This Dame for Hire (29 page)

“All right.” Her little finger stuck straight out as she lifted her espresso.

I started to talk like I was telling a story, everything in order. She said nothing. But I kept going. And then she interrupted me.

“Warner Garfield?”

“Ya’ve heard his name?”

“You might as well know, Miss Quick, I always knew that Alec Rockefeller was a fraud.”

“How?”

“Claudette told her uncle, and he told me.”

“You mean Captain Walker?”

“Yes.”

“What exactly did he tell ya?”

“Cornell told me ‘Alec’ was a fabrication, gave me the boy’s real name, and said Claudette pretended to date him when she was seeing her real boyfriend, Warner Garfield.”

My head was reeling. “And did he tell ya why Claudette was doin that?”

“He said Warner Garfield was an actor and she knew we wouldn’t approve of him.”

“And was Captain Walker right?”

“An actor wouldn’t have been my first choice for my daughter.”

“What did Mr. West say about this?”

“Porter didn’t know. Cornell and I decided it would be best if we didn’t tell him. We agreed she’d probably get over this fellow, but if Porter knew he’d make a terrible fuss and perhaps force Claudette’s hand.”

“Meaning what?”

“She was so rebellious.” A slight smile snuck onto her face. “When Porter carried on about Richard, I think it made Claudette stay with him longer than she would have, and Cornell and I thought the same thing could happen with this Garfield boy if Porter knew about him.”

I recalled that Captain Walker had denied knowing anything about Warner Garfield. Under the circumstances, what else could he do?

“I can see yer reasonin. So ya didn’t tell Claudette ya knew either.”

“No.”

“And your brother didn’t tell her he’d told you?”

“No, of course not. He wanted to remain her confidant.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Was Mr. Garfield the father of Claudette’s child?” Myrna asked.

“I don’t know. But I doubt it. You see, Warner Garfield was—”

“Well, well, look who we have here,” said a voice.

And when I looked up I saw that it was Captain Cornell Walker.

THIRTY-TWO

Cornell. What are you doing here?” Myrna asked. “I might ask you the same.”

“But yer not gonna, right?” I said.

He pulled out a chair. “May I join you?”

I wanted to say no, but I thought that was Myrna’s place. It was a stretch to think this was an accidental run-in.

“As you can see,” Myrna said, “I’m having coffee with Miss Quick.”

He sat. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Are you following me, Cornell?”

“Don’t be foolish. I was walking by, and I saw you inside.”

“But what are you doing down
here
?”

For these people, as I’d heard over and over, being in the Village was as likely as being on the moon.

“I often come to Greenwich Village, Myrna. I enjoy the atmosphere.”

Myrna turned to me. “Cornell plans to be a painter when the war is over.”

“Is that so?” I said.

“I dabble.”

“That’s not true. He’s very good.”

He shrugged, trying to take the shine off her words.

A waitress came and took Cornell’s order.

“So why’d ya follow her, Captain?”

“I just said I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I know what ya said.”

“Miss Quick, if my brother says—”

“Mrs. West, I’m a detective, and it’s my job to detect. That’s what I’m doin.”

“It’s all right, Myrna. Actually, the detective is right. I did follow you.”

“Why?” She looked shocked by his giving away the show like that.

“Because I promised Porter I would. He’s worried about you.”

“Worried? I can’t imagine why.”

Walker reached out a hand to cover Myrna’s. He patted it gently.

“He knows, dear, as I do, how frail you are.”

What the deuce was up? “I thought you didn’t like how Mr. West treated his wife. And she looks fit as a fiddle to me.”

“I’m referring to her soul, Miss Quick.”

He may as well have shouted I was a moron when it came to understanding people’s sensitivities.

“So you’re frail inside, Mrs. West?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. If you mean do I mourn my daughter’s death? Then yes, that’s true. This isn’t something you can understand, Cornell. You don’t have children.”

“But I
do
understand,” he said.

“Then why are you and Porter treating me like I’m a mental case? The next thing I know you’ll be wanting me to see a psychiatrist.”

“Hardly. You know what Porter thinks of them. But I must say I find it odd that you’d meet with Miss Quick by yourself. Shouldn’t Porter be consulted when the case is involved?”

