Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 01 - Bogey Nights (28 page)

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said, heading for the stairs and bed.

Chapter Thirty

W
hen Chris opened the morning paper he was greeted with the story of the second body found buried on the grounds at our restaurant. He showed it to me before Mikey came down for breakfast. Sharon had been fair and hadn’t sensationalized the article as much as I thought she would, but she reiterated that there’d been another body found in the cellar at an earlier date. Of course, thanks to Janet, she didn’t have too much information to work with yet.

I figured I’d better start putting out fires before they even ignited, so when Mikey came down I told him what had happened.

“Wow! Another stiff? Wait ‘til I get to school and tell Danny and the other kids.”

“No, no, no!” I said frantically
. “The thing is that we want to play it down. If the kids bring it up, try to talk about something else.”

“Like that’s gonna work,” Chris said.

“Well, it’s certainly worth a shot.”

“Let me know how that one works out.”
Chris turned back to the newspaper.

“Mikey, I don’t want to get in trouble with your teacher again,” I said, working on his sympathies.

“Now you know how
I
feel.” My son turned his attention to his cinnamon toast, but I could see he wasn’t feeling very sorry for his ol’ mom. I thought he was probably more interested in playing P.I. at school again.

“I’ll call your teacher and warn her,” I said.

After breakfast, Chris took Mikey to school and I telephoned Mrs. Stanhope.

“I’ve already seen the newspaper,” she said, “and I’m phoning your friend, the private investigator, this morning
. I spoke to the principal, Mr. Freeman, but he seems to feel this isn’t your fault. He agreed that bringing someone in to talk to the children might be a good idea.” She didn’t sound like she agreed with him.

“Of course, it’s not our fault
.
I
didn’t bury any bodies on our lot.” I hadn’t realized that Mrs. Stanhope was blaming us for the discoveries. “We’re innocent victims here.”

“
Michael has become quite popular at school because he tells stories that fascinate the other children. And now he’s insisting that the other children call him
Ace
.” She sounded quite disgusted. “It’s really a shame he can’t turn his storytelling into something useful.”

Something useful, my foot!
I hoped Mikey would grow up to be a billionaire mystery writer, and I wanted to rub Mrs. Stanhope’s nose in it when it happened. I realized that talking to her was a lost cause and ended the conversation as gracefully and quickly as possible, while trying not to make matters worse.

While Chris was gone
, the manager for a band called about working for us at the new restaurant. When I learned their brand of music was Hip Hop, I explained that we were presenting forties music only. The agent was disappointed but understood and said he’d look through his files to see if he had any other bands available, informing me that there wasn’t too much call for our type of music.

Chris arrived home and had a hangdog look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Mrs
. Stanhope met us at the curb. She told me she’d talked to you, and she tried to bawl me out about the new stiff. What are the chances of transferring Ace to a different class? I thought about that all the way home. It’s not Mikey’s fault any more than it’s ours.”

“I’ll look into it, but really, Chris,
there’s only about a month of school left anyway. And he’ll have a different teacher next year.”

“But in the meantime, this woman could scar him for life.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit?”

“I’ve never had a son before and I want things to be right for him.”

“Chris, sweetie, Mikey will be fine. He won’t be scarred for life, and he’ll learn a few lessons about taking care of himself. He doesn’t act like this is really bothering him, so let’s play it by ear for now.”

He thought about what I said
. “I suppose you’re right. I had a couple of doozies when I was in school, and I turned out jake. Don’t ya think?”

“I do
, sweetie. You turned out just fine, and then some. Now why don’t we call Sarah Pensella and see if she can tell us anything about the boarding house?”

“Good idea
. I’ve got the number right here.” Chris pulled a paper out of his pocket, obviously thinking along the same lines that I was.

Chris punched in the phone number, but Sarah was out having her hair done
. Her husband said she’d be home after her appointment and running some errands, and he’d have her call us back. He didn’t sound surprised, so I assumed that Charlotte’s cousin had probably called to warn her that we’d be in touch.

I cleaned up the kitchen and
started dusting before the phone rang. I answered, but it wasn’t Sarah. It was Janet, calling to tell us that the coroner had determined Blakely had a history of polio. I sat down and told her about our conversation with Charlotte, and that we had a call in to Sarah Pensella.

“You two are really on the ball,” she said, after listening to me
. “It is interesting that Charlotte said she’s been following our progress. I’ll ask around to see if anyone knows her. I’m curious.”

We hung up and I returned to my dusting
. Chris was in the spare bedroom/office, looking for more information on the Internet. It was a quiet morning, for the most part. I finally remembered to tell him about the agent who’d called while he was gone.

“That reminds me,” he said, “I’ll be driving over to listen to a band this afternoon
. They came highly recommended, so I’ll give them a listen. Want to come with me?”

“I do
. Let’s leave early and go by
Daniel’s
first. Maybe we can find out something there. You never know.”

“Pamela, why don’t you call Constance and ask if she can pick Mikey up for the next couple of days
? After that he’ll be at his grandparents’ house for a few days and we won’t have to worry about him.”

“Good idea
. If you can believe it, one of his best friends is Constance. He loves spending time with her, and she dotes on him.”

