AAA Detective Story - Looking for Francine - Part 5

 

The doorknob is clean and polished. A stark contrast to the door and frame around it. Ken slowly turns it but it’s locked. Holstering his pistol, he pulls out his lock picks. After a few moments of lining up the pins, he turns the cylinder and the door unlocks. The door quietly opens. Ken and Joan expect loud squeaks, but the door almost silently slides on its lubricated hinges.

“Curiouser and Curiouser.” Ken whispers to Joan. She nods and holds the closed knife in her hand, ready to use it.

The old record plant smells of hot vinyl, and they hear the sound of the machines pressing disks. “Not what I expected at all.” Ken whispers.

Slowly and quietly, they move along a corridor. Old signs point to “Recording Studio” down the hall and “Offices” up the stairs. Ken pulls his pistol again and motions for them to go up the stairs. Even though the building looked abandoned from the outside, inside things are clean and maintained. As they climb the stairs, they see boxes at the end of the assembly line, full of records. Ken makes a mental note, and continues up to the office.

The office door is unlocked and also opens quietly. The lights are off, but the switch on the wall turns on the overheads. Closing the door behind them, Ken and Joan look around the office. There are framed pictures of Alison and Ben Goode on stage, or posing by an upright piano. Ken places the .45 on the desk as he searches it, not finding anything out of the ordinary. It looks like the record company is in business, pressing disks, but he doesn’t find any client lists.

Joan searches through the filing cabinet. “Most of these files are from ’44 or earlier.” She says quietly.

At the end of the room is a thick metal door with a large lock. Ken goes over and hands the pistol to Joan. “Cover me as I unlock it.” 

Using his picks, he gets it open after a couple of minutes. The large door slides on greased tracks. A switch turns on the lights and reveals an apartment. There is an electric range and kitchenette, a brass bed, and a large wardrobe with dresses. A vanity along the wall has multiple wigs with a complete set of makeup brushes and cosmetics. Joan hands Ken back his big-bore automatic. “Boss, what’s the deal? Are they living here?” Joan looks at the dishes drying next to the sink.

Ken walks to the bed. There are restraints and chains. “I think it’s worse than that. We need to find Francine.”

They close the metal door but leave it unlocked. Going through the office, they turn off the lights and slowly walk down the stairs. “If it’s bad, Boss, shouldn’t we rush down and try to find them?” she asks quietly.

Ken places his finger to his lips slowly shaking his head. “We need to keep quiet, so we don’t spook them.”

“But where are they?” She whispers. Ken points to the sign marked “Recording Studio” and motions for her to follow quietly.

At the end of the hallway, a red light bulb flashes, showing that someone is using the studio. Ken grabs the doorknob and nods to Joan. She has the knife open and at the ready. Slowly the door opens.

“No Aly, I need you to sound happier when you sing. Let’s try it from the top.” A thin masculine voice says.

Screaming though the thick glass, they hear a voice respond “I’m not Aly you sicko. How many times do I have to tell you I’m Francine?”

“Baby, you just need your medicine. If you just relax and sing, we’ll make that record. Or do you need a dose for your nerves?” the man’s voice asks.

Ken pushes in the door all the way and aims his gun at the man by the control board. “Stop right there.”

Joan follows him in. Ken nods towards the door for the booth. Joan opens it.

“No! Leave her alone. Leave us alone. We aren’t hurting anyone. Aly and I own this studio.” Ben Goode says. “We aren’t hurting anyone. Just leave us alone.” He repeats.

Ken keeps the gun trained on Ben, but notices Francine hugging Joan. Francine is wearing the same dress and wig that Alison wore on one of the record covers. They walk out of the booth.

“Don’t take her away from me. She’s the love of my life.” Ben whines.

Removing the wig, Francine throws it at him. “You sick bastard. She’s dead.” She says with a sob in her voice.

“You whore! You’re just like the others!” Ben screams as he pulls a hypodermic needle from his jacket pocket and lunges towards her.

Ken fires twice. Two red blooms form on Ben’s chest as he falls. The syringe still in his hand.

“Shit.” Ken exhales a shaky, frustrated sigh. “Let’s call Brian and have the cops come down.” They go up to the office, call, and wait.

A number of cops show up. Sergeant Hoolihan is in charge. He explains that this is his territory. He knows Sergeant Mulrooney, but this is out of his district. They each give a statement. Ken tells how he was hired to look for Francine. Joan mentions that Raymond Martin, the personal secretary of Theodore Huddler, hired them to find his cousin, Francine Martin. Francine, still wearing the dress, and a wig cap, explains that she was drugged outside of The Happy Clam, taken here, and kept prisoner. They point to the apartment behind the metal door.

“Did he hurt you miss?” The Sergeant asks, in a soft but professional tone.

