The Gumshoe Diaries (9 page)

Sure Jai was acting strangely and what was he
doing meeting clandestinely with a uniformed officer in this town
anyway? It couldn’t be sexual, that much I was more than sure of.
I’d know the two little homos for better than twenty years and
their relationship was rock solid, no doubt whatsoever! Whatever
his reasons were I was fairly certain that I would have to ferret
it out of the unknown cop, whoever it was. Confronting Jai while Lu
was so deeply depressed would be unfair, at least for right now.
Jai and I were heading toward a
“come to Jesus meeting”
but
it could wait a while. I was getting a headache and ordered a
meatloaf sandwich to go. I would finish this session back at my
flat.

--

Alexandria Hotel, Los Angeles…Wednesday, Feb
18, 2009…3pm

--

It was time to update my KKK notes, what I
knew, what I thought I knew, and what I wanted to know. I poured
the Guinness from the fridge into my official English pint and set
down at my window desk to eat my meal while I racked my brain.
Opening up my tattered spiral stenographers note pad I flipped back
several pages to where I had stored my original KKK thoughts.
Ignoring the doodle art I started updating my notes:

--

What do I know?

1. Sally November was still dead

2. Jai Lai, the little flamer knows way more
than he is letting on

3. Somebody in the LAPD was closer to this
than they probably should be

4. I’ll need details from Sally’s autopsy
sooner than later

5. I’m going to owe Judy Looney big time

--

What do I think I know?

1. SN and Jai Lai had been in touch from day
one of her arrival

2. SN’s death was no surprise for Jai

3. SN may have been more than an alias (still
working on that angle)

4. SN had been murdered elsewhere and brought
back to her apartment

5. SN was in the wrong place at the wrong
time, she wasn’t meant to die

--

What do I want to know?

1. What was the exact time of death

2. What was the actual cause of death

3. What was in the toxicology report

4. What was Jai’s relationship to Mei Li
Teng

5. What was Oscar Celaya keeping under his
hat (that hump is always in the know)

--

My head was pounding and I gobbled a couple
of extra strength Tylenol and washed them down with another
Guinness, draining half the pint in two long gulps. A police
cruiser screamed by past the window and screeched around the corner
on Grand onto 5th street in the general direction of the 110
freeway. It was enough of a distraction to jolt me out of my
brainstorming trance. Unfortunately it also startled the crap out
of me and now there was a river of Guinness rushing across the
small writing table at which I was sitting.

“
Son of a bitch,”
I
shouted, jumping out of my chair!

Fortunately for me the only damage was to the
steno-pad that I had covered with snappy little doodles over the
last hour or so. Sure, sometimes those doodles proved useful, rife
with clues mixed in with the art. But seeing as I had the talent of
a five year-old with ADD, all the Guinness did was save me a couple
of hours trying to read my own handwriting. Yeah, I’m pretty old
school, and you could politely say that I was electronically
challenged. So, there wasn’t any chance I’d wrecked a laptop or a
what-cha-ma-call-it,
an iTouch
.

Look, when my brain gets full I empty it,
meaning I break out a new stenographer’s notebook and fill it,
every page, front and back. I had boxes of them, labeled, dated,
and cataloged. I kept them stacked neatly against the wall across
from my bed. A couple of them were pulling double duty as the base
for my coffee table. Lay a thick piece of glass or sheet of plywood
(depending on your budget) across four tightly packed banker’s
boxes and
viola
, coffee table. Made the small room pretty
cozy but since my divorce from both Rhonda and the LAPD, this small
room had to multi-task. Rhonda took my present (our savings, our
home, etc…) and the LAPD took my future (my pension, my self
respect, etc…). I’m over it though, there’s nothing to be gained in
bitterness. All that noise brings is an early grave. In hindsight
Rhonda earned every penny putting up with the mistress that my job
had become. I wasn’t there for her when she was searching for
herself. The cash helped with that journey even if where it took
her was confusing as hell, but I won’t waste any words on that
nightmare. As for the LAPD, fuck em!

