He meant Danny Bardini, my buddy the private eye.
‘I’ll give him a call, see if he’s around and available.’
‘Then we’ll do it?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ I said. ‘Why not? Let’s take a look and see what ol’ Barney’s got.’
‘When Danny finds out where he lives, we can check that out, too.’
‘Jerry,’ I said, ‘why don’t we handle one break-in at a time.’
EIGHT
When we got back to the Sands, Jerry went looking for his cousin, and I got to a phone and called Danny’s office.
‘Hey, big boy,’ Penny said. ‘You haven’t been around in a while.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘that either means I’ve been busy, or I’ve been staying out of trouble. Is he around?’
‘He is,’ she said. ‘I’ll put you through.’
Penny was Danny’s secretary, but she wanted to be more — both professionally, and personally. Danny trusted very few people. I was one, Penny was fighting to become another.
‘Hey, pit boss,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Danny, I need your talent.’
‘As what?’
‘As a PI, doofus,’ I said. ‘What else?’
‘I thought maybe you needed help with your love life.’
‘My love life is fine,’ I said, although I almost said, ‘What love life?’
‘Whataya need?’
‘You know who Abby Dalton is?’
‘Do I?’ he said. ‘She’s that dish who plays Joey Bishop’s wife. And she used to be on Hennessy.’
‘You’ve been watching a lot of TV lately.’
‘Yeah, well. . never mind that,’ he said, because following that up might lead to questions about his love life. ‘You tellin’ me I’m gonna meet Abby Dalton?’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Here’s the deal.’
I gave it to him step by step, and he listened quietly, didn’t speak until I was finished.
‘You let the big guy talk you into breakin’ into the studio?’
‘Yep, that’s what happened.’
‘Jesus. . whataya need me for. A lookout?’
‘I need you to get over there and watch him,’ I said. ‘I want to know if he leaves with anything. And I want to know where he goes. And where he lives.’
‘Is that all of it?’
‘For now.’
‘You don’t want my help with the break in?’
‘No, I think Jerry and I can handle that part.’
‘What about where he lives? You gonna break in there, too?’
‘Well. . if we don’t find what we’re looking for at the studio.’
‘OK,’ Danny said, ‘so when I follow him home I’ll scope it out, look for the best ways in.’
‘That’d be great.’
‘And when do I meet the luscious Miss Dalton?’
‘Somewhere along the way,’ I said, ‘I’m sure that’ll happen.’
‘No, no, no,’ he said, ‘we gotta agree that it will happen.’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘somewhere along the way it will happen.’
‘You know,’ he said, ‘sometimes bein’ friends with you has perks. .’
Yeah, I thought, like meeting Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, and now Abby.
‘. . but sometimes it don’t.’
Oh yeah, like being kidnapped and tied up in a basement for days, and almost getting killed.
‘So I guess you’ll have to weigh up the pros and cons,’ I said.
‘Oh, I did that a long time ago, buddy,’ he said, ‘and you came out on top. Give me the address of the studio.’
Irwin Studios had its hours on the door, printed on a faded card. The day being a Wednesday he closed at five p.m. We arrived at five fifteen and parked, around the corner this time.
‘We can’t go in the front,’ Jerry said. ‘Even an amateur like you knows that.’
‘I’m an amateur?’ I asked. ‘When did you become a professional burglar?’
‘I’m in what you call a related profession, Mr G.’
‘I see.’
‘We gotta go around the back.’
We found an alley that led behind the strip of buildings that included the studio. There were dumpsters back there, and a few of the buildings had docks for deliveries. Lucky for us, the address numbers were on the walls.
‘This is it,’ Jerry said. It was a green metal door, which meant that breaking it down was out of the question, even for Jerry.
‘Now what?’ I asked. ‘A window?’
‘No, I’m gonna try somethin’,’ Jerry said. He took out what looked like a case for eyeglasses. ‘Lock picks,’ he said. ‘I got ’em a few weeks ago, and I been practicin’.’
He got down on one knee and inserted the tools into the lock. It takes precision to pick a lock, and I was surprised he could even attempt it with fingers the size of his.
After fifteen minutes I asked, ‘How much longer is this gonna take?’
‘I almost got it.’
‘Well, come on,’ I urged him. ‘It’s starting to get dark.’
‘Don’t worry,’ He said, without looking at me. ‘I brought a flashlight.’
I looked at him. He was wearing jeans and a windbreaker.
‘Where the hell are you carrying a flashlight?’ I asked.
He paused long enough to go into his pocket and show it to me. It looked like a pen in his big hand. He put it back and returned his attention to the lock.
After twenty minutes he said, ‘Got it.’
‘Good.’
He reached for the door and I put my hand out to stop him.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t want to find any bodies inside.’
‘Why would we find a body?’
‘I’m just putting it out there,’ I said. ‘I mean, we have a history.’
‘No bodies, Mr G.,’ he assured me.
‘OK.’
He opened the door and we went inside.
NINE
It was dusk but dark inside. In another half hour it would be genuine night.
We were in a hallway, but not the same one as last time. Jerry took out his pen light and turned it on. The beacon was remarkably bright for its size.
‘We gotta find an office,’ Jerry said. ‘That’s where he’ll keep his files.’
We moved down the hall, with me following closely behind. I was careful not to step on his heels.
Jerry used his light to find the office, off the hallway we were in.
‘We’re in luck,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘No windows,’ he said. ‘We can turn on a light.’
He found a desk lamp, switched it on, then flicked off his flashlight and put it back in his pocket. The lamp was one of those with a green glass shade, most of the light being directed to the desk top. But we were still able to see the rest of the room pretty well. The desk itself was cheap metal, with many dents and one leg shorter than the other three. The top was a mess of papers and photos. Along one wall was a mismatched collection of metal file cabinets which, I assumed, contained files collected over many years. A layer of dust covered everything, but it enabled us to see which parts of the room Irwin used the most.
‘Look here,’ Jerry said. ‘These two cabinets have got his hand prints all over ’em.’
‘And the desk,’ I said. ‘Let’s get started.’
I took the desk, and Jerry started on the cabinets. I sat in Irwin’s rickety chair and started rifling the drawers. There were two on the left, two on the right, and a smaller, center one. I started on the left, found one drawer full of papers. I leafed through them, but didn’t find anything interesting. The top left drawer had something, though — a.38 revolver. I didn’t touch it, closed the drawer and started on the right. More papers, some cheesecake photos of what looked like half a dozen pretty young girls. They were all smiling vacantly into the camera while showing lots of leg or cleavage. The top drawer yielded a half-eaten sandwich — tuna, from the smell — and some rotten fruit that had been in there for a while.
I only had the center drawer left.
‘I got lots of pictures,’ Jerry said, ‘but none of Miss Dalton.’
‘Any nudes at all?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘just cheesecake.’
‘Yeah, me, too.’
More papers, some note paper that he’d scribbled on. I was about to close the drawer when a name jumped out at me.