The operator wasn't pleased at all with that confession. She sounded incensed. “Another one.”
“Another?” Scratch said. “What do you mean by that?”
The operator let out an angry sigh. “I mean just that. Another one! A nutcase! Look, you want a number or what?”
“Yeah, yeah. I'm in a hurry anyway, but we'll continue this…”
“The number! Give it to me!” The operator said.
Scratch smiled. Yeah, he thought. I think I'm in love.
“Waltzing 224.”
“Thank you,” she said in that smooth, commanding voice and Scratch drew in a sharp breath, released it slowly. “Connecting.”
The line buzzed. A soft male voice answered in an Eastern-European accent.
“Primrose Hotel.”
“Jerzy, old pal,” Scratch crooned. “How's it hangin'?”
“I'm sorry? Can I help you sir?” Jerzy asked.
“It's Scratch, Jerzy.”
“Mr Williams,” he sighed. “Oh my. Been a few months since I've spoken to you. You didn't come dinner as my wife requested.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Been busy,” Scratch said.
“Of course,” Jerzy said. “I explained to Clara you were almost always on call. No matter, I am forever indebted to you for the job you performed.”
“It was nothing, Jerzy,” Scratch said. “Say, uh… could you do me a favor?”
“Well, of course!” Jerzy exclaimed, his voice pitched a little higher with each syllable. “Jerzy Gerkbahn takes care of his friends – always!”
Scratch chuckled. “I know, Jerzy, I know. Anyway, uh, look,” he licked his lips as he came up with a suitable lie. “Say… a friend of mine has a room at your establishment.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah… uh… Jerzy. His name is Gardner. Ray Gardner.”
“Oh, yes.” Jerzy sniffed. “I know Mr Gardner.”
“We're supposed to have a party at my place.” Scratch stopped to make sure Jerzy was listening.
After a brief pause, Jerzy said: “Ah. Yes.”
“Thing is, old pal.” Scratch chuckled. “I can't have it at my place. My mother is in town…”
“Oh! How wonderful! Give her my love!”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. That's the reason we can't have our party,” Scratch said, squinting with concentration as he made the story up on the spot.
“Uh-huh.” Jerzy sounded slightly confused. “Does she not like parties because of the noise?”
Scratch laughed. “Let's just say… she wouldn't like what went on at these parties.”
“Oh?” Jerzy still didn't understand what Scratch was getting at.
“Yeah, old pal. I'd bring the booze and Ray would bring the ladies.”
Jerzy laughed. “Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. I see. Well, it seems Mr Gardner has already started without you in his room.”
“Is that right?” Scratch said, very interested. “You know…” Scratch chuckled. “I forgot what room number he said he'd be in.”
“Oh…uh…” Jerzy pulled away from the phone, his voice on the line reflected that. He bounced back, his voice louder and sharper. “Room number one-o-three.”
“Thanks, pal,” Scratch said.
“Mmm. He has a young lady already in there. As a matter of fact, I've had one or two complaints about the loud music. Frankly – please forgive me, Mr Williams – I don't like your friend very much.”
“That's OK, Jerzy,” Scratch said. “Not many people do. Say. The favor?”
“Oh,” Jerzy cleared his throat. “Yes? What would it be?”
“Well, it's a silly game Ray and I play. We like to – uh – scare each other. Practical jokes and all.”
“Oh. All right. Is this an American folly?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Could you leave me the pass key?”
Total silence. Damn, Scratch thought. Maybe I went too far with that last part. After a few seconds, Jerzy spoke.
“Yes,” he said in a quiet voice. “When you come in the hotel, give me a wave. I will hand you the evening paper. The key will be inside.”
Jerzy hung up quickly, leaving a couple of clicking noises in Scratch's ears. He waited for the operator.
“Hang up now, please,” she demanded.
Scratch smiled. “That's all I wanted, baby, was to hear you say that.”
“Weirdo!” The operator said in a huff.
The line went dead and Scratch placed the receiver on the cradle. When Scratch turned around, Harry was standing behind him, scowling.
“What's wrong?” Scratch asked.
“Nothing,” Harry said. He was stony-faced, ice in his voice. He handed Scratch an envelope.
“What's this?”
“For the old man,” Harry said, glaring at Scratch.
Scratch looked inside. There was 100 dollars in 10s and 20s. Scratch didn't understand.
“No,” Scratch said. “What's this for?”
“When you see Gardner,” Harry snarled. “You ask him what it's for. Now get out, will ya? I'm closing up.”
Scratch nodded. “Yeah. All right.” He shuffled out the door, tipped his hat to Harry.
“And tell the old man and your friend they can both hang!” Harry slammed the door, locked it and pulled the blinds.
Scratch sat in his car for a few minutes.
“What was all that about?” he asked himself, turning the envelope over in his hands.
A red Plymouth Fury sped by, blaring Train kept a-rollin' by Johnny Burnette Rock 'n Roll Trio. A fair-haired boy with small black eyes and a crooked smile gawked at Scratch the whole time he drove by. The boy had a small round head with a flat top so large the air force could land a jet plane on it. In the passenger seat Scratch could see a brown-haired girl cuddling up to the boy. For a second, Scratch thought it was Maggie Spiff.
He felt uneasy about it when he thought back. No more than 45 minutes ago he'd left her at the top of the stairs ready for bed. The old man had the house pretty much locked up. He had his security patrolling the property. So it couldn't have been her anyway.
All Scratch knew was that boy gave him the shivers.
4
The Primrose was the nicest building in Odarko. By nicest, it was always clean, very elegant. A lot of Texas businessmen used the Primrose as a stayover from too many parties, to rest up, or just as a cover story for their wives when they were really at the California Club whoring and boozing. The Primrose had three floors and
