The Blue Note Read online

  “Damn,” Bone said.

  “Damn, is right,” I said as well. “I knew I smelled a rat.

  “You right, Dirk, smells pretty bad and all the way to the mayor’s office.”

  “Thanks Hattie Mae,” I said tossing her a five spot, that she quickly stuffed down in her potato sack outfit.

  “You sure you boys don’t want a drink?”

  “No!” We both said as we headed out the door to Bones old Chevy. We could hear her laughing hysterically all the way out to the car.

  We piled in the car and headed down that long dusty road back to civilization, not knowing whether we knew any more than we did, but we had some hunches to think about. I was just about to nod off to lullaby land when T-bone suddenly nudged me. “Dirk, Dirk, look at dat up ahead.”

  “What, what?” I said trying to clear Mr. Sandman out of my eyes. There was a car coming down the old road toward us. An old gray Ford, like one of those G-men cars. The fact that there was another car on this deserted stretch of dirt was odd enough, but all of sudden the passengers opened up the back door and kicked what looked like a body out on the ground adjacent to the road into some high weeds. “Holy crap! Did you see that Bone?” I said as I watched the car turn around and head back in the other direction stirring up dirt so thick we couldn’t see the car any longer.

  “The hell was that?”

  “I don’t know but it looked like those gentleman tossed a body out of their car.”

  We pulled to the spot where the body was tossed, jumped out and ran over to investigate. Sure enough it was a body. A older Black man with a white beard and hair, bleeding from his mouth, his face looked like he had gone through a meat grinder.

  “Oh God, It’s Hezekiah Jones.”

  The man was alive but just barely. “We’ve better take him with us to town, Bone. He needs a doctor.”

  “No, no doctors. We best take him to Hattie Mae’s. These people don’t cotton to big city doctors too much round here. Help me get him in the car.”

  After getting him securely in the back seat we headed to Hattie Mae’s. It was against my better judgment, but I had to go with what T-Bone thought we should do, after all these were his people. We pulled up in front of her place, I started getting Hezekiah out of the car as Bone was knocking on Hattie’s door. Luckily he was able to walk with my assistance and I managed to get him to the door just as she was opening up with a strange look on her face.

  Decided, ya’ll wanted that drink after all?” She started to laugh when she noticed Hezekiah. “Ole my God! Get him in here, quick. Ole my Lord. What done happened to this old man?”

  “We don’t know ma’am. A car load of men just dumped him on the side of the road.” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Help me get him in the bed over there. You boys go on and get the hell out of here. There’ s liable to be folks ’alookin’ for ya’ll. Besides it’s gonna be dark pretty soon. Go on and git. Don’t fret, I’ll take care of this old man.”

  She didn’t have to tell us twice. We headed out to Bone’s old Chevy in a run. We road in silence for a little while but there was a question that had to be asked. “Who was that old man?”

  Bone sat silent for a few moments and finally said, “He’s a friend of Hattie’s. She’s been knowing him for forty years or more. He works as a gardener for the mayor up there at his big ole mansion in Chickasaw Gardens. But why in the world would they beat that poor old man up and dump him in the road like a bag of garbage, I don’t know Dirk, I really don’t know.”

  “Well, I got a stinking suspicion the old man saw something up there at the mansion he wasn’t supposed to see and they decided to put the fear of God in him to make sure he wasn’t going to tell. That’s what I think.

  “You think he saw Michele up there Dirk?”

  “I don’t know but I sure want to find out.”

  T-Bone dropped me off at my place so I could get some rest before my shift at the Blue Note. I had a bad feeling that whole Voodoo thing was a smoke screen and now I knew for sure. Tomorrow I would put a tail on our good friend Mayor Dennison.

  Chapter Ten

  I opened the door to my place and went and lie down on my bed without even bothering to take my clothes or even my shoes off. I was dead tired way down to the bone but for some reason I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I kept seeing that old man’s face beat to a bloody pulp. I didn’t even want to imagine what they were doing to poor Michele.

