Chapter One - Pete Grappler P.I.

Pete and Sam, his sidekick and Negro trumpet player at Luigi's speakeasy, set out on a simple task for a beautiful woman, and it ends in murder....

As I walked through the door of  Luigi’s, my favourite speakeasy, nodding to Harry the Keeper at the door - perched on his high seat with his twelve gauge cradled in his arms - I wondered if I'd made a mistake coming here today - or even coming at all for the company, which was about as rough as it normally gets. The phone call to my office had been just like any number of other calls, short, mildly hysterical, and from just another broad wanting a private eye to do her dirty work with her husband and his little Charleston gal on the side. I paused in my progress, met the eye of Sam the Trumpet Player in mid-note and gave him a smile and a wink in reply to his twinkle of the eyes - yeah - Sam was something special - out of those cotton fields and into the near big time - near as a Negro could get, that is, despite his amazing talent with the trumpet and the 'bone - and we shared a good bottle of bourbon sometimes after he'd finished his gig. Sam knew everybody - and everything that went on, and was always happy for an extra sawbuck or two from doing some gumshoe work with me - I think he'd send those home to his Momma down "Loueasyana" way or somewhere - Sam would never tell but I knew he had family somewhere down there in The Deep South...... I guess he was just glad to be the one that escaped…..

Where was this damned broad? I didn't want to waste good shoe leather walking down here for a dead meet and nobody home! I was getting tired of this gig right about now... and then I saw her......and somehow I wish I hadn't ever set eyes on her, had never picked up that phone. This was trouble writ large.. and easy on the bourbon, too - you didn't need any to appreciate this little lady straight from hell! I should have turned around and walked right back out, but who ever said I had any sense, anyway?

Sam started a new number, with some damned lascivious horn music, just for me, I figured .... she was holding court right there in Luigi's speakeasy, all these bucks gathered around her like flies on horse manure outside the Mayor’s office on a Sunday morning....now what could a broad like that need a broken-down private eye like me for? Any one of those guys'd do her dirty work just for a sniff of her perfumed hand and a pat on the head for his work.. and she called me, the most-broken-down, worn-out gumshoe in Chicago with a face to match?  I touched the scar on my cheek that that German bullet had made, on what was my luckiest day, I figure. She had to have rocks in her head... maybe as big as that one on her left ring finger.. or something else to hide there.. maybe I was gonna find out... and soon..... I headed over there.... head first into one of the biggest mistakes of my mistake-filled life......

 

As I walked across the speakeasy floor towards this stunning thing that had called me out of the blue, I thought how stupid I must be looking to all those nancy boys that she had at her feet, fawning for a little handout.  Not Pete Grappler, Private Eye!  They can take me or leave me - and most of them leave - so why should I give a damn about her looks, and her obvious access to the big dollars, the inside running to the big mazoolah!  She was just another well put together broad with a problem she couldn't fix which is why she called me, and a prospective client on top of that, so why bother myself with that sort of garbage?

 

As I came to her table, the nancy boys all looked at me like I was some lowlife tossed up on the shore of Lake Superior after a winter storm, and she had the same look in her eyes as she raised them to inquire of me without saying a word " like any gorgeous broad can do asleep - why I was there at all.

 

 

 

 

"Pete Grappler, the private DICK you called earlier!"  I introduced myself.

 

Well - that got her attention.  She shooed the nancy boys away, not even offering any of them a chance at a return trip, and said to me in a smoky voice, "Sit down, Mr Grappler!  We have business to discuss!"

 

I took off my hat for the first time, tossed it on the table between us, and took a seat, lit up a cheroot just to piss her off, and looked around for Armand the waiter for a drink.  Armand - faithful Armand - was standing right there, just waiting with a glass and a half of bourbon.  Guess he hadn't forgotten the time I saved his daughter from the slum lord and his plans for getting the rent out of her at a time when Armand was out of work!  I guess he also remembered the good word I put in for him with Luigi, and the good work he got from it serving bourbon to the likes of me!  Took that landlord a while to walk again, too " I have my friends.

 

I took my drink, and my time sipping at it, and nodded an approval to Armand, who took it all in good stride and moved on to a new customer.  He’d put it on my tab.

 

Oh, I forgot to tell ya - Armand and his clan are kind of town Gypsies " and Gypsies never forget…..

 

"Well, doll", I said trying not to be too close up and personal here, since she did kinda grab my attention along with everyone else’s in the room, "I guess I'm ready to talk now.  What's on your mind?"

 

"It's my husband, Mr Grappler!" 

 

As if I didn't know that - it was always the husband!  I must have looked cynical, so she went on…

 

"Before we met, he said he was only 28, but after we were married, he turned out to be 38, and aging fast!  I'm only 22, and I want more in life than an old man!  And he's got these other women!  And he gives me no freedom myself!"..

 

Yeah -  like this was something new!  Like every damned day around here!  Hell - even I was only 29, and at least a hundred years older after my enlistment in the Marines and that little fracas in the Argonne in 1918, but why let a few facts get in the way of some free - or maybe paid - conversation with the belle of Chicago, even if she did think I was a little too old for her, too.  Long as she was paying, I'd do the listening!

 

“So...doll - what's that got to do with me?" Real tough like....

 

"I want you to find out where he goes - and who with!  I'll pay!" 

 

 

 

 

She reached FOR her sable skin handbag and started to open it. I reached across the table and grabbed her hand, "Not here, babe!  Never let these vultures see any green in your hand!".

 

I said it so cool, cool as a refrigerator ice block fresh from the iceman, but my hand was on fire and suffering like some felon taking his dose of The Chair.. shocks ran up my arm and into my body just from that touch... but I held on.. just so she'd get the point....

