Goodbye Natalie
Chapter Ten: Dirty Secrets
The sun was only slightly beginning to tint the window shades when Fallon Dawn first awoke. It was the aroma of steaming coffee that triggered her senses, lulling her out of the comforting, warm security of the soft covers. She wasn’t well rested, sleep had been fitful and intermittent. She’d dreamt of walking along an endless beach, the waves rolled softly over her feet, nipping with frothy wetness. Some dead sea creature lay ahead in her path and as she neared, she discovered it to be the discarded body of Emma Cuenca... face up, eyes staring at her forlornly, as if calling out to save her. But the corpse was cold and lifeless and any beckoning must be Fallon Dawn’s conscience or the poor deceased girl’s spirit crying out from beyond. She cradled Emma’s naked carcass, trying to warm life back. Her tears flowed in silent sobs and she willed herself to wake from the dream to find Joanie Kwan lying close, wiping the moisture from her face. Joanie, patted her hair and stroked her cheek and offered a comforting, ”Shhh...” Fallon fell back asleep and returned to the deserted beach but now the waves had claimed their bounty and Emma was gone. The cloudless sky burst open into a violent storm, a rolling sea pulled Fallon into its embrace, over-powering her weak resistance. As she was dragged into the cavernous deep, the sweet release of powerlessness overcame her and allowed her to fall free at last. She let go of fear and responsibility and worries and life...she allowed herself to feel the warm pressure crushing and enveloping her, carrying her further and further into the darkness.
She rolled over finally and sipped the still warm coffee. Joanie Kwan was showering and singing a ballad in Chinese. When she stepped from the bath, drying her hair vigorously, Fallon Dawn momentarily felt embarrassed to have the naked stranger in her little apartment. Kwan wasn’t the least bit self-conscious however, and boldly sat on the bed near her. Fallon tried not to notice Kwan’s perfect breasts as they bounced in unison with her movements. She could smell her musky cleanness and her bare hips pressed firmly against Fallon’s waist. She continued her hair drying and turned to look at Fallon Dawn interestedly.
”You like?”
Fallon finally exhaled, thus realizing she’d been holding her breath. The butterflies and internal rumblings were unexpected and unusual. Surely this wasn’t some carnal sexual manifestation suddenly come to light, long hidden and unknown and unlocked by the presence of a beautiful nude exotic nymph. The internal turmoil rumbled like a burgeoning volcano and Fallon fought it off, refusing to give in like a timid teenager on a first date. After all, she’s not a lesbian! Looking at Kwan’s fresh, pristine beauty, the full lips only inches from her own, the dark eyes, deep and mysterious & alive with possibilities...did she like? Well...”I...I...”
“You like the coffee?”
”Huh?” A blink of confusion. ”Oh, the coffee...Yes! Yes, very nice.” She took a much too big gulp from the mug and pulled the covers up over her own bare breasts. The blanket rubbed electricity across her erect nipples.
”I’ll make you some breakfast.” Before she jumped up, Kwan leaned in close. ”Thank you for last night.”
Fallon flashed back on rescuing Kwan from the kidnap attempt outside of the Dragon Lady. My God! She’d shot a man last night. ”Oh, well...I couldn’t just let him drag you off, now could I?”
Kwan smiled and leaned in, touching noses like an Eskimo kiss. ”Yeah, that too.” She jumped up and began preparing breakfast.
Before leaving for the office, Fallon Dawn instructed Kwan to stay inside, keep the door locked and not let anyone know where she was until she could figure out the best course of action. She opted to switch out her own car for a rental, just in case Kwan’s jilted kidnapper caught a glimpse. She took a circuitous route to work, driving slowly down Ardmore near the Dragon Lady Bar to see if the police had shown up, or if her shooting victim had been discovered. She didn’t know if he’d survived the point blank assault from her little Colt pistol, or how far he might have gotten with what she thought must be six slugs in him. As she turned onto Sixth Street from Ardmore, she saw that the perpetrator’s Cadillac was gone and there was no sign of police activity. Could he really have shrugged off the shooting and merely drove away? She didn’t know what she had expected to find and now her mind was muddled with the myriad of complications presented. If Kwan’s would-be kidnapper was still alive, he might possibly still be after her. And now, he’d be after Fallon Dawn as well. She couldn’t go to the police because Kwan was hysterically paranoid about being deported and she feared police involvement above the stalking of an obvious psychopath. And, she’d given her word. Then, there was Frankie Valentine, who may or may not be a murderer, but none-the-less, was or should be a person of interest in the Emma Cuenca homicide. Should she put the cops onto Frankie? That might mean admitting that she’d been in Emma’s apartment and had lied to Detective Bonetti. Better give that more thought.
