CHAPTER 1
LET US DISPENSE WITH THE PLEASANTRIES
I woke up that morning in November later than usual. Not that it matters, nobody calls on a private eye before noon. My apartment was a mess. Not that that matters either, I’m the only one living in it. I was late, so I didn’t stop for breakfast, not even at a diner for a cup of joe. It was half past ten, and I needed to be at my office. I wasn’t expecting anybody, but a private eye has to expect anything.
Fortunately, I only live a few blocks from my office. Living near downtown Los Angeles has that advantage. On the other hand though, the rent isn’t cheap. But I can walk there in a few minutes. I don’t have to drive across town or anything, I don’t even have to get a lot of things ready before I go. Just six simple things I need, only takes me a couple minutes to gather them and walk out the door. Lucky for me too, as I’m running late today.
I’ll just throw on some clothes, don’t have time to fancy up, but then, I don’t want to either. I grab my revolver, making sure it’s loaded, and put it in my shoulder holster. I grab my flask, making sure it’s loaded, and put it in my left pocket. My cigarette case and my badge, both go in my shirt pocket. And I grab my trench coat and hat and head out the door. I could do without the badge in a pinch.
A short walk up Grand brings me to my office. Really, a short walk up Grand, and a long walk up a flight of stairs. I wish someone would fix the elevator in this joint, I hate walking up 7 flights of stairs everyday. But at last I get to my office. It’s quite a bit neater than my apartment, after all, I don’t sleep here. Well, I should rephrase that, I don’t live here, I just work here. It’s a small place though, even smaller than my apartment. Just one room, and that only large enough for my desk, a chair, and a cabinet. The desk has my files in it, the chair has me in it, and the cabinet has my liquor in it. That’s my office.
So, there I was, sitting in my office, relaxing with my feet up on my desk. Business was slow these days, but one still has to try. "Ah, this city can’t be as peaceful as it seems," I said out loud. I know nobody listens to me, nobody cares about an old private eye. Maybe because I don’t care about anything either, but I notice things. That’s my business. So, I pull my hat a little lower over my eyes, lean back a little more in my chair, relax a little more, and take in an early morning nap.
My nap wasn’t long enough though, someone walked in my door. Sometimes I might stand up to greet him, sometimes I might take my feet off my desk, sometimes I might raise my hat to see him. Not this time though, sometimes I can learn more about a man by not watching him.
I knew he walked in, I heard the door open. Apparently he thought I was sleeping, because he closed the door quietly. Fact one, he pays attention to other people, maybe doesn’t feel strongly about himself or his position here. Since I can’t hear him walking around, but he hasn’t taken a seat, he’s still standing by the door. Fact two, he’s a patient type, maybe he’s waiting for me to respond to his presence, maybe he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. I’d choose the latter, nobody walking into my office waits for me.
I can see a little of him from under the brim of my hat, he’s wearing a nice suit, must be a professional. He’s in his thirties, probably, but I can’t see his face. Medium build, medium height, an average guy in every way. He’s probably curious about his wife, I get asked about that pretty often. Many of our boys just coming back from the war in Korea are asking me. But I think I’ve learned enough quietly, time to lift my hat and introduce myself.
"Hi, what can I do for you?" Straight and direct, that’s usually the best way.
"Hello, you’re Bill Platt, Private Eye?"
"That’s the name on the door, yes," Turns the questions around on me. I’m usually the one asking questions, but business is slow, so I’m not going to argue.
"I’m John Dulouvier, I wish to hire your services."
"I know, that’s why your here. Would you like a drink?"
The drink is not so much for him to have one, but that I would have an excuse to get one. After all, I haven’t had breakfast yet. I got up and went to my liquor cabinet, getting out a bottle of scotch. He shook his head, so I only got out one glass. Fine by me though, I just want a drink.
"I would like you to follow my wife. I want to know what she does while I’m at work."
"I see, so you think Mrs. Dulouvier is having an affair?"
"No, I think she is involving herself in illegal activities."
"Oh, I see." Well, this is a change, usually following someone’s wife involved me tailing her for a couple days, catching her in a compromising position, and maybe roughing up the fellow a bit.
"Do you think you will take the job?"
"That depends, there is the matter of my fees." I wonder which one of us is the detective, he seems to be asking all the questions.
John pulled out a small wad of bills, and promptly downed five one-hundred dollar bills on my desk. "This should cover your expenses this week. I presume you’ll be paying close attention to this job."
"Five…yeah, that should do it. Right now this is my only case, after this week I’ll charge my usual fee of fifty dollars a day plus expenses, presuming you want to continue having my undivided attention."
