A Kiss Between Murders

"Hey boss. Where are you? It's after nine." Vera sounded worried.

"I'll be there soon." My head was spinning.

"Lt. Dobbs called. He's waiting for you at the city morgue."

"Shit. Alright. Oh, see what you can find on Mona Morgan."

"Right away, boss."

I hung up the phone. Christ, Dobbs. After a shower I thought about the way Tommy cried over Evelyn's body. Who would've thought he had a soft spot. He really loved her. Maybe I could use that against him next time we met.

I made it downtown around ten thirty. Dobbs was waiting in the hallway piling up a small mound of cigarette butts in the ashtray. He was his usual pleasant self.

"Where the hell have you been?" He sounded like he'd had a bad night but it couldn't have been worse than mine.

"I was meeting my decorator. I'm looking to change the look of my office."

"Smart ass. Follow me." He crushed his cigarette on the floor and we went through the morgue doors. You'd think it would be quiet as a church bell on Monday. Nothing but the sound of your stompers among the dead to remind you, better them than you. But the morgue was a pretty lively place if you'll excuse the pun. Attendants bustling back and forth, detectives asking questions hoping for a lead in a case, and the sound of bone saws making themselves useful.

It was pretty routine except for the cold. It should be a relief coming out of the hot sun but it wasn't. The cold felt alive, like it seemed to know how to get inside me. I'd seen my share of dead bodies in the war, but it was different down there. It wasn't hard to forget all the people I killed during and after the war, but it just takes one particular body to take all the fun out of the morgue. We walked past several sheet-covered tables until we came to where Evelyn Crandle lay. Only her face was uncovered. Now that she was dead, she showed some humility by covering herself up.

"Something you want to tell me?" Dobbs had his arms folded and resting on his ever growing belly.

"I like your aftershave." I folded my arms as well.

"Listen shithead. I got a witness that places you at the scene last night, running from the Sunset hotel while being chased by a steam roller dragging a pet radiator on a leash."

"I was following up a lead. I went to question her about Jimmy Morgan."

"Why?" He tossed the sheet back over her head and waved to the attendant who pushed the table back into the fridge unit.

"I can't tell you, Lou. Client confidentiality."

"What client?"

"I do work, Lou, when I'm not passing time with our pleasant chit chats."

"You better watch your step, McCabe. You're my number one suspect now."

"C'mon, Lou. Even you can do better than that." I stepped away from the table.

"How about this?" he said. "Ballistics made a match on the bullet with the one we dug out of Morgan's brain pan. I'm thinking Jimmy boy was messing with the wrong woman and her jealous boyfriend found out about them."

"You see Lt. That's why I could never make it on the force. I'm just not as smart as you." I pulled my coat tight around me and turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Back to my decorator. I need to discuss the color of my curtains." The cold had its fingertips digging beneath my skin and I had to get out of there.

"McCabe!"

I left the Lieutenant in good company and returned to the overbearing heat.

_________________________________________________________________

Back at the office Vera had a cup of coffee ready for me.

"Look who decided to show up for work."

"You can send a letter home to my parents if you like."

Vera handed me the cup and then picked up my messages and read them off. "Mr. Lacey called. He wants to know if you found out anything yet about his wife and if, and I quote, that cock-sucking bitch is screwin' my best friend or some other prick."

"You can pick up the photos from Smitty. Call Lacey back and tell him to meet me tomorrow morning at ten." I took a sip and cringed.

"Ok. And Mrs. Drumwell called. She wants to know if we found her husband, and I quote, and if that shit heel thinks he can just dump me with the kids he's got another thing coming."

"Call her back. Tell her to come in at ten thirty. Call Smitty and tell him I need the Drumwell photos this afternoon and to call us when they're ready."

"Right. I dug up some info on Mona Morgan. I left it on your desk."

I took another sip and wondered if this stuff was illegal. Vera was a great secretary but the coffee she made here was even worse than at my apartment. If it wasn't for its medicinal properties I would've thrown the percolator out of the office a long time ago.

