Jeff Sherratt - Detour to Murder

Thirty minutes later, after hoofing it to Sol’s building, I was ushered into his office by Joyce, his private secretary.

Sol, sitting behind a desk the size of New Hampshire, glanced up at me when I entered. He waved his hand and pointed to a leather armchair facing him. A man, dressed in a white uniform, stood in front of the desk holding a pink box.

“Have a seat, Jimmy. I’ll be with you in a minute.” He faced the guy in white. “What do you mean, you’re bringing me crumpets?” Sol asked.

“Your secretary said I was to give them to you myself.” The man, obviously a baker, placed the pink box on Sol’s desk.

“She didn’t have the courage to bring me the damn things herself,” Sol said, lifting one of the porous yeast cakes out of the box, holding it up gingerly between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. He handled it like he had a dead mouse by its tail.

Sol opened his fingers and the crumpet dropped to his desk. “Where are my goddamn apple fritters that you’re supposed to deliver every morning?”

The baker answered, “Mrs. Silverman called earlier, sir. Said you’re on a diet and to change the standing order to crumpets instead of fritters. She also said, well sir, she said…” His voice tailed off.

“What else did she say?” Sol demanded.

“Aw, well, she said…”

“C’mon, tell me, damn it.”

“That you’re too goddamn fat.”

Sol cracked up.

As soon as the baker left, I took one of the crumpets out of the box. Sol sat in his desk chair and peered at me while I ate it.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t come here just to eat a crumpet.”

“I didn’t know you were going to have crumpets.”

“Look, Jimmy, we’ve been friends a long time and I can tell when something’s on your mind. Maybe I can help.”

“Yeah, Sol, I got a little problem. But I’m not going to bother you with it.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yeah, sure. You just happen to pop in here, nothing to do today, so you thought you’d say hello. And, what the hell, as long as you’re here, may as well eat a crumpet. Is that it? Is that what this is all about?”

“I thought you’d have fritters-”

“Jimmy, goddammit, out with it.”

Just because Sol and I worked together on legal cases didn’t mean it wasn’t hard for me to ask him for help on personal matters. But, I had nowhere else to turn and I knew he’d be there for me.

I hung my head and said, “My phone’s been disconnected.”

“You didn’t pay the bill?”

“Nah, that’s not it. They think I’m a bookie.”

Sol started to laugh, harder this time. “Well, hell, that’s not a bad idea. Christ, you could make more money than you do now if you just took my action.”

“Sol, that’s not funny.”

“Yeah, sorry. But why would the phone company think that you’re in the gambling racket?”

“I think it had something to do with my car being repossessed.”

“Jesus, you’re car was snatched, too.”

“Yeah, by a bank that’s owned by the Haskell Foundation.”

He leaned back in his chair, interlocking his hands across his belly. “Obviously Raymond Haskell’s behind your tsores .”

“That’s what I figure.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t threaten billionaires in public restrooms, Jimmy. I figured you would’ve known better.”

“But, Sol-”

“You have chutzpah , my friend. I’ll say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Chutzpah, it’s Yiddish, means-”

“I know what it means. But we were both there at the dinner. Haskell wanted to meet us in the restroom. You said we should-”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s a putz and I’m glad you read him the riot act. He moved forward in his chair. “I’ll handle this stuff for you. But, that’s it, right? Nothing else going on?”

“Yeah, Sol, that’s it.”

“Okay, no problem. But, goddammit, Jimmy. When things like this come up, call me right away. That’s what friends are for. I’ll never forget what you… well, you know.”

“Do you really think you can get my phone back on? They said I’d have to go to the PUC.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, like I’d question the obvious. “You hide and watch,” he said, as he buzzed for Joyce.

Her voice came over the intercom. “Do you need something, Sol?”

“Yeah. Get in touch with our guy at the phone company and tell him I want Jimmy’s office phone turned back on, and tell him I want it on right now!”

“Will do,” Joyce said and clicked off.

“Thanks, Sol.”

“A lawyer without a phone is like a monkey without a banana.” He chuckled, then said, “By the way, my friend Vince returned my call. He’s on his book tour right now, but will be back shortly. He’s wants to meet with us as soon as he’s in town.”

“Vince?”

“Vincent Bugliosi.”

“Oh yeah. With all that’s been going on I almost forgot about him.”

“He has some info that might help you get the DA, Joe Rinehart off your back.”

“Rinehart’s not on my back. It’s all over as far as he’s concerned. He’s the one that decided to cut Roberts loose.”

“Doesn’t matter. We have to meet Bugliosi. The guy’s doing you a favor.”

“Of course, I’ll meet with him. I’m kind of curious anyway about what he’s got.”

He handed me a black box about the size of a cigarette pack. “Here take this with you. Carry it at all times.”

I held the gizmo, looking it over. It had a small switch and red button on the top. “What the hell is this?” I asked.

“It’s a Motorola Pageboy beeper. It’ll beep when I need you. And when it does, get back to me right away. I’ll beep you when Bugliosi calls.”

I tucked the Pageboy in my jacket pocket. What’ll they come up with next? I wondered. Whatever it was, Sol would be the first to have one.

“It’s very expensive,” he said. “Cost three hundred, plus a monthly service charge. Don’t lose it.”

“Sol, I’m not going to lose the goddamn thing.”

“Well, you lost your goddamn car.”

“I have to rent something, until-”

Sol reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a set of car keys and tossed them to me. “Take one of the company’s Chevys. Use it until I can spring your car.”

“Thanks. What can I say?”

“Just leave a little gas in it. And don’t bang it up.”

I stood and started to walk toward the door but stopped. “Thanks again, Sol. I’d better head back to the office…”

“Hey, what friends are for?” Sol said, peering closely at the crumpet on his desk, pushing it around with his finger.

“There is one more thing,” I said.

“Yeah, what?”

“Can you run a plate number for me?”

I took care of thebank, draining the last of my emergency fund to cover the checks Mabel had written. At least we were now current on most of the bills. I took some comfort in that thought. But I worried about new cash coming in. Without Judge Balford’s court-appointed cases there wouldn’t be enough money to keep the office open.

By the time I made it to the office the phone had been reconnected. Good ol’ Sol. I checked it as soon as I walked in the door. Mabel wasn’t at her desk, but she’d left a note: “Our phone has been disconnected, so I took my work home. I don’t know what’s going on. I hope their check didn’t bounce. Jimmy, I’m worried.”

I crumpled the note and tossed it in the wastebasket. A moment later Rita walked in.