The Case of the Unseen Lady
Now, when you or I walk down the street we expect people to walk around us somewhat. As people encounter one another they negotiate the space instinctively. They tend to step into the open areas that they see before them as they navigate a sea of humanity. Even when the number of people on the sidewalk is few they still maintain rather even spacing between themselves. I never thought about it myself until the day Natalie took her first public strides as a totally invisible woman.
I can’t recall how many times she got bumped or kicked. I thought she would surrender after her toes were stepped on. But she was determined to continue practicing. At first it was easy to tell her location by the startled people who were like a wake behind an unseen ship. Oddly enough, none of the people she contacted seemed perplexed. I was sure she would betray her existence as an unseen person but it didn’t happen. Most people would turn to see what they had hit but upon seeing nothing they easily assumed it was nothing worth their attention. Of course, had she run face on into someone and knocked them off balance I suppose they would be curious enough to investigate but most of the encounters were glancing blows at best.
As the day went on she improved her defensive walking style and it became harder for me to guess her location. When a minute or two passed without anyone faltering or hesitating I began to wonder if she had disregarded my advice to stay on the immediate block.
Then she surprised me with a playful jab in the side.
“I did it.” She said beside me. “I snuck up on you.”
I looked down near the curb and saw Vince making a quizzical expression in our direction.
“It’s okay, Vince. I’ll explain later.”
* * *
“I’m not sure I can go through with this, Johnny.” Natalie’s voice said nervously.
“Everything will be alright,” I reassured, “we’ve been through this many times. Just follow me while I talk to these men then stay behind after I leave. You don’t have to memorize every word of their conversation just pick out the significant bits of information. If they reminisce about a crime, for example, that’s worth noting.”
I had barrowed Jake’s car again because I couldn’t take Natalie in a taxi. I had actually convinced Natalie to disrobe prior to the ride since it would be much more difficult, and embarrassing, for her to do it in the car. She accepted the idea at first but seeing the shape of her buttocks and thighs in the leather seat made her very self-conscious. I pretended not to notice so that I wouldn’t upset her any more than she already was.
Sighting our targets on the pier I got out of the car and opened Natalie’s door. I couldn’t resist watching the womanly imprint slid off of the seat.
“Just relax,” I said to myself as much as her.
As I approached the end of the pier the men noticed me and changed their stance. They clearly saw me as a threat.
“You Drake?” asked the bulkier and slightly taller one.
I said yes and took the time to light a cigarette. I wanted them to be impatient with me.
“So, we got your message,” bulky said, “So, why’d we have to meet out here?”
“I like the ocean.” I noticed this made bulky irritated while the short man simply looked nervous. “The ocean is so much more relaxing than, say, a lumberyard.”
Bulky went off at this. “Look, I don’t know what you think you know but you don’t know nothing.”
I didn’t even try to decipher this statement, but I was sure of one thing: these men felt concerned enough to actually come here and meet me. In my book that means fear.
“Look here,” the dominant partner said. “That business was investigated and closed. So I suggest you forget about it whoever you are.”
“Fine,” I said, “Maybe next time I’ll bring all of you together.”
I put out my cigarette and strode away. Never looking back I went to the parking lot and waited near the car. I waited and watched.
After a few minutes each man walked off the pier and on to the street.
After a few more moments I heard Natalie’s voice. “I’m back. It’s me.” Then, as an afterthought she said, “Oh, um, Silver Bullet …”
“Yeah, I believe you, now let’s go.”
I walked around to open the passenger door. I didn’t want to risk some by-passer seeing the door open by itself. But I hesitated in closing it even after I could see her imprint on the seat.
“Clear?”
“What?”
“Are your hands and feet clear of the door?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “you can close it now.”
I got behind the wheel and got out my notebook. “Any names?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly, “the short one said, ‘do you think Franks squealed?’”
I wrote down the name. I’d check it against all the paperwork I had gathered on the case.
Back at the office I looked through the file on this case while Natalie dressed in the washroom.
When she came out she was wearing a blouse and skirt but her head and hands were still exposed. If she stood sill she looked like a storefront manikin with out head or hands. She paused in front of the mirror on my wall and I wondered if she would dart back into the washroom to cover up. But she turned to me and asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind me like this?”
I looked up at the empty collar of her pink satin blouse and tried to sound casual as I said, “You’re fine. Just keep a hat handy incase someone comes to the door.” Then I thought about it, and added, “But it might be safer to put on gloves now since they take longer to put on.”
She reached into her purse and took out a pair of black leather gloves. I watched her empty sleeve, as it seemed to merely point at the first glove coming to life on the other sleeve. That glove then pulled on the second glove.
I brought my attention back to my task and started to leaf through the papers. I finally found what I was looking for.
“Franks,” I said, “was a worker at the lumberyard who received an early Christmas bonus to his paycheck three days before the place burned down.”
“Christmas bonus?” Natalie asked, “It was August according to the date. This was a payoff, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, “and enough to buy Santa’s whole workshop. And look, here’s an equal amount one week after the fire. Half before and half after. Common practice.”
“So now we arrest him?” Natalie asked excitedly.
“No, we don’t work for the police. Like it says on the door, I’m a Private Investigator. We give this information to the client who hired us. He can go to the police if he wishes.”
“But I thought we were fighting crime here?” She said with more than a hint of disappointment.
I put down the papers. “Look, I’ll advise the client to go to the police. There’s enough here to reopen the case.”
“And if he tries to take the law into his own hands?” She asked.
“That’s different. If he tells me that he plans to do something like that I’d be an accomplice, liable to justice myself. But it usually never comes to that.”
As it turned out I was right. I met with the client the next day and he subsequently went to the police. They brought Franks in for questioning and he broke down and confessed, fully implicating the two businessmen who paid him.
It was a simple enough case but a good one for Natalie and me to start our partnership.
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