Don Scribner’s Blog Actor, Screenwriter, Songwriter, Singer

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Whitey and Sam exchanged acknowledging, respectful and humorous glances.  I had the feeling that we all liked Tuffy.

We all greeted Barbara Jean and Sam took over.  “This 22 had to be stolen sometime in the last eight years.”

Tuffy interrupted.  “Sorry Sam, but I made a mistake when speaking with the detective that initially called me.  I actually won the Rod and Gun Club tournament with an identical 22… different serial number.  I kept the one that was stolen in another cabinet.  You see, I bought two of them hoping Barbara Jean would one day enjoy shooting.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Twenty years… for her eighteenth birthday.  The 38 was in the same cabinet.  I hadn’t opened that cabinet since I put the 22 in.  Those two guns could have been stolen anytime since then.”

The looks of disappointment were evident, but not in Sam’s voice.

“Barbara Jean, could you write down a list of names and contact numbers of the friends who visited with you at your dad’s?”

“I can do that Detective, but be aware that I lived in Los Angeles for fourteen years, until I was thirty-two.  And during that time I visited Dad at least twice a year and always brought someone along for the experience.  Even a few days here can enlighten and rejuvenate a person.  There’s so much to enjoy.”

“Well, that’s a lot of years so, let’s see… did you ever drive?”

Tuffy jumped in quickly.  “That’s the problem Detective.  Barbara Jean always drove.  I wanted her to fly because driving took some of my time to see her.”

“Okay Dad, enough.  Yes, I always drove.  That was part of the experience.  So often I felt like a tour guide.  And, Dad always kept me in a new car.  I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Isn’t she sweet gentlemen?”  Tuffy didn’t wait for a response.  “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.  Barbara Jean and I are going to sit right down and get that list together and we’ll fax it to you.  And my deductive thinking tells me that my gun thief was once my guest.  And, that disappoints me.  So, why don’t you patch me through to your front desk so I can get that number and we can get thinking.”

I could see that Sam was fine with Tuffy ending the meeting but tossed out a question.   “Barbara Jean does anyone pop into your head as a possibility?”

“No, but I’ll include notes with the list.  I always brought people I instinctively trusted and who I thought would be appreciative.  The list will be comprehensive.  We better get busy.”

Meeting over.  She hung up.  She was her father’s daughter.

Sam hit the table in frustration.  “Goddamn it!  Fourteen years of suspects… what’s that, twenty-eight, thirty… how many… how many trips each year?   I thought we were getting lucky here.“   He took a deep breath, exhaled and relaxed.  “Hell, maybe we are.”  He looked at Whitey and out of the blue asked:  “Where’s Leslie?”

“She got tired of me.  Said it worried her that I made no advances.”  I wasn’t sure I believed that or not, but I didn’t want it to be true I liked seeing him with a woman.  Then he continued.  “Her mother took her to Prague.  That’s a fact.  I don’t even know where that is.”

“Czech Republic?”  It brought back instant memories.

“That’s right, you were there with Teri.  Showed me pictures.”  Whitey eyeballed me writing in my notebook.  “Yeah, yeah, right Prague it’s old… very old.    What’d you write?”

“Eternity is in love with the productions of time.  It’s from William Blake.  He could have written it with Prague in mind.”  Then I added a quick thought.

Whitey was still interested.  “Alright, humor us.”

“There is nobody going to think that you are more beautiful or your hand is more soft or that your heart is more deserving. I told her that in our rented flat in Prague.  I want to use it in my book.”  Then I remembered the letter from Angel and wrote that.

Sam looked at the blank walls of the room almost grunted.  “What is this, a murder investigation or a writer’s conference?”

“No, Whitey told me to write down unusual occurrences.  Not long ago I got a letter with a return address that was from Angel, Simi Valley, ah… Lookout Lane or Drive or something like that.  Anyway, the letter was blank.  I figured it was concerning one of my sex cartoons.  Now I’m thinking it’s connected with the panties.”

That stopped Sam’s movement.  “What am I missing?  What does this have to do with anything?”

Whitey interjected.  “I’ll tell you Sam, from day one something itched at me and you know what I’m talking about… that cop intuition.  Something stinks about this whole fucking thing and part of this involves him somehow.  First it’s a car jacking that’s not.  A couple of his lady friends get vandalized.”  He looked at me.  “What else Harley?”

I was processing what I just heard and immediately thought that Whitey may be right because I had a sense also and explained.  “Okay… I appreciate the unexplained or spiritual occurrences in life… you know spirits, etc.  And, I’ve had many and thought that maybe the glass that fell from my cupboard was just an unexplained happening.  Now I’m not so sure.”  Sam had a confused look.  “I opened the cupboard door and a glass fell out and nothing else was disturbed.”  I gestured how it tumbled down and I caught it.  Now, they were processing my words.  “Someone could have carefully placed it near the edge, you know, a joke.”  Sam’s nod indicated he was attentive but not sure where this was headed and I added more.  “I’ve found panties on my truck antenna and not long ago the antenna was broken off.  My gas was siphoned… almost forgot about that.  I didn’t write down some things, but I know there were more.  Plus I get the feeling that I’m being watched sometimes.  Oh, the ice cube tray was on the wrong side of the freezer and the match in my door was missing.”