I called her and she was delighted to have Mikey in the afternoon for a few days
. “Just be sure to let me know if you want me to feed him or not,” she said.

“Why don’t you plan on feeding him,” I said
. “We’ve got so many things going on that I don’t want to leave you in the lurch, not knowing what to do.”

Chris and I waited until around one o’clock, but Sarah didn’t call back
. We had things to do and decided we’d call her back that evening.

We drove over to
Daniel’s
, but they were closed. I peeked through the window and saw a woman working on papers at the bar, so I knocked.

She climbed down from the barstool and met us at the door, unlocking it and opening it only slightly
. “Sorry, but we’re closed. Come back after three.”

“We’re not here for a drink
. Can we talk to you for a minute?”

“About what?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Would you happen to know anything about this place when it was called
Dapper Dan’s
?” Chris asked.

Her face lit up like a neon sign
. “As a matter of fact, I do. What do you want to know?”

“Can we come in?” I asked
. “We’d like to ask a few questions about the people who used to hang out here, back in the forties. We’d be more than grateful if you can help us.”

“Who are you?” she asked, studying Chris.

“Pamela and Chris Cross,” I said. “We owned
Good Joe’s Honky Tonk
before it burned down.”

She stepped back and let us in, closing and locking the door behind us
. “I remember reading about the fire in the newspaper. My condolences on the loss of your restaurant. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I lost this place. It’s been in the family for years.” She climbed back up on the barstool and motioned for us to join her on the adjoining stools.

“Thanks,” I said, grunting as I pulled myself up
. “We’ll be reopening at a new location in a few months.”

“You say your family has owned
Daniel’s
for years?” Chris asked. “Would that include the nineteen-forties?”

“You betcha
. My grandfather was the original owner. He opened this place back in the thirties, and the family has kept it going all this time.”

While she continued to study Chris, I studied her
. She appeared to be in her seventies, and she was still very attractive. Of average height, she’d held onto her figure as much as any woman can. Like Chance, she wore her hair in a French braid. Unlike Chance, she seemed to have a pleasant demeanor. She was wearing jeans and a blouse and didn’t look like she had an extra ounce of fat on her. Running a bar can do that to you. You’re busy all the time.

“By the way,” she said, holding out her hand to Chris, “my name is Freddi Timberline
. So what do you want to know?”

“Well,” I began,
drawing her attention to me, “it’s like this. We’re working on solving a murder, and…”

Freddi’s expression turned from one of curiosity to one of intense interest.

“…this was a crime that happened back in the forties.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I read something about that in the newspaper
. That was
your
new restaurant where they found the two bodies?”

“It was,” Chris said
. “The sister of one of the victims has asked us to look into his death, and it seems that at least a few of the people involved may have hung out at
Dapper Dan’s
. One woman tells us that she used to sing here.”

“The family has passed down stories over the years, and I do recall my father saying that for a few years my grandfather let a couple of different people come in and sing
. We don’t do that anymore, but I guess they had a lot of fun back then. It wasn’t like karaoke is now; they had to actually be talented to sing here. With karaoke, you’re taking your chances.”

“Speaking of chances,” Chris said, “one of the women was named Chance Murphy
. Do you recall anyone ever mentioning her?”

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t remember the names
. I remember some of the stories, but that’s about it.” Freddi climbed down from her stool and headed behind the bar. “Would you like iced tea or coffee? I can’t offer you any booze right now.”

“Iced tea would be great,” I re
plied.

“Same for me,” Chris said.

I was sure Freddi was doing some fast remembering while she poured our drinks, so I kept my mouth shut, letting her think.

“I do
recall my grandfather talking about two women who sang here around the same time. Apparently they were friends, but they had an argument that had something to do with the singing. I guess one of them was jealous of the other one. They were both quite talented, but after their argument they disappeared. My grandfather was sorry because they brought in the business. They were pretty, from what he said, and they each sang like songbirds. Yes, I do remember that story.”

“Do you remember anything else about the women?” Chris asked
. “Did your grandfather tell any other stories?”

Freddi set our drinks in front of us and held up a bowl of sugar packets, looking at us expectantly.

I nodded and she set the bowl in front of us, along with a couple of straws.

She returned to her stool and surveyed the cocktail lounge
. “This place hasn’t really changed all that much since the forties. Oh, we’ve done some minor redecorating a couple of times and updated the music, but basically what you see is what you would have seen then. It was a classy joint and it was successful. Why change what works?”

I followed her gaze around the room
. It was a nice place, and it had been taken care of over the years. There were booths along the walls, tables in the center of the room, and the bar where we sat. I saw pictures of people on the walls, and got up to take a closer look. There were some very familiar Hollywood faces along with a few politicians, and all of the photos were signed. The only lights that were on were the ones at the bar, and they were subdued. There was a small stage at the rear of the room.

Freddi followed my progression around the room
. “We haven’t used the stage in years, but I can’t bring myself to tear it out. Maybe one of these days we’ll bring back live entertainment. But for now, this is a place where people can come to unwind. We get a lot of traffic from the courthouse, including judges and attorneys. We have local doctors who come in to forget their day. All kinds of people come in here, and they all seem to be looking for a quiet corner. We provide that, along with tables for those who’re wheeling and dealing, and those who’re in a group.”