I said, “Sometimes a one-on-one works better. But since you’re here, maybe ya can help us.”

The waitress put an espresso in front of the captain.

“How can I help?” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Ya can tell us exactly what Claudette told ya about Warner Garfield.”

He gave Myrna a swift, angry glance.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna drop a dime on ya to Mr. West.”

“I don’t have much to tell. Claudette thought she was in love with Warner Garfield. I decided it was best not to tell Porter since the fellow was an actor. I knew Myrna wouldn’t prevent Claudette from seeing him.”

“Did ya ever meet Garfield?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Claudette didn’t want me to for some reason. I assumed she thought I’d find him wanting and never pushed her for an introduction. I never thought it would go so far.”

“So far. Whaddaya mean?”

“Claudette was pregnant, so obviously it must’ve been Mr. Garfield’s child, wouldn’t you think?”

“Did you know she was pregnant before she died?”

He hesitated a moment. “Claudette told me everything.”

“And you didn’t tell me, Cornell?”

“I’m sorry, Myrna. I couldn’t. I knew it would destroy you.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Destroy me.”

“Well, what would you have done if you’d known?”

Without a moment’s thought she said, “I would’ve sent her abroad to have the child and then given it up for adoption.”

Myrna West was far from frail, it seemed to me.

“You wouldn’t have wanted her to have an abortion?” Cornell whispered the last word.

“Of course not.”

“Your friends must know someone reliable,” he said.

“Certain people do. But I don’t happen to believe in that.”

“Did Claudette?” I asked him.

“Believe in abortion? I don’t know.”

“So what was she plannin on doin?”

He lit another cigarette although he still had one burning in the ashtray.

“She didn’t know what she was going to do.”

“Did she wanna have it?”

“No. I mean, she did, but she didn’t know how to tell Myrna and Porter.”

“Ya know, Captain, earlier ya said ‘obviously it musta been Mr. Garfield’s child.’ Do ya remember sayin that?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t ya know? Didn’t Claudette tell ya who the father was?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Didn’t you ask?” Myrna said.

“I never questioned Claudette. She told me what she wanted me to know.”

“And she didn’t want ya to know who the father was?”

“Apparently not.”

“Didn’t ya wonder why?”

“I think she was afraid I might do something.”

“Somethin like what?”

“Fly off the handle at her foolishness, perhaps.”

“What exactly does that mean? Do somethin violent?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe she thought I’d confront the father. Garfield.”

“Weren’t you curious, Captain?”

“Of course I was. I’ve already said that. But what could I do? It was obvious that she didn’t want me to know. Do you think he did it?”

“Who?”

“Whoever the father was.”

“Might be,” I said. “Wouldn’t be the first time a pregnant mother was murdered by a boyfriend who didn’t wanna play proud papa. Think of
An American Tragedy.
”

“That’s a novel.”

“So what? Novels say a lot a true things.”

“Now you’re a philosopher, Miss Quick?” Walker said.

“I’m a reader. But let’s not get sidetracked here. Ya brought up a good point, Captain. If we could find out who the father was of Claudette’s baby, we’d probably find out who killed her.”

Myrna said, “Well, Cornell’s right. It must be this Garfield man.”

“We’ll never know.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because he’s dead.”

Myrna’s gloved hand flew to her mouth.

Walker said, “How do you know?”

“I found the body. But let’s not get into that.”

“You make it sound like he was murdered, Miss Quick,” Myrna said.

“He was.”

“Wait a minute.” Walker said. “This doesn’t make sense. Somebody kills Claudette months ago and now kills the father of the baby?”

“Then Mr. Garfield couldn’t have killed Claudette, could he, Miss Quick?”

“He
could
have, Mrs. West. But I don’t think he did.” I weighed telling them more about Garfield and Claudette’s scheduled appointment with him the day after she was murdered. But I had a feeling the less I told, the better it would be. For what, I wasn’t sure.

“Who killed Garfield?” Walker asked.

“Don’t know yet. It just happened.”

“It had to be someone who knew he and Claudette were connected, don’t you think? Someone who knew he was the father of her child?”

“Anyone come to mind?”

“I think it takes us right back to Richard Cotten,” he said.