Sam now seemed zeroed in.  “Let’s get back to that letter.  “Lookout Drive or Street or whatever the hell it was…  now that interests me.  Do you still have it?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t think so, but I’ll look.  If I do it’s probably on my desk.”

Whitey clasped his hands on top of his head.  “What interests me are those panties.  Is that one or more?”

No wonder why English is considered so difficult to learn.  Panty’s one of the inconsistent little touches of our language.  Can you buy a panty, or must you buy a pair of panties from the panty section or from the line of panties.  Must have something to do with the word pant… To purchase one, you must buy a pair.

Whitey dropped his hands off his head and brought me back into his world.  “You mean you have to think about that.”

“No, I don’t.  It was a couple of times.”   I could easily tell from Whitey’s expression that he wanted me to elaborate.  “They happened in the carport.   Once Teri was with me.  I was opening the door for her and we simultaneously noticed a pair of red panties hanging from the antenna.  At first I thought she may have put them there, but her reaction told me no.  She said almost accusatorial, ‘Little Babies who put those there?’  I told her I had no clue and asked her to take them off.  She said, ‘Yuck!  I’m not touching those.’  Then she added her theory.  ‘Someone’s flirting with you Little Babies.  Kinky.’  In the next few days she told enough people that I was sure she didn’t do it even for humor.”  Whitey didn’t move a muscle as I went on.  “It was an interesting scenario.  On one hand it was provocative and I was kind of excited… like a teenager.  You know what I mean.”  His eyes and an almost imperceptible nod indicated he did. “And, it happened again not that long ago.  Both were red and small.  That was another reason I thought Teri may have done it… her size and one of her favorite colors.”

Sam broke into my story.  “Don’t suppose you have those either.”

“No I don’t.  I took them off the antenna with a stick and tossed them in the trash.  They looked new although I didn’t do a smell test, but the size tag stuck out.”

Sam shook his head while talking.  “He didn’t do a smell test.”

“Don’t you smell panties Sam?  Teri said:  ‘Smell them Little Babies, see if you recognize her.’  I loved that about her.”

We all laughed and Whitey added:  “I always liked that broad.”  He then changed his physical demeanor into a ‘what can I say’ look directed to Sam.  “That guy Baron, Robbie stopped over to Harley’s some time after he left here and we had a nice long talk.”

Sam began to snarl.  “You telling me you interviewed him there after you left here?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m telling you I guess.”  Sam was fuming as Whitey tried to soften the situation.  “I knew you’d want to be there, but the process was already in process.  And I do have some skills you know.”

“You pulled a goddamn MacClaine on me.”  Whitey was unsure of exactly what that comment meant, but he certainly understood its intention.  Sam clarified and vented.  “Out On A Limb.  You put me out on a limb.  What am I supposed to say if he comes in here and complains to the Chief.  I know you’re one of the best, but you’re not licensed in California and you are certainly not on the force.”

Whitey gave me a ‘told you so’ look and then turned his attention to Sam and spoke calmly.  “You’re mad at me.”

Sam laughed.  “I’m not mad at you.  Fuck… I expected it, maybe not exactly that, but  something.  So, tell me about it.  How’d you get him over to Harley’s?”

The familiarity of that comment made me feel like part of the team.  “He came on his own volition Sam.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t want me to press charges for the sex tapes.”

Sam jumped on that.  “He admitted he stole them?  That’s good.  That’s good news.  Not that it’ll do any good because it wasn’t here and recorded and he could deny saying it.  But, it’s good.  It gives us another step.”

I stepped back because I could see that Whitey had much to say and I was surprised at the speed of his delivery… these comments had to be heard.  “The way I got it figured is that this son-of-a-bitch is scared and that means he is in this deeper than he wants us to think.  He’s willing to admit theft… off record of course… because he doesn’t want to be investigated.  Now what’s that tell you?”

“Let me think… First he could have hired someone to kill her because of jealousy that she was still screwing Harley.  Secondly, he doesn’t want his wife to know that he had some secretive interest or thing with her.”

Sam looked at me as if I was an unexplainable phenomena.  “Don’t tell me how you know that.”  He seemed to try to hide a hint of a smile.  “As I was saying, he doesn’t want his wife to know… especially now.  And, third… he just has some sexual needs he privately explores.”  Sam looked directly at me.  “In other words he stole the tapes just to see you two in action.”

Whitey directed his attention to me.  “You do make a cute couple.”

Of course Whitey was making humor, but it touched a nerve giving me an uneasy feeling that somewhere within there was a core of truth.