Razzamatazz (A Crime Novel) (21 page)

"Schufeldt's right up there with Nagle for the sleazeball of the year award," Colin whispered.

"I'm glad I don't have to choose between them," Annie said.

"Thank you, Special Agent Schufeldt. Now, would you like to make a statement, Chief Hallock?"

"No, thank you. No, wait. Yes, I would." Hallock, in his summer uniform of short-sleeved white shirt and lightweight dark blue trousers, gun holstered on his right hip, walked slowly past Schufeldt, eyes straight ahead, shoulders squared. He bent down, not bothering to adjust the mike.

"Mr. Mayor, Miss Townsend, Councilmen. I wish to respond to the charge Special Agent Schufeldt made against me of deliberately steering him wrong. I am guilty of that charge."

There were murmurs in the audience.

"I willfully and deliberately steered Special Agent Schufeldt to Whitey's Dockside Restaurant with full knowledge that the food is lousy and the prices exorbitant. Thank you." He walked back to his seat.

A burst of laughter filled the room and Gildersleeve rapped the gavel. Colin could see that Hallock was trying not to smile and almost losing the battle.

Gildersleeve hammered the desk, his small eyes shrinking with anger. "Quiet. Quiet, people!" Slowly the laughter subsided and Gildersleeve resumed control. "This is not a laughin' matter, there's not one thing funny about this."

A male voice from the back called out, "Whitey Barnes ain't gonna find it funny, that's for sure."

This time there was a trickling of laughter, but the sound of the gavel sliced through it, cutting it off before it could build.

"We are here today to discuss serious business, and I'm shocked to see that our own chief of police would intentionally try to reduce these precedin's to such a trivial level. I think that action speaks for itself. The forum is now open. If any of you would like to say anythin' before the Council takes a vote, this is the time." He nodded his head for emphasis, his jowls wobbling. "The chair recognizes Rita Sherr."

She was a tall woman who had long dark hair streaked with gray. Near the front, she had only to walk a few steps to the microphone. "I've been in business here for six years. By Memorial Day my jeans shop is packed and it doesn't let up till after Labor Day. But not this year. So far, this year has been a disaster. I say, why? A. The economy is in better shape than it's been for a long time. B. This area was written up last year in
The New
York Times
as a swell place to vacation. So why is my business off by over half?" She shrugged and stretched out her hands as if waiting for the answers to fall into her palms.

"I'll tell you why. Because nobody wants to come to a place where they might get murdered. And I say, who can blame them? The thing of it is, and I'm sorry to say this, if the chief of police can't do his job then we got to be ruthless. We got to put somebody in charge who can."

The audience applauded enthusiastically.

Gildersleeve said, "The chair recognizes Elbert Palmer."

"I had to let go the boy I hired for the summer," the barber said. "Couldn't afford to pay him no more. I still got my usual customers but nobody new 'cause there ain't nobody new around here. Leastways, I ain't see no new heads."

Jake Hicks was next. "This kind of thing don't hurt the mail— rain or shine, you know. But what it's doing to me and my family is making us stay home nights. Feels like it's February and I can tell you, me and the wife've got cabin fever."

"It's a disgrace," said Carolyn Dobbs. "This should have been stopped right in the beginning. You don't let a thing like this get out of hand. I say Chief Hallock's had long enough to show his mettle, and he just isn't up to snuff."

"The chair recognizes Reverend Ann Winters."

"I've never been close to a murder case before, but I can't believe that Chief Hallock isn't doing everything possible. If you don't have anything to work with, you can't simply make up clues or arrest people without reason. I feel we should stick by the chief and give him all the support we can."

There was a smattering of applause, but the boos and hisses drowned it out. Annie sat down, shoulders sagging.

Colin said, "Good for you."

"I don't think it helped much."

"It'll mean something to him."

After Annie there were six more speakers, five against Hallock, one for. And then Gildersleeve recognized Julia Dorman.

The microphone was hustled up the aisle by a youngish man Colin didn't recognize and placed in front of the cool blonde who had risen from a seat next to Fran Hallock.

"Thank you, Mayor. I believe what I have to say refers to the lines of inquiry Special Agent Schufeldt was kept in the dark about. Three days ago, I and four other women were enlisted to help Chief Hallock pursue an idea he had pertaining to the murderer."