“Does it? Ya think Claudette told him she was pregnant by another man when she wouldn’t sleep with him?”

“How do you know she wouldn’t . . . sleep with him?” Myrna asked.

“He said so. And he was pretty upset about her bein pregnant, which I told him. He didn’t know before that.”

“And you believe him?”

“Why shouldn’t I believe him? He and Claudette split several weeks before she was murdered. It was a mutual agreement.”

“That’s not what she told me,” Walker said.

“No? What did she tell you?”

He waved his hand at the waitress. “Anybody want another?”

We both said yes.

Then he made a circling gesture with his hand ordering our coffees and settled into his chair like he was about to tell us a long story.

“Claudette told me that she’d tried and tried to get Richard out of her life, especially when she’d fallen in love with Warner. But he wouldn’t let her go.”

“What’s that mean,
wouldn’t
? How could he stop her?”

“He threatened her. He said if she tried to leave, he’d kill her because he couldn’t live without her.”

“Wait a minute. How come ya didn’t tell the police that at the time of the murder?” I asked.

“For one thing I wasn’t here. I was in South Carolina. Parris Island.”

“But you came home for the funeral, Cornell.”

“That’s true.”

“So why didn’t ya tell the cops then?”

“I did.”

“But you never told us,” Myrna said. Her voice had gone up a register.

“I didn’t want you to know then how much I knew. I thought the police would handle it. It’s not my fault they could never get anything on that boy.”

I made a mental note to check with Marty as to how much Walker told the cops.

Myrna turned to me. “Does anyone know why Mr. Garfield would’ve been murdered?”

“The investigation’s just beginnin, Mrs. West.”

“It has to be Richard,” she said.

“The cops’ll shake him down for an alibi on Garfield’s murder.”

“Oh, he’ll have one. He’s very smooth,” Walker said. “So you found the body. Again. In a movie you’d be the first suspect.” He smiled, making his perfect looks more so.

“Yeah. I would be. But this isn’t a movie. And anyway, I’ve got no motive.”

“Technicality,” Walker said, laughing at his half-baked joke.

“How about you, Captain? Ya have an alibi for Garfield’s murder?”

He stared at me.

“Let’s see. I remember the first time I met ya, you said ya loved your niece. And you’ve just told us how she confided in you. It wouldn’t be outta left field to think you’d wanna avenge yer niece’s murder.”

“Loving someone doesn’t mean you’d kill for them, Miss Quick.”

“Sometimes it does.”

“Well, not this time.”

“Can’t take a joke, Captain?”

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter.”

“Really?
You
just joked about it . . . sayin I might be a suspect in a movie. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, like they say.”

He gave me a glorious smile. “You’re right. You have me there.”

“By the way, Captain, did Claudette ever give ya a set of cuff links?”

“Cuff links?”

“Cornell, she did. This past Christmas.”

“Oh, that’s right. She said they were for me when the war was over. Beautiful things, too.”

“They were,” Myrna said. “Jade.”

After finishing his second espresso, Cornell said, “Well, Myrna, I think it’s time to go.”

She looked at him like he was loony. “I didn’t come with you, Cornell.”

“I know, dear. But you’re going to leave with me. It’s for the best.”

It was pure and simple blackmail. “Go ahead, Mrs. West, I think we’re finished here. Thank you for seein me.”

Myrna gave a slight nod and stood up.

“Goodbye, Miss Quick,” Walker said.

As they got to the door Myrna turned her head and gave me such a down-in-the-dumps look I almost went after her and hauled her back. But I knew there’d be no point. Then they were gone.

I sat sipping my cap and smoking a cig. So Walker believes Garfield was the father of Claudette’s baby. Not cause she told him but cause he thinks he’s put the puzzle together. And that Richard’s the killer. Even though Richard had no idea Claudette was sleeping with someone until after she died.

And I felt about Richard as I always had . . . no passion.

Why would Claudette tell her uncle that she was in love with Warner Garfield? He was an actor, and no one, including Walker, would approve of him. But she told others, like Richard and June, that she thought Garfield was a creep who wouldn’t leave her alone. And why use Alec/Leon to cover seeing Garfield when she was probably using Garfield to cover her real lover?