  Finally drifting off to sleep I had a terrible nightmare as a result of bad hamburgers and scary stories courtesy of T-Bone. I found myself in the middle of a Voodoo ritual, a human scarifice. There was chanting and drum beating and a Priestess in a colorful outfit was casting a spell. The chanting and the drumbeat grew louder and louder. The room began to spin round and round. The noise was deafening. The Priestess raised her huge knife to strike the killing blow. I suddenly realized it was Hattie Mae and the human sacrifice was me. I screamed.

  I woke up in a pool of sweat shaking. “What the hell? Damn T-Bone and his Voodoo stories.”

  Feeling like ten miles of bad road and looking almost as bad I decided a shower was in order. I stripped of my clothes and threw them in the pile in the corner that was getting pretty big by this point.

  A shower was just what the doctor ordered. I let the water run till it turned from hot to cold, hoping the water would rinse away the eerie feeling that had come over me ever since I found out about Michele. I was in love with the girl, there was no doubt, and it scared the hell out of me that something bad might have happened to her. “I’ve got to find her,” I all but yelled. “Where the hell is she?” I didn’t know but I wasn’t going to rest until I found out.

  I took a look at my cheap Timex laying on the dresser and realized it was almost time for my shift at the Blue Note. I started to call in sick but thought better of it. As crappy as I felt I knew I would feel even crappier laying around my joint alone all night worrying. Besides somebody at the club might have heard something. I dug around through my dresser drawer and found one old clean shirt and found a pair of pants and a jacket in the closet. Note to myself: “Do your laundry.” Yeah, but not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

  Arriving at my post around eight I was relieved to see there was no fisticuffs or any other mischief going on, of course it was still early. A small group of Memphis elite had started to trickle in, dressed to kill, noses in the air, looking at me like I was the hired help, which I guess I was. I could hear T-Bone and the boys playing every time the door opened but their melodic sounds only succeeded in depressing me more. I kept hoping Michele would suddenly appear like nothing had happened and take the microphone and sing like only she could, but she didn’t.

  The whole day kept running through my mind like a motion picture. There was something I was missing but for the life of me I didn’t know what. Someone had planted the phony Voodoo evidence at Michele’s, but who and why? The old man we had found in the road and taken to Hattie Mae’s, did he see something he shouldn’t at the Mayor’s house? Maybe we should go back there and interview him and see if he did in indeed see something. But maybe the whole thing was just a smoke screen. “Hell if I know. I need a drink.”

  All was quiet at the door so I ventured inside to grab a quick brew. I hoped my asshole boss didn’t see me, ‘cause I really wasn’t in the mood that night. I went to the bar and ordered a cold one and took a seat in a stool next to a sexy blond that was sitting all alone in a tight, low-cut evening gown, swirling down a martini. She looked like she had drank more than one and was in a pissed off mood for some reason. “Men, you’re all alike. You only think of yourselves. What kind kind of man keeps a lady waiting for over an hour.

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know ma’am,” I said hoping she would shut the hell up.

  “You wouldn’t keep me waiting would you?”

  “No ma’am.”

  “Do you think I‘m pretty?” She slurred, almost fal
ling off her barstool.

  I decided I had heard enough of her story and made a quick exit over to a table in the corner, just as Bone and the band was finishing up their set. I motioned for him to come over. He sat down, pouring sweat, wiping his mug with a dirty handkerchief he had pulled out of his back pocket. “What’s the haps Bogart?”

  “Nothing much Bone. Just sitting here hoping I can find some answers in the bottom of this glass of beer?”

  “See any yet?”

  “No,” I said laughing, but it was a sad laugh. “What we going to do, T-Bone?”

  “Why the hell you asking me? You Mr. Big Time Detective from Los Angeles.

  “Shut up. That doesn’t help.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Well I was thinking we should back to Hattie Mae’s place and see if we could talk to that old man. See if he really did see anything up at Dennison’s place.”