She covers her face and nods as tears streak down. “He kept saying I was his wife. I needed my medicine, and then he’d… He’d…”

Joan gives her a hug. “Sergeant. Can’t you see the restraints on the bed?” Francine holds up her wrists, revealing dark pressure marks.

“Ok, Ok. I got the picture.” He says. A cop comes into the office. “Sergeant, we found a stash of drugs, down by the boxes of vinyl blanks.”

Sergeant Hoolihan nods. “Ok. Mister Cooper, Why don’t you take the ladies home? We have what we need for now.”

Ken nods as he stands and extends his hand. “I think you boys will be busy down here for a while. You might try to see if there’s any proof that he also kidnapped a Lois, Patty, and Laverne. I don’t have last names, only their stage names. They also worked The Happy Clam.”

“Oh God.” Francine exclaims “He was with Lois before she went missing. They’d sit at a table and talk some nights.” Sergeant Hoolihan writes down a few more facts, including those concerning Lois’s actions when she would be nervous and edgy then later be calm and relaxed.

Ken takes the ladies to his car. “Mister Cooper. Can we stop at The Happy Clam? I want to clean up and change out of this.” Francine asks as she points to Aly’s dress she’s still wearing. Ken agrees.

It’s just before the lunch crowd starts, but the doors are already unlocked. A couple of the working girls are having a late breakfast. They hug Francine when they see her. Tears flow freely as they are all so happy she is safe. 

Ken recognizes the guy behind the bar from the other day. “Hey Mack, got a phone I can use?” The guy behind the counter nods and motions to the payphone by the stairs. Ken nods back. Plopping in a dime, he dials Ramon’s number.

“Raymond Martin, Mister Huddler’s assistant.” The voice says.

“Ramon, It’s Ken Cooper. We got Francisco. He’s going to be okay. We’re at The Happy Clam and he’s getting cleaned up before I take him to Tia Barbara.”

“Madre de Dios, Thank you so much Mister Cooper. I’ll wait for your bill.”

“Just pay what you think is fair. If we hadn’t found him, I feel like there’d be another stiff fished out of the water. If you understand me?” Ken says in a matter of fact tone.

After a moment Ramon asks “Was he dressed as Francine?”

“No, she was dressed as Alison Goode. I’ll write a full report if you need.” Ken replies.

There is another pause. “Mister Cooper, do I really want to know?”

“I can’t tell you that. Nor can I tell you how to live. You and Teddy already live differently than me. But, I think if you love your cousin like you say, you’d see her for who she is. A beautiful and talented singer. But what do I know? I’m just a peeper who sees what others miss.” Ken turns and looks up the stairs as Joan and Francine walk down. “I gotta go. I’ve gotta take the ladies home.” He says and hangs up.

Francine’s face is made up nicely and she is wearing a simple calico dress, with a short stylish wig. Joan holds her hand to help keep her steady on the stairs.

“Are you ladies all ready?”

Joan nods. “We looked for a suit, but she only had the one she was wearing when Ben attacked her. He cut it and burned it in front of her, telling her ‘no woman of mine will dress like a man’.”

Tears well up in Francine’s eyes. “I just want to look nice and Miss Joan recommended this instead of one of my show girl dresses.”

“You both look wonderful.” Ken says as he escorts them to his car.

Soon they are at the tenements. Francine’s hands shake. “She’s never seen me like this. What if she..?”

Joan gives Francine’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be there. If there’s any fuss, we’ll come back to our office and make a new plan.” Ken nods, parks the car, and holds the door for the ladies. The mid-day sun is trying to poke through the thinning clouds.

Knocking on the door, Joan says “Tia Barbara, Hemos regresado y temenos a Francine. I mean Francisco.”

The door opens and Barbara throws her arms around Francine. “Estas a salvo, mi nino, estas a salvo.” She quickly brings them all inside her small apartment. She hugs both Ken and Joan. “Gracias. Gracias a Dios. Gracias mi nino esta a salvo y en la casa.”

Both Joan and Ken say that she is welcome. They only did what they said they would do. Ken watches as Francine and her mother talk. Francine asks something about ‘isn’t she ashamed’? And something else about ‘being a disappointment and a freak’.

Barbara replies in rapid fire Spanish, something about the village where they came from and performers who sang, danced, and dressed as they wanted. She is proud of her child. Especially if she is happy like that. 

Ken watches the tears and hugging. “Joan, I think we should get back to the office.” They try to leave but Barbara stops them and invites them back for a fiesta. Before he and Joan can turn the offer down, Francine recommends holding it at The Happy Clam on Friday night. That way her mother can hear her sing and meet some of her friends.

“The Happy Clam on Friday night. We’ll be there.” Ken says as Barbara hugs him again.

“Thank you.” She says in English.

