The cover for part 2 of the Pearl Saga series.
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Shell Game – Chapter 10 – The Gloria


Evan stepped out onto the street in front of his office building and looked up at the sky.  The fog was so thick by that point that it had erased the top floors of the bell tower at Athens State University.  Evan felt closed in by the misty ceiling and thought it fit his mood perfectly; one broken marriage with an unseeable future, one dead partner with little to go on to find his killer, and a business that remained on the edge of financial ruin.  He set his hat on his head and worked his way across the street.

His stomach reminded him that he’d skipped breakfast, and it was close enough to noon to justify lunch.  Besides, he’d also skipped dinner the night before.  All he’d had to eat over the past day, if one could call it eating, were several cups of coffee so thick and bitter it might have been closer to a pudding than a beverage.  He ducked into Mulready’s for corned beef on rye, extra kraut, and a cup of black coffee.

The place was packed with university students who had just come back to town to start a brand-new year.  The atmosphere was lively, and Evan overheard scraps of worried conversations about the murders.  The Athens Gazette had printed a morning special edition detailing the very little information they had been able to pull together.  It was not till then that Evan realized Sophie must have kept the papers away from him.  If this deal with Katherine was going to play out, he was going to miss ol’ Soph. 

Evan set up on one of the stools at the counter, and the eatery’s owner, Mark Mulready, stepped over to check in on Evan.  Mulready was a man of spherical shape and a waddling gait.  His thinning salt-and-pepper hair covered his scalp in greasy rivulets.  Mulready offered his condolences for Gabe’s loss, saying, “I couldn’t believe it reading the paper this morning.  Gabe was like a ray of sunshine coming here, you know what I mean?” Evan nodded. “You going to catch the guy who did it?  Gabe had a family, right?”

“Seems more a job for the police, don’t you think?” Evan said. “They don’t take too kindly when other people step into their cases.”

Mulready wiped a forgotten water ring from the counter. “But he was your partner,” Mulready said.  “I mean, I know you didn’t always get along, but what does that mean? I’ve been married thirty years to the same woman,” he laughed a raspy chuckle and leaned an elbow on the counter. “We don’t see eye-to-eye all the time neither, but someone does her harm, and you better bet no police officer’s going to keep me from doing what I got to do to make things right.  You know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” Evan said. “Don’t you worry, one way or another, truth and justice have a pesky way of making themselves known.”

Evan had wanted to eat in the peace and solitude of his thoughts but had a hunch others would start to nose him out and start asking unnecessary questions and giving advice and theories on who probably killed Gabe.  It wouldn’t be helpful.  So, he thought better of his plan and asked for his food to go.  Eleven minutes later, he got his food, thanked Mulready, tipped the waitress, and headed north to get on the streetcar headed towards Exchange.

As he rode, he ate.  The sandwich was good, but Evan didn’t think much about it.  He had his thoughts to chew on, thoughts he knew needed to swirl around for a while till they found the right place to land.  It wasn’t that everyone liked Gabe Silver that got under Evan’s skin.  It was that he didn’t like having to agree with other people’s opinions.  It caused a slow burn that ate at his peace of mind.  He told himself he needed to get over it.  The man was dead.  Everyone has faults, and it’s better to think about the highlights than dwell on the low ones.

Evan hopped off the streetcar and walked up to the corner of Seventh.  His shoes scraped along the sidewalks of Athens till they came to the front steps of The Gloria.  This was the address Molly had provided.  Evan winced a little when he remembered the smell of the lobby. “Gloria” didn’t seem the appropriate name for it.  It had been constructed fifty years earlier when the optimism of a new century and its progressive ideals bankrolled all sorts of new-fangled this and ultra-modern that.  There was plenty of money in Athens back then, bringing investors to try out new thoughts in society, education, and industry.  As Evan looked again at the hotel’s facade, it looked like no new dimes had been spent on the place since the investors left town.  What remained was the distinct odor of forgetfulness and neglect.

Evan took his last bite of sandwich and finished his coffee before tossing his paper goods in the spittoon near the front door.

He strode up to the registration desk and asked if Miss Brandt was in.  She was not.  The clerk said she checked out earlier that morning.  Evan had not anticipated that and leaned his back on the desk, pondering his next move.  Evan sucked his teeth, straightened his hat and coat, and was about to head out when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Evan!” Evan turned to see The Gloria’s house detective.  He was a good-hearted man about the same age as Evan, but his face showed he had not lived life nearly as hard.  The detective put on the demeanor of a funeral director and said, “Shame about Gabe.”

“Yeah,” nodded Evan.

“A real shame,” the detective said. “Always liked it when he came in here.  Always had a smile for me.”

“What else can you say about a man?” asked Evan looking at his shoes.

