May 15, 2025 • 25 mins
In the grimy underbelly of the city, a girls lifeless body is discovered in a desolate lot, horrifyingly beaten and with an eye brutally gouged out. Across town, another young woman is found dead under similar circumstances. Lieutenant Mendoza is convinced theres a chilling connection. As he delves into this twisting mystery in this first riveting installment of the Lt. Mendoza series, he navigates a colorful landscape of intriguing characters, veiled secrets, and stark realism that resonates with the modern reader. (Summary by Ben Tucker)
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter nine of case Pending by Del Shannon. The LibriVox
recordings in the public domain, Chapter nine Because afterward, thought Morgan,
both Morgan's there would be a time when Sue would
look at him that steady look of hers and want
the truth, and he had better know what he was
going to say. He wondered if he could tell her
(00:23):
half the truth convincingly. My god, no, I never meant.
But when he got mad and pulled a gun, I
and afterward I knew I couldn't tell the police the
whole story, you know, and go on forever after keeping
the rest a secret. He'd never been very good at
keeping secrets from Sue, but a big thing like this,
And there was also the consideration, wouldn't it be kinder
(00:45):
fairer not to put this on her conscience as it
would be on his? Let her go on thinking it
was accident, because he guessed it would be on his
conscience to some extent. You couldn't be brought up and
live half your life by certain basic ethics and forget
about them overnight. All the while he was thinking round
and about that. At the back of his mind, he
was talking to this woman, this missus Cotter quite normally.
(01:08):
Must have been or she'd been eyeing him oddly. By
this time, he saw that he had also been taking
notes in his case book of a few things she
had told him, and his writing looked quite normal too,
As usual. Now he was having some trouble getting away.
People liked to talk about these things. You had to
be polite, and sometimes they remembered something useful. He managed
(01:29):
it at last, backing down the steps while he thanked
her for the third time. His car was around the corner.
The only parking space there had been half an hour ago. Now,
of course, there were two or three empty spaces. Almost
in front of the building. As he came by, a long,
low black car was sliding quiet and neat into the
curb there. The car registered dimly with him, because you
didn't seem any like it, but he was passed when
(01:51):
the driver got out. It was the car, A vague
memory of it pulled Morgan's head round six steps farther on.
The driver was standing at the curb, lighting a cigarette
and pro file to him. Morgan stopped absurdly, his mouth
went dry, and his heart missed a few beats, hurried
to catch up. You damn a fool, he said to himself.
They're not mind readers, for God's sake, But he thought confusedly,
(02:14):
but an omen today, of all days, just run into
one like this casual. That was a man from homicide,
a headquarters man from Kenneth Gun's old department, Lieutenant Luis
Mendoza of Homicide. Morgan had met him twice, three times
at the guns, and again when their jobs had coincided,
that Hurst business, when one of the deserted wives had
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shot herself and two kids. Luis Mendoza, besides the childish
panic resentment he had felt before, rose hot in Morgan's throat,
unreasonable resentment at the blind fate which handed one man
rewards he hadn't earned, didn't particularly deserve, and also more
personal resentment for the man Mendoza, with all that money
(02:57):
and not a soul in the world but himself to
spended on, no responsibilities, no obligations. Gunn talked about Mendoza
ordinary back street family, probably not much different from some
of these and neighborhoods like this, nothing of what you'd
call background, and the wily grandfather and all the money.
What the hell right had he to pretend such to
(03:17):
the manner born if indefinable insolence. Just the money, all
that money, do anything, have anything he damn pleased or
almost and by all accounts didn't he clothes, And it
wasn't that Morgan wanted to look like a damn fop
the way Mendoza did. But once in a while it
would be nice to get a new suit more than
once in five years, and not off the rack at
(03:38):
a cheap store. When there was a sale on that
silver gray herringbone Mendoza was wearing hadn't cost a dime
less than two hundred dollars. An apartment somewhere, not in
one of the new smart buildings out west where you
paid three hundred months for the street name and three
closet sized rooms, but the real thing, a big, quiet place,
spacious and all for himself. Everything just so, custom furniture,
(04:01):
probably air conditioning in summer maid service, the works. It
was the kind of ostentation that was like an iceberg,
most of it invisible. That was Mendoza, everything about him,
nothing remotely flashy, all under played. The ultra conservative clothes.
That damn custom built car. You had to look at
twice to know it for what it was even the
(04:21):
manner the man himself, that precise hairline, mustache, the way
he lit a cigarette. The a womanizer too, he would be,
and easy to think they were only after the money,
not for some reason altogether true. God knew what women
found so fascinating in such men. But he remembered Gun
saying that a little rueful as became a solid family man,
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a little indulgent because he liked Mendoza, a little envious
the way any man would be poker and women after hours.
That's luis his two hobbies, you might say, and I
understand he's damn good at both. A lot of women
would be fools for such a man. Not that he
was so handsome, but he knew a script like an
actor playing a polished scene, and all for casual amusement,
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all for Mendoza, and when he was bored the equal
he polished exit and forget it. Gun had said other
things about Mendoza, that he was a brilliant man, that
he never let go once he had his teeth into something.
All that, while the lighter flame touched the cigarette and
was flicked out, the lighter thrust back into the pocket,
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Mendoza raised his head, took the cigarette out of his
mouth and saw Morgan there looking at him, and so
Morgan had to smile, say his name, the conventional things
you did say meeting an acquaintance. How's gun these days?
He's missed downtown. You know a good man. I understand
that's quite an organization he set up. Morgan agreed. He said,
you ran into some interesting cases sometimes he had one now,
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but one thing for sure, you certainly had a chance
to see how the other half lived. But that'd be
an old story to Mendoza that you do, said the
man from homicide, and smoke trickled thin through his nostrils.
