Fast Lane

Chapter 7

Mary looked miserable. “I don’t understand. You seemed so sure you were going to find them.”

We had been at it for a while now. I let my eyes close. “With these things you never know for sure,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “I did think I was on the right track, but out in Oklahoma I hit a stone wall.”

She was struggling to keep the tears back. The corners of her mouth were quivering and I sped up, hoping to keep the dam from breaking open. “If you think about it, tracing a full grown woman back to the parents who gave her up for adoption can be close to impossible. A mother giving up her baby is usually doing it for a good reason but that doesn’t stop her from feeling ashamed about it. So she doesn’t cooperate by supplying agencies or hospitals with any useful information. What you end up with is birth certificates and hospital records listing the mother as JANE DOE.”

“What are you trying to tell me, that you can’t do the job?”

“Well, no,” I said, a little hurt. “If the job can be done, then I can do it. I’m just trying to tell you that these things don’t always happen the way you’d expect them to.”

I heard the door to my anteroom open and excused myself to find Max Roth standing there looking uncomfortable. I asked him to take a seat and wait. Back in my office, Mary was sitting with her head bowed, pulling at her fingers. When I sat down, she slowly lifted her head and peeked at me. “I’m sorry, Johnny,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’ve been trying your best. I guess I’m disappointed and a little frustrated. You seemed so positive before you left. And I thought knowing the name of that lawyer would make it easy. I-”

She lowered her eyes. I could tell she was having trouble putting her thoughts together. It was as if she were trying to express herself in a foreign language and only knew a few of the words.

“I know,” she continued slowly, “it might be hard for other people to understand, but I need to find who my real parents are. I have to know who I really am.”

Her shoulders started shaking and I could see it was useless. I took a deep breath and waited and sure enough the tears started flowing. I got up and patted her head, telling her everything was going to be okay and being as sympathetic as all hell.

After a while the crying stopped. I took out a handkerchief and mopped up around her eyes. After blowing her nose, she looked up at me and bit her lip. “This is embarrassing,” she said. “Usually I’m not like this.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been wanting this awful bad and it’s only natural to get shaken up a bit when you’ve been let down.” I hemmed and hawed a little before continuing. “I hate seeing you torn up like this. Should it really be this important for you to find your birth parents?”

“I don’t know, Johnny. But it is.”

“Your adoptive parents are nice folks, better than most people could hope for. Maybe you should be satisfied with them. It would be a shame to end up spending all this money and time only to find out something you might be better off not knowing. There’s a reason why a pretty little baby is given up for adoption.”

She shook her head, her jaws tightening with determination.

“I’ve got to find them,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to ever since I was twelve-that’s when I found out I was adopted. Frank and Julie are wonderful parents and I love them. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need to know who I really am.”

“What if it turns out your real mother was a prostitute? Or your daddy was a madman? Or a murderer?”

“Why are you saying that?”

I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Mary, some things are better left alone. Maybe this is one of them.”

“I don’t want to leave it alone.”

“How’s your job going?” I asked.

“What-it’s going okay.”

“It must be awful hard,” I said, “going to college during the day and then working nights at that convenience store. Just to pay for this.”

“It’s my decision.” She forced a weak smile. “I’m an adult, you know.”

I leaned back in my chair and decided to go at it from a different angle. “When I first started out as a private detective I had a case similar to this. This boy, he felt the same as you, that he couldn’t be happy unless he was able to meet with his birth parents. And-”

Mary cut in, giving me a cross-eyed look. “I’m really not interested in this,” she insisted.

“I appreciate that,” I stumbled on, “but it might help to hear me out. I found this boy’s momma for him. After more sweat and hard work I found his daddy had been long dead, killed in prison. It turned out that my client, well let’s just say, was the product of a rape and grew up to be the spitting image of his daddy. When he showed up at his momma’s door and she got a look at him, something in her snapped.”

Mary’s eyes drifted away from me. My story was boring her and I couldn’t help feeling a little hot under the collar. I cleared my throat and continued, wishing I had never started.

“When she looked at this boy she didn’t see him as her long lost son. Instead she saw the son of a bitch who had raped her years before. By the time anyone was able to get her off him, she had half his face scratched up and had almost cut out one of his eyes. My client didn’t end up any happier and neither did his mother.”

Mary was looking around impatiently. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. It’s not going to change my mind. And besides, I don’t think I have to worry about being the spitting image of a rapist.”

I leaned further back in my chair and gave her a hard look. She was so damn determined and headstrong. There was no sense trying to talk her out of it. For a second, I almost told her the truth. I wanted to, but it would have ended up causing too much pain.