Colin saw Fran's face fall. She reached out a hand toward Julia Dorman as if to stop her, then let the arm drop back to her lap.

"We were all glad to help because we, as you can understand, wished the murderer to be apprehended as soon as possible, and if we could do anything to help gain that end, well, then we were more than willing to give our time. However, in light of the murder this morning and a certain fact that has come to our attention, we now feel that Chief Hallock has not only wasted our time but his own as well, thereby slowing down an investigation that needs to move rapidly forward."

"Could you please tell the Council what Chief Hallock asked you gals to do?"

Julia Dorman's mouth twitched. "Certainly. Chief Hallock believed that the A that seemed to be a trademark of the killer's was either his first initial, his last, or his middle."

A bark of laughter came from near the door. Colin saw that it was Jim Drew, his hand now covering his mouth and his glance darting from person to person as if to ask for forgiveness for his inappropriate laughter.

"Go on, Mrs. Dorman."

"Well, we had to go through the local phone book, marking off any names that fell into that category. And then we began phoning these people, asking a series of questions meant to narrow down a list of suspects."

"Hey, I got one of them calls," a woman cried out.

"Me, too. Got one this morning."

Others joined in, and Gildersleeve rapped the gavel for silence.

"I'm very sorry," Julia said, looking ashamed, "for anyone who was inconvenienced. We were just trying to help, not realizing what a total waste of time it was. At any rate, we women believe," she swept a hand to her right indicating Fran and the others, "that Chief Hallock has totally bungled this investigation. Thank you."

It didn't take long after that. There were a few more statements, mostly against Hallock. Colin wanted to speak for him, but as a newspaperman he could not take sides publicly. The vote was predictable and unanimous.

Gildersleeve announced, to no one's surprise, that Special Agent Schufeldt would be in charge of the case and that everyone was expected to give him their cooperation.

When the meeting was adjourned Colin and Annie approached Hallock, who immediately shook Annie's hand and thanked her for her support.

Colin said, "Sorry, Waldo. You don't deserve this."

"Maybe I do," he answered softly. "Maybe I do."

"The hell with that," Colin said. "You've done your best. That asshole Schufeldt isn't going to solve this thing."

"That's what really bothers me."

"Maybe you can still work on it," Annie suggested.

"Think so?"

"Why not? Who can stop a private citizen from doing a little investigating?"

"You might be right," he acknowledged, a dim light in his eyes.

"Let's talk, soon," Colin said.

Annie hugged Hallock.

He tried to smile and failed.

Colin saw Mark near the door. He hated board meetings, and Colin wondered what he was doing here.

"Don't look so surprised, pal. This is the biggest story of my career in Seaville. I don't want to miss anything. Hi, Annie."

"Sarah was looking for you this morning," she said.

"Yeah, I know. We got it straightened away." He turned to Colin, "So what do you think of the verdict, your guy being pushed out?"

Colin was irritated at the almost gleeful sound in Mark's voice. He didn't like Hallock being called his guy, either. "I think it sucks. Not to mention stupid. The only way I can see Schufeldt catching this guy is if he happens to stumble over him in the act."

"It doesn't seem like Hallock was doing much, screwing around with a lot of names, calling half the people on the Fork. What an asshole thing to get into. Did you know about it before today?"

He was not going to tell Mark he'd helped Hallock, but he couldn't totally lie. "I knew."

Mark shook his head as if to say that Colin was an asshole too.

It was an exceptionally warm day for early June. Colin took off his khaki sport jacket and threw it over his shoulder. He turned to Annie. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded and said good-bye to them both.

"What's going on, pal?"

"With Annie? I'm taking her out tomorrow night."

"Great. I'm glad, Colin, no kidding."

"Let's not make too big a deal out of it, okay?"

"Hey, listen, I don't want to make you uptight. But I think it's good. Healthy."

"My car's down there. Where's yours?"

"Over there," he said, pointing in the opposite direction from Colin's. "See you back at the shop."

"Right." Walking toward his car, Colin thought he was really looking forward to seeing Annie the next night. He opened the door of the car, tossed his jacket to the passenger side, and climbed in. "Jesus!" he said, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Babe said. She was slumped down in the seat, Colin's jacket slung across her.