  “I don’t know, Dirk. If’n he did see anything, he’s not going to tell us. He too scared. Yeah, they done scared that old man plenty. He ain’t gonna talk.” Bone said, pulling a square out of his pocket and lighting it. “Smoke?”

  “Thanks, I thought you’d never ask.”

  “We got to do something.”

  I glanced at my watch and saw it was almost eleven. “Got to get back on the door. Guess tomorrow we’ll take a little drive up to Chickasaw Gardens and see what our good friend the mayor is up to. Pick me up at ten at my place.”

  “Will do Dirk. I got to get back to work myself. Later.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bone picked me up at around ten and we hotfooted it over to the ritzy-titzy, swank part of town where the big time mayor of the fine city of Memphis, Tennessee lived. My head was fuzzy and cluttered with cobwebs, but luckily Bone had a thermos of black coffee that was almost thick enough to eat with a fork, but I gladly accepted a cup and took a sip. “That’s good. Good coffee.”

  “You really like my coffee, Dirk?” Bone said sporting a big smile, showing his pearly whites.

  “No. But it’ll sure as hell wake me up. That’s for sure.” I said wincing, taking another sip.

  “So what’s the plan, my man?”

  “It’s elementary, my dear Mr.Phillips. We are going to go on what is called in private eye jargon, a stake out.”

  “What does that mean Dirk?”

  “We’re going to sit outside the mug’s dump all day and see if we see any strange going ons. Namely, Michele, being held against her will.”

  “That’s the big plan, huh?” Bone asked looking at me funny out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

  “That’s the plan. You just worry about getting us there.”

  The sign said “Chickasaw Gardens,” Bone hung a right, we went down the street a couple of blocks and there it was, the mayor’s big mansion on the hill. It was the biggest house on the whole block with a fine manicured lawn and a huge gate that blocked the entrance to the driveway that winded up to his huge estate. It looked like one of those big white columned plantation houses I had seen pictures of back in slavery times. I had no doubt slavery was still practiced around these parts and at this particular residence.

  “Wow!” Bone said, marveling at the magnificent spectacle in front of us. “Would you look at this place?”

  “This mayor is one fat cat, that’s for sure.”

  “More like a fat rat, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, and I hope we catch this rat eating the cheese today.”

  “Do you really think she’s in there, Dirk?” Bone asked

  “We shall see, my man. We shall see.”

  We both sat there drinking coffee and looking at the house for what seemed like an hour in relative silence. In truth it was only ten minutes and as of yet we hadn’t seen a thing.

  “Damn this is boring Dirk?”

  “That’s a stake out for you. Hours of boredom, followed by hours more. And maybe, just maybe you might actually see something.”

  “Did I ever tell you the story about how I ended up in Memphis?” I said hoping to break the monotony.

  “No. You said you’d tell me some day, but you never did.” Bone said cracking a smile.

  “Well my friend, this is your lucky day.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “You know they call Los Angeles the city of angels, Bone. I always thought that was a load of crap until she walked into my office one day. What a dish, I can tell you. Angela Divine was her name, a walking apparition from heaven, reincarnated in human form. Long blond hair, deep blue eyes, a figure to die for with legs that seemed like they went on forever.”

  “I was sitting behind my desk smoking a cig, blowing smoke rings in the air and poking my finger through them. I had spent the last two hours tossing rumpled up paper at trash can, and doodling aimlessly on an appointment calendar, that occupied the top of my otherwise empty desk. I don’t want to say business was slow, but slow would be an improvement over nonexistent, which was the real state of my affairs.”

  “I heard a knock at my door.” I said, “come on in the door’s open.”

  “And there she was, standing in my office. I thought I dreaming at first.”

  “Hello, my name is Angela Divine.” And let me tell you, her voice was the sweetest sound I ever heard. She said, “I’m in trouble and need the help of a good private eye, but I’m afraid I don’t have much money.”

  I stood up, being a gentleman and offered her a seat. “Please, sit down Miss Divine or is it Mrs.”