I let out my breath slowly. “I only want to make sure you understand what you might be up against. If you want me to keep looking, I’ll do just that.”

“I appreciate that, Johnny.” She blushed, lowering her eyes from mine. “There’s something else, something we haven’t talked about. The night before you left. I know things got kind of weird, but before that everything happened too quickly for me. I guess I wasn’t ready for it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to happen. Only that we need to take it more slowly.”

Her face had turned red. I forced a smile and told her I felt awful about it, and that I hoped the two of us could forget it ever happened.

She looked startled, not expecting what I said. “That’s not at all what I’m trying to say. I don’t feel bad about it and you shouldn’t either. And I’m not saying we should stop!”

I shook my head. “We have to. It was plain wrong with you being as vulnerable as you are right now, and well, me being as old as I am.”

“Why are you acting like this? You didn’t-” And she stopped herself cold. She gave me an odd kind of look, almost as if she were seeing me for the first time, and sat there for a good minute trying to make up her mind about something. Finally she told me I was probably right. She looked down at her nails and added, “I better be going. You’ll let me know as soon as you find out anything?”

I nodded, my smile strained. “And don’t worry. I’ll find them for you.” I watched, almost hypnotically, the rhythmic motion of her hips as she walked towards the door. She hesitated slightly and then she was gone. As the door closed behind her, I couldn’t help but feel a little empty inside. As if I had screwed up and lost something I couldn’t afford to lose.

That night before I left for Oklahoma . . . .

I closed my eyes and played it back in my mind. The way Mary’s lips felt brushing against mine, the way she smelled and how dizzy and light everything became. And then the sickness rolling over me. For a moment I could feel it again, the dull nausea swirling in my head and stomach. I could feel it way down in my throat, pushing its way up. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the images out of my head.

The hell with it. The hell with all of it.

It wasn’t as if there was anything to be ashamed of. I had stopped it way before that. Anyways, I didn’t show her anything she hadn’t seen before. I bet if I had kept going she would have taught me a few new tricks. It’s just like everything else; you try so hard in this lifetime and, well, like I said, the hell with it.

And besides, the two of us were nothing at all like Craig Singer and his daughter.

Nothing at all like that . . . .

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning my mind back to what I needed to focus on. I wasn’t going to be able to talk Mary out of searching for her parents. Something else was going to have to be thought up because if Mary didn’t get what she was paying me for, sooner or later she was going to lose faith in me and hire herself another detective.

He’d find Rose for her. He’d have to. It was easy enough for me to do it.

With a start, I heard Max’s voice coming from the anteroom. His voice was hushed as if he were trying to keep it low, and I realized he had to be talking to Mary. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I’d forgotten about him.

I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I knew what he was after. He’d be making it sound as if the two of us were closer than brothers and all the while dropping snide hints and innuendos about me. And acting every bit as dumb and innocent as he looked. “Johnny, great guy, give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. Used to be a pretty good detective before people started asking for his autograph. I guess with all that, you can’t help getting a little careless.” And he’d be worming out of Mary what she had hired me for, and then building himself up as if God had put him on earth specifically to help her. All to chisel me out of a client.

I have a rule among the detectives that work for me that I, and I alone, meet with the clients. Over the years I caught him sneaking behind my back a few times. That’s what happens with some folks when you try to treat them fair. They look to stick it to you as soon as you’re bent over and ignorant to the world. And I couldn’t have been any fairer to Max over the years, always giving him the benefit of the doubt. Putting up with a lot of crap that any other sane person wouldn’t, letting him act as if I should be working for him instead of the way it was.

I had to laugh thinking about how his jaw would drop when Mary told him what she was paying me. He’d get her to tell him. No matter how hard up he was he wouldn’t want to work for that. And anyway, he was probably even dumber than he looked. If there was anyone out there who couldn’t find his ass from his elbow, let alone Rose, it was him.

* * * * *

It would look funny for me to go out there and say something, so I sat and waited. After a few minutes I heard the outer door to my office shut. I got up and asked Max to come in. He hesitated before taking my hand, and when he finally did, you’d think I was contagious with something particularly unpleasant. I gave him a big smile and an even bigger slap on the back as he made his way past me. We sat ourselves down and without as much as a how-do-y’-do he tried pushing a folder on me. I ignored it and made my smile nice and friendly.

“They put a new coffee machine out in the hallway. If you like I could get you some?”

He shook his head.

“Something from the vending machine? Gum? Candy bar?”

“No, nothing, thanks.”

“So, Max, how are things going for you?”

