Jeff Sherratt - Guilty or Else

The clerk tried to straighten his uniform shirt while backing away. “Don’t bet on it, asshole,” he said.

I arrived at the office early Friday morning. Rita wasn’t in and I needed a cup of coffee. I saw the new coffee pot sitting there, gleaming with its buttons and lights and all its automatic doohickeys. You’d have to be a mechanical engineer to fire the thing up. I didn’t even know where you were supposed to load the coffee. Or even if I knew, how much would I have to put in the thing? Great, I thought, I don’t even know how to make a cup of coffee anymore. If I touch the pot, it’d probably blow up in my face like everything else. The hell with it; I decided to head over to Dolan’s Donuts. I ordered two glazed and a large coffee to go.

I put the bag in my car and shot back to the office.

I was starting on my second donut when Rita came through the door. She had on tight jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of Mickey Mouse, one arm around Minnie. Mickey had his other arm raised, and two of his fingers formed a V. The caption under the cartoon said, Make love not war.

I glanced up at Rita’s angelic face. She had the type of complexion that didn’t require make-up, and she wore very little. It gave me a boost to see her cheery smile.

“Hey, Boss. Want some coffee?”

“I have some, but thanks anyway.”

She saw the printing on the cup and arched an eyebrow. “When we have time, I’ll show you how to work the coffee pot.”

“Thanks, but first we have to prepare a discovery request. We have to find out about Rodriguez’s cellmate. I’ll need to break him down on cross. Prove he’s lying.”

“We’re out of discovery forms. In fact, we’ve never had any.”

“Yeah, I know, never needed them. You can pick up a few at the legal stationery store on Firestone. Ask Mike the owner for some carbon paper, too.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out my bankroll. I gave half to her. “Here’s a few bucks, should be enough.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Rita said. “I’ll fill out the discovery forms, but you tell me what you want to say, what to ask for. Then later, I’ll show you how to work the coffee pot.” She smiled. “Who knows, maybe you’ll want to make the coffee now and then.”

“You went to law school. Use your own words on the request.”

“What about the coffee pot?”

“Forget about it,” I said. “Oh, after you’ve filled out the forms, don’t forget to serve them on the D.A.’s office. Then file the papers with the clerk at the court.”

She turned to leave. “See you in a bit.”

“Wait,” I said. “I’ll need some cash.” I’d need money for the fundraiser at Chasen’s. Although the dinner was paid for, I’d still need a few bucks for parking and maybe a tip or two. “Bring me the checkbook. You can stop at the bank on your way back. I’ll sign your paycheck now, too.”

“I used the balance of the money you gave me from the racetrack winnings, to catch up on the back rent and telephone. And now, after my pay, we’ll have less than two hundred in the bank,” she said as she laid the book on my desk. “And your car insurance bill is in the drawer.”

“The insurance company can wait; somehow they’ll make it without my check. Might have to hold off on building a new skyscraper this week, though.”

“Boss, you’re crazy, but nice.” She flashed me one of her world-class smiles.

“Rita, I just thought of something. When I was in the Sav-On the other day, I saw a Phillips mini-tape recorder on sale. It’ll fit in my briefcase, and it comes with those new cassettes.” She gave me a bewildered look. “Pick one up on your way back from the bank. Okay?”

“How much?”

“Sixty bucks.”

“Jimmy-”

“I know, but I’m meeting Welch tonight. It cost Sol a lot of money to set it up and I want to record the interview.”

“Do you think the senator will let you tape him?”

“We’ll see,” I said.

“Are you going to tell him he’s being recorded?”

“We’ll see.”

“You’re the boss.” She sighed.

I signed the checks. Rita left just as the phone rang. I answered it. “Law office. O’Brien speaking.”

“Hi, remember me? Tracy Spencer, Ron Fischer’s girlfriend? Remember you talked to me the other day at the apartment?”

“Yes, Tracy, I remember.”

“That’s my stage name, Tracy Spencer, get it? Spencer Tracy, the movie star. I wanted people to remember my name, but then he died…” Her voice trailed off, probably a moment of silence in remembrance of her fallen namesake. “I guess I’ll have to change it again. What do you think of Hoffy Dustman?”

I took a sip of coffee. “What is your real name?”

“Bertha Weems.”

“What can I do for you, Tracy?”

I felt sorry for her. I knew her boyfriend, the pilot, was most likely gone for good. I knew firsthand how it felt to be lonely. However, with her looks and her job, I also knew she wouldn’t be lonely for long.

“You seemed so nice the other day I thought it would be okay to call you.” I reassured her, and she continued: “Yesterday I got a postcard from Ronnie. He said everything is okay. He’s got a temporary job, didn’t say where, said he had to leave town for a while, but not to worry, he’d be back.”

My hand started to shake. The coffee splashed on my desk. I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

“Mr. O’Brien, are you there?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m here. By any chance did you notice the postmark on the card?” I tried not to show my excitement.

“No,” she said.

My heart sank. “Do you still have the card?” Holding my breath, I crossed my fingers.

“I put it in the drawer. Do you want me to get it?”

I exhaled. “Yes, that would be nice.”

A few seconds later, she told me, “It was mailed from Las Vegas, but I’m confused.”

Las Vegas! I had to call Sol fast and tell him where to start looking. But I tried to remain calm. “Sounds like he’s okay. Why are you confused?”

“I came home from work last night and noticed Ronnie’s El Camino was broken into. And I think someone went through his apartment too. The door was unlocked. But I know I locked it after I dropped off his clothes. You think I should call the cops?”

Cops, my God! They’d arrest him before I could get the answers I desperately needed. “No, don’t call them,” I almost shouted.

“Why?”

“Oh, I’m sure it was just kids fooling around.” It bothered me that it had become so easy to lie.

“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Remember, Tracy, you said he had some trouble in the past. I don’t think he’d like the cops snooping around.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Now listen to me. This is very important. Do not, I repeat, do not tell anyone about the postcard or this phone call. Do you understand?”

“You sound scary. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but your boyfriend is hiding out for a reason. We don’t want to tip off anyone that might be out to harm him.”

“You think he’s in trouble?”

“Yes.”

“Will you help him?”

“If he asks me, I’ll help. But first I’ve got to find him.” We said goodbye and my hand trembled as I hung up the telephone.

I immediately dialed Sol’s office number. It was still too early for him to be in, but Joyce said he’d be there shortly. I left a note for Rita. I told her I was going to Sol’s office and she could start filling out the discovery form. I’d review it when I returned.

I ran to my Corvette. If Karadimos found Kruger first, he’d disappear for good. Sol said Kruger had been a bartender before he was a pilot. A bartender, I thought as I drove.