The Case of the Unseen Lady
For the next few days I treated my new partner to breakfast. She refused to eat in public so I picked it up at Jake’s everyday and brought it to the office. And each day I left her at the office and worked alone.
During these days I followed my latest subject, the dog track owner, Mister Herman. I’d surreptitiously taken a number of photographs of him in the company of an unknown young lady over the past few weeks but none of it very scandalous. I could have done more if I wasn’t trying to work so many cases at once. But my client, Missus Herman, was willing to wait for really solid evidence. It seemed that she wanted the divorce to be sudden and swift so that he had no time to hide any assets.
One evening I had followed the illicit couple to The Swing Palace, a high-class dancehall that always hosted the big names like Dorsey, Miller, Kay, Harris, and Brown. However, this night they had a relatively new band that I had never heard of. Still it was a tight band that played first-class eight-to-the-bar. They were 19 men strong plus a wasp-waisted dame who sang like a lark in the morning.
I got a table near the floor this time so I could look up at my targets where they sat at their table in the back. My plan was to follow them after they ate and danced. They had just arrived so I knew I’d be there for a while.
About ten minutes later, something, elsewhere in the room, caught my eye. The room was smoky of course but I thought I detected an unnatural swirling motion moving from the lobby. It wasn’t smoky enough to outline a person but the movement was enough to suggest a person’s passing even in the low lighting. It was like a sailboat leaving a wake, but without the sailboat.
I watched as the effect approached my table and stopped a few paces away. I spoke looking at no one in particular of course. “You may as well have a seat before the cigarette girl comes by and steps on your toes.”
The wooden chair across from me pulled out slightly. Given that most of the patrons were more interested in their dates than in me, we were safely ignored.
I looked at the clarinetist, as he began a solo, and said, “I told you that there was nothing for you to do on this case. You should have stayed home.”
She said nothing.
“Hey,” I said, “I caught the races today. I bet you’ll never guess who ran in the fifth. Go ahead guess.”
Still silence.
Then my waitress came with my whiskey. I asked for a glass of fine wine, Cabernet Sauvignon to be exact, explaining that I expecting a lady friend very soon.
When the waitress had left I said, “It’s so dark in here I’m sure no one will notice if you have a drink.”
Then she made that “Mm-Mm” sound to say “no”. Perhaps I wouldn’t get a shot at fingerprints. Subtly, I reached for the small can of talcum in my jacket pocket.
“Gee,” I said, “If I’d known you were coming I would have brought you a pair of gloves. Maybe even you favorite white ones that you found on my secretary’s desk last week.”
She gave a little chuckle and we both knew the score at that point.
I glanced at Mister Herman, still working on his steak, and asked, “So, why’d you do it? Jealous of Natalie because she’s so much prettier than you?” I was hoping to get her to speak in the hope that I might recognize her voice. But she was too careful for that. Likewise she was careful not to touch the wineglass when it arrived and was placed at her seat. I had expected as much.
Finally, I looked straight at the chair across from me and said, “I’ll give you one chance. Say your name now and it will save us both a lot of running around.”
I noticed the chair begin to move so I gave a good squeeze to the makeshift powder shooter that I held beneath the table.
My adversary gasped and so stood up knocking her chair over. I saw that I got one thigh rather well.
She only paused a second then ran. I followed closely. Unlike our earlier chase on the street I had something to see and follow. By now patrons and staff were making a ruckus but I ignored them. I considered yelling, “Stop that leg” but was distracted when my quarry suddenly tossed a tray of food in my path. It stumbled enough to slow down but when I looked up I saw the ghostly thigh pass into the kitchen door, as it swung open with a bang.
I ran into the kitchen and stopped. The kitchen workers, having heard a commotion in the dinning room, were all looking up from their work.
“Did you see it?” I yelled figuring that no description was necessary. A few men pointed and I ran in that direction. At the far end of the kitchen I saw a woman’s leg outlined by running water. She was using a sink hose to clean off the talc.
I got there and grabbed at her with a wide hug. I got both arms and pinned her body against a wall.
“Give me that apron,” I yelled to a nearby cook. I knew I’d have to tie her quickly.
That’s when I took a knee to the groin. I staggered and felt my subject escape my grasp. I slumped to the floor and was barely aware of the back door opening.
As the door was closing I vaguely thought I heard a woman laugh and say, “He didn’t see that one coming.”
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