Fallen Angels (23 page)

Ernie had speared a shrimp and dipped
it into the wonderful sauce Hop Luey’s provided for same, but his
fork stopped in midair, and the shrimp dangled there, dripping red
sauce like blood. “You and Lulu are going to be
roommates
?”

He sounded so incredulous, I took umbrage.
“Yes. Lulu thinks it’s a wonderful idea, and I’ve also thought
about hiring Mr. and Mrs. Buck. Mr. Buck can still work at the
Figueroa Building, and Mrs. Buck can be cook and housekeeper.

The shrimp made it the rest of its way to
Ernie’s mouth, and he chewed thoughtfully. Then he grinned. I
wasn’t sure I liked that grin. I felt a sarcasm coming my way and
braced myself.

“You and Lulu. Roommates. With a cook
and a housekeeper. Exactly how much are you going to charge Lulu
for this change in her status? Will she be able to afford it on the
wages she gets as receptionist at the Figueroa Building? I
know
you
can afford it, but
can she?”

I struggled to find a hot retort but
couldn’t. Instead, I nibbled on a sparerib and thought. It had
always galled me that Ernie teased me about “coming from money,” as
he’d put it. But, darn it, money meant a whole lot, especially to
people who didn’t have any, and Lulu didn’t. I’d be darned if I’d
gouge my tenants, provided I could find any besides Lulu to rent an
apartment from me.

After I swallowed, I said, “I haven’t
looked into the money angle yet. I’m sure I can peruse the
Times
classified ads and see how
much people pay for nice apartments.”

“Yeah. It’s the
nice
part that might put it out of Lulu’s
range.”

“Darn you, Ernie, Lulu and I are friends! Do
you honestly think I’d make her pay more than she can afford for an
apartment in my own house?”

He shook his head, looking weary and almost
overwhelmed. “No, I don’t. See? That’s the thing. You don’t have a
clue about how real people live. You’d probably end up letting her
stay there for free. Then she’d feel guilty, and eventually you’d
end up feeling used and abused. And that situation wouldn’t be
Lulu’s fault.”

My heart squished, and I felt my face heat up
again. “Do you really think I’d do that?”

“Not on purpose.” He waved an empty chopstick
in the air—the restaurant had provided chopsticks for adventurous
diners, and Ernie was an expert with the implements—and said, “But
you might end up doing it anyway.” He paused for a minute while I
fumed and felt humiliated. “Tell you what,” he said eventually.
“Let me help you with this new enterprise of yours.”

I blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can help you. I’ve been on my own a hell
of a lot longer than you have. I’ve rented places for a long, long
time. I assume Lulu has, too. She’s probably rented some dump of an
apartment somewhere ever since she got here from Oklahoma, or
wherever she’s from. I’m sure if we work on this together, we’ll
figure out something that’s fair for you and Lulu both. And any
other girls you can find to rent apartments to.”

Humbled, I said, “You do?”

“Yes. I do. Your heart’s in the right place,
kiddo. I know that. So does Lulu. But you need a few lessons in
life before you charge into things. I’ll be happy to help you.”

“Thanks, Ernie.”

“Any time, kid.”

We ate in silence for quite a while. I
wasn’t certain I liked being called
kid
by Ernie, although I know he didn’t mean
anything bad by it. I only wished he’d think of me as . . . well,
his equal, I guess.
Kid
didn’t sound equal to me. It sounded as though he considered
me a child in need of a big brother.

But the word did remind me of something else.
“Say, Ernie, did you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Three sisters and a brother.”

“My goodness. That’s a nice-sized
family.”

He gazed at me squinty-eyed. “You think so,
do you?”

“Let me guess,” I continued, only faintly
daunted. “You’re the oldest?”

“Yup.”

“You’re . . . from back east, aren’t
you?”

“Sort of. Illinois.”

“Don’t they call that the Midwest?”

“Yeah, although I don’t know why. It’s more
east than west, if you ask me.”

“I think so, too.”

He eyed me again, looking far from pleased.
“Why are you asking me all these questions? You trying to dig up my
past for some reason? You can’t blackmail me, because I don’t have
any money.”

I ignored the last part of his comment. “Well
. . . yes, I’d like to know about your childhood, but not for any
sinister purpose. I’m just interested. That’s why I’m asking you
these questions. Do you mind that? You don’t want to talk about the
case, after all, and we have to talk about something.”

