Shell Game – Chapter 31 – Missing Claire

Evan checked his watch. Four o’clock. He would have just enough time to check in with Sophie at the office before meeting Eye Patch at five o’clock. Sophie looked up from her electric Smith-Corona when Evan walked through the agency door.

She looked up without moving her head. Her gray eyes peered at Evan from just underneath her eyebrows. “That’s a fine prank to play on a girl,” she said and went back to typing.

Evan stopped cold. “I don’t follow,” Evan said. “I just came in to…”

“I assume she’s still with you? You’ve got her tucked away somewhere? Playing a good old joke on Sophie. Do you know what I had to tell my brother to agree to this?” Sophie sat back and crossed her arms. The squeak of the chair’s spring sounded particularly angry. Sophie arched one eyebrow at Evan.

“What are you talking about?”

“Claire,” said Sophie. “Where is she?”

“Where is she?” Evan repeated. “She’s with you.”

Sophie slowly shook her head, “Not unless she’s taken up with the Invisible Man.”

“You mean she never showed?” Evan asked.

“Yeah, and don’t I look like a chump to my brother and sister-in-law?”

Evan punched his fist into his hand. “Why should I ever expect someone in this business to stick to the plans they’ve been given?” He looked at Sophie. “I put her in the cab myself. I gave the driver crystal directions.”

“Well, she can’t have disappeared.”

Evan scoffed, “I wouldn’t be so sure,” charging at his inner office door. “Hold on.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I’m going to get something done right for a change.” Evan slammed the door behind him. Then, after a moment, he returned with a pained look on his face. “Forgive me, Soph. I know you were only doing what I- This whole thing’s got me- I just can’t seem to…”

“It’s fine,” Sophie said, putting him out of his misery and waving him away. “Apology accepted. Go do what you do.”
Evan smiled, “You’re one of the good ones.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Sophie said and continued her typing.

Evan went back to his office, grabbed the phone receiver, dialed up the taxi company, and asked for the previous driver to come back.

“What’s the name?” came the voice on the other end.

“What’s the…? I don’t know the name of the… Don’t you keep records?”

“Cool your jets, mister,” the man said, “let me get the book.” Evan could hear shuffling steps on the other end of the line, and then after several long seconds, “Okay, what was the name of the driver?”

“I don’t… Listen, he’s about five-ten, stocky, sandy hair, a scar above his right eye.”

“You mean Bill?” the driver said.

“I suppose I do. Can you send me Bill?”

The man thought a moment. “Bill should be on break. Likes to hang out at the deli on Sixth and Rural. Depending on where you are, you might be able to catch him there.”

“Sixth and Rural,” Evan said. “Got it.”

“There’s this gal there’s he’s kinda sweet on…” the man got out before Evan hung up on him. Evan said goodbye to Sophie as he jogged out of the building and then took off running toward Sixth.

There was a taxi parked on the curb right outside The 6th Ave. Sub Shop. Evan walked in, and his nose woke up to the bite of cut onions and peppers in the air. At the counter, Evan saw the back of a man flirting with a woman busily making sandwiches. He assumed the man to be Bill. Evan walked up to the man, patted him on the shoulder, and asked, “Remember me?”

Bill broke his gaze with the woman, turned to Evan, gave him the once-over, and nodded.

“There was a woman I put in your cab not too long ago. I asked you to take her to a certain address, but she never made it. I’m looking for her. What happened?”

Bill fiddled with the toothpick between his teeth, sizing up Evan for the fistfight that was likely to happen. “Look, mister, I just do what I’m paid to do.”

“I paid you,” Evan said, tapping his sternum. “I paid you. My instructions could not have been clearer.”

“Well, she paid me more.” Bill turned back to the waitress. Evan clenched his teeth and tapped Bill’s shoulder again. Without turning, Bill put his up a hand and grumbled to Evan, “Look buddy, take a breath. No need to get sore. I did what you asked. But we were stopped at a light, and she saw a newspaper stand. She wanted one and asked me to wait. I said, ‘Sure,’ and she popped out, got her paper, and got back in. The light hadn’t even changed. Then, before I know it, she’s flashing a fifty at me, asking me to go to the depot.” Bill looked at Evan in the face, “You got to understand, fifty is more than I’m going to see all day, so it got my attention. I figure the woman’s got to know where she’s headed, right? So, I drove her to the depot.”

“What happened at the depot?” Evan asked.

Bill shrugged. “I just drive ‘em. I don’t follow ‘em.”

“What did you see?” Evan could feel the pressure in his head rising.