The $500 shocked me, nobody pays me in advance. Some people don’t even pay me at all, but I have ways of getting them to pay. People hiring a private eye either don’t want the police involved, or they don’t want any attention drawn to them. Either way, if I know what they don’t want, then I can get my money. This wasn’t going to be a problem with this case though. I downed my glass of scotch.
"Yes, that will be fine. I shouldn’t need your services after this week, though."
"So your wife, how will I know her?"
"Here’s a picture of her, she always leaves my house at sometime during the day, but has always returned when I get home. I want to know what she does. My house is at 6342 Fair Oaks, in Pasadena. Don’t let her know that I have anything to do with this either. Good day, Mr. Platt."
"Yes, I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Dulouvier."
After walking him to the door I went back to my desk, poured another glass of scotch, and sat down. I certainly sized this guy up wrong. He was quite demanding, and certainly ended the conversation quickly when I started asking questions. So in addition to following Mrs. Dulouvier and learning what she was doing, I have to figure out why her husband wants her tailed. Nice looking girl though, I thought, as I finished my second drink. I don’t even know her name, and it’s my job to do that. There was going to be more to this case than it seemed.
CHAPTER 2
AN AFTERNOON IN THE LIFE OF A DETECTIVE
I’ve got a case, and it’s paying well. Five hundred dollars is pretty good for a week’s work. I don’t even know if this job will take a week, but I don’t care. If it doesn’t, I’ll take the rest of the week off. That sounds good, I’ll go down to Tijuana, maybe. Maybe I’ll just stay home, I could invite Jack Daniel’s over. That’s good company.
It’s just another day in my life, only I have five hundred dollars sitting on my desk. I don’t want to leave it laying out any more though, I’ve been lost in my thoughts for a couple hours and if I leave it out longer it may not be there later. So I pick it up and put it in my wallet. I ought to go out and spend a little bit, I’ll start working on this case tomorrow.
Late afternoon, I look in the mirror and can tell the time by my five o’clock shadow. That is, I could tell what time it was if I had shaved this morning. The clock says it’s 3:42, I need a shave. But what I really need is a drink. I comb my hair a bit with my hand. What’s left of it, that is. I’m not going bald or anything, but it’s a little thinner than I’d like. But that’s why I have a hat.
I lock up the office, head back down Grand towards my house. But I turn right on Pico and walk out a block. Well, I’m there, the Blue Moon Café. They serve food too, but I’m not hungry. I just want a drink. Maybe a few drinks, I’ve got enough cash. This place is close to my apartment, and the bartender’s nice too. Doesn’t tell me I’ve had too many when I order a third drink. He’s got a good ear too. I know these guys don’t care about my problems, but this guy sure seems like he does.
"Hello, Tom," I said as I walked in the door.
"Hi, Bill, the usual?" He doesn’t even wait for a reply before pouring the whiskey.
"Yes, and keep it coming," I say as I down the first drink. Whiskey, straight up. I like this place, the bartender knows me. He just leaves the bottle on the counter and sits down near me.
"Tough day today?"
"No, but strange," I say as I pour another glass, "This guy strolls into my office, before noon. Lays down five hundred in cash, hundreds too. Says he wants me to follow his wife for a week."
"That’s not your ordinary day, Bill"
"No, Tom," I downed the second drink almost as fast as the first, "No it isn’t. I don’t know what this guy wants, but for five hundred dollars I’ll follow his wife to Moscow. Provided he pays the expenses."
"Sounds like one of those Hollywood types."
"I don’t know, Tom, I don’t know."
"Well, you’ll figure it out, Bill."
After several hours and several drinks, I decided to go home. Actually, the bar was closing. But it was time for me to go home anyway. I had lost count of how many drinks I had, but it must have been more than I could count on one hand. Talking with Tom was almost as good as the whiskey, but maybe it was just the whiskey that was good. At any rate, we had talked about just about everything from Ike to the Yankees. It was time to go home.
I paid the tab with one of the bills I had. I guess it was one of the hundreds, because I got a lot of change. I said goodnight and left, walking back to Grand. Fortunately, I took the right path, and got to my apartment after only a few minutes. Well, I think it was only a few minutes, but I had quite a few drinks.
At home I take off my trench coat and hang it on a chair. I take off my hat and throw it on my hat rack. It lands on it, so I’m not drunk. I throw my gun, flask, badge, and cigarettes on another chair, and fall asleep on the bed almost as soon as I lay down.