Watching The Detectives Ch. 01

'Bingo! Arthur Casey, Private Investigator.'

On the inside of the cover, written in Raymond's scrawl, were two names, Art and Billy. Each name was accompanied by a phone number. The numbers did not match the digits of the agency.

'If Ray has their home numbers, he may know them personally.' She examined exhibit A. 'This book is old and frayed. Only a few matches remain. He's known these men for a while.'

Kat copied the information on a pad, removed the top two sheets to not leave an indentation of her notes, and replaced the matchbook, then she pulled the Yellow Pages from Raymond's desk, flipped to private investigators, and found the listing. She wrote down Arthur Casey's office address.

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--- '63 FALCON ---

Later that day, she led the Black Ford around town running errands, but mostly driving aimlessly just to make him burn gas and wonder what the hell she was doing. While walking into her favorite butcher shop, she got a good look at the man, much younger than his partner, handsome, but in need of a shave and a haircut.

When the weekend arrived, and Raymond was out chasing golf balls, Kat checked the street. His spies were off duty. She drove by their office in the community of Greenfield. The Valiant and Falcon were parked out back. She parked in an adjacent lot of an apartment building. She saw the young man leave in a white Dodge. Kat wanted to follow him but didn't have time. Raymond would be home soon.

On Monday, the older man drove a blue Chevrolet Impala, 24T-777. Two days later, the younger man arrived in the white Dodge Coronet, 520-78Z. They were attempting to be less conspicuous. Kat watched the detectives day after day, noting their arrival times, the cars they drove, which man was on duty, and the time they left; usually the moment Raymond arrived home from the office.

Kat kept Glo up to date on her domestic drama, talking quietly on the phone in the master bedroom while Raymond watched baseball downstairs in the living room.

"This is ridiculous. They know I'm aware of them. That's why they've changed cars. They know I won't do anything suspicious. I certainly won't be seen with another man. Why keep this up? Are they simply billing time and cashing checks?"

"Of course they are," Glo said. "They have a live one on the line, a jealous husband willing to pay. Maybe they're reporting phony suspicious behavior to keep the scam going."

"I hope not. I have nothing to hide. I don't need someone feeding Raymond rumors."

"Neither does Jelly. He writes his jealous fantasies in his twisted mind. You need to put an end to this, Kat. Tell Raymond to call his creeps off."

"Not yet," Kat said. "I have a game I'd like to play, maybe. I'm thinking about it."

"Don't mess with these men. You have no idea who they are."

"I intend on finding out who they are. Then we'll see where that leads me."

If Raymond knew in advance that Kat intended to go out at night, his spies worked overtime, going wherever she went. When Raymond had plans in the evening, they remained on watch at the house until he returned home. On poker night with his golfing buddies, that shift ran past midnight.

For the second weekend, there were no spies on her street during the day when Ray was at the club. Kat made note of this. After a third week of documenting the activity of two bad detectives, and leading them on long drives all over Pittsburgh and the suburbs, Kat felt she had good intel on their patterns. She could predict which man would be on her on a given day.

On a sunny Saturday morning in July, one of Ray's golfing buddies picked him up for a round. As expected, no man was staking out the house. Kat safely concluded this was a weekday case for them, watching the hot young wife while the husband was at the office with occasional night duty.

Kat took Raymond's sea green Cadillac deVille for a spin to stake out the office of Arthur Casey, private eye. She felt her bright red Toronado, the car they'd been focused on for at least a month, would betray her. She rolled up to the office and drove around back where the black Ford, green Plymouth, and blue Chevy were parked.

The detective agency shared a building with three other businesses, an insurance agent, a realtor, and an accountant.

'What a boring building.'

There were plenty of cars in the lot to blend in with. She parked in the back, away from the building, and opened the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. With Ray playing eighteen, plus lunch at the nineteenth hole, she had all morning.

At 11:05, the younger scruffy guy came out the back door and went to the Ford. As he was about to open the car door, the older man followed, yelling something at him. She strained to listen. The young man's voice was louder and deeper.

"How about you handle your business old man, and stay the hell out of mine."

The old guy had a weak voice. He was shouting, but it was imperceptible. Kat had no problem hearing the kid.

"I did the work. You got paid. I'll handle the case my way and you do whatever the fuck it is you do."

He got into the '63 Falcon, slammed the door, and raced out of the parking lot squealing his tires. Kat heard the engine roar. She nodded.

'That's definitely the V8.'

The older guy threw his hands up, "Goddammit!" That, she heard.

'These guys are partners? Yikes. They communicate worse than my marriage.'

Impulsively, Kat turned the key and shifted into drive. Without even thinking about it, she followed the '63 Falcon. Billy drove fast, so she had to step on it and keep her eyes open as she was well over the speed limit of 35. Driving Ray's Cadillac was risky business. She raced across town for a few miles, maintaining a distance with two or three cars always between them.

'Damn, he's crossing the river.'

Kat had to make a quick decision as she neared the bridge. She noted the time and chose to continue over the Hot Metal Bridge to the south bank of the Monogohelia. Billy led her to a medium-sized residential building in South Side Flats, The Rosewood Apartments.

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--- BORING HOUSEWIFE ---

Once or twice every week, Kat and Gloria met for lunch or happy hour, where she kept Glo in the loop on her detective work. Her best friend since grade school was both repulsed and fascinated by the intrigue. After their waitress took their lunch order, Kat filled Glo in.

"For three weeks I've maintained a regular schedule, running the same errands on the same days so my watchdogs become familiar with my patterns."

"Why? I thought you were going to screw with them."

"I do, we go on a long slow drive, and then I race like the devil. I'm totally messing with them. I always run the same errands and take the same long routes home. I'm lulling them to sleep with my boring housewife life."

"I'm not understanding your plan."

"Well, by now they probably know my daily routines and the routes so well that when I do something out of the ordinary, it'll be obvious. I'm gonna give the private dicks something to think about."

"What are you gonna do?"

"It's a secret, for now. Trust me, it will screw with their stupid male brains, but they won't be able to report what I've done to Raymond."

"Why?"

"Not sayin'."

Gloria threw her napkin down. "Awww, c'mon, you can't leave me hanging like this."

Kat smiled. "Sure I can."