Web of Deceit, page 8
part #1 of Dewey Webb Series
“What did Lester say when Edith came to live with you?”
“He wasn’t around, so there wasn’t anything to tell him.”
“But he found out about her, right?”
“Unfortunately. He showed up one day and we got into a fight. I tried to keep him out of the house. The fool thought I had a man around, and he stormed into the house and found Edith in the bedroom. She was eight months along, and there wasn’t any way she could hide her pregnancy. Didn’t Edith tell you this?”
“No,” I said.
“Lester hooted and hollered about her getting herself into trouble. I gave him what for and kicked him out the door.”
“But he shows up periodically, looking for money.”
“That’s right. The last time was about a month ago.”
“He could be blackmailing Edith.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “If he wants money, he comes to me for it.”
I shook my head. “He knows by this point that you’ll fight with him. Maybe he’s realized he won’t get any from you, so he’s going after Edith. He knows she wasn’t able to take care of herself, and that she goes to you when she’s in trouble.”
Her face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Did he know about the coin collection?”
“I don’t know. I never told him about it, but my father might have.”
“So he may know you have access to a potential money source.”
She started rocking back and forth. “Lester, if I get my hands on you.”
“What does he look like?”
She pushed herself out of the chair and went to the back of the house. I heard her rummaging around and she returned with a photo in an old wooden frame.
“I don’t know why I keep this,” she said as she handed it to me.
It was a wedding photo of the two of them. Lester wore a black suit with cowboy boots. He was tall and rather gaunt, with thinning brown hair and hollow cheeks. He had a wild look in his eyes and a smirk on his face as he held Ruby by her elbow. She wore a simple white dress with lace and a tiny veil. Her expression seemed timid and slightly apprehensive, as if she already knew what she was getting herself into.
I gave it back to her. “Do you have any idea where Lester is now?”
“A bar somewhere.” She laughed bitterly at her own joke.
“Do you think he’s here in town?”
“Most likely. I got a letter from him about a month ago. Hold on.” She went to the other room again and returned with an envelope. She took a piece of paper from it and handed it to me. It was written in a scrawl I could barely read. Lester asked Ruby to please let him come home, that he’d gotten a steady job and wasn’t drinking as much. It was signed simply, with just his name. No “I love you,” or anything else heartfelt. I pointed to the envelope.
“Is there a return address?”
She turned it over. “Yes.” She showed it to me.
“That’s off Twentieth and Larimer. Downtown,” I observed. “Not a very good neighborhood.”
“Probably all he could afford,” she said, derision in her voice.
I read the letter again. “Any idea where he was working?”
“I don’t know. All he ever did was odd jobs, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he was lying.”
I handed the letter back to her. “Did you respond?”
“No.”
“And that’s the last you’ve heard from him?”
“Yes.” She stared down at me. “If he comes around again, I’ll wring his neck.”
I wouldn’t put it past her to do just that.
“What do you know about Fred Cooper?” I asked, turning the conversation to Edith’s old flame.
“Who?”
“The man Edith was with.”
She wrinkled up her lips. “I never even knew his name, and I didn’t meet him, either. I don’t know anything about him because Edith wouldn’t tell me.” I started to tell her about what Edith had said, but she waved a hand to stop me. “I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, he didn’t live up to his obligations. He took advantage of a lonely, naïve girl and I can’t forgive him for that. He’s another one that if I got my hands on…” She didn’t finish.
“Have you heard of Sonny O’Hara?”
“Who’s that?”
“He’s the man who met Edith in the park and took the money from her.” I described him.
“He doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”
“Keep your eye out for him, and if you see him, you call me.” I took out a card and handed it to her.
She took it and then stared at the floor. We stayed like that for a while.
“What are you telling Gordon?” she finally asked.
“Nothing about this,” I said. “I’d just as soon Edith tell him about her affair. For now, I’m putting him off until I can figure out what’s going on.”
A pounding on the front door startled us.
“Come on, Ruby, let me in!” a deep male voice hollered. “I’m in trouble!”
“Oh my gosh!” Ruby leaped up.
I glanced at the door. “Lester?”
“Yes. I don’t believe this!” Accusation flared in her eyes. “Did he follow you?”
“Not that I know of.”
She ran to the door and flung it open. “Lester, get out of here!”
I went and stood behind her. Lester stood on the porch, squinting at us. He looked much older than the picture Ruby had just shown me. His hair was a bit longer and he was a lot thinner. He wobbled on his feet as he glowered at Ruby. Then he saw me.
“Who’s he?” Lester said. A cloud of alcohol breath floated toward Ruby and me.
“He’s a detective,” Ruby snapped. She raised a hand at him. “Now go on, git!”
Lester glared at us, then whirled around. He stumbled, righted himself, and started toward the street.
“Lester,” I called after him. He flung a hand at me and kept going.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Ruby. Then I bolted out the door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Hey!” I yelled at Lester.
He had made it to the street and was staggering toward First Street. He mumbled something and kept going.
