Night had fallen, and I would have been at Denny's Zanzi Bar if I'd had anything but lint in my pockets, when Ella popped in my office. "A Mr. Conrad Corn to see you," was all she could get out before he crowded past her to lean, palms down, on my desk and give me a blast of undigested turnip.
"You Mr. Bruck, the detective?"
"That's what I told them to put on the door."
"I want you to find my wife. Right now. Time is money."
Behind him, Ella shook her head no and twirled a finger at her temple.
"Take a seat," I said. "We'll talk about this." Ella balled her fists, glared at me. It's so much fun to irritate her when she gets like that.
He said, "I ain't got time to chew the fat. How much you charge?" Ella mouthed "One hundred" at me.
"Fifteen a day plus expenses," I said.
I thought she was going to go through the ceiling. Mr. Corn wasn't happy with the figure either. "Fifteen a day? My god. I'll give you five, and there ain't gonna be no expenses."
Ella jerked a thumb sideways, mimicking a baseball ump signaling, Out!
"Sold," I said. Ella threw her head back and her hands up.
"Where'd you see your wife last, when?" I asked.
"An hour ago outside Grand Central Station. But by the time I got across all the traffic to where she'd been standing, she was gone. I checked all over and at the hotel, can't find her. Now let's get going. Hotel give me one more hour to git out before they charge me for a whole 'nother day."
"Goodness, another three bucks shot to hell," I said, thinking I was being funny.
"Three twenty-five, I'll have you know," he shot back. "Highway robbery. I swear, people in this town must think I'm rich and stupid."
I managed not to say that people in this town seemed to be batting .500.
As we made our way on foot uptown toward Grand Central he told me he and his wife had come to New York yesterday from Pointed Stick, Tennessee to see the sights.
"So you and the little woman lit up the town, huh?"
"The way Zelda was burnin' cash, I'd say so. Twenty-five cents for a ham sandwich! Then two dollars for a boat ride around the island. And that wasn't enough--she wanted to go see a movie. So I tole her by golly we're takin' the bus home. She said she was gonna at least window shop and would meet me on the corner by Grand Central Station. I had all our money so I wasn't worried about her being off by herself. Right over there's where she was."
"You mean," I pointed, "where that, ah, lady is standing?"
"Yeah. Right there. Well, goll-ee, wait a minute, wait a minute. That's her."
He risked life and limb dodging traffic to get across the intersection and I watched as he began a lecture complete with gesticulations. She, a shapely young thing in a short skirt and a French beret at a saucy angle, stood quietly, apparently waiting for the storm to blow itself out.
"And another thing," he was saying when I got there, "where'd you get that hat? You didn't try chargin' anything to me, did you? By golly--"
"Oh, hush, Corn. It's just my souvenir of New York. Was on sale for practically nothing and didn't cost you a penny, come out of my share of the butter-and-egg money."
"What? You know all that's supposed to go in the pickle jar. How dare you--"
"Oh, look," she said pointing to the clock above the station entrance. "Isn't it about time for the last bus to leave?"
He said, "You run up to the hotel and get our luggage. Me an' this guy's got something to settle."
"Two dollars?" Ella couldn't believe it when I got back to the office and told her the story. "He only paid you two bucks?"
"He wanted to make it one, but I told him I needed an operation and he caved in."
"Hmph. I'd think that wife would have slipped you the money to cover the fee and then some."
"What? Why would she? And where would she get the money?"
"Surely," Ella began--I hate it when she condescends, and she knows it--"you didn't believe that cock-and-bull, butter-and-egg story she gave her husband?"
"Yeah, you need an operation all right--to do something about that mush under your thick skull. Think, Oh Innocent One. Don't you know how a shapely girl in this town would come up with the cash in one hour to buy a hat if her husband tracks every penny?"
"Yes, oh. Perhaps you've heard that guys make offers to girls who stand by lamp posts at twilight? I'll bet Corny's backwoods beauty was worried that you, the big city sophisticate, would see through the story she was giving her husband, and when you didn't say anything she figured you were helping her out. I doubt that her phony baloney about of the bargain beret would play even among the hill belles back in Pointed Stick."
"Well, goll-ee, Ella, I do believe you have solved the mystery. Don't get your hopes up, though. I ain't gonna go throwin' no two dollar bonus money around."
"Bonus? Mr. Bruck, I'd be happy just once getting my full paycheck on time."
© 2005 by Bob Iles.