it was barely long enough to count. They went into the townhouse together and he came out about half an hour later."
"Is it possible she's cheating on my Pete already?" Miranda raised an eyebrow."
"No, not long enough for a tryst and I found out the next evening he's heavily involved with a singer at the Crown Jewels named Janice Collier. They are merely friends. Do you want me to keep watch again tonight?"
She thought for a moment, and then nodded. "But I'm going to go ahead and pay you, Pete will be home in a couple of days and we might not be able to talk in person. I don't want to take a chance and mail it. She handed him a check, one that made him dizzy with sheer joy. "Thank you as always Rick."
He tucked the check into his billfold and walked out to his car. He'd stop and get something to eat and then prepare for what was surely his last night at the Gunn residence.
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It was a perfect September evening Pete couldn't help think as he walked around their small fenced in yard. He was eager to try out the built in barbeque and he knew Edie had plans for the patio. While he had been gone she had hung curtains in the kitchen and told him someone was coming to put blinds in next week. The refrigerator actually had real food in it and the counter had more on it than just a coffee pot. He smiled to himself. Who knew that a private investigator and a girl singer could become domesticated?
The look on Edie's face when he walked into the bedroom a day early was one he was unlikely ever to forget. She threw herself in his arms and through all the talking and holding and kissing and caressing they ended up making passionate love. They shared the shower afterwards-if only every morning could start like that. Later he checked on the animals and dressed in the bedroom while she took a bit longer in the bathroom. In the afternoon he took her car shopping, they both liked a beautiful 1961 Chevy Impala sedan, red with a convertible roof and white interior. He didn't like Edie not having her own transportation and now that they were married he could step up and get her a car. They would pick it up next week because he had insisted that air conditioning be installed.
But his musings didn't keep him from the task at hand. He was expecting Richard Collins to show up at any minute and when he did he'd have a little surprise for him.
He could still hear Jacoby's voice reminding him that killing the man or beating him to a pulp would accomplish nothing; that he like Pete had been hired to do a job. But that didn't stop his hands from wanting to ring the guy's neck or hit him until he broke every bone in his body. The P.I. lit a cigarette and continued to wait.
Looking at his watch he saw it was 9:00. The night at Edie's was barely getting started. After the car shopping, she had told him she an errand to run and to please be careful in whatever he was up too. If he wasn't there to pick her up by 1:00, she'd get a ride home from Emmett. Pete had left his car at a neighborhood park and walked home, to give the element of surprise.
A Ford truck went down the road pulling into the house across the street, followed by Chad's father's station wagon leaving their ranch house. It was a strange development really, all houses on one side of the street, most 10-15 years old, all townhouses on this side, built within the last 2-3 years. He walked around the side of their place, saw a 1952 Mustang come down the road, turn in the cull-du-sac and go back out to the main road. Standing in the shadow of the small front porch, he crushed his cigarette and sighed. This could prove to be a long night.
But it wasn't more than fifteen minutes or so when he saw the Buick pull up to the curb in front of the townhouse and stop the engine. From his perch on the neighbor's fence, Pete watched as Richard Collins lit a cigarette taking his time to smoke it, rolling down his window and throwing the butt out on the street. Then he got out of the car and stretched, reached for his binoculars and took a look around the block. Being hired to follow people or watch people wasn't a crime; he had done it more than he cared to think about, but binoculars was another story all together. Collins started up the slope to the Gunn's' yard, pausing to take a breath and light another cigarette. Pete wished he could have another but he didn't dare. He didn't want anything to give him away until he was ready.
Teddy had stashed the license plate number in the evening paper just as they had discussed and Pete had called Jacoby with the information. The lieutenant called back about two hours later, somewhat perturbed but mostly apologetic he hadn't believed Edie's story and gave his friend the information—it belonged to a Richard Collins, two bit detective from across the river who specialized in divorce cases.
Collins neared the house, walked up on the porch, took out his binoculars and tried to peek in the front window but the drapes were drawn. Stepping off into the grass he started around the side by the apple tree Pete quietly following him. Once more he tried to look into a window but he was unable to see because of the curtains. Peter shook his head thinking how easily this man gave up, what kind of detective was he? Collins walked to the patio fence, climbed half way up and once more adjusted his binoculars to his face. Pete watched as Collins somewhat precariously scanned the windows of the second floor, looking eagerly for anything he might see. Just as his hand reached to open the gate to the yard area, Gunn grabbed his adversary by the arm and held him in a vice like grip.
