This Dame for Hire (33 page)

“Let’s get somethin straight. You can fire me all ya want, but I’m not leavin just yet.”

“I’ll call my doorman.”

“Nah. I don’t think ya wanna do that. If ya do, I’ll have to tell him what I know and then he’ll have to tell your neighbors and it’ll get real messy.”

I believed that Porter didn’t know of Garfield. But I was stalling for time. I heard the front door slam. Footsteps down the hall and then the appearance of Cornell Walker.

“Miss Quick,” he said. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Why would ya?”

“I wouldn’t.” He smiled and cocked his head to one side. “So why
are
you here?” He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured some whiskey over ice. Then he looked back at me. “You’re not drinking, Miss Quick?”

“That’s right.”

He sat down in a wingback, crossed his legs, and looked at me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I think I’d like to ask you a question, Captain.”

“All right.”

I opened my pocketbook and took out the piece of paper Dolores had given me. Then I handed it to him. “This yours?”

He gave it a glance. “Yes. I’m glad you got it and sorry I missed you.”

“Ya have a lousy signature.”

“I do, don’t I?”

Porter said, “What’s going on?”

“I went to visit Miss Quick this afternoon, but she wasn’t home, so I left a note with a very nice woman who was cleaning the hall.”

“What kind of a note?” Porter asked.

“The kind that says I was there,” Walker said. “What’s all the—”

A buzzer sounded.

Myrna said, “That’s from downstairs. The doorman. I wonder if we have another visitor.” She scurried outta the room.

I hoped it was Marty cause I wasn’t sure I liked how things were going.

Myrna poked her head in. “Are you expecting a Marty Mitchum, Miss Quick?”

“I am.”

“All right then.” She disappeared.

Walker said, “Who’s Marty Mitchum?”

“A detective friend of mine.”

“A boyfriend?” He smiled and winked at me.

I wanted to give him one across the chops. But I didn’t think that would accomplish what I’d come here for.

“No. Not a boyfriend. A colleague.”

“I see.”

“Why is he coming here?” Porter asked.

“Remember when I first came in, ya asked me if I’d solved the case and then ya fired me before I could answer? Well, yeah, I’ve solved the case.” I hoped like hell that was the truth.

Walker said, “How great, Miss Quick. Tell us.”

“I will. But I have to speak to Detective Mitchum first.”

Myrna came in with Marty, who was without his hat. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen him bareheaded before. She introduced him to Porter and Walker.

“Take a seat,” Porter said. “The more the merrier. Want a cocktail?”

“No thanks.”

“Detective, ya got somethin for me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“If you’ll excuse us for a minute.”

“Do we have a choice?” Porter asked.

I ignored his remark, and Marty and I went into the hall.

“So?”

“You were right.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Gimme a name.”

“Corporal Edward Dunne.”

“How’d ya do this over the phone?”

“I got my ways.” He gave me a grin. “Threat of a court-martial is a great convincer.”

“Swell. Okay, we’re goin back in there. Be ready for anything.”

“I always am.”

We went back, and I sat in my chair and Marty sat on the other end of the sofa.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I said.

“What’s this all about?” Porter asked.

I saw that he’d made himself another martini. “Captain Walker, ya wanna tell me why ya came to my apartment?”

“I wanted to see you. Is that so strange? You’re a very attractive young lady.”

“Ya always make it a habit of tryin to break into ladies’ apartments?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dolores, the one who gave ya the paper, said she saw you tryin to get into my place with a key.” I wanted to throw him off balance before I got to the big stuff.

“Well, she was mistaken.”

“She’s not usually mistaken.”

“She was this time.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then she’s lying.” He took a slug of his drink.

“Nah. Not Dolores.”

Myrna said, “What’s going on here?”

“I’m tryin to establish why the captain was attemptin to break into my place.”

“But he says he wasn’t.”

“Yeah. I know what he says. Okay, let’s let that one go for now. How about this? Are ya accustomed to callin on young ladies without makin a date? Ah, never mind. Dolores said ya looked like Cary Grant.”