 

"Never flash money in these places!  From the moment I arrived, the drinks are on my tab here, fix it later!  But don't flash a wad here in front of all these losers!"

 

Armand was at her shoulder quick as lightning with a long cool glass of bubbly, and whispered in her ear " she listened and nodded then she drank it off without a flinch...

 

"All right, Mr Grappler - I'm in your hands!  I heard I could trust you, and now I know I can."

 

She held on to that electric-fried hand of mine just a little bit too long and looked so helpless as she looked deep into my eyes " yeah , she was in my hands all right - and I knew I was doomed from that moment on... didn’t even think to ask why she was here alone if her husband kept such a close rope on her…but no way did I want to get away from her - not now!  All I could think of was how she’d look as she walked away like all the rest ….that was a sight I wanted to see even if she was walking away… I guess I could live with that….

 

Told you I should never have picked up that phone....

 

“OK, doll " should I call you doll " or Mrs Somebody?  I’ll see what I can do " but I don’t come cheap!”

 

“It’s Cynthia " Cynthia Longbottom, Mr Grappler " and I wouldn’t expect you to be cheap!  How much should I pay you " as a retainer?”

 

She had that voice " ice would stay frozen in her mouth she spoke so cool " but hey " I was here for the money " not the sound of her voice sliding over ice picks, so I had to get a hold of myself, and get back to business " fast!

 

“It’ll cost you a G upfront " that’s a thousand dollars!  I know that sounds like a lot.  And it’s Pete " to my friends...” .. I held that one a little, too..

 

“That’s all right Mr Grappler, Pete " for a retainer.  I so value your expertise and your.. experience!  I KNOW you won’t let me down!  How about we make it another $500 a day?”

 

She held on to that just a little bit long, same as the hand " and I knew the hook was in.  Maybe she worked like this all the time, but it sure worked on me " I was going to give her my best shot " and she could have Mr Longbottom on a silver platter for all I cared " and take him for all he was worth.

 

I forced myself to break off eyes with her, and stood up " damn " I was sure I was shaking, but I held on and stuck with it.

 

“Sure thing, Mrs Longbottom… Cynthia!  I’ll be right on it, first thing " now " if you’ve got some idea of where I can start " I’m your man!”

 

“I know you are, Pete " I’m so glad we see eye to eye!”

 

Not the sort of eye to eye I was thinking about right then, but hell " I was only a man… I took the list of addresses " where she figured Mr Longbottom was doing his thing, and decided I’d better leave " now!

 

“Sure thing, Cynthia!  Ring me tomorrow night " about eight and I’ll give you the details of how I’m going!”

 

She smiled and nodded " what a nod " what a broad " and I pushed myself to get outta there fast " nodding to Sam on the way " he smiled and winked at me " damn you Sam " play it again, will ya!  He’d call me later and we’d work out how to go about catching Mr Longbottom with his pants down!

 

I didn’t look back " but I could feel her eyes on me all the way up those stairs, even when  tipping my hat to Harry on my way out.  I was gonna walk home, cold as it was, just to cool off a little!  As I exited the speakeasy, still near shaking from that contact with Cynthia Longbottom and the thought of that 1500 smackeroos, and paused for a few deep breaths at the bottom of the steps, I heard Harry call out behind me.

 

“Pete " wait up a minute!“

 

Harry came running " a pretty good feat for a man who is pretty short on neck and legs  but mighty big in the middle!  This had to be good!

 

“I gotta request for ya " from Mrs Longbottom.”

 

I figured that any woman who could get Harry to run like that didn’t need much help from me " she had plenty of willing help around the place… but still…

 

“Shoot, Harry " give it to me straight!”

 

“Mrs L says she is really worried about her husband " and some of the company he keeps.  Naw " she’s not askin’ ya to be a bodyguard, heaven forbid…..but she asked me to ask ya if ya could maybe provide her with a little protection piece " you know, like that .32 ya got stashed in yer ankle holster there!.”

 

Now this took some thinking about " how did she know I had that little old .32 stashed for emergencies?  This dame sure knew some things about people.. so why would she need some private dick like me on her husband’s case?

 

 

 

Harry was looking a bit upset, and blurted out,

 

“She.. she showed me some bruises she’s got on her arm, and says she’s got more on her back that ya can’t see without.. you know.  I figure she’s on the level, but she didn’t want ta tell ya straight out.”

 

Imagine Harry the Doorman going all soft on me, right then and there.  This was the guy who took down Al Faccolino when he was on a killing binge, and made the mistake of bracing Harry with a Browning  in his hand.  Not the first mistake Al ever made, but it was the last, and that shotgun of Harry’s sure made a mess.  They say it took a week to clean it all up.

 

“OK, Harry " she can borrow my back-up piece, but only until this case is finished, and tell her there ain’t no warranty or insurance on how it gets used " OK?  I don’t want no flatfoot kicking my door down to tell me I’ve shot someone I never set eyes on or anything " and I ain’t the type to be going out to take pot-shots at some friend of the Mayor like her husband is, either, so if he ends up on a slab, I know nothing " OK?”

 

I handed him the piece ,

 

“And tell her it’s fully loaded but got one blank chamber under the hammer in case " and not to try any fancy stuff with it.  If she’s gotta use it, she should just aim and squeeze, then run like hell.”

 

“Sure thing, Pete.  Thanks.”

 

Harry hustled off with my back-up piece in his hand.  Jeez … imagine Harry thanking me for giving him something for a broad.  He was like a big puppy, and I’d better watch out that I didn’t end up being the same.  No future in that.  I know dames and there ain’t no future there at all, they just use up all your White Knight armour then spit you out like a sewer pipe getting rid of last night’s storm water.

 

I headed back to my office for a couple of shots of bourbon and a good night’s sleep tucked up at my desk with a nice, warm dream.

 

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