"I'd suggest for you own sake you don't make a sound." He said in a low voice. Rick wiggled trying to slip away but Pete held him tight. "I would very much like to hurt you right now, so I think you should stay still." The other man stiffened as he felt Peter's gun at the back of his neck and he made a whimpering sound. "So why don't we just have a talk and you tell me why you've been spying on my wife."
"I have no idea what you mean." The other man spat out." His whimpering becoming more like blubbering with every turn of the gun against his skin. "I just got lost."
"I see. So you just got lost going through my yard with a pair of binoculars for the last few days? If I were you I'd think about pursuing another past time because this one could get you in all kinds of trouble."
"I'm not doing anything you haven't done yourself." Rick sputtered. "I know who you are Gunn." He took a deep breath and seemed to regain some composure. "Just because your suits cost as much as I make in a month and your shoes are Italian made and you drive that snazzy car doesn't mean that deep down inside you're aren't a detective just like me. You do what you're paid to do. Nothing less, nothing more. "
"All right, suppose you tell me just who paid you and what did they pay you for." Pete couldn't remember the last time he had been this angry but the man did have a point. He took a deep breathe and led Collins to a patio chair. Sitting down right beside him, he kept the gun pressed into the side of the guy's head. "Now tell me your story."
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"I understand hiring the detective to follow me." Edie sipped her cup of coffee, adding more cream, "but why the dress?" After extracting the entire story out of Collins, and turning him over to Jacoby for illegal trespassing, Gunn had picked his wife up at the supper club and now they were discussing his findings over pie and coffee at Lucky's Diner.
"He wasn't sure what she was trying to get across with the dress and frankly neither do I. Aside from the fact that it's purple and she knows I hate the color and it's more than a bit revealing, it's just a Miranda Elliott dress."
"Peter Gunn do you have any idea how much a Miranda Elliott dress costs?" she gave him that 'and people say you are so smart' look. "I had Caroline call up the boutique this evening and get some prices." She pulled a piece of paper out of her clutch. "One dress that she designed would cost more than three of my usual dress purchases combined."
"Like the dress you have on right now?" he seemed incredulous.
"Just like this one."
"How could one dress cost that much?"
"Well, I don't know mister I pay $300 for a suit without blinking." And she touched his cheek lovingly.
Taking that hand he kissed it, keeping hold of it inside his larger one. "I don't buy women's clothing as a usual thing. I honestly had no idea. But at prices like that surely she had a good reason for sending it."
Edie nodded. "Or maybe she's trying to make you jealous."
"How do you figure that?"
"I wear that to the club, I'm likely to attract some attention don't you think. And I think she's assuming I will because my darling husband bought it for me."
"But I came home and told you…oh wait a minute, she doesn't know that."
"No she doesn't. And so I wear it one night and you come in and have a fit and maybe we even fight about it and then she'll be waiting for you with arms open wide."
"And she knows what night I'll walk into the club because…"
"She was the one that had Classen hire you so you'd be away and he promised you'd be gone so many days."
"But I discovered what the problem was, and left early. Which would also explain why he kept trying to find other things for me to do. Of course it all makes sense now. I hope Jacoby found something more on Collins and can make it stick because we have to make sure he and Miranda don't talk for a few days." He pulled some bills out of his pocket with his free hand and laid them on the table.
They walked out to the car, his arms going around her holding her fast against the door. "Are you sure you don't want to be the detective?" he teased, laying a kiss on the side of her neck. "You were really on a roll there."
"I was doing pretty good." She agreed, her lips searching for his and finding them in a breathtaking kiss. It was a beautiful moment, a sliver of moon in the sky and a nice breeze skittering across the night. They kissed again and again, his lips leaving hers to play in the hollow of her throat and moving across her skin. She closed her eyes, her body responding to his. "Pete we need to go home," she whispered kissing him again.
"Hmm." He nodded, helping her in the car, sliding in beside her. He knew he shouldn't give her the next kiss but he couldn't help himself. She let out a deep sigh, his hands going down to cradle her buttocks, pulling her as close as the car allowed. The sound of a police siren on the next street broke them apart, Edie knowing this wouldn't be the first time he'd left her to go after blue lights. But he didn't seem to pay attention. The ten minute drive home took longer than usual they were sure and it was hard to keep hands in their right place. It wasn't until the next morning they discovered one of Edie's shoes on the front porch.
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