I went into my office and sat down at my desk. With my feet comfortably propped up, I read the report on Miss Morgan. Seems she worked for Phillips Construction, personal assistant to Emmett Phillips. Emmett and his brother Harold also owned Phillips Consolidated, which owned quite a number of oil rigs on Signal Hill near Long Beach. Mona was doing alright for herself until last week when Emmett got himself killed in a car accident on Mulholland. That left Harold in charge and Mona out on her heels.

I took the Jimmy Morgan file out of the drawer, along with a set of keys that I'd snatched from his house the night he died. The key ring held what looked like a car key and a house key. I buzzed Vera.

"Yeah, Mike?"

"Find out if Jimmy Morgan's car was impounded."

"Right away."

Twenty minutes later Vera buzzed back. "According to the report, Jimmy hasn't owned a car for some time."

"Thanks, Vera."

There was a cabin in the Los Angeles foothills that Jimmy used to use when he needed to dry out or when he shacked up with someone's wife. If he was hiding a car, that would be good place to stash it.

The small house off Canyon road was almost hidden behind a block of trees. I parked in front and stepped out of the car. It wasn't as hot up there and the cool breeze felt good against my face. It was secluded and quiet and about as private as you could get.

There was a small garage that stood separate from the house. Of course, the door was locked so I went around to the window. Inside was a dark blue Buick Skylark. New model. The car had been pulled in front first but I could still some front end damage. I took down the license plate number.

I went up to the house and was about to knock to see if anyone was home. On a hunch I tried the key from Jimmy's key ring. The key fit. I went in and closed the door. There wasn't much in the place. A sofa against the picture window and a couple of overstuffed chairs. Table and chairs in the kitchen. Funny, there were no pictures on the walls. I checked the fridge. There was food inside. Had Jimmy been up here recently?

I heard a door open in the other room. I took out my gun and pointed it at the bedroom door which suddenly opened. I was treated to the sight of Mona Morgan in the buff.

She gasped but regained her composure real fast.

"Mr. McCabe. You startled me."

I didn't know what to say at first so I just let my eyes do the talking.

"Do you intend on shooting me Mr. McCabe or just keeping me prisoner?" She put her hands on her hips and waited for an answer.

"I don't think either of those would benefit of us, Miss Morgan." I put the gun away and she walked past me into the living room.

"Call me Mona." She went into the kitchen and came out with two glasses. "Drink, Mr. McCabe?" Without waiting for an answer she took a bottle from a cabinet near the picture window and held out a glass for me.

"What are you doing here, Miss Morgan? I took the glass and she filled it before pouring herself a drink.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Or is it common practice for Los Angeles private detectives to break into people's home while they're taking a bath?"

"I didn't break in. I had a key. I didn't know you were here."

"Well, as you can see I am."

"Yes. I can see that. Don't you want to put something on?"

"Why. Do I make you nervous?" She smiled and slowly drank her drink.

"I'm not the nervous type."

"What type are you?" Her eyes took in all of me like a mountain lion ready to devour its prey.

"The suspicious type." I set my glass down on the coffee table.

"And what do you suspect me of?"

"Disturbing the peace. What are you doing here?" I looked out the window at the driveway.

"This place belonged to our father. I thought I would be more comfortable here than in a hotel."

"Where's your car?"

"I took a taxi." She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. "Would like to sit down?"

"Whose car is in the garage?" I sat in one of the big chairs.

"Must have been Jimmy's."

She picked up my drink and brought it to me. "And what are you doing here, Mr. McCabe?"

"I was looking into your brother's death."

"I was hoping you came here to see me. To fill me in on what you've found out so far." She sat down in my lap and put her arms around my neck.

"I understand your boss died up in these hills."

"Yes. Some people are just unlucky."

"Do you consider yourself lucky, Miss Morgan?"

"Don't I feel lucky?" She took my hand and placed it on her breast.

"You like to play, don't you Miss Morgan?"

"No, Mr. McCabe. I like to win." She traced her finger against my cheek and kissed me gently then pulled back.

"Is this one of the benefits of being in your employ?" My hand was still on her breast. I could feel her heart beating faster.

"Are you complaining?"

"No." I kissed her hard. She tasted like silk sheets and chauffeured limousines, that is, until she bit my lip. Then all I could taste was my own blood. I pushed her away spilling my drink. I wiped my mouth and saw a little blood on my hand. The rest of it she was licking off her lips.