“True,” said the detective. “I saw you and wanted to catch you to give you my condolences.  I know it doesn’t bring him back, but…” his voice trailed off, and the two men stood there in silence for a few moments. “So, what brings you in today?” The detective blurted. “I would have figured you would be out finding Gabe’s killer.”

“Yeah,” Evan sighed, “Somebody hired us yesterday.  Gabe was working the case when he met his end.  The client said she was staying here.”

“That’s right!” the detective said as if he had just remembered. “I did see Hi-yo Silver in here last night.  I just didn’t think anything of it till just now.”

“Yeah?” Evan said, instantly curious.  The plan had been for Molly Brandt and Jason Charles to meet up at The Broadway.  Was this a change in the plan or a detour?  “Did you talk to him at all?”

“Nah,” said the detective, “he looked like he was on the job.”  Then the detective leaned into Evan and lowered his voice. “Speaking of which, in case this helps you out, I saw him follow a couple out of here last night.  A dame, I mean she was dressed to the nines, and she leaves with some meathead.” Then another connection was made in the detective’s brain, “Say, now that you mention it, the man the dame was with, didn’t I see his face in the morning paper?  Didn’t he get shot, too?  The paper’s saying the two murders are likely connected.  What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said, “haven’t seen a paper today.”

The house detective quickly pulled one from the end of the counter and slid it in front of Evan. “See?” he said, tapping the meathead’s picture, “that’s him.”

The blood in Evan’s body stopped for an instant as he gazed at the portrait.  The face that stared back at him from the morning papers, the one labeled as Jason Charles, was none other than the annoying sweaty man from the flea market.

Evan took a breath to regain his composure before he said, “I can neither confirm nor deny, Charlie.  You know how it is,” Evan said, “only time will tell.  Bad Night in Athens as much as anything, probably.  Whatever happens, I’ll do what I can to keep the hotel out of what I give over to the police.”

“Yeah.  Thanks, Evan,” the detective said.

“Could you do me a favor in the meantime?” Evan asked.

“If I can be a help to you, Evan, just ask,” he said.

“What can you tell me about the woman Gabe was following?  I’m asking you, you understand, but I want you to forget I asked in case interested parties start getting curious.  You get me?”

The detective gave a knowing nod. “I’ll see what I can pull up.  Wait right here.  Won’t take a moment.”

The detective left, and sure enough, he was quickly back with information on Molly Brandt.

“She arrived last Tuesday,” he said, reading from a registry. “Came in with only a few items.  Probably not staying a long time.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?” Evan asked.

The detective ran his finger down the page and shook his head, “Nuh-uh.  No calls.  No mail.  Pretty unremarkable.  Only received one guest, a Mr. Jason Charles.” He paused and then checked the picture in the paper and grunted, “Huh,” before looking to Evan for confirmation.

Evan nodded.  

The detective went back to his book, “Here’s something, says she went up to her room last night around eleven, went out this morning around nine-thirty, came back an hour later, and was checked out by eleven.”

“That’s a busy twelve hours,” Evan said. “Did she happen to leave a forwarding address?”

“Yeah,” said the detective, “The Walnut Grove Apartments. It’s down on…”

“I know the place,” Evan interrupted. “Thanks, Charlie.  I appreciate the help.”

“Anything I can do, Evan,” the detective said. “Real shame about Gabe.  A real shame.”

Evan nodded and stepped back outside.  He checked his watch; it was almost one o’clock.  Evan wanted to visit Miss Brandt and learn her version of events, but since his office would be on his way, he decided to check in with Sophie first.

When he arrived back at the office, Sophie Landis stood at the file drawers, making herself busy.  Her head snapped over to the front door when she heard Evan enter and rested her elbow on the open drawer.

“You missed all the fun,” she said. “You should stick around more often.”

“Is that right?” asked Evan.

“Lt. Bobby Short just left,” she said.

“Yeah?  What did he want?” Evan asked.  He felt his face began to tighten.

“Said he was looking for guns.  Said you kept a few around the place,” she said.

“What did you do?” Evan asked.

Sophie smiled at Evan, “I told him he could come back when you were here.  He didn’t have a warrant, and I don’t know the combination to the gun safe as far as he knows.”

“Good girl,” Evan said. “He comes back here, don’t let him in. I’m fine if he wants to go fishing, but I’m not about to give him a pole and a hook.”

Evan started to make his way back to his office when Sophie stopped him. “By the way, Miss Brandt called while you were out,” she said. “She wants to see you.” 

Evan turned.

“Did she happen to say where she’s gotten herself to?”

Sophie picked up a slip of paper from her desk. “She said she’s staying at The Walnut Grove Apartments.”

“That matches what I got from her former residence, so that’s good,” Evan said.

“But she’s not going by Brandt anymore,” Sophie said.

“No?” asked Evan in mock interest.

“Nope.  Her new name is Wolf,” Sophie said.

Evan chuckled to himself and said, “I’ll bet it is.”

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