Chapter 2
The bed also gave me an impressive perch to view from. I was on the second floor of an eight unit building that looked like a Motel Six from a certain distance. It was situated on a hill overlooking the rest of the block which was the best part of living there.
During the day I could see through the branches of the trees and view all the other houses along the street. The sky lit up like an overhead floodlight and gave the place a desert sheen even in winter. I could watch the cars and the people and their pets go by like I was watching a big screen movie, imagining myself above everyone else like I was master of the estate and they all worked for me. I’m not delusional; I just like a little fantasy now and then. It gets me out of bed on my worst days.
An old, worn out, polyester carpet runner that had followed me around various addresses stretched out across the room from the door entrance. A Tiffany style chandelier with one cracked pane and antique aspirations hung above the door at the entrance. It wasn’t worth much, but it certainly added a little class to the place. There was some old stereo equipment stacked up against the wall along with a TV set I purchased with a loan from an old girlfriend, which I never paid back. We broke up before I had the opportunity, but I saw it as just compensation.
Most of my belongings were old. I hadn’t been much of a consumer for quite a while, and it was beginning to bother me. I had a long list of items I wanted to buy just to keep up with everyone else. It gets to the point that you fall too far behind and start feeling like you’re in a parallel, Third World universe. It gets pretty hard on your self-esteem.
Homer was standing in the middle of the room, wagging his tail and slowly retreating towards the other end of the apartment. He had a guilty look on his snout, and I had a tendency to lose it at the sight of his mistakes like a well- meaning but angry father.
But at the moment my head felt like it was squeezed in a vice, so I made nice just to prevent the blood from coagulating. I even apologized to the bare walls for not coming home earlier and walking him at his proper hour. Homer seemed grateful and his sulking ended when I stroked his thick yellow mane and patted him on the head. Nevertheless, I still had to clean up his mess.
I was hungrier than I thought, so I decided on a steak, which I threw in the oven along with a large potato. I got out a can of peas for my salad and opened a bottle of beer, which I quickly guzzled down in turn. I was low on bourbon, so I poured what was left in a glass and ran it down, too. I was a nervous wreck and my head was still pounding, so I reached in the fridge for another beer. I started knocking that back too, but I went easy this time, savoring it like some expensive champagne.
I stared down at my arm, it was scratched up and I had what looked like a bite mark on my neck, too. I must’ve run into Dracula back at the apartment. It seemed like someone tried playing a practical joke, but that blonde sure looked dead to me.
I settled back on a small couch and slipped into a kind of meditation. I fixated on a tree branch just outside the window and started counting the pine bristles scratching up against the glass. I got up to ten when the phone rang, scaring the hell out of me.
“Hello?” I said hesitantly, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Did you get the address?” The gravelly voice sounded rushed.
“Hi, Cal.” It was my mentor, the old gumshoe, calling for an update on the blonde, no doubt.
“Well, did you get it?”
“Got it, no problem.” I wasn’t yet sure if I should report what I just went through, I couldn’t believe it myself.
“You watched her walk in the door?”
“Not exactly.”
“Wadaya mean? Either you saw her or you didn’t.”
“I didn’t see her walk in the door, but I saw her inside the unit. I know where she lives, Cal. I got all the info.” He stayed silent. “What’s next? I’m hungry for more action.”
“What?” He roared back. “You didn’t see her walk in the door, but you saw her inside her condo? What the fuck are you talking about?”
I was trembling as I tried to put voice to my words. “I think she’s dead, Cal,” I blurted out. “I saw her lying on the floor in her apartment. She wasn’t moving. Then I got knocked out before I could identify her.”
“Are you shittin’ me, Klayman?”
“Why would I shit you, Cal?”
“How’d you get in?”
“The door was open.”
“She’s dead, huh?
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t check?”
“She wasn’t there when I came to.”
“She just disappeared on you, is that it?”
“I know it sounds crazy, Cal, but that’s it in a nutshell.”
“Just forget it. You never saw her.”
“She might be dead. Shouldn’t we go to the authorities?”
“Hold your horses, Klayman. Who told you to go in there in the first place. You know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat?”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
“You better learn to if you want to live another day in this business.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“I’ve run up against this before. Her buddies caught you snooping and wanted to give you a run for it. They were trying to scare you off. She’s probably having dinner right now at some fancy restaurant. Don’t sweat it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Just forget it.”
“I wish I could forget this headache. Boy, they really gave it to me, Cal.”
“If you want to be in this business you better get used to it.”
