High Five

'He never knocked on my door. I would have heard him. I was in the kitchen almost the whole time.'

'Isn't that odd.' The elevator door opened to the lobby, and Mrs. Bestler smiled. 'First floor. Ladies' handbags. Fine jewelry.'

'What did the man look like?' I asked Mrs. Bestler.

'Oh, dear, he was big. Very big. And dark-skinned. African-American.'

Not the man Mabel just called about. That guy was short and Caucasian.

'Did he have long hair? Maybe pulled back into a ponytail?'

'No. He almost didn't have any hair at all.'

I did a fast check of the lobby. No big guy lurking in the corners. I exited the building and looked around the lot. Nobody there either. My visitor had disappeared. Too bad, I thought. I'd love an excuse not to visit Winnie Black. I'd talk to a census taker, a vacuum-cleaner salesman, a religious zealot. All preferable to Winnie Black. It was bad enough knowing cheapskate Uncle Fred had a girlfriend. I really didn't want to see her. I didn't want to confront Winnie Black and have to imagine her in the sack with duck-footed Fred.

*    *    *    *    *

 WINNIE LIVED IN a little bungalow on Low Street. White clapboard with blue shutters and a red door. Very patriotic. I parked, marched up to her front door, and rang the bell. I hadn't any idea what I was going to say to this woman. Probably something like, Excuse me, are you going around the block with my uncle Fred?

I was about to ring a second time when the door opened and Winnie Black peered out at me.

She had a pleasant, round face and a pleasant, round body, and she didn't look like the sort to boff someone's uncle.

I introduced myself and gave her my card. 'I'm looking for Fred Shutz,' I said. 'He's been missing since Friday, and I was hoping you might be able to give me some information.'

The pleasant expression froze on her face. 'I'd heard he was missing, but I don't know what I can tell you.'

'When did you see him last?'

'The day he disappeared. He stopped by for some coffee and cake. He did that sometimes. It was right after lunch. And he stayed for about an hour. Axel, my husband, was out getting the tires rotated on the Chrysler.'

Axel was getting his tires rotated. Unh! Mental head slap. 'Did Fred seem sick or worried? Did he give any indication that he might be going off somewhere?'

'He was . . . distracted. He said he had something big going on.'

'Did he say any more about it?'

'No. But I got the feeling it had to do with the garbage company. He was having a problem with his account. Something about the computer deleting his name from the customer list. And Fred said he had the goods on them, and he was going to make out in spades. Those were his exact words—'make out in spades.' I guess he never got to the garbage company.'

'How do you know he never got to the garbage company?' I asked Winnie.

Winnie seemed surprised at the question. 'Everyone knows.'

No secrets in the Burg.

'One other thing,' I said. 'I found some photographs on Fred's desk. Did Fred ever mention any photographs to you?'

'No. Not that I can think of. Were these family photographs?'

'They were pictures of a garbage bag. And in some of the pictures you could see the bag's contents.'

'No. I would have remembered something like that.'

I looked over her shoulder into the interior of her neat little house. No husband in sight. 'Is Axel around?'

'He's at the park with the dog.'

I got back in the Buick and drove two blocks to the park. It was a patch of well-tended grass, two blocks long and a block wide. There were benches and flower beds and large trees, and there was a small kids' play area at one end.

It wasn't hard to spot Axel Black. He was sitting on a bench, lost in thought, with his dog at his side. The dog was a small mutt type, sitting there, eyes glazed, looking a lot like Axel. The difference was that Axel had glasses and the dog had hair.

I parked the car and approached the two. Neither moved, even when I was standing directly in front of them.

'Axel Black?' I asked.

He looked up at me. 'Yes?'

I introduced myself and gave him my card. 'I'm looking for Fred Shutz,' I said. 'And I've been talking to some of the seniors who might have known Fred.'

'Bet they've been giving you an earful,' Axel said. 'Old Fred was a real character. Cheapest man who ever walked the earth. Argued over every nickel. Never contributed to anything. And he thought he was a Romeo, too. Always cozying up to some woman.'

'Doesn't sound like you thought much of him.'