“Look, she gave me the fifty, she got out of the cab, she went into the depot, and I drove here.”
“Did you see if she met anyone?”

“No,” Bill said.

“Did she go anywhere else?”

“How would I know?”

Evan thought a moment. Then, “Did she keep The Gazette with her?”

“Under her arm, I think,” Bill said.

“Thanks,” Evan said as he reached for his wallet and slipped Bill another twenty. He left the sub shop and headed over to the nearest newsstand to pick up The Athens Gazette. He looked over the different articles, but none of them made sense for the sudden change in Claire’s course. Most of the stories had to do with the state election coming up, but Evan had a strong suspicion politics did not concern for Miss Claire Porter.

Evan checked his watch. A half-hour left. Time seemed to be melting away, and he needed to know the positions of his chess pieces before he met with Eye Patch again. Otherwise, he may not be able to predict what the next moves might be. Evan perceived all kinds of things were happening in places he couldn’t see and was not invited. He could feel the case slipping out of his grasp.

He walked briskly to The Walnut Grove apartments and once again let himself into Claire’s place. After a brief scan of the rooms of her apartment, Evan lowered his opinion of Claire Porter even further. Nothing out of place. If she’d been honest with him when she gave her sob story at the office, the apartment would look like a disaster hit it. Evan rested his hand on his hips, and he stared at the immaculate dwelling. After a moment to regather his frustration, he tried to look for clues. At first glance, nothing indicated what Claire’s next move was. And then something caught in his brain – a minor detail. So, subtle, his eyes missed it at first, but his trained detective skills felt it. Evan walked again into her bedroom.

He looked over the room. Finally, his eyes found what his brain searched for. A small chrome box sat on the nightstand with its lid hanging open. Evan looked inside and found nothing. The nothing seemed like it meant something. He had a feeling if he knew what had been in that box, he would be able to guess her moves.

Evan glanced again at his watch. Fifteen minutes left. Setting the box down, Evan worked his way back out of the apartment building and then to his office. He entered his office promptly at ten minutes to five. Sophie had left for the day, but in her chair sat the frame of Margo. A hardened face behind steel blue eyes and blonde waves. Evan knew she should stay away from Hollywood, or the real Ms. Bacall would have some significant competition.

“My employer would like to see you now,” she said.

Evan chuckled, “Sure. Though I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes. I’ll just need to get some things from-”
Margo displayed the pistol she fisted. It pointed at Evan’s chest. “We’ll go now.” Margo stood. “My employer doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Evan held up his hands in deference. “Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint his expectations, would we?” he smiled.
Margo stood and hooked her elbow in Evan’s, bringing their hips close together. Then, she put her pistol hand under her coat and jammed the barrel between Evan’s ribs. Evan winced. “We walk like this,” she said. “You get funny; I give you the punchline. Understand?”

“I bet you say that to all your hostages.”

Margo led Evan outside. They walked along without incident. To the unaware passerby, they looked like any other couple out for an evening stroll. For the first time in a week, the fog had lifted enough that Evan could see the way in front of him. However, as he looked up, he saw the streetlights stuck in a thick band of clouds pressing in on Athens like an impenetrable ceiling. Evan took in the damp, fall air through his nostrils. Even though the fog was not gone, he could still enjoy seeing forward and took this as a good sign for things to come.

They walked arm-in-arm the several blocks between Evan’s office and The Webster Hotel. Evan angled for the front door, but Margo yanked his arm.

“This way,” was all she said, and she led them to the alley behind the hotel. They came to a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, and she said, “Open it.” Evan did, and Margo led him to the cargo elevator. Ten floors later, they exited the cage and walked to the suite of Harold Huber. Room 1045.

Margo knocked. In the few seconds, it took for someone to open the door, Evan got free of Margo’s grip, pulled her coat down over her elbows, rendering her arms useless, and stripped the gun out of her hand. In the doorway stood the stranger still dressed in black. His eyebrows raised in a high arch as he observed the fuming Margo standing next to Evan.

“Come in,” Harold said with question marks in his eyes.

“You should be more careful who you send to do a man’s job. I, for one, don’t appreciate having a gun aimed so close to my heart. Especially since I was willing to go along peacefully. Just for safety’s sake, I’ll keep this on me,” he said and placed the gun in his coat pocket.

The man with the silver eye patch looked on unamused at the scene and said, “I see, Margo, he bested you again. A case of wounded pride, no doubt. We will deal with that later. Why don’t you and Mr. Huber here leave us to talk?” Then he turned to Evan. “Come. Sit. It seems we have some unfinished business to attend to.”