“Does this happen often?”
“Of course not,” he roared again. “As long as you listen to me. I’m gonna make sure of that.”
“That suits me, Cal. I feel like I’m in way over my head already.”
“This business is unpredictable. You could be chasing down an errant husband one day and then find his wife in some other guy’s bed the next.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Take it easy, kid. You’re just getting started. I got some more work in store for you. Just don’t go snooping where you shouldn’t. Call me back tomorrow and we’ll talk about it. I’ve got a list of things for you to do before you earn your stripes.”
“I figure I earned some tonight.”
“Just keep your shirt on, Klayman. You’re not ready to take on a client. Figure out how to tail someone before you move on to the next step. You just work with me a while and you’ll learn something.”
“Sure, Cal. But I don’t like gofer work.”
“Gofer work! Now you just hear me out if you know what’s good for you. This is a dangerous business; you better know what the fuck you’re doing before you go out there tailing someone.”
His voice had that Godfather edge to it, which sounded awfully phony. But everyone thinks they’re in the movies around here.
“Okay, you’re right,” I confessed. “But Cal, I’m not prepared for these situations. Say I come across some lug who doesn’t like my face and wants to start in, or some prank like they played on me tonight.”
“Just keep your distance. You’ll be all right. And don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong. You’re not packin’ heat, are ya?”
“I’m wondering it might be a good idea for insurance, for peace of mind. You know what I mean?”
“You’re going around with a gun?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Get rid of it, for crissake. You don’t need it, not now. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing yet. Listen to me, Klayman. Get rid of it.”
“I told you I’m not carrying. Didn’t you hear me the first time?”
“Get rid of it.”
“But Cal, what if some guy wants to plug me for following him around with some broad? Life’s cheap around here. There are monsters on the street. People get killed in this town every day.”
“Put your gun in your drawer and keep it there, for crying out loud. Nobody’s gonna kill you if you keep your distance.”
“There was blood all over her floor, Cal! And I saw it on the walls, too. That girl might be dead.”
“Boy, are you easily fooled. It’s tough, kid, I know. You’ll get used to it. Just put the gun away for now.”
“I’ll do that, Cal. I will. I’m just imagining things.”
“Relax, you had a rough day. You’ve seen a lot. Most people never go through what you just experienced. You’re doing fine, otherwise. I’ll talk with you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Yeah, Cal, we’ll talk again tomor... .” He hung up. The guy sure had no manners.
I sat there holding an empty can of beer while I fingered the bump that was still growing at the back of my head. I got up and poured another drink out of a half empty vodka bottle that was sitting on the fridge, then considered the advice Cal had given me.
My gut feeling told me he was absolutely right. I had better be careful around this town. These Hollywood clients paid extremely well to tame their insecurities. They want to know what the wife is up to during business hours when they’re raking in the dough, who she’s screwing while they toil away at some production meeting. And they want to know what their shady business associate is up to behind their backs, or whether some hit man is trailing them. They pay very well for this sort of information. One small mistake and I might end up at the bottom of a trashcan the next time out.
The early morning wakeup call from the district’s sub desk seemed like a distant memory to me now. I fell on the bed like a log, ready for a good night’s sleep. A full moon beamed brightly through the blinds; you could use a pair of visors around here, even at midnight. I thought about ditching the gun my next time out. It’s not too wise to be walking around such a litigious town like this with a piece of hardware in your pants. If the cops don’t get you, the lawyers will.
It was past ten. I needed to get some sleep for another early morning wake-up, but I kept thinking about the strange sequence of events: the young blonde in her Beemer, her shapely legs sticking out the bedroom, the blood stained floor and walls, Cal’s dismissive explanation, and the phone that was going to ring at six in the morning.
There was a hell of a lot on my mind, including a long day of substitute teaching ahead. That job was a real albatross, but there was no way around it. I was lucky this town had school in session all year long. It worked well with my game plan and kept those eviction notices happily off my door.
I rolled over and finally slipped off to sleep; this time it was easy as turning a dial. But the acrid smell of burned meat suddenly came streaming up my nose, jarring me out of my brief repose. I shot out of bed and pulled the charred steak out of the oven, brushing my hand against the hot grill while I was at it. The steak was black on the outside, but a poke with a fork to inspect below the surface gave me some hope of eating it one day.
I wrapped it in aluminum foil and shoved it in the fridge along with a half-baked potato, then slid my hand under the faucet and ran cold water over it. I got back in bed in worse shape, but dreamland beckoned and I fell right to sleep.