“That’s very flattering but not accurate.”

“I think it’s the cleft in your chin that made her think that. It’s what made me know it was you, crummy signature or not.”

Myrna said, “Why are you harassing my brother, Faye?”

“Oh, so now it’s Faye,” Porter said. “I knew you two were plotting something.”

We both ignored him. I turned back to Walker.

“Does the name Edward Dunne mean anything to you?”

“Of course. He’s assigned to me.”

“A loyal guy, huh?”

“Yes, why?”

Sweat popped out along his brow and across his nose. “So loyal that when the cops checked out your alibi for the night of Claudette’s murder, Corporal Dunne said you’d been there all night, didn’t he?”

“I had been.”

“No, Captain Walker, you hadn’t.”

Marty said, “He admitted to me half an hour ago that you weren’t there that night.”

“Well, then he’s lying.”

“Everybody’s lyin. Ya notice that, Detective?”

“Can’t miss it.”

“Everybody is lyin except the captain.”

“Why would Cornell lie about where he was?” Myrna asked.

“Because he killed your daughter, Mrs. West.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

All three of them rose to their feet. Porter was a little wobbly, but the other two stood at attention.

“This is outrageous,” Walker said.

“Why would Cornell kill my daughter? His niece?” Myrna said.

Porter said, “I think we’ve had enough of this. You’d both better leave now.”

“Not yet. I think you three should sit down.” Surprisingly, they did.

“Cornell,” Myrna said, “tell them you didn’t have anything to do with this. He was in South Carolina when it happened.”

“No, Mrs. West. He wasn’t. He was in New York with Claudette tryin to convince her to go through with the abortion she had planned for the next day.”

Walker laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Marty asked.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I think Porter’s right. You should both leave.”

“C’mon, Cornell. We’re just gettin started here.”

“Myrna, buzz the doorman,” Walker said.

She didn’t answer, and she didn’t move.

“Then we’ll have to call the police.”

“I
am
the police,” Marty said.

Walker was starting to look desperate around the edges. I flashed on him in his uniform and realized that that’s what had been nagging at me the night Birdie and I went to the USO. The uniforms were telling me something then, but I wasn’t hearing.

Myrna said, “We called him in South Carolina the next day.”

“What time was that?”

“I don’t know. Everything was still so confusing and awful.”

“It was late in the afternoon,” Porter said. He seemed to be sobering up.

“Plenty of time for the captain to get back to Parris Island. What did ya tell Corporal Dunne when he learned your niece had been killed the night before?”

Marty said, “I can answer that one. Walker told Corporal Dunne he’d had a rendezvous with another captain’s wife that night, so Dunne never put the two things together.”

“This is getting more absurd every minute,” Walker said.

“Is it? See, I know ya went to see Warner Garfield to arrange the abortion. When I heard the initials CW had been crossed out in Garfield’s book two weeks before, I thought they stood for Claudette West and that she’d decided against it, then changed her mind, rescheduled for January twenty-first when the CW appeared again. But now I know the first set of initials stood for Cornell Walker, and Garfield had crossed them out because you’d been there, made the arrangement, and paid him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Walker said.

“I think I do.”

“Even if that’s all true,” Myrna said, “why does that make my brother a murderer?”

“I’m sorry to tell ya this, Myrna, Porter, cause this whole case is rotten enough, but Claudette’s unborn baby was Cornell’s. Claudette was in love with him, and they’d been havin an affair. But then she got pregnant.”

Myrna was crying softly. Porter looked shell-shocked. Walker was trying to hold my gaze.

I went on. “Claudette had agreed to the abortion at first and then changed her mind. So Cornell had to get himself up here to try to convince her to have it. When she wouldn’t agree, he killed her.”

Walker laughed again.

“Why do you keep laughing, Cornell?”

“Sorry, Myrna. I’m laughing because she has it so wrong.”