She parked the rental behind the Hollywood office and walked up the stairs deep in thought. She was hoping for a quiet day in order to mull over her options. She wasn’t a full two days yet into the P.I. trade and the bodies, lies and disjointed clues were cluttering up her mind like backed up sewage. Maybe she wasn’t, in fact, cut out for the inevitable complications of detective work, just as Alan Rassmussen’s killer had warned, maybe these things were better left for others. Those more seasoned and experienced and worldly.
As she slid the key into the office door, intuitive alarm bells signaled an internal warning. She stepped cautiously into the reception area between the A-1 Detective Agency and Burl Barnes’ law office and listened for any movement. After doing her detective one-o-one research in Alan’s library, one of the first things she’d learned was to trust your instincts and notice everything. The phone on the reception desk had been moved slightly, and the call book was askew from it’s usually positioning. She quickly surmised that Attorney Barnes wasn’t in yet, so it likely wasn’t his doing, but it was possible the cleaning crew had repositioned the items. She slowly reached into her handbag for the Colt, just in case. Panic swept through her as she realized she’d left the pistol on her nightstand! Fallon Dawn froze and her eyes locked on the floor directly in front of the A-1 Detective Agency door. The tiny bit of paper that she had wedged into the door frame had fallen and lay as silent evidence that someone had been in Alan’s office, or worse, might still be there.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins like a freshly tapped oil well. Her heart was pounding furiously and the fight or flight responses wrestled within her. She was well-positioned to bolt out the open office door, a free escape path down the hall and back down the stairs was a tempting avenue. But, what then? Run and hide like her little kitten Baby Violet? Give credence to the fear that she was still the little girl she sometimes felt she was’? Or, stand up and face whatever lies behind the door? She wanted to pee and puke and scream and run all at the same time and it was only determined stubbornness that allowed her to take a step toward the A-1 door. The least she could do would be to see if the door was locked. But, what if someone was inside? What then? A deep breath... she’d know the answers to those questions momentarily.
A clamor of footsteps out in the hall broke her intent concentration and familiar voices announced the arrival of Detective Bonetti and his partner. Fallon Dawn was surprised and not a little bit relieved at their opportune appearance and it showed on her face as the two entered the office.
”Well, hello Fallon.” Detective Bonetti smiled broadly.
She rounded the desk and inconspicuously tested the A-1 office door, it was locked. ”Hello!” Fallon took a seat at the reception desk and looked at the detectives inquiringly. ”This is a surprise.” She wasn’t lying.
Bonetti spoke. ”We were in the neighborhood, thought we’d check in and see if you happened to find a key to your boss’s office.”
Fallon’s mind raced. Whoever had been in Alan’s office was likely gone, yet, checking it out with armed police present wasn’t a bad idea. ”Well, as a matter of fact...” She deftly pulled open the upper left desk drawer and rummaged through it while slipping her fingers underneath and grabbing the key from it’s hiding place. ”I found this key, I think it might be to the office.”
”You didn’t try it?” Bonetti questioned.
