You're nobody 'til somebody kills you

Forty-five

I sat back down. Jerry had never moved.

“Fred Otash,” Stanze said. “I want you to call him off.”

“Why?”

“He’s an ambulance chaser.”

“He didn’t chase us,” I said. “We went to him.”

“I’m still asking why.”

“I understood there was no major case here that he’d be interfering with,” I said. “I mean, all you were doing was looking for a missing person, right?”

“Not officially,” he said. “I think I told you only a relative could report him missing. With all due respect to you claiming to be his … second cousin.”

“Then why were you even looking?”

Stanze scanned the room.

“To be honest? Because the case involved Marilyn Monroe.”

I pointed to him. “You don’t act impressed,” I said, “but you are. You’re impressed with Marilyn Monroe.”

“I’m not impressed,” Stanze said, looking around again, “but like every other red-blooded male in America, she makes me horny as hell.”

“Are you married?” I asked.

“No.”

“So when you found out I was staying with her you were hoping to meet Marilyn?”

“Okay,” Stanze said, looking embarrassed, “I admit that was the truth … before this became a murder case. But I do need a statement from her, and I’m willing to go to Palm Springs to get it, rather than make her come back here.”

“Just to be nice.”

“Don’t let him kid you,” Detective Bailey said, coming up behind his partner. He put both hands on Stanze’s shoulders. “All he’s been talkin’ about since he met you is his meeting with Marilyn Monroe. You better believe he wants another helping.”

“Dave-”

“Oops, sorry,” Bailey said. “I’ve cracked the professional veneer.”

I knew then who Stanze kept looking around for.

“Dave, I can fill you in later on what’s going on,” Stanze said.

“Sure, partner,” Bailey said. “I can take a hint.” He looked at us. “Gents.”

“Guess I should’ve warned you he was comin’ up behind you,” I said. “Sorry.”

“He’s six months from retirement,” Stanze said. “Every month he gets … worse.”

“So he’d be going to Palm Springs with you?”

“Yes, but I’ll do my best to keep his mouth shut.”

I looked at Jerry, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Okay,” Stanze said, “so you’re not going to terminate Fred Otash.”

“He’s the one who found that clerk,” I said. “If he’d been alive, maybe he would’ve found Danny, so no, I’m not gonna fire him.”

“Then he better stay out of my way as far as the murder is concerned.”

“He’s gonna keep lookin’ for Danny,” I said.

Stanze looked at Jerry.

“You got anything to say?”

“Mr. G.’s doin’ okay,” Jerry said.

“Yeah,” Stanze said. “Now we’re done. Set up those statements for tomorrow.”

I stood up. Jerry hesitated, and when Stanze didn’t say anything else, he got up.

“I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Jerry and I left the station.

In the car I said, “What do you think?”

“Dog and pony show,” Jerry said.

“Too rehearsed, right?”

Jerry nodded.

“The partner’s close to retirement, so he’s supposed to be the comic relief.”

“Stanze is just too damn friendly,” Jerry said, “and the comment about Miss M. makin’ him horny?”

“Just to make us think he’s one of us boys.”

“Right.”

“So then why the trip to Palm Springs?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Jerry said, “he’s really a fan of Mr. S.’s.”

“I guess that’s possible,” I said. “Damn, I hate to ask this of Frank.”

“He’ll do it,” Jerry said.

“Oh, I know he’ll do it,” I said, “I just hate to ask.”