“Wrong?” I asked.

“Yes, wrong. It’s true I made the arrangement and gave the money to Garfield, but—”

Myrna’s gasp cut him off.

“I’ll kill you,” Porter said, trying to rise, but Marty held him back.

“Go on,” I said.

“
I’m
the one who didn’t want her to go through with the abortion. That’s why I came up here. To convince her
not
to have it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I loved her and I wanted her to have our child. I’d agreed to the abortion in a weak moment. But her death was an accident, I swear it. We were walking along in the snow, arguing, and she kept on insisting she was going to have the abortion. I grabbed for her, and she slipped and went down, hitting her head on a cement step. She was dead. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hittin her head on a step couldna caused all that blood,” I said.

“It didn’t. That’s right, but I had to make it look like she’d been murdered so I . . . I smashed her head against the step until there was enough blood to make it look like a real attack.”

“Ya know what, Cornell? You’re still lyin. People don’t bleed after they’re dead.”

His stare at me was cold. Those eyes glinting like chips off an ice block.

“Ya might as well admit what really happened cause we know ya killed Garfield, too.”

“Really? How did I do that?”

I couldn’t tell him about the undershirt and what Anne experienced when she’d held it in her hands and how the battle scenes were cause Cornell was in the Marines even if he never saw action.

“I’ll leave that to the DA. I’ll just say this. We know Garfield was blackmailin ya cause he’d put two and two together.”

“He was scum.”

“I agree with that,” I said. “So what really happened with you and Claudette?”

“She was willful and disobedient. She insisted on going through with the abortion, so I smashed her against a building. No one was around.”

Myrna was crying. “It’s unbearable.”

“You’re the scum, Cornell, that’s who’s scum,” Porter said.

“I wasn’t going to have my child ripped from her.”

So he killed them both himself. It wasn’t logical, but then murderers often aren’t. Especially when there’s passion involved. I read that in a book.

I nodded at Marty and he stood up and crossed the room.

“Stand up, Walker.”

He did. Marty turned him around and clapped the cuffs on him. “Let’s go.”

I wanted to comfort the Wests, but I didn’t know how. There wasn’t any comfort for something like this. They’d have to find their own way out of it.

If they ever could.

It took me a little while to feel clean again. But I wasn’t sure how long it would take to get rid of the sick feeling I always got when I thought of the West/Walker case.

The day after Walker was arrested I got a call from Detective Johnny Lake.

“I hear you broke the case,” he said.

“I guess so.” I felt like a rat treading on his toes like that. But what was done was done. He could hate me for the rest of my life. I was sorry it hadn’t worked out with him, but I knew I’d get over it.

“Why didn’t you call me when you went up to the West apartment?”

“It’s not a very nice reason.”

“That’s okay.”

“I didn’t think of it.”

He laughed.

“At least you’re honest, Faye.”

When he said my name, I felt tingles.

“I’m always honest,” I said.

“Were you honest about why you broke our date?”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Then maybe we can try it again sometime.”

The “sometime” line, I thought.

“Sure,” I said. I knew I’d never hear from him again.

“How about Wednesday?”

That hit me like a bombshell. “Ya mean the day after tomorrow?”

“This is Monday. So the day after tomorrow. Right.”

I wanted to shout my yes, but I said it just as casual as I could.

“I’ll pick you up at your apartment at seven, if that’s all right?”

I didn’t have any pressing engagements or cases, so I said, “That’s fine.”

By five to seven on Wednesday he hadn’t called to break the date. I was looking swell and feeling like a million bucks even though my insides were doing a tap dance. I took a last look in the mirror, and then the bell rang.

Hubba-hubba!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

S
ANDRA
S
COPPETTONE
has written numerous other novels, including three under the pseudonym Jack Early. Most recently she created the five-book series of mystery novels featuring New York private eye Lauren Laurano. Scoppettone lives on Long Island in New York.

B
Y
S
ANDRA
S
COPPETTONE

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