Yanking the quilt off of my unmade bed I
mopped up the puddle of Guinness, pitiful waste of a good pint. I
guess now is as good a time as any to get the laundry done. I could
make a couple of calls while I waited at the Laundromat. The first
call should be to Judy to see if she had any pull with the
Coroner’s Office. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear from me again so
soon. I needed to see that tox report, preferably before Oscar’s
team did. The next call would be to Jai Lai, it was time. That was
going to be a little tricky as I’d have to think of a good reason
to call him out of the blue. Jai and I weren’t near as close as Lu
and I were. I’ll think of something though, I’d hung around enough
lawyers in my life to be able to fabricate something useful. It’s
time to start answering the questions I’d been collecting. Sally
would be buried in a few days and I wanted to send her spirit to
wherever it is that spirits go with her killer’s name scribbled on
the box they lay her to rest in. I wanted her family have closure.
I wanted Lu to sleep again, to have peace of mind.

****

(“dead man lying by the side of the road with the
daylight in his eyes…don’t let it bring you down “)…Neil
Young…1967

Chapter Twelve

Alexandria Hotel, Los Angeles…Wednesday, Feb
18, 2009…4pm

I am bored, this man bores me. Everything
about him just bores me to tears. He’s taking the fun out of this.
Well, almost. I needn’t waste any more time here, he’s not going
anywhere. He’ll shave, shower, eat and sleep until 7 or 8 this
evening. It’s his pattern, his boring, boring pattern. I suppose I
could wait around and listen to him quiz Dr. Looney with his usual
flare, rife with a boring amount of sexual innuendo and vulgar
banter, the gutter snipe. Is he really attracted to that egghead? I
think that he is. Ah well, no accounting for taste I suppose. He’s
worse than a schoolboy crushing on his cute homeroom teacher,
pathetic!
I could stay put and hear it all from where I am
perched. He has no idea who, what, or where I am, he has no inkling
that he is being watched. Ah but isn’t that the way with everyone?
Nobody wants to think they are that exposed, but they are. Someone
is always watching, always.

I think maybe it would be more interesting to
watch him from the other end of his call. Dr. Looney and I have yet
to meet, formally that is. Perhaps this would be an opportune time?
Now that would be a keen distraction, wouldn’t you agree? Women in
general possess a heightened sense of awareness; it’s instinctive.
She’d feel my presence even if she could not see me. Her
sensitivity served my purpose, a woman’s fear is always more
intense. Men have a keen fight or flight instinct. Women are deer
in the headlights. Yes, I should visit Judy. I really had no plans
to do so, it would be so impulsive. Not like me, not like me at
all. Still, I am strangely intrigued? Typically smart, driven
females repulse me. They are overly assertive, out to prove
themselves either equal to or superior to the males of the species.
Pity, because in doing so the very essence of their femininity is
sacrificed, and for what, to take on the worst characteristics of
men? And intentionally change that was designed by the creator to
be soft and beautiful into something hard and ugly. It’s a sad and
unnatural transformation.

Christian Scripture reminds those that pay
attention to such things that one cannot serve two masters. It’s
true. Mankind has been missing that point ever since the garden in
Eden. And the All Mighty has been punishing them throughout the
ages ever since. They still don’t get it, fools. I suppose I could
lend a hand in this instance, couldn’t I? Ah, but there’d be no
sport in it. As females go Judy Looney is far from the worst of the
lot. But Whitey is such a rube, and she is becoming a bit of a
distraction. I need him to focus right about now and haven’t the
patience for any detours. Judy’s served our purpose, we don’t need
her anymore. It’s an opportunity to lend a hand to the man
upstairs.

--

SHO-M-U-LYKE-M
, Los
Angeles…Wednesday, Feb 18, 2009…4pm

--

It doesn’t rain very often in LA and when it
does the populace goes positively bonkers. You’d think they had
never seen water fall from the sky. Drivers can’t drive, buses are
later than usual, traffic lights stop working, and everyone is
dressed for a monsoon, ridiculous! That tended to make life
miserable for Lu and Jai. As card carrying
germ-a-phobes
every time the door opened and a fresh batch of customers rushed in
and shook off the cold their little pointed heads would nearly
explode. Today was one of those days.