“I can’t complain,” he said, sounding hoarse, as if his throat had been scraped with sandpaper. “I’ve finished the Crowley job and have the report ready for you to look over.”

I waved it away. “My poppa always taught me that if you worry too much about business you’re plain worrying yourself too much. We can get to that in a little while. Speaking of little, how’s the missus doing?”

“Uh, she’s okay.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that. And how are your boys getting along?”

He shifted in his chair. “They, um.” He cleared his throat. “They’re doing okay too.”

“Regular chips off the old block, aren’t they?”

“Um, yes. But they-”

“Although,” I cut in, “you can see some of Moira’s features in them. Her better features, that is.”

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, emotion muffling his voice.

“Nothing at all,” I said innocently. “Only that some of her features are better than others. Nobody in this world’s perfect.”

“I don’t know if-”

“Aw, come on.” I winked. “There’s nothing about her you would change if given the chance?”

“No!”

“There’s something about everyone that could be improved. Me, I’ve never been too happy about my nose. It’s a little too small and flat for my face.”

“I’m happy with her the way she is,” he insisted.

“That’s good to hear.” I nodded. “It sure must be something having a wife and family. How long has it been since I’ve seen them?”

“I’m not sure-”

“You know what? I’d really enjoy visiting you and Moira and your boys sometime.”

Of course I wouldn’t enjoy it at all. Not with the way Moira shuffled about, acting as if I were the reason for all her problems. And not with having to sit there with his boys. It was a shame the way they’d turned out, getting the worse they could possibly get from their parents. Growing up to be big, sullen and dull like their daddy, and with their mother’s pasty, colorless features. It really was a shame.

I wondered what it was like having a family like that. Waking up every morning knowing they’d be waiting for you at night. I wondered how Max has managed not to take his gun and . . . .

* * * * *

Max turned uneasily in his chair, working himself up as he tried to explain why right now wasn’t a good time for them to have company. “Sure we would like to have you over, but, uh, I need to talk to my wife.” His face turned redder as he continued, “Um, this is a bad time, though. Moira hasn’t been feeling well and there’s a lot to do around the house. But I’ll talk to her.”

I told him I understood and asked if he wouldn’t mind going over his report with me. And damned if he didn’t let loose with a sigh of relief! We started on the report with Max attacking the expenses first, justifying each item to death. He’d padded the amount of billable hours and was cheating me on the expenses but I sat there nodding in agreement. It doesn’t pay to be too hardnosed about these things, and besides, it wasn’t all that likely the client would notice. If he did, well, Max and I could always go over it again.

We quickly finished the report. Crowley Industrial Rentals was having a problem with some of its power tools disappearing. Max had traced them back to an employee who had been borrowing them to make his own pool table. It seems this fellow had his retirement coming up and thought a pool table would help pass all the idle time he was soon going to have. He never did get a chance to finish it and that was a shame, what with his retirement coming upon him faster than expected.

I was disappointed. Before leaving for Oklahoma I was planning to use Mary’s case for my next column, but that idea was no longer feasible. I had hoped Max would have something I could use, but his case was no good either. The public doesn’t like reading about a big company coming down hard on the little guy. Hell, I might as well pack up and close the office for the good that story would do me.

Max cleared his throat to get my attention. He asked if I had any cases he could take a crack at.

I shook my head and frowned. “It’s kind of slow right now. I’ll call you, though, as soon as something comes up.”

He started to get up, hesitated, and then sat back down. “Do you think you could pay me now for the Crowley job?”

“Now Max, you know I always pay after the client pays. But if you’re a little short I’d be glad to give you a loan.”

I reached for my wallet, making it slow. Max stopped me and mumbled to no one in particular to forget it. He stared at his hands. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

He hesitated for a second, and then said, “I’m not happy with our arrangement.”

I didn’t say a word. I let him go on.

“I don’t think forty percent is fair after all I’ve done for you.”

I’d had a good idea where the dissension in the ranks was coming from. Now I knew.

“That’s what I pay out,” I said. “None of the other detectives have ever complained about it. And it’s not like I’ve ever held a gun to your head and made you work for me. If you don’t like what I’m paying, you don’t have to take it.”

“Yeah, and what am I supposed to do?”

“It seems to me you could quit bitching and moaning and expecting a free ride from me. Maybe you should try standing on your own two feet for a change.”

His big face flushed with anger. “You promised me!”

“Aww,” I said under my breath.

“Well, you did.”

I looked him in the eye and we stared at each other. I was starting to get disgusted with the whole thing.

“Max,” I explained, “that’s just not true. I’ve always been on the level. I never promised you anything except the jobs I’ve given you. And I’ve always paid you fairly. You’ve gotten every dime I’ve owed you.”

