John Goldbach - The Devil and the Detective

Despite Elaine’s obvious exasperation, this was the first time I was hearing the story in full. The night before, when we were drinking, she didn’t want to talk much about the case and I respected her decision because her husband had just been murdered and I was falling for her.

‘We’re just trying to be thorough, Mrs. Andrews,’ said O’Meara. ‘We want to make sure we have all the details straight.’

‘I know, and I appreciate that, but my story hasn’t changed since last night, or this morning, for that matter.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Andrews, I know you’re under a lot of stress, but you and I haven’t spoken yet today,’ said O’Meara.

‘Right, but I did talk to the officer this morning,’ she said.

‘What officer?’

‘I don’t think he ever gave his name. The one who was taking photos of Gerald’s desk. The one who was riffling through the files. The one who harassed me.’

‘Mrs. Andrews, I’m sorry, but I didn’t send an officer here this morning,’ said O’Meara.

‘Then who was it? Who was in my house?’

‘I’m not sure but we’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry, Mrs. Andrews, we’ll take care of everything,’ he said.

I looked at O’Meara and told him he was doing a bang-up job so far.

‘Shut your trap, Rick! What have you done? Where were you this morning?’

‘O’Meara, you jackass, you should have someone watching the house. Her husband was murdered here last night. What were you thinking, that because they spared her last night no one will come back? You should have a squad car out front round the clock.’

‘Don’t tell me how to do my job, Rick. I’ve got everything under control. Mrs. Andrews, not only am I going to put a man out front, I’m going to have a man in the house at all times, starting tonight. I’ll have someone sent over now.’

‘Thank you, Detective O’Meara, but a man out front will suffice. Mr. James will be staying here this evening, so there’s no need for an officer in the house.’

‘Are you sure, Mrs. Andrews? Rick here’s just a private dick. He’s not exactly a trained professional. I bet you he doesn’t even carry a gun — do you, Rick? Do you have a gun?’

‘Yes,’ I said, lying, ‘but not on me.’

‘I rest my case,’ said O’Meara.

‘Thank you for stopping by, officers. Good evening,’ said Elaine.

‘All right, I’m putting a man out front, though.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, and they left.

With her back up against the shut front door Elaine said, ‘I was really hoping it was the food.’

We returned to the kitchen and finished off our beers, which were no longer ice cold.

I said to Elaine, ‘I know you’re sick of talking about this stuff but eventually you’re going to have to fill me in on the details I don’t know. I need all the details of the story, from A to Z.’

‘I know. You know most of the story already. Gerald and I ate together, at home, and then he went out, and when he came home he called out to me and I called back and then I fell asleep and you know the rest …’

‘What did you eat for dinner?’

‘Sorry?’

‘What did you and Gerald eat for dinner? Did you order in or did you cook or did — ’

‘We made dinner together. A simple pasta, a penne arrabiata, nothing fancy, a lot of garlic and a lot of chili peppers.’

‘Did you drink?’

‘Yes. We split a bottle of red wine, a Chianti. It was good. I drank more than Gerald, which wasn’t uncommon.’

‘So you ate dinner and then he went out immediately thereafter.’

‘Not immediately, no. He went to his den and was on the phone for a while. I brought him an espresso. He likes espresso after dinner. I mean, he liked espresso after dinner. I don’t. It keeps me up. I finished the wine.’

‘Did he tell you where he was going?’

‘No. But I didn’t ask. He just said he’d be back in an hour and I said okay and then he was gone. I finished my wine and then got into bed and read for about half an hour and then I heard the front door open and shut and Gerald called out to me and I called back and I fell asleep and I woke up and then found his body and so on and then I got drunk with you and so on and then a police officer, who probably wasn’t even a police officer, basically harassed me this morning, while I was suffering a terrible hangover, and then a crank caller kept calling me and then you came here and then that asshole O’Meara came and asked the same goddamn questions over and over again and I feel like I’m going crazy,’ she said.

‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause you any additional anxiety, you know. I want to help you but it means knowing everything you know about what Gerald was up to. Do you know who he was talking to on the phone?’

‘No. I have no idea.’

‘Did he seem upset when he left?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Did he go out in the evenings often?’

‘Sometimes, though never for long. I didn’t keep a leash on Gerald, and for that matter, he didn’t keep one on me. Or at least I wouldn’t let him.’

I wondered what that meant. Did it mean she had a lover? I wanted to ask and I think she knew that I wanted to ask. I was silent. I was thinking about the possibility of Elaine having a lover (or lovers , plural). For some reason, despite her beauty and the age difference between her and Mr. Andrews, I hadn’t considered the possibility that she in fact had a lover (or lovers). I believe I paled. I should ask her, I thought, for it pertains to the case. If she has a lover, of course, he’d be a suspect, and so would she for that matter. I looked at her. Her wide-open brown eyes were looking straight at me. She knows what I’m thinking, I thought. She knows that I’m speculating about her sex life, I thought. It was pertinent to the case. I needed to know. I needed to know if she had a lover or several or none.

‘Do you have a lover?’

‘Is that really pertinent to the case?’

‘Undoubtedly,’ I said.

The doorbell rang. It was the delivery guy from Mou Gui Fang, with our food.

The food was incredible, like Elaine said it would be. The shrimp, the rolls, the soup, the Kung Pao Ming Har, the vegetables, especially the vegetables, which had been pan-fried, pan-fried in a sort of spicy soya sauce, I thought, but wasn’t sure, being no chef myself, though I have a few dishes. I love water chestnuts, too, though eat them only when I eat good Chinese food. I ate ravenously but Elaine didn’t eat much. We drank more beer while we ate and Elaine had wine, too. ‘Eat more,’ I said to Elaine, and she ate a little more, though mainly vegetables. The vegetables were incredible, and I wanted more, too, but she finished them off, which was of course fine. Since I’d asked her if she had a lover, we hadn’t said much to each other. That was fine, though, because I wanted her to eat something, but, of course, I kept wondering, wondering about a lover, but the food was so good that it briefly calmed my cursed imagination. When I was finished eating, however, I immediately imagined her with some young guy, someone athletic and vacuous but fun to fuck, as far as she was concerned, someone to fool around with when the old man was away, or perhaps even around, I thought. I felt jealous and angry, then looked at her, at her beautiful face, while she ate vegetables, and I hated myself for feeling jealous and angry, especially because I didn’t even know her till yesterday, I thought, yesterday evening, when I took a cab to her home after she called me re the case. She was beautiful and I was lonely and something inside of me ached, gently at first, but persistently, and I realized I was making an expression of frightened and sad concern. My forehead furrowed, my eyebrows on strange diagonals, I confronted my feelings for Elaine and realized they’d bring me more hurt and heartache, for they already were, that is to say, already bringing me hurt and heartache. I feel like a jealous lover, I thought, but I’m only her private detective.