“Lester! I want to talk to you,” I said.
“Who are you?” he slurred. He only had on a thin coat, and he hunched his shoulders against the cold.
“Dewey Webb.” I trotted to catch up with him.
He squinted at me. “I got nothin’ to say to you.”
I grabbed his arm and he shook me off. “What kind of trouble are you in?” He kept walking and I fell in step with him. “You need money and you want to tap Ruby for some?”
“She’s my wife.”
“Ex-wife, and she doesn’t want to give you another dime.”
“Figures,” he said. “I’m in a jam and she won’t help.”
“What kind of a jam?” I asked.
“Take a powder,” he snarled. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Are you bugging Edith, too?”
“That tramp,” he spat out. “She deserves what she gets.”
“Do you know Sonny O’Hara?”
“Beat it.”
He clamped his jaw shut and quickened his pace. We reached Galapago Street. A bus was slowing down near the corner and Lester made an awkward run to it.
“Are you living on Twentieth Street?”
“That ain’t none of your business.”
He flagged the bus and it stopped. The door opened and he stepped through the doorway without another word to me. The door closed and he was gone.
I hoofed it back to Ruby’s house. She must’ve been peeking out the window because the door opened before I knocked.
“What happened?” she asked.
I ignored that. “Why’d you tell him about me? If he’s blackmailing Edith, now he knows someone is after him.”
She turned red. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
I pointed past her, to my hat still sitting on the loveseat.
“Oh,” she said as she looked back into the room. She scurried over to the loveseat and retrieved my hat. “What’d he tell you?”
“Nothing.” I put on my hat. “He’s too soused to know his head from his tail.”
“Typical,” she said.
“What kind of trouble is he in?”
She shrugged. “How should I know? It’s better he’s gone.”
I studied her. “You haven’t seen him in a month?”
“That’s right. You saw what he’s like. Why would I want to deal with that anymore?”
“Okay. I’ll talk to him when he’s sobered up and see if he knows anything.” I turned to go.
“Thank you,” she said.
I nodded. I must’ve gained her trust. The door clicked shut as I walked to my car. I’d told Ruby I wanted to wait until Lester had sobered up, but in truth, I wanted to talk to him again while he was drunk. With a little more pushing, maybe his lips would loosen and he’d say something he wouldn’t when he sobered up. So instead of going home, I drove north on Santa Fe. If Lester went straight home, I’d beat him there driving while he was on the bus. Provided the address on Twentieth was his. Regardless, I could ask around and see if anyone knew him.
Fifteen minutes later, I turned onto Twentieth and found the address that was on the envelope Lester had sent to Ruby. It was a four-story brick building with narrow windows and fire escapes zigzagging up either side. An arc of light lit the doorway, but the small lawn in front of the building was in shadows. I parked and killed the headlights, and the street was plunged into darkness. No one was around. This was not the kind of neighborhood to be wandering around at night.
I felt for my gun, then got out and started up the walk. As I neared the door, I heard a voice coming from the side of the building. A guy in a long coat appeared. He saw me and stopped.
“You got any money?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Does Lester Klassen live here?”
“How the hell do I know?” he said, then crossed the lawn and sauntered down the street. Soon the blackness swallowed him.
I went inside the building and checked a panel of mailboxes, but they weren’t labeled. Apartment 302 had been on the address on the envelope, so I climbed the stairs to the third floor. An overhead light dimly lit a long hallway. I walked quietly down a wood floor to 302 and stopped and listened at the door. Nothing. I knocked and waited. No one answered. I put my ear to the door and listened, but didn’t hear anything. I tried the knob. Locked. I walked over to 301 and was about to knock when loud voices came from the other side. A man was yelling, and then a dame hollered back at him. I lowered my hand. I wasn’t going to interrupt whatever dispute was in progress. I tramped back to the stairs, hurried down, and went outside.
I stood for a moment in the cold and looked around. The door to a bar on the corner opened and blues music blasted into the street. The bar was so nondescript it didn’t even have a name, just a sign over the door that read “Bar.” Two men came out and the door slammed shut behind them. The music died and they started toward me. I eyed them warily, but they passed by me and toward the apartment door.
“Does Lester Klassen live around here?” I called after them.
“Yeah, third floor,” one of them said.
His buddy eyed me. “Man, what’s Lester up to?” He was heavy with thinning red hair, and he slurred his words.
“Huh?” I said.
The first guy studied me as well. “Yeah, all these snobby visitors.”
“Who’s been visiting him?” I asked.
“Aw, lay off,” the redhead growled.
They ambled inside the building without another word.
What snobby visitors had been to see Lester? I puzzled over that as I went to the Plymouth. It was now close to seven and I was tired and hungry, so I drove home.
***
Clara was sitting in the living room, holding a wailing Sam, when I came in.
“Hi,” she said in a harried voice. Her hair was disheveled and she had dark circles under her eyes. It had obviously been a long day for her. She stood up. “Can you take him, please? I need a break.”
I leaned down and kissed her, then picked up Sam. “Hey, buddy,” I cooed at him.
She nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll fix you something to eat in a minute.”
“Take your time.” I held Sam close to my chest and began pacing the room.
“Someone named Gordon Sandalwood called a couple of times. He wants you to call him back.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Clara went into the kitchen while I continued to pace, and I quietly sang him “Little Boy Blue,” an old lullaby my mother had sung to me when I was little. Sam cried for a bit more, but then he quieted down. I put Sam down in his crib, then went into the bedroom and slipped off my coat, then put my gun in a box in the closet.
I checked on Sam once more, assured myself that he was asleep, and then went into the kitchen. Clara was at the sink.
“He’s been fussy all day,” she said as she brushed a strand of hair out of her eye.
I strolled over and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re doing a great job.”
She threw me a tired smile. “Thanks.” Then she nodded toward the phone. “You’d better call that fellow back.”
“Okay.” I fixed a Scotch and soda, then sipped it while I dialed Sandalwood’s number. If Edith answered, I hoped she wouldn’t recognize my voice, since we weren’t supposed to know about each other. Luckily, Sandalwood picked up the phone.
“It’s Dewey.” I kicked out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.
“What’s going on? Have you found out anything?”
“Not yet. I’m following some leads,” I said cagily. “What’s going on with Edith?”
“She’s a wreck. She’s nervous about something, but she won’t tell me anything. What’s got her so worked up?”
“Give me a little more time, and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“I hope so.” His voice was laced with worry. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Maybe she needs to see someone – a psychoanalyst.”
“Give me a few more days before you make a decision.” Even though I’d first suggested a psychoanalyst, now I was steering him away from that idea…but I had more information than I’d had before.
He grudgingly agreed, and I told him I’d update him again soon, and then hung up. I sipped my Scotch and wondered about Edith. By the time I found out who was blackmailing her, she might indeed need some analysis because the stress would drive her to it. I still wished she would tell her husband what was happening, but I wasn’t going to push her on that. For now, I’d see what I could find out about the suspects I had.
I set my glass down, pulled a phone directory from a kitchen drawer, and thumbed through the ‘C’s. And listed there were two Frederick Coopers. One address was on the east side of town, near Lowry Air Force Base, so I figured I’d try that one first. That made me wonder if Cooper was still in the military. I’d see if I could find him tomorrow, but I wanted to have as much information on him as I could before I spoke to him. That way, if he lied to me about anything, I’d catch him. But how to get the dirt on him?
“I forgot to ask, how was your day?” Clara interrupted my thoughts.
“It was okay,” I said. I jotted down Fred Cooper’s address in a notepad I carried, then put the phone directory aside.
Clara pulled the meatloaf from the oven and then used the MixMaster to whip up a bowl of potatoes. I sipped my drink and watched her. Even after the baby, her dark brown dress complimented her figure nicely. I kept my hands to myself, though. She was pretty enticing, but I was awfully hungry. The kitchen was warm, and I took a minute to forget everything but her.
“Do you think you could get one of the neighbors to watch Sam, and we’ll go to the Rainbow Ballroom?” I asked. “And we can dance like we used to?” The Rainbow Ballroom was a popular dance hall, and the largest indoor hall in Colorado.
She set a bottle of milk on the table and smiled at me. “That would be lovely.”
We hadn’t been out in a long time. Between having a baby and my quitting the law office where I’d been an investigator to go out on my own, there hadn’t been time or money. Worry crossed her face.
“Is the job getting to you?”
I shook my head. “It’s okay.”
But I couldn’t fool her. I had been concerned lately about getting enough work. Right now we were squeaking by. I didn’t want to go back to the law office with my tail between my legs and beg for a job. I wanted to make my own business successful, but I also had to make sure I could provide for Clara and Sam.
Clara put filled plates and silverware on the table, and we ate and chatted. Afterward, she did the dishes while we talked more, and then I read the paper while she knitted and listened to her one of her favorite radio programs, Casey, Crime Photographer. But I kept thinking about her and my job. She wanted to be by my side, whatever I did, but I know the lack of a steady paycheck troubled her. I think she secretly wished I would tire of private work and go back to the law office. Someday I might have to, but I wasn’t ready to do that just yet. I still had a case to solve.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shortly before eight the next morning, I drove down Larimer Street to Twentieth, to Lester’s apartment. The street didn’t seem quite so ominous in the daylight, but that didn’t mean the neighborhood was any safer. It was Friday, a workday, and not as many cars were parked on the street as last night, presumably because most people were at work. I found a place right in front of his building and pulled the Plymouth into it, got out, and strolled up to the entrance. No one was about, and the bar next door was silent. When I went inside, it was quiet as well.
I took the stairs two at a time to the third floor and was greeted with an eerie stillness. I found Lester’s unit and knocked on the door. I waited, then banged harder, rattling the old wood door. The sound reverberated up and down the empty hall. I raised my fist and was about to knock again when a door across the hall opened. I turned around. One of the men I’d seen last night poked his head out.
