City of Dark Corners

She clinked my glass and sipped. “I hope so. I have another box of very expensive clothes still in the car. As for this, it will take some time to go through it. You have quite an admirer in that coed named Pamela.”

“She’s a kid.”

“I’m not jealous. Much.” She punched my shoulder. “I did some sorting this afternoon. A few letters from her father. Some from a neighbor in Prescott. She sent money to the woman to buy groceries for her dad. I guess it was a way to keep him from using the cash to buy booze or build another still. Then things got interesting. She had a number of love letters.”

“From her boyfriend, the one who works at the slaughterhouse?”

“They don’t read that way. Young men are needy. These are written with more assurance. I guess an older man or men.”

“Who?”

“That’s the problem. They’re only signed, ‘Your Admirer.’ And the envelopes they came in were discarded, so no return address or even a postmark. But do you have that note from Prescott, saying you were in dangerous territory?”

I went to the desk and retrieved it. Victoria pulled out one of the notes from Carrie’s things and leaned against me, holding them side

by side.

“Different handwriting,” she said.

I read the note:

Dearest C.

I know you’ll be pleased with your cut this month, which I enclose. You can share it with your friends as they deserve. This will not go on forever. I promise. Keep trusting me. In the beginning, I remember that you were eager to try. But I sense you are having second thoughts. Hang in their, dearest. It won’t be much longer, and we’ll be set with a nice nest egg and we can run away and start a new life.

Your Admirer

I read it again. “What the hell does this mean?” I told her about what I had learned at the Biltmore, including her friend Margaret saying an older man would fetch her at night and that he was a cop. And our Carrie was going by Cynthia. Both starting with the letter C.

“Could she have been embezzling from the hotel?” I said.

“Maybe,” Victoria said. “Makes sense. Even in the hot months, I bet the Biltmore makes plenty. It might be involved with the speakeasy out there. But what about ‘share it with your friends’?”

I shook my head. “Maybe she needed help for the inside job. It still doesn’t explain her nightly jaunts. Unless the man was her lover and somehow involved in skimming the money. Maybe he put her up to it. Married man, promising to leave his wife if they got enough.”

Victoria shrugged. “Maybe. Still, it doesn’t seem right.”

“How so?”

“I can’t put my finger on it, Eugene. Woman’s intuition. We need to read more. I’ll leave these with you.” She set the letters and diary on the coffee table.

I gave more of a rundown about my day, showing her the numbers and names I had copied from the answering service for Carrie’s mysterious business.

Finally, I had to tell her about Jack Hunter, Zoogie Boogie, Frenchy Navarre, and Marley. She closed her eyes and gripped my hand. Each piece of information felt as if I was delivering a kidney punch.

Finishing her drink, she stood. “I’ve got another McCulloch Brothers job early tomorrow. It’s not hanging out from the top of the Chrysler Building, but it pays the bills.”

“I’m needy,” I said, touching her skirt.

“You’ll have to wait, young man.” She paused. “I can’t get that Margaret Bourke-White photo out of my head. There’s got to be more to life than photographing crime scenes and quinceañeras. If she can get on the staff of a major magazine…wow.”

“I said you could do it. Maybe you’d let me tag along. I’m sure New York needs another shamus.”

“I need to build a better portfolio than I have, or nobody will take me seriously. In the meantime, please be careful, Eugene.”

I walked her to her car, where we enjoyed a long kiss. Then she drove around the parkway and headed east toward Central Avenue. I stepped into the shadows of the porch to watch her go. That was when I saw a dark car sitting across the slim linear park come to life, headlights on, pulling out and driving in the same direction.

I ran to my Ford and swung around, headlights off, and followed him. It might be a coincidence, but I wasn’t taking chances.