“You’re welcome Tia Barbara.”

AAA Detective Story - Looking for Francine - Part 4

 

Ken and Max sit down at an open spot at the bar. The bartender puts a glass of beer in front of Max and asks if Ken wants a coffee. He nods for another cup. “It’ll be a long night and I need to be awake a bit longer.”

“Too bad they can’t get you some ‘Bennies’.” Max says with a grin.

Ken shakes his head, “No thanks. I saw guys on both sides getting off of those. Nothing worse than guys twitching and scratching as they come down.”

Max nods knowingly. “Popping a couple to keep awake and warm wasn’t bad, but then we had krauts shelling us.”

“I’ll stick with coffee.” Ken responds and takes another sip.

They continue talking. Max talks about how he, and most of the singers, travel as guys and dress upstairs. It also is easier for Max when he spends time with his girlfriend.

“Do you know if Francisco preferred men or women?” Ken asks.

Max sips his beer for a moment, thinking. “You know, I never asked. He never mentioned a girlfriend or boyfriend. But then again we mostly talked music and dresses.”

Ken nods. “He has lots of dresses at his hole in the wall. What about Lois?”

Max finishes his beer, grabs his travel bag, and stands up. “I gotta go. The last trolley should be coming down. I’ll be back tomorrow if you wanna buy me another beer.” He then smiles and winks. Turning to the ‘working girls’ he yells, “Goodnight ladies, be safe.”

A few of them raise their cups. “Goodnight Maxine, see you tomorrow.”

There are still gaps in what Ken needs to know. He looks to a couple of ‘girls’ who aren’t occupied. Walking over he asks “If I buy you ladies a drink, can I ask you a few questions?”

They look over towards Annabelle who nods and then goes back to talking to her ‘John’.

“Yeah, sit down Mista Coopa.” One says with a thick accent.

Her darker skinned friend smiles brightly and pats an empty chair. “Yess, pleassse sssit.”

The lighter one is Marge and the other is Kitty. “Anabelle say you tryin’ ta find th’ singas.” Marge comments.

“Sshhe sssayss you’rrre not looking for a date, but will pay for ourrr time. Kitty continues. Ken isn’t sure if Kitty’s accent is real or just part of her persona. The blonde wig and dark skin make her look exotic.

Ken nods. “When did you last see Lois, Patty, Laverne, or Francine?”

They explain that Lois hasn’t been there for a few weeks. Laverne was there on a Saturday night, two or three weeks ago. Patty was last here two Saturdays ago. Francine was last here last Saturday.

As the ladies talk Ken slips them a couple of ones. He also notices that from time to time, other girls will go upstairs with a guy.

“So what’s the arrangement with you and management?” Ken asks.

The ladies smile at each other. “If we take someone upstairs, manag’men’ gets half. It’s cost of room an’ keep thin’s clean.”

“Yess, We can also stay here. Rents cheaper most places.” Kitty explains.

“So as long as you pay your share, no one asks questions?” Ken asks. They both nod. Ken flips back on his notes. “What do you ladies know about ‘Waterfront Records’?”

Marge shakes her head, but Kitty answers “I have seen a strange man talk to the singers. He only shows up Fridays. He tries to get them to play his records. I think Lois went out with him.” It’s the first thing he’s heard about Lois and ‘Waterfront Records’.

Ken learns that Lois seemed to like the guy or at least what he offered. Something about her making records for him. He also learns that Marge thinks Lois was a doper. “Makin’ money singin’ wasn’t good enuff. She wan’ed mo’ and mo’. I didn’ see her drinkin’ but she’d be takin’ summtin’ out back.”

“And she’d get calm for a while and then she’d be all jangly.” Kitty confirms.

“Do you know where ‘Waterfront Records’ is?”

They both shake their heads. They really don’t walk around this area. The building’s safe but the neighborhood can be dicey. “Especially for ladies as lovely as you.” Ken compliments them.

Kitty softly caresses Ken’s hand. “It is ssssoo tempting to take you upstairsssss. I wouldn’t even charge much.”

Marge reaches under the table and rubs Ken’s thigh. “We don’ get many nice men here.”

Their hands are soft and warm. His piece tingles from the unexpected attention. It would be tempting to go with either or both of them, if he wasn’t looking for Francine.

Kitty leans close to Ken and whispers “When is the last time you slipped your big schlong into an ass that’s begging to be filled?”

“Or a mouth dat know’s how to take a man?” Marge finishes.

Ken slowly exhales a breath he didn’t know he drew in. “You are both very tempting. But, Ladies, I’ve got a job to do.”

“You missed the last streetcar for the night. Are you sssure you don’t want to sssstay with either of ussss?” Kitty purrs.