  "She sat down and sweetly said, Oh, it’s Mrs".

  " So I says, if you’re in trouble, why not go to the cops, instead of a private dick?”

  “I’m mixed up in an affair, I really don’t want the police involved in, she said. And if my husband finds out I’m a dead woman.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, sounds like something I shouldn’t get mixed up in or I might end up dead,” I told her.

  "But then she started with the water works, you know how that is T-Bone. Please Mr. Bogart, you got to help me. She said, tears streaming from her beautiful blue eyes. I didn’t stand a chance."

  “Okay, tell me your story. I’m not promising anything mind you, I said."

  “She goes on to tell me about this mug named Lance O’Brien that she had met at a night club. She threw down a few drinks with this Lance and before she knows it, she’s over at his house doing the horizontal mambo, if you get my drift. Did I tell you she was married?”

  Bone, nodding about half asleep mumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you said she had a husband. The one that would kill her, I believe you said“

  “Right.”

  “Anyway, so she ends up spending the night with this lug. Can you believe it? And without a care in the world or so her story went, the next day they decided to go on a picnic in Echo Park. That’s a park in L.A. by the way. So they’re drinking wine and eating sandwiches when this Lance character decides he’s got to go and take a whiz. While he’s answering his call of nature somebody snatched him and she never seen or heard from him again. She’s frantic, saying she’s got to find him, cause she’s in love with him, can’t live without, I’ve got to help her.”

  “So what you think, would you have taken the case?” I asked Bone. “Bone?”

  “I don’t know. Probably so. I’ve been known to do some crazy things for a pretty lady myself.

  “Yeah well, I of course did take the case. She was pretty, like you say. But also she had an envelope full of cash, and I like I said, I really needed the work. So I took the job.”

  “She gave me an address where this Lance O’Brien was supposed to live. The address she gave me turned out to be a vacant lot for Christ’s sake. I went to his job where she said he worked as an accountant. They said they never heard of the bum. I was starting to smell a rat, a two legged one, like this dame wasn’t exactly on the up and up."

  “How come you didn’t just give up the case Dirk?” Bone asked, so I had to clue him in.r />
  “She had already paid me in advance. Besides I wanted to find out why this dame was giving me the run around. Also, did I mention she was quite beautiful?”

  “Oh, all right, gotcha Dirk.”

  “Anyway, so I gave a friend of mine who was a member of the L.A. cop shop a jingle. He owed me a favorite from back in the days. Just so happen I had a glass in my possession with a perfect set of her finger prints. I forgot to mention, I gave her a glass of water, that’s how I got her prints, you see. Hopefully she was on file and I could find out who she was. As luck would have it, she was. You won’t believe who she turned out to be. Go on and guess Bone.”

  “I don’t know, Dirk. You telling the story.

  “Her real name was Maria Demucci, an ex-stripper and wife to a notorious mob hit man by the name of Vinnie “the pick” Demucci. He got his nick name from his choice of murder weapon. He liked to get up close and personal with his victims. I knew I had a bad feeling about this broad. But was I scared? I’ll have to admit I was, but for some reason I still wanted to find out why she was giving me the run around.

  “So I got her address from my buddy and decided to stake her house out. Sooner or later she was going have to come out, so I figured when she did I’d follow her. Great plan. I thought so at the time, but later on not so much. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  “Look, look,” Bone said, pointing at the front door of the mayor’s mansion.

  None other than the mayor himself came out of the front door with his partner in crime, Pauli Salvatore, and I mean they were thick as thieves, engaged in a heavy conversation on their way out to the the driveway where a black Lincoln Town sat. They stopped for a minute, finished their conversation, Pauli got in the back seat and the black car took off down the driveway heading our way. “Duck, Bone.” I quickly said as the car pulled out on the street and peeled off without even noticing us or at least I hope they didn’t.

  “Maybe we should follow them,” Bone said.

  “No, we better keeps eyes on the house. Besides they would notice the tail in this neighborhood. Your car doesn’t exactly fit in, sorry.”