She laughed when she saw my reaction. I stood up and she fell on the floor. She just lay there on her back slowly opening her legs.

"Too rough for you, Mr. McCabe?" Her fingers lightly touched between her legs.

"Let's find out." I took off my clothes and left them on the floor. I opened those gams wide and shoved my face between her legs. I was hungry now and she was the tasty meal. Her scent was musky and she was wet. I shoved my tongue inside her and she tasted like VJ Day, where every bum who made it home alive had a grateful gal in the sack.

She liked what I was doing and shoved my head down hard but I wasn't having any of that. I lifted up and tried to get on top off her, but she raised her feet and shoved me away. Then she ran into the bedroom. I ran after her and caught her by the arm. I whirled her around and pushed her face down on the bed. She laughed again.

"Are you gonna fuck me, Mr. McCabe?" She was taunting me but I didn't care. I wasn't about to let her run the show.

"No." I said. I was starting to enjoy myself.

"What?" She turned over and stared at me like I'd killed her cat. My dick was hard and I was ready, but instead I backed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stepped in and felt ten pounds of sweat and grime wash down the drain. I knew she wouldn't wait long and sure enough the hot steam was leaving the stall as she opened the curtains and stepped in. She brought the heat back as soon as she got under the water with me and wrapped her mouth around my prick.

I was ready now, so I pulled her up. She kissed me roughly but not enough to shed blood this time. She grabbed my dick and led me out of the shower. We were dripping everywhere and the shower was still running, but she didn't seem to care too much about the water bill.

She turned me around and pushed me down on the bed. She climbed on top, buried my dick in her soft, moist cleft, and rode me like a rodeo queen. She was bouncing up and down so hard I thought she would snap my dick two. The deeper she took me in the more she dug her nails into my chest. I was wondering if I'd have any blood left by the time we were done.

I still had enough in the place I needed it most, so I rolled over and started my own ride. The whole bed shook as I grabbed her waist and jammed my dick halfway into her internal organs. She was unrelenting. She bucked and screamed, grabbing my ass cheeks and pulled me in. I was about to come and she sensed it because she pushed me away and went down on her knees.

I was about to pop and her mouth was doing everything possible to make sure that happened. She took me in all the way to hilt and I exploded in the back of her throat. She kept me inside and swallowed my load, squeezing every drop out. When she was done I was exhausted. I felt like I'd just gone ten rounds in the ring. She licked me clean and then asked, "How's about one more drink for the road?" She left the room and came back with my clothes in one hand and a bottle in the other.

She dropped the clothes on the bed and tossed me the bottle. I took a swig while she went into the bathroom. "Thanks for stopping by. I'll expect to hear from you tomorrow." She closed the door and I sat a moment to catch my breath.

I didn't know if she meant a report on the investigation tomorrow or another wrestling match. It didn't matter because I was working on my timetable and not hers. I got dressed and did a quick search of the bedroom. Other than a blonde wig beneath the bed I turned up as much as I'd found in the rest of the place. A big fat nothing.

Before I left I used the living room phone and called Vera to check with DMV on that license plate. I left without my goodbye kiss and headed back to downtown traffic and my office. When I got there, Vera had already gone for the day.

I made a few phone calls to Phillips Construction. According to Emily Pierce, who was the new assistant to the new director of operations, Miss Morgan had come to L.A. with Emmett Phillips for a conference. The last day of the conference, Emmett had sold his shares of the business to his brother. Then that night Emmett had driven up Mulholland and his car had gone over the side. Convenient was what I thought that was. The police had found nothing suspicious about a drunk driver meeting his maker late at night on an unfamiliar road. But where was he going? Was he on his way to that love nest in the hills? Vera had done her check with DMV on the license plate. The car was registered to Mona Morgan.

She lied about the car and Jimmy. His keys most likely went to the Skylark, so they had obviously seen each other before his death. The pieces were slowly coming together, but I was still running into a brick wall concerning Evelyn's involvement and why she and Jimmy were killed.

Something was nagging me about the blonde wig. I had a hunch and decided to talk to the front desk guy at the Sunset Hotel. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

My old buddy with the dirty t-shirt was back on duty, and as I approached the desk he picked up the phone and began dialing. I reached over and pulled the phone out of his hand and slammed the receiver down.