“
OH, OH, please stop that,”
Lu
shouted, running over to assist his newest arrivals! He threw a
fresh bath towel onto the floor at their feet and quickly handed
another to each of the patrons.

“
May I,”
he added, taking their coats
while they toweled off. He pointed at their shoes and then at the
racks next to the door. They picked up on his message without a
word spoken and stooped to remove their shoes placing them with the
others.

“Thank you for your indulgence, we’re Asian
after all,” Lu said smiling meekly.

“Not a problem Lu, it’s not our first time
here,” replied the taller of the two.

“Of course, I should have recognized you,”
said Lu, slightly embarrassed.

“
YES
you should have,”
scolded Lu’s better half, as Jai joined him at the door.

“Thank you Mr. Mankowitz, forgive the mess,
it’s the precipitation you see,” Jai explained.

“Yeah, well you think we can we get a seat
and a nosh now fellas, or are we going stand here and gab through
my dinner break?”

“Of course, of course, Armando, table seven,”
Jai replied, summoning the nearest waiter to seat the two patrons.
The small round employee arrived in nanoseconds and quickly ushered
the pair to the empty table near the deli case. Mr. Mankowitz
winked at Lu and Jai as he was seated and the owners waived and
made their way back to the kitchen.

“Well, that went well,” Jai said
sarcastically.

“Can we just leave it alone,” Lu begged, his
tone tired and low?

“Oh Lu Lu, don’t be like that, I didn’t mean
anything by it. I was just saying that I’m glad that went as
smoothly as it did, all things considered.”

“I see, well, do you think we should pick up
their tab,” Lu asked?

“No, these guys are shitty tippers, all the
girls say so. Besides, they don’t earn a freebie by making puddles
on our Italian marble, I mean really!”

“You’re to cute sweetness, now I remember why
I keep you around,” said Lu, hugging his partner as they got back
down to business. Just then Armando peeked in the kitchen door.

“Should I comp these guys a couple of
cocktails?”

“
NO,”
Jai and Lu replied
together, giggling at the absurdity of the question!

“I’m taking a break,” Jai said, bussing Lu
and heading for the door.

“You mean you’re taking a nap,” Lu
replied.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, I’ve earned
it,” Jai whined as he exited the kitchen.

Jai walked quickly through the dining room
and past the bar to take the private lift up to the apartment
upstairs. He accepted the glass of Chardonnay from William the
bartender as he past by and entered the small elevator. Smiling at
nobody in particular he sipped on his wine as the doors closed. His
cell phone rang as if on cue. Jai fancied Mozart’s
fleur de
le
it was his signature ringtone for the week, which he
religiously changed every Sunday before bedtime. He waited a moment
to answer, enjoying each note before the bridge.

“
Cello,”
he said coyly, pretending not
to know who was on the other end.

“Don’t toy with me you beast! As much as I
enjoy the heavy breathing I prefer it face to face lover,” Jai
continued, scolding the mystery caller. The elevator stopped and
the doors opened just as the expression on his face changed. The
blood had suddenly drained from his face and he was even paler than
normal, which was saying a lot because Jai Lai was famously
nocturnal. Whatever had been said had brought on a serious mood
change. Jai exited hurriedly, jogging across the all white carpet
in his stocking feet and sat uncomfortably on a pristine white
sofa. He sat down gingerly as if he were sitting on rice paper. His
reflection in the large bay window stared back at him
accusingly.

The city began the day to night
transformation as the sun set quickly. Dusk became evening and the
silence in the empty apartment seemed eerily familiar. Jai made no
sound. He was clearly agitated. He listened for a long time,
speechless, never uttering a response. He sat as if made of stone
and stared down his own reflection, never blinking, not once, it
was unnatural.

“You’re lying,” Jai said finally, tears
dropping from his eyes. His voice began to quaver and was reduced
to a harsh whisper. Sniffling audibly he continued.

“Why are you doing this? I don’t believe you,
I won’t
,” he whimpered, licking at his lips, tasting the
salt from his tears. The voice on the phone was gone, the line
disconnected. Still Jai held the device to his ear as if whoever
was speaking would start again at any moment. Several minutes
passed, long enough for the tears to dry, leaving snail trails down
both cheeks.