He shrugged. “I guess I don’t mind. My father
worked in a shoe plant in Chicago, and I grew up there. In Chicago,
not the shoe plant. My mother still lives there. My sisters are all
married, and so’s my brother.”

“What about your father?”

“He died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was a pig.”

Oh, my. I decided not to pursue the father
issue.

“Do you stay in close touch with your
family?”

“Not close touch, no. I send ’em Christmas
cards.”

“Boy, I wish I could get away with that with
my parents and my brother,” I blurted out before remembering I
shouldn’t say things like that.

Ernie only grinned again, so I guess he
didn’t mind. “My folks were just too . . . I don’t know. Stiff and
religious. You know the type?”

“I think so.” I thought about Mrs. Pinkney
and Mrs. Chalmers, whom I guess were both religious, although Mrs.
Pinkney didn’t seem awfully stiff, and Mrs. Chalmers definitely
wasn’t. Actually, come to think of it, in street parlance she was
definitely a stiff, although that’s not what Ernie meant.

Ernie interrupted those fruitless thoughts.
“My father read the Bible to us kids every day and used his belt on
us when we did anything he didn’t like, which was most of the time.
My mother just stayed in the background. I think she was afraid of
him. God knows the rest of us were.”

“That doesn’t sound like very religious
behavior to me,” I said, indignant that the childish Ernie had been
so badly treated.

“It’s religious, all right. Whether it’s
Christian or not is another matter entirely.”

Interesting way to put it. I pondered for a
second before I said, “Good point.”

“How about you? Your parents have a religious
streak?”

“Hmm.” I thought about it as I munched some
fried rice. “Not really. We all went to church on Sundays, but I’m
sure that’s only because doing so was expected of us. My mother
always made sure she fit into what she deemed society would expect
of her. She was involved in all the church women’s activities,
joined the best social clubs. That sort of thing.”

“I can see that,” said Ernie with a nod as he
sprinkled soy sauce on his chow mein noodles.

“It seems to me that the only thing my mother
cares about is what society thinks of her and, therefore, her
children. That’s why she’s so irked with me.”

“I’d call it more furious than irked. She
considers you a rebel and a disgrace to the family, I’ll
warrant.”

I’d have sighed if I didn’t have a mouth full
of shrimp. As soon as I swallowed, I asked, “Did Chloe tell you
that?”

“Tell me what? Your sister and I don’t chat
on a regular basis.”

“Tell you that Mother called me a disgrace to
the family.”

“Ha!” Ernie fairly hooted. “No. I just
figured your mother would use an expression like that. She sure
hates me for hiring you.”

“Well, she’d be happy to know you offered to
fire me.”

“Would firing you put me in her good graces?”
Ernie eyed me cynically.

I caught his meaning. This time I did
sigh. “Of course it wouldn’t. She’d merely continue to pretend
people farther down the social ladder than she is don’t exist. She
hates that I’ve brought
lowness
into her limited vision.”

“You have had dealings with some pretty low
types since you came to work for me,” said Ernie, grinning like the
fiend he sometimes was.

“Yes, that’s true. But I’ve also met Lulu and
you and Phil Bigelow—although I’m truly annoyed with Phil at the
moment—and Mr. Emerald Buck, who is a very nice man and ever so
much more competent than Ned ever was.”

“Ned was nuts,” said Ernie succinctly.

“True.” But I didn’t like to think about
Ned.

“Your mother got kind of interested in the
spiritualists, though,” he said, mentioning another case of ours in
which spiritualists had been involved.

“She did, indeed. She also nearly fainted
when John Gilbert and Rene Adoree came to dinner at Chloe and
Harvey’s house the other night.”

“John Gilbert and Renee Adoree? My, my,
you
do
move in exalted
circles, don’t you?”

I didn’t like the tone that had crept into
Ernie’s voice. It was the tone he used when he thought I was being
hoity-toity, which I’m not, curse him. “No, I don’t,” I said
firmly. “Chloe and Harvey do. I was there because I live with them,
and our mother had demanded to meet some stars of the silver
screen. God knows why. She doesn’t approve of them any more than
she does me.”