"Why is every time I come in here you're reaching for something?" I shoved him back and put the phone on the counter out of his reach.

"You can't just come in here like this and do whatever you want. I don't know nothing about nothing." He was probably as bad at poker as he was at lying.

"Did Evelyn ever have any special customers or anyone special she was seeing?" He looked at the phone and then under the desk.

"C'mon pal. Let's not go through that again." His eyes returned to me.

"Evelyn had a lot of special customers. She was a favorite here."

"I'm sure she was a national pastime. Did she have anyone you saw her with a lot?"

He lost his voice so I decided to help him find it. I came around the counter and pushed him into the back room. It was a storeroom filled with boxes. He fell over a stack and hit the floor. I tried to help him up by placing my foot on his throat.

"I know a guy like me doesn't look he weighs much pal, but I guarantee you I can crush your windpipe in the time it takes you to try and scream for help. So use that second like a smart boy and tell what I want to know." He gurgled something and I let up a bit so he could talk.

"A big guy came to see her every Friday night. Like clockwork. Sometimes they stayed in. Sometimes they went out."

"Anyone else?"

"There was another guy. Tall. Sometimes he joined them. Sometimes he came alone."

"What did the tall guy look like?"

"He was tall! I don't know. He had a bad eye. Always looked like he was looking at two different things at the same time. He looked familiar like I'd seen him somewhere before but I don't know." That had to be Jimmy.

"What about the night Evelyn was murdered?"

"What are you asking me for? You were here." I pressed a little harder like I was grinding out a cigarette.

"How about before I was here and the big guy came? Was there a blonde here?"

"I don't know. Have you seen the lobby? It's full of blondes. How do I know which blonde you're talking about?"

Maybe that was exactly how Mona planned it. The blonde wig kept her identity safe and she killed Evelyn without being noticed. It still didn't give me the why unless.... I didn't have a chance to finish my thought.

I felt myself being picked up by my shirt collar and thrown against the wall. A fist the size of a sledgehammer came at me and the next thing I knew I was taking a swan dive into a black murky pool. I sank deeper and deeper until the lights went out.

Before my eyes were open I could feel the cold. For a moment I thought I was back at the morgue. The thought gave me a different kind of chill. My head felt like I'd caught a home run with my face and I could taste the blood in my mouth. Lying on the floor I could hear my breathing and the soft hum of a motor from somewhere. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes .

Even with blurred vision, the overhead bulb gave enough light to show that I was in someone's nightmare. Mine was the closest candidate. My breath came in frosty clouds and, as my vision cleared, I could see I was surrounded by meat hooks dangling from the ceiling. They seemed to stretch out into the darkness on both sides of me. I heard footsteps behind me and it didn't take long to figure out they belonged to my sparring partner Tommy Hooks.

"Hey there." He stood over me like a mountain about to start a rock slide. Then he lifted me up and dropped me in a chair beneath the swinging bulb.

"Well, looks like it's your turn to answer some questions. Before I get rid of you that is."

He sat down on a chair down facing me. Slipping a meat hook off its catch Tommy turned it over and over in his meaty hands, his thumb scraping over the point.

"You know we could have just grabbed a beer down at Vicky's if you wanted to talk." I smiled and my jaw protested with a sharp stabbing pain that shot through my head.

"I just might stop by there after we're through. Nothing like a cold beer when you've worked up a sweat." He scooted his chair closer and I could see that look in his eyes, the one that told me he was going to enjoy this.

"I didn't kill Evelyn, Tommy." He slammed the hook between my legs. The point missed my valuables but the chair seat probably had a higher voice.

"Don't lie to me." His voice echoed through the warehouse, and he would've looked comical with his bulging eyes if I hadn't known how this was going to end.

"Evelyn told me you had been snooping around. She called me because she was worried about something. By the time I got there it was too late."

"Think about it, Tommy. If I murdered her why would I come back?"

"Maybe you was looking to off me, too. Thought you could sneak up on me."

"I did sneak up on you. I had you cold. If I wanted to murder you I would have done it." I had to keep him talking until I could figure a way out of this.