Like a schoolgirl caught in a white lie, Fallon realized her lies were adding up and beginning to weave an inescapable web. ”I just came across it in the desk yesterday, I got busy and didn’t even think of that.” She offered a weak, but winning smile. It’s sometimes surprising what a pretty face can get you through. This was one of her lesser falsehoods and she hoped Bonetti wouldn’t press. Neither detective responded and Fallon took the initiative by stepping to the A-1 door and slipped the key into the lock. ”It fits.” If someone was lying in wait, she calculated that she could determine that quickly enough to duck out of the way and warn the officers. She made a show of clumsily working the key in the lock, making plenty of noise to give fair warning to anyone who might be inside. When the door opened it was quiet as a graveyard; tentatively, Fallon crept in like a cat on broken glass. The two detectives began perusing the office expertly, and seemingly half-heartedly.
”Just routine you know.” Bonetti said.
”Can I get you guys a coffee or anything?” Fallon was playing the dutiful receptionist role, no one present was aware she was knee-deep in suspense and being paid to do investigating, probably more than the two seasoned veterans.
”No thanks.” Bonetti continued rifling through Alan’s desk. ”Quite a surprise seeing you yesterday at Alexandria.”
”Yes, small world huh?” Fallon replied warily.
”You happen to remember anything? I mean, did you see anything out of the ordinary at the apartment building yesterday?” Bonetti remarked off-handedly as he searched. Fallon recognized the interview technique from a chapter on interrogations she’d come across in Alan’s detective manuals. Disarm your interview subject by not seeming to care about the answers. She wasn’t sure if Bonetti was toying with her, or if perhaps he knew more than he was saying, but she realized he surely must follow up on the fact that she was present at a murder scene, or as far as he knew, in close proximity to.
Fallon answered just as casually as Bonetti had queried. ”I was only there for a moment. I didn’t notice anything unusual...why do you ask?”
”Visiting a girlfriend, wasn’t it?”
”That’s right.” Fallon appeared calm and confident, the opposite of how she felt.
”Fallon.” Bonetti stopped searching. ”A woman was found murdered at that building yesterday, we discovered the body shortly after we ran into you. I hate to put you through this so soon after you’ve gone through your own boss’s tragedy...I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station and make a formal statement. Maybe there’s something you might remember, perhaps some detail you don’t realize is significant.”
”Murder?” Fallon appeared surprised but it was more uncertainty and fear. ”Yes, yes of course, I’ll come down and make a statement. Who was it?”
”Girl by the name of Emma Cuenca, a nurse.”
”Do you know who did it? I mean, are there suspects?”
”Not yet, something’ll turn up...it always does.” Bonetti paused. ”The truth always ends up coming out in the end with these things.”
Internally, Fallon Dawn’s organs were seizing up and twisting in ever-tightening knots. Why was she continuing to lie to the police and how long could the charade continue...maybe, she should come clean about any and all information she had. She hadn’t had a free moment to analyze all the loose parts to the mysteries and she was treading on thin ice.
”Hey Chief!” Harry Tong was searching the closet and pulled down Alan’s old hat box. The box that once held the hat that Fallon was wearing at the Alexandria murder scene yesterday. Luckily she had left it back at the apartment. Tong was examining the box carefully and quickly discovered the hidden compartment in the false bottom. He lifted the lining.
”What you got there Harry?” Bonetti asked.
”Well, nothing I guess.”
Fallon peered over Tong’s shoulder and saw that the file hidden in the hat box, was gone! It had absolutely disappeared! She felt a little faint and immediately understood that whoever had been in Alan’s office had taken that file. But why?
The detectives wrapped up their search and Bonetti faced Fallon Dawn before leaving. ”Can you come today or tomorrow, to the station I mean’.”
She gathered her wits. ”I think tomorrow is good. I have a hair appointment today.” In the outer office, Attorney Barnes arrived to work. Harry Tong went out to talk to him.
For the first time, Bonetti and Fallon Dawn were left alone in the office of the recently deceased Alan Rassmussen. For Fallon, it was extremely uncomfortable and unsettling. She just wanted him to leave, she needed to be alone in order to get some serious thinking done. Bonetti wasn’t complying and seemed to be stalling. Fallon had a feeling what was coming and she braced herself.
”Fallon.” Bonetti began, ”Would you perhaps be interested in going to dinner?”
She knew it! ”It’s just after nine a.m., isn’t that kind of early?”