“Well, at least they’re famous,” Ernie
suggested, and I was pleased to hear his voice return to
normal.

“In her eyes, being famous is vulgar,” I told
him.

“Good God.”

“Exactly. So don’t you dare tease me about my
background, because it’s not my fault. And, as you can tell, my
mother is definitely a hypocrite. My life in Boston was stifling,
and I’m ever so much happier living in what I consider the real
world and what mother considers the squalid side of life.”

“You’re an interesting girl, kiddo,” said
Ernie.

I lifted my chin. “Thank you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” he said
then, spoiling the moment. “Charlie Wu once told me there’s a
Chinese curse that says, ‘May you live in interesting times.’
Meaning that interesting times are generally pretty rough.”

“Well, I’m not rough,” I said with some
asperity.

“Definitely not,” agreed Ernie.

I’m not sure he meant it as a compliment.

Chapter Fourteen

Taken all in all, our meal was enjoyable. And
I thought it quite kind of Ernie to offer his assistance in setting
up suitable rental schedules in the event I actually did buy the
Nash home on Bunker Hill and let out apartments. The lovely home
could eventually be kind of like a boardinghouse, only not
run-down, like the ones Ernie had told me about. It made me feel
sad to think that Lulu might be living in such a dismal place as
Ernie described. If I did buy the Nash home, I’d be sure to keep
the interior light and airy and serve good food.

Another good thing about that evening was
that Chloe didn’t tease me after Ernie drove me home. In fact, she
invited him in for a glass of sherry.

He agreed and was soon sorry he’d done so,
because all Chloe and Harvey wanted to know about was the Chalmers
case. I finally understood the term “grill.” Both Chloe and Harvey
grilled poor Ernie like a fish over hot coals. No matter how many
questions they asked, however, Ernie buffaloed them by saying he
was prohibited from talking about official business.

“But I thought you weren’t a policeman
anymore!” Chloe cried in dismay.

“I’m not, but as a private investigator, I’m
unable to talk about my clients’ cases with others.”

“Even though your client is . . . deceased?”
Chloe, too, was occasionally hampered by her upbringing. The
Allcutt daughters weren’t supposed to say “dead” in front of
others. We were supposed to use euphemisms like “passed away” or
“gone to a better place.” Heck, “deceased” was a relatively bold
word for her to use.

“The client’s expectation of privacy doesn’t
die with him or her, I’m afraid. After the case is all cleared up,
I’ll be able to talk more about it,” Ernie said gently,
understanding Chloe’s frustration.

“Oh.” Disappointed, Chloe lapsed into
silence.

“I guess that makes sense,” said Harvey,
sounding doubtful. “Sort of like a client’s privilege of privacy
when he consults with an attorney.”

“Exactly,” said Ernie. “Only I’m not trying
to cheat anybody.”

Which goes to prove that nothing’s changed
since Shakespeare’s time. To this day, nobody seems to trust
lawyers. A month before, I’d been envious of the secretary of a
lawyer who’d moved into the Figueroa Building. No longer. I’d stick
with Ernie. His clients might sometimes be less than impeccable
citizens, but at least they didn’t pretend to be otherwise.

Chloe didn’t take sherry, since she didn’t
believe alcohol and pregnancy belonged together. I agreed with her,
although I’m not sure why. Probably our mother had told us so once
upon a time. See how difficult it can be to overcome one’s
upbringing?

“Well, I’m sure you’ll catch the crook in no
time,” said Harvey heartily. He liked Ernie, too.

“I sure hope so. Otherwise, it looks as if
I’ll end up in the slammer.”

“Oh, surely that won’t happen,” said Chloe,
appalled. “Mercy says she’s not going to rest until she discovers
who really killed that woman.”

Ernie, blast him, rolled his eyes.

Chloe tutted. “Mercy’s been quite upset about
how the police have been treating you, Ernie. She’s only trying to
help. I should think you’d welcome her assistance.”

“That will be the day,” I grumbled, irritated
by Ernie’s dismissal of my usefulness.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate her
help, Chloe,” Ernie explained patiently. He was seldom so patient
with me. “It’s that she’s my
secretary
. I hired her as a secretary, not as an
assistant P.I. And,” he said with emphasis, “as her employer, I
feel responsible for her welfare. I don’t want her to get hurt
again.”