He swallows the last of his coffee. “Let me find Francine first.” He gets up, adjusts his pants which now feel a little too tight, then nods to them, and turns to the barkeep. “Can you call me a hack?”

“Check outside first. There’s normally a couple waiting as we get ready to close.” He replies.

Ken pulls on his coat and hat, and there are a couple of taxis waiting on the street. He grabs one and gives the driver the address to his apartment. As they drive off, he is still a little surprised at his body’s reaction to those two doxies who definitely knew what they were doing. “Too bad they aren’t real women.” He mutters to himself.

The taxi driver overhears and comments, “It’s none of my affair bub. I seen some gorgeous dames in there. Good thing I got a missus to go home to.”

Ken smiles and nods. “Yep, you’re a lucky man.”

The next morning, the alarm clock goes off and Ken unfocusedly turns it off. Sitting up, he coughs and scowls at the taste in his mouth. It’s like a dirty ashtray rinsed with old coffee. He gets up and goes to the bathroom to clean up. Tooth-powder and Listerine help with the taste, while a wash and shave makes him feel more alive.

Looking out his apartment window, the sky is still cloudy from yesterday but no rain, so far. He dresses and pulls on his overcoat. It smells like “The Happy Clam”. He’ll have to take it to the cleaners soon.

Searching for his car keys, he remembers that Joan has his car. If the weather was worse, he’d call for a ride, but he could probably use a good walk to help clear his head. Putting on his hat, walks down the stairs and out the front entrance. The wind, smelling of early spring, stings his face. Pulling up his coat collar, he walks to the office.

Walking up to the building, he see it. His car, parked on the street, near Pop’s newsstand. Pop has the morning papers held down with old bricks. “Hiya Pop. Has Joan picked up the morning sheets?”

He shakes his head. The woolen hat and matching finger-less gloves do what they can against the cold. He grabs a paper and a pack of Lucky Strikes. “Here you go Ken.”

Ken hands him a dollar. “Keep the change. Do you need me do send down some coffee?”

“Naw, not today.” Pop pulls up a thermos from under the shelf. “The Misses made me some this morning. She said she’ll drop more off with my lunch.”

“You’re a lucky man Pop, and she’s a keeper.” Ken says with a grin.

As he opens the door to his office, he smells freshly made coffee. “Mornin’ Boss. Ya got the paper?” Joan asks as she sips from her cup. He nods as he lays it on her desk, before removing his hat and coat.

“Here’s your keys. Thanks for the car.” She says with a smile.

Ken gives her a strange look as he pockets them. “You’re welcome, but why?”

She gives him a knowing smile. “Your back seat is larger than Pete’s beater. I drove him to the club, and after the show, we found out just how roomy the backseat was.”

Ken shakes his head. “Did you wipe off the seats when you finished?”

Joan blushes, “We did. You need a new blanket though.”

He continues into his office, leaving the door open, “Just send it to the cleaners.” Sitting down he looks over his notes from last night.

She follows him in, and refills her cup. “Did you learn anything?”

“What do you know about ‘Waterfront Records’?”

She pauses and thinks for a moment. “Was that the one owned by the Goode’s?”

Ken looks though his notes, “I didn’t see any names on the business card, but it looked to be old and worn.”

“If it was, that was tragic?” She says in a sad tone.

“Why? I never heard anything about it or them.”

She leans her curvy bottom against the edge of his desk, as she explains, “Back around ’44 or ’45, it was in all the papers. Aly Goode and her husband Ben, was trying to make it big during the musicians’ strike. They had a small label for local players. Aly had a good set a pipes and Ben tickled the ivories. Until she was killed.”

“Killed? How?” Ken asks.

“I think there was something about her being a He/She. After a club date, she was attacked and cut up. Benjamin went nuts, found the guys and killed them. He was locked up in the loony bin.” She sips her coffee. “If I got it straight.”

He looks at the address in his notes. “Grab your coat. We got an old studio to check out.” Standing up, Ken reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out his shoulder holster, then grabs the .45 from the center drawer.

“Ya got any protection in case we need it?” Ken yells.

He hears the mechanical click of his stiletto. “I borrowed this last night.”

“I should be angry, but guessing where you and Pete parked last night, you might a needed it.” Ken says as he pulls on his coat and adjusts his gun.

On the drive down to the shore, the clouds start to break and patches of blue show through the morning sky. They go down the streets until they pull up in front of a boarded-up building. The weathered sign reads ‘Waterfront Records’. There is a faded poster behind shattered glass in a frame, “Al Ben Goode — The songs of Alison and Benjamin Goode”. The faces on the poster are partially covered by graffiti reading “Pansies” and a painted “X”.

“Is that what you were talking about?” Ken asks Joan quietly, as they walk up to the building. She nods. “Let’s see if anyone’s home.” Ken says as he draws his pistol and checks the nearest door.