“But,” he was beginning to get flustered, “what are you going to do? Change the names and turn that into next month’s adventure from the files of Johnny Lane?”

He was glaring at his report. I shook my head, showing my disappointment. “If you feel that strongly about it I certainly won’t. But you’re being unreasonable. You know that’s part of what’s agreed on. I’ll tell you what I think I am going to do,” I said, feeling a meanness edging into my voice. “Next month I’ll introduce my sidekick. Every hero needs a sidekick. Mine can be Max, the dickless dick. Got a nice ring to it. Yes sir, I think the whole next feature will be about how Max became the dickless dick. A pretty funny story, his girlfriend getting all excited and forgetting to take her false teeth out.”

That left him speechless. And there was quite a bit of truth in it, although you couldn’t really say he was dickless. A doctor was able to stitch it up for him, leaving it almost as good as new. But that’s an awful difficult thing to explain to your wife, why something like that needed to get stitched up. He just about begged me to feed Moira a story about it happening in the line of duty, and only God knows how I was able to do it with a straight face.

After a few seconds some color came back to his face. “I’ve spent almost twenty years working for you. Helping you build up clients and your business. And I did it because you promised you’d make me a partner.”

“No, sir. You’ve been working for me because it was the easy way out. I was able to offer you jobs without you having to go out and bust your own hump.” I could feel my temper slipping away. “How many other folks would let you charge five days for a two-day job? Maybe I should pay more attention to you boozing yourself up on my time. Maybe if you took a little responsibility for yourself and cleaned up your act and quit looking like a drunken slob, folks would consider hiring you. You look like a goddamned disgrace.”

And he did too. A good week’s worth of growth was planted on his face. And it would have taken a far greater detective than myself to figure out which had been cleaned last, his clothes or his hair. Which was just plain lazy, what with the little hair he had left.

He muttered something that sounded like ‘bass turd’, which was a funny thing to call somebody. I didn’t let it bother me since I couldn’t even begin to imagine what one of those would look like.

“Look,” I said. “When I was first starting out-”

“Yeah, I remember reading all about that and it’s something I’ve always wondered about. What exactly did happen?”

I’d had just about enough. Without really looking at him, I told him it had certainly been a pleasure and he could bet his check would be in the mail as soon as possible.

He gave me a screw-you-too look, walked as far as the door and stopped. A good while passed without him so much as moving, and then his shoulders collapsed. The sunlight drifting through the window cast his shadow on the opposite wall. With his head bowed and his shoulders slouched forward, it looked like the shadow of a man hanging by his neck.

He let out a low moan from deep in his gut. In a voice just above a whisper, he asked if we could try talking again.

I didn’t say anything. He sat back down and without looking at me, at least not exactly, he said, “I guess I lost my temper back there. I-things haven’t been going well for me.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know where my money goes. I guess with Moira and the boys, and all their expenses, it’s never enough. I’m sorry. I must have been mistaken about what I thought you promised me. This won’t happen again.”

He was looking as sick as can be. I took out the bottle of rye from my desk drawer and poured us both drinks. He took his in one gulp and I poured him a bigger one.

“These things happen,” I said. “I guess this must have been building up for some time now?”

He nodded in agreement.

“Moira’s been harping about it, hasn’t she? Getting you all worked up?”

“I-I-” he sputtered, looking awful uncomfortable. “I guess she’s been talking about it, but-”

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “You should have a talk with her and explain how much I’ve really done for you.”

“I’ll talk with her, Johnny. I’m sorry and-”

“Don’t worry about it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s forgotten.”

I offered him my hand and he took it, being a good deal friendlier about it than when he first came in. He reeled off a few more apologies and I told him again not to worry about any of it. Before leaving, he stopped at the door and asked if I would call him as soon as any jobs came up and I assured him I would.

I settled down to work, chipping away at the mountain of phone messages that had piled up during my absence. After an hour or so I ended up with one definite job and four appointments. Tommy Burns was available for work so I started him on it, giving him the information he needed over the phone.

I had hesitated before calling Burns. I couldn’t help feeling a little troubled thinking about Max. We went back a long way, and I was even the godfather to one of his boys. We used to be friends; at least I think we were. But the last few years things had been getting out of hand. And I didn’t like the fact he was bitching to Rude about me.

Of course I had never promised to make him my partner. I might have joked about it once over a bottle of scotch, but he knew I wasn’t serious. I thought some more about Max and the aggravation he was causing me. After a while, I made a decision. From now on he was only going to get exactly what I owed him.

Nothing.