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding harsher than he felt.

She sat up in the seat, threw his jacket in back. "I want to talk to you. Need to." She smiled, cocking her head to one side, trying to look cute.

"What about?"

"Had lunch?"

He hadn't. "What do you want to talk to me about, Babe?"

"I'm just longing for some moo shu pork. Let's go to the Peking Palace."

"They have lousy food," he said.

"I know but what choice do we have? Confucius say: Lousy moo shu pork is better than no moo shu pork. Come on, let's go."

"Get out of the car, Babe."

"I do believe he's cross." She batted her green eyes at him in mock fear.

"Out."

Suddenly her eyes lost their playful gleam, turning hard like two pieces of jade. "I think you'd better talk to me, Colin. I'm not kidding."

"Out," he said again, but with less conviction. He sensed danger.

She got out, then leaned back in. "I know you can't drive with me in the car, so meet me at the Peking. I want to talk to you about something very important. A murder. In fact, three murders. They happened in Chicago about three years ago."

She slammed the door.

LOOKING BACK
—75 YEARS AGO

Last week the Rev. Dr. John L. Scudder of Seaville stated that he was thinking of starting an Anti-Kissing Society. Then, with great seriousness, the progressive clergyman amplified his views on the pernicious habit of kissing. "Kissing is a pretty custom, but there is such a thing as kissing a person to death," said he. "If the kisser has tuberculosis or diphtheria, there is great danger that the disease will be communicated to the kissee. It is time to start Anti-Kissing leagues throughout America."

TWENTY-TWO

Perfection. That's what he strived for, always. Never managed it before. This time he was succeeding. Better than he'd imagined. Making them all crazy. What a touch of genius to put the undertaker on his own slab. Wished he could've seen the father find the son. Hearing about it was pretty good but not the same. They were saying Ted Carroll could be heard clear down to Bay View, screaming his lungs out. And the mother, later. Had to give her a shot, they said. Felt sorry for the girl, Debbie, though. Not her fault, nothing connected there. She'll find another guy.

It's merely justice that I seek. Is that so terrible? I get no justice any other way. You can't rely on the police, God knows. Not then, not now. Not ever. If you want results you must be aggressive. Assertive. Plan your plan. Make your move. Make a sad song better. But not anyone could do it. It takes insight, imagination, power. These three things have been my legacy. Three is the lucky number. If you have three you have a bonus. Bonus. Bonus is the whole bunch of them, the whole lousy town's scared. Who's next? they wonder. Who's next? So dumb. All they'd have to do is think. Put it together. Put their heads together. Think back. Look back. Yes, it's true. Simple is best. If you complicate things you get nowhere. Alphabets. Initials. What shit. What will they think of next? They cannot see the forest for the trees. They are simply—spellbound!

LOOKING BACK
—25 YEARS AGO

Whitey's Dockside Restaurant has received national recognition in the new edition of "Duncan Hines' Adventures in Good Eating" just off the press. It is the only restaurant in Seaville included among the 3,500 selected restaurants "Recommended by Duncan Hines," out of a total one-third million eating places in North America.

TWENTY-THREE

Hallock sat in the parking lot of the Seaville Nursing Home. The two most important women in his life for the last thirty years or so had been Fran and his mother. Three years before his mother had had a stroke that paralyzed her on one side. She couldn't be there for him anymore. In the last months she seemed to be slipping away, in a world of her own, talking a lot about her mother. It was painful and hard to watch. Still, he needed to see her today as he always did when things went wrong. Usually he went to her after Fran. But not today. Maybe not ever again. He didn't want to think about Fran now.

Looking down at his hat and gun on the seat beside him, he couldn't believe he'd never wear them again. Goddamn Schufeldt. Goddamn town. Who the hell was he kidding? You can't stay at the top if you're sliding toward the bottom. The fact was, he didn't have a clue to who this killer was. Maybe he'd been going at it wrong. Maybe? That was a laugh. He must've been nuts to try that scheme with the initials. But he couldn't believe he'd been publicly humiliated by that snot, Julia Dorman. The trouble with her was she'd had a husband who didn't love her, married her for her money, and everybody knew it. Including her. But Fran? Fran had a husband who adored her. So how could she have sat there like a lump and listened to that bitch pull him down? Ah, hell.