”I mean sometime...with me?” Bonetti persisted.
”Aren’t you a little old for me?” Fallon was being honest.
”Well, sure...but in my defense, I’m incredibly immature for my age.”
”This is a selling point?”
”It’s one of my best qualities.”
”You’re old enough to be my father.”
”I always wanted kids.”
”Now you’re just perverted.”
”Another of my endearing traits.”
”I don’t think so.”
”There’s ice cream.”
”You’re sick.”
”It’s a cry for help.”
Fallon Dawn couldn’t help but smile at that. ”All you guys are out after one thing.”
”Ice cream?”
In spite of herself, Fallon’s defenses were faltering, she steadied.
”Detective Bonetti..”
”Nick.”
”Nick. I’m kind of going through some things right now, it’s not a good time. I need to be alone.” She wasn’t kidding.
”Is there somebody? A boyfriend?”
”It’s not that...I don’t know.” Fallon shook her head. ”I just think it’s not the right time for me, for going out I mean.”
”It’s just dinner. It’s not even a date.”
”I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Bonetti relented. ”No problem. I’m probably way out of line here anyway, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
She didn’t answer.
”I better go.”
After the detectives had left, Fallon sat at the reception desk, trying to piece together the clues and confusing events of the past couple of days. She knew she had some very loose ends to tend to, not the least of which was to contact Mirna Salguero, the woman’s name she had lifted from the mailbox at four-four-two Alexandria and used as an alibi. She was also extremely interested in where the file in the hat box had gotten to, and who might have taken it. She had a pretty good idea who the thief might be, and that meant Alan’s murderer had been in the office, and had the ability to return at any time. She thought about how that might affect her own safety, but more so, the safety of Attorney Barnes. There was one other very pointed fact that she needed to get clear on. As she entered Burl Barnes’ office, she decided the direct approach might be the best.
”Mr. Barnes, who is Jake Barnes? And, what dealings did he have with Alan Rassmussen?” Barnes looked up from his desk, his face turned sheet white and his voice sputtered when he attempted to speak.
”From where did you get that name Fallon?” Barnes managed to croak out.
”It was on a file in Alan’s office, hidden. Now it’s gone and I think someone broke in and that’s all they took, as far as I can tell.”
Barnes stared at her for a long moment, then composed himself. ”Sit down dear, there are some things I think you should know.
* * *
Driving the Hollywood streets towards the police station, Harry Tong questioned his partner. ”So, you asked her out?”
”You heard?”
”That was difficult to listen to.”
”She wasn’t interested anyway.”
”I think you almost had her with the I like kids line’.”
”Not my best stuff.”
Tong wasn’t letting him off that easy. ”You know, trying to date a possible witness in a homicide, that might be a conflict of interest or something.”
Bonetti was defensive. ”Yeah, might be. Might also be that I’m just trying to get close to get information...might be good police work! Might be I’m just being smart.”
Harry Tong sensed he’d hit a nerve. Like a sadistic dentist he probed. ”Aren’t you a little old for her?” Bonetti gave him a sideways glare. ”I’m not as old as I look.”
Tong replied under his breath. ”Not as smart either.”
”What did you say?”
”Huh? Oh, nothing.” They drove on for a few blocks. Both detectives deep in thought. Harry asked. ”You think she’s holding out?”
”Oh yeah.”
Tong continued. ”Why?”
Detective Bonetti considered his response. ”Even nice girls keep at least one dark and dirty secret to themselves Harry.”
”How dark and dirty you think hers is?”
Bonetti answered. ”In my experience, the nicer the girl, the darker and dirtier it gets.”
”She seems like one of the nice ones.” Tong said.
Bonetti took a moment to respond. ”This town ain’t kind to nice Harry, it grinds nice up and sells it by the pound like hamburger.”
”Whatta ya plan to do Chief?”
”Keep an eye on her, give her some time to come around.”
”And if she doesn’t?”
Bonetti
considered an answer. ”That’d mean she’s in this thing deeper
than we, or maybe even she expected. If that’s the case, it may already
be too late for her.”
* * * *
