Farewell, Amethystine

40

I was at the Studio City hideout by a quarter to eight. Mary answered the door.

She was wearing a gray sharkskin one-piece button-up that was open at the throat. On an extremely thin gold chain necklace there hung a bright-blue opal.

She noticed me noticing.

“Mel give me it,” she said on a real smile. “He was just so happy to be together again.”

“He in?”

“Uh-uh. I guess a lotta problems piled up while he was away.”

“How about Amethystine?”

“That is so cute.”

“What?”

“How you say her whole name like some priest calling out for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”

“Are you Catholic, Mary?”

“Amy’s not here. Took the kids out to a cousin in Riverside, I think. You wanna come in and wait for Mel?”

That night was Harvey Wallbangers. I must have had six of them. They tasted like anything but vodka.

“I wanna thank you for saving my Mel,” she said upon serving the third round.

“You helped too.”

“All I did was provide the list of ingredients. You did the shopping, the cooking, and the serving too.”

“You think my prints were on that gun?” she asked midway through the fourth round.

“I dunno,” I said with a wave of my hand. “But I’m positive that it never got tested.”

“Guess I’m lucky that it wasn’t Mel or Anatole that was the detective on the case.”

Looking up from her tall glass, Mary considered me.

“You know, if you and Mel weren’t friends I’d do you right here on this rug,” she said. “Fuck you hard enough that you’d still remember it on your dying day.”

That sentiment set me up straight on the couch. We stared at each other for a while until I said, “Woman, go make us another drink and think of something to say won’t make me feel like I’m about to get shot in the back’a my head.”

She laughed loud and long. In my inebriation I could see that allowing herself to get drunk, alone with me, was the most intimate thing she could accomplish.

Mel showed up around 11:00.

“You guys been drinkin’, huh?” he said from the entranceway.

“Like barracudas at the bottom of the ocean,” his wife verified.

“What took you, Mel?” I asked as he settled down next to Mary.

“Laks killed himself.”

“He what?”

“Bullet to the brain and all his troubles were gone.”

“Where’d they find him?”

“Motel on Hollywood Boulevard. Been dead for hours. Nobody heard the shot.”

“Killed himself,” I said, as if trying to commit it to memory.

“I would’a done it myself if I could,” Mary announced.

“Don’t say that,” Mel said.

“Motherfucker was tryin’ to destroy you. Hell if I wouldn’t’a done the same to him.” Both rage and confidence shone in her eyes.

It struck me that over the whole time of Mel’s problems she never showed any fear for herself.

“He was a brother and we drove him to this,” Mel told his wife. “That’s wrong.”

“What about Fyodor?” I asked, partly to defuse the tension.

“He’s out. After I talked to the chief he told Brennan to clean out his desk.”

“Hi, everybody,” Amethystine hailed. She’d taken Mel’s place at the entrance to the living room.

She wore a bright-blue blouse and her hair was tied up into a tight ball at the back of her head.

“Hey, Amy,” Mary greeted. “Let me fix you one of my famous Harvey Wallbangers.”

“No, honey. All I need is some sleep.”

She came into the room and sat down on a chair next to my end of the couch. She reached out and pressed my hand for an instant.

“Why are you men so serious?” she asked.

Mary told most of the story, scaling back on her glee in deference to Mel.

When she finished I asked Amethystine if she’d mind giving me a ride home.

“I’d love to,” was her answer.

“I got people on those guys Shadrach and Purlo,” Mel said as I got to my feet. “Looks like both of them have disappeared, though.”

My client nodded but didn’t ask or say anything.

“This is bad,” I said to myself as she navigated our way toward Brighthope.

“What is?”

“It’s the second time in a week I needed somebody to drive me home.”

“Nice work if you can get it.”

“Maybe I need a vacation.”

“Where would we go?”

That turned my head in her direction.

“I thought you said we’d stop seeing each other when I finished my investigation.”

“I did.”

“But now we’re going on a vacation?”

“I said that, you know, because I didn’t want you to think I was using you.”

“Using me how?”

“I don’t know. But I still want to see you.”

The only thing I could think to ask was, “Why’d you take Garnett and Pearl to Riverside?”

“The apartment was gettin’ kinda crowded and I didn’t want them eavesdropping on the things we were talkin’ about.”

“That’s such a good answer,” I mused.

“What?” she queried, still with a smile on her face. “You think it sounds made-up?”

“No, no, no, no, no...”

Those were the last words I remembered saying until she and I were walking and stumbling on the blue-brick path to Roundhouse.

Feather answered the door and Amethystine introduced herself.

“I’m one of your father’s clients,” she said. “We were celebrating the end of the case and he had a few drinks too many.”

I was less than half-aware, but I could still register how enchanted my daughter was with Amethystine.

“Hi, honey,” I said.

“You smell drunk, Daddy.”

“Really? That’s good. I thought I might’a stepped in somethin’.”

When I awoke, Amethystine was sleeping next to me. We were both naked and half-covered in the sheets. I sat up and looked down at her. Her eyes opened, and she gave me a wide grin.

“Don’t worry,” she confided. “I didn’t take advantage of you.”

“You ever hear of a guy named Paul German?”

“No pillow talk for you, huh?”

“He’s a friend of Harrison’s and a gambler. I thought maybe he knew Curt.”

Giving up on flirtation she said, “There was a Paul guy used to come to the club sometimes. I don’t remember his last name but he was bald and in his forties.”

“No. This is a young guy. A good player.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, and then she kissed me.

What went undone the night before we accomplished that morning.

By the time we came downstairs, Feather was long gone to school.

I made us a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, fresh grapefruit and coffee.

“What are you doing today, Mr. Rawlins?”

“I have an appointment I got to keep.”

“Doing what?”

“I just need to get a few answers.”

“Not about me, I hope.”

“Why not about you? I thought you still needed answers.”

“Curt is beyond help and Commander Suggs said that Shadrach and Ron have gone.”

I heard the words, but it was the strength of character in her tone that arrested me. It hadn’t been since the days of Anger Lee that I felt so enamored.

“No,” I said. “I mean, yeah, yeah, Mel got the gangsters covered. This is another case. A woman whose husband deserted her.”

“So you’ve moved off from me,” she flirted.

“You know that’s not true.”

“You need a ride?”

“No. I keep a few old cars in the parking lot downstairs. I don’t think I’ll be gone that long.”