Hal Ackerman - Stein,stoned

“Duluth, this man did not get you in trouble. Tell him what he wants to know about that piece of paper.”

Stein was suddenly apprehensive that once again all his instincts had been wrong. “Is there something I should know about this piece of paper?”

Morty surrendered. “Hell, I guess you already know. I suppose you talked to Delores Brown.”

“Why would you think I did that?” Stein asked.

“I’m being straight with you, man. Don’t treat me like a boy.”

“Let’s talk about you and Delores, then.”

Edna Greene retreated to the back room and Morty nodded for Stein to take a seat. “You ever work on a loading dock? I’m guessing probably not.”

“Is this going to be one of those long stories with poignant sociological implications?”

“The job sucks, all right?”

“That I can relate to.”

“So they make me a supervisor. For an extra buck-thirty an hour I keep records on everything that comes in and goes out and bring all the records down to Accounting.”

“I’m on a bit of a time crunch.”

“In accounting there is a particular fox they just hired who wears pants so tight you can see her smile.”

“Downtown Delores Brown?”

“So we have this little rap going and one afternoon she sashays up to the dock. She says she locked her keys inside her car, and did anyone know how to, you know, open a door with-”

“I get the idea.”

“As it turns out, I possess a little experience in that area, so I volunteered to help.”

“Anyone could tell at first glance you were an altruist.”

“Only trouble was, a shipment of bottles was due in the next twenty minutes and it’s my responsibility to sign them in.”

“I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this, Morty.”

“It gets good before it gets bad.”

“You went with Delores and helped her gain entry.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“You found her ignition key?”

“All right, Mister Stein,” Edna called in from the next room. “The point is made.”

The sexual innuendos made Stein gloomy, not eroticized. “Just so I can feel as horrible as possible, Morty, are you telling me you weren’t there when the shipment arrived? That you had somebody else sign the manifest with your name?”

“No, man. I signed the paper. But…”

“But what?”

“But before the truck ever got there.”

“So you never actually saw the merchandise?”

“Oh, I saw the merchandise.” Morty grinned.

“I’m talking about the bottles.”

“You wouldn’t be if you saw Delores.”

“Duluth!”

His mother’s scolding voice straightened him up. “I never saw the bottles,” Morty admitted. “But I’m sure they were there. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“And how many bottles were in this shipment?”

“A hundred cases. Times 24 in each case.”

Stein perked up. “Did you say a hundred cases?”

“That’s right.”

“Not a thousand?”

“A thousand? Hell, no!”

“Swear on your life that it was only a hundred.”

“It was a hundred cases, man.”

Stein was inwardly relieved. This brought it back down again to the trivial.

“That time,” Morty added.

“Excuse me?”

“There were a hundred cases that time.”

“There were other times?”

“Delores would come down there every now and again.”

“Let me take a wild stab. When there were shipments of Espe shampoo bottles?”

“I didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Morty, damn it. Have you and your little partner from the track been scamming up Espe shampoo bottles? Trucking them out to Palm Springs?”

“Naw.”

“I noticed a sharp little Mini Cooper down in the driveway. What happened to your Ford?”

“I traded up.”

“You could wear that thing on your foot.”

“It’s surprisingly roomy.”

Edna Greene came in from the back bedroom. “That’s Roland’s car. He borrowed Duluth’s truck. How much trouble is my son in?

“Him? Nothing. He’ll do twenty years in state prison and then get on with his life. Me, I have to tell Mattingly he was right.”

She pulled her son’s collar down so he was at her eye level. “Du-luth Greene, did you have anything to do with moving those bottles?”

“No, Mama, I didn’t.”

She released him and turned to Stein as though she had proven the irrefutable existence of gravity. “He had nothing to do with moving any bottles, Mister Stein. He stepped aside with that woman. That was all. Can you trust that I’m telling you the truth?”

“What court of law could argue with the my mama says I’m innocent defense?”

“We’ll deal with court when we have to,” Edna Greene said. “Right now I want to know if you believe us.”

“Against my better instincts, I do.”

“Then you can call me Edna.”

Stein pushed a couple of bills into Morty’s hand. “I want you to stay in a motel for a couple of days ‘til I get this straightened out.”

Morty pushed the money back at him. “Hey man. I don’t need your damn twenty dollars. I hit the seven horse.”

Before Stein could insist, the LAPD patrol car pulled into the driveway. Moments later Stein watched dolefully as Morty was read his rights and taken down the steps in handcuffs. “I told them not to do this, Edna. I’m going to fix it. Don’t worry.”

“That’s Mrs. Greene to you.”

“Stein!”

Penelope Kim’s voice sang out his name in a parabola of delight. Stein had knocked on her door to see if she’d walk and feed Watson in case he didn’t get back from Palm Springs in time that night. There was something different about her: her long black hair was brushed to a sheen and the clear outline of her breasts delineated themselves beneath her silk blouse. There was a touch of color on her lips and a line that accentuated the depth of her eyes.

Stein apologized. “This appears to be an inopportune time.”

“Come in,” she chided. “You look so forlorn standing out there in the rain.”

“It’s not raining.”

“You make it look like it is. Come in.”

“I get the feeling you’re expecting someone.”

“I am. He’s here. It’s you.”

“What’s me?”

She pulled him inside. The room vibrated with the heady aroma of smoldering sage and the pure tones of koto and flute from her stereo.

“Penelope, I don’t want to get in the way of whatever ceremony you’re performing here. Can I ask you to do a favor for me?”

She smiled at him as though she were privy to all his past lives. “I know where you were last night,” she intoned. “I know why you missed your party.”

Last night seemed ages ago. Stein tried to remember where he had been and where he had said he had been.

“You weren’t counting shampoo bottles, my sweet mendacious mentor.” Penelope undulated the newspaper in front of him. Its front page carried lurid pictures of Nicholette Bradley’s murder scene. “Stein, you covered her body! You preserved her modesty. You’re like a knight of the Round Table.”

“What are you talking about?” It was a weak denial. He enjoyed the praise.

“I never would have thought of that for Klein. I’ve underestimated your depth.”

“Why would you think I was there?”

She engulfed him under a silken, feathery aura of affection. “You can’t hide from me, Stein. You know that I see the events outside the bands of visible light. You were there with her. I smell her on you!”

“Look, you’re in a weird kind of mood and I have to-”

She stood in his way. “You made love with her, didn’t you? You had sex with her right on the floor.”