If he took in the double entendre, he gave no
sign of it. Well, nice to run in to you.
I'll give Gon your regards. Morgan seemed to be under
a compulsion to sound hearty, make inane little jokes. I hope,
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by the way, we're not concerned with the same clients
again like that, hearst business and nasty. I want two
four one six. It was the building Morgan had just left.
He said, that's it. Be careful of the third step.
It's loose. I nearly broke my neck, Thanks very much,
and more conventionalities of leave taking, and he was free.
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He started again for his car. The gun was suddenly
very heavy there against his chest. When he got out
his keys, he saw his hand shaking a little damn fool,
he thought, angrily. It's going to be all right, just
the way I wanted to go, no matter who, no
matter what, And by God, if it isn't, if the
very worst happens, whatever that might be, this was one
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time anyway. He wouldn't stand still to be knocked out
of the ring. He'd have tried anyway. Missus Irene Cotter
was rather thrilled and wildly curious. Two men detectives of
all things, calling in one morning, and both about those lindstrums.
If you'd asked her, she'd have said, in fact, she
was saying it now to Mendoza, that most any other
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tenants she had ever had while she was manageress here,
and that had been eleven years, were more likely to
bring detectives around that blonde hussy and three o seven,
for instance, or mister Jessup, who was not to beat
around the bush, just a nasty old man. And there
had been that couple in four nineteen that got drunk.
Most nights and through things. She had told him about
them all at some length, and when she remembered taking
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pains with her grammar. Because this one was a lot
more interesting looking and seemed more interested in her than
the first one. She always thought there was something about
a man with a mustache. This one looked a little
bit like that fellow in the movies, the one that
was usually the villain. But personally she had thought about
a lot of the movies she'd seen with him, and
that the girl was an awful fool to prefer some
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sheep eyed, collarad and dead, but there was no accounting
for tastes and a real gentleman too, beautiful manners. Of course,
that was one thing about these Mexus. People say things
about them, But of course there was classes of them,
just like anywhere, only when they were high class, like
this one, you said Spanish, And I tell you, when
he up and left, and everybody knew it, nobody could
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hardly believe it. You'd never thought they was the kind
at all. Fly by nights. I mean that don't go
on steady, you know what I mean, all their lives.
But I tell you, Lieutenant, I'd like to sort of
study people and goodness knows, I get the chance in
my job. I said to myself at the time, there's
something behind it. There usually is. The man left in August.
You said early. I couldn't swear to the date, but
(08:40):
it was after the rent was due and paid. There
was never a day late. Good tenants. Maybe the first week.
And how long did the woman and uh boys stay on? Oh,
I can tell you that to the day. It was
the twenty second of September. They left, she told me
in the morning, late round noon maybe, and they went
that night, I remember, because she was paid to the
end of the month, but they went before. And I
did think that was funny because it must have been
(09:01):
she'd paid extra wherever they were moving, you know, to
move in before the first and already being paid up
to the first. Here you'd think, of course, I'd know.
She didn't say they might have been going back east
or somewheres. I did ask account of mail, not that
they ever had much of that, mostly ads, but she
never said just look at me as if I was
being nosy, and I'll tell you something else. Who's inant
you can believe it or not. But that was just
exactly the fourth time i'd spoke to Miss Lindstrom all
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two years they'd been here. That was the kind they
was for her anyways, Why they'd moved in a week
or more before I ever laid eyes on her. It
was him rented the place and paid, and like most
people do, they moved in at night after work. You know,
not that they had much to bring a few sticks
of furniture. But I was telling you about when he went.
It was Miss Spinner in three nineteen told me right
next to him they had three twenty. You can see
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that I wouldn't notice right off, especially with them. Sometimes
I'd see him going off in the morning or coming home,
but not every day. And Miss Spinner thought I ought
to know he had left at least hadn't been there.
She didn't think four or five days at the times.
She told me, well, they've paid up to the end
of August. I didn't go asking questions till then, none
of my business. But when September first coming around, it
was her come down to pay the rent, and then
I did figure better know where we stood, if you
(10:06):
see what I mean, without wanting to be nosy, added
missus Carter virtuously, she wouldn't admit he had gone and
left her froze right up and said I needn't worry
about the rent, and some rigam roll about. He was
called back east sudden, But all the same to me.
It wasn't a week before she had to get herself
a job, so I knew, all right. And if you
ask me where did she work? Do you know? Sure?
It was a night job cleaning offices downtown the Curtis Building.
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That's where I was going to say, Lieutenant, that kind
of job shows you what she was like. And if
you ask me, it all ties in. It was probably
all her whole thing. She was one of them old maids,
married like they say, for sure, went around with a
slurd look all the time, never smiled or friendly word,
and passing and asked for looks. Well, I don't suppose
she was more than forty. And I tell you she
looked like her own grandmother, hair screwed up in a
little bun behind, and her skin like a piece of sandpaper.
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You could tell she never took care of herself. Probably
used laundry soap and that's that. Never scrap of makeup
and cheap old cotton house dresses. Well i've ever seen
her in you know well as me, there's no call
for a woman and let herself go like that in
these days. And if she acted to him the way
she did everybody else, even the youngster, well, between you
and me and the gate posts, I don't blame him
for walking out. A man can take just so much.
She'd been the kind wouldn't let him sleep with her either,
(11:11):
regular prunes and prison old maid like they say, if
you know what I mean, why if she'd taken a
little trouble, fixed herself up and act nwe she could
have got a better job waiting in a store or something.
You know, daytimes, there's just no call for a woman
to look like that, if she'd got any self respect.
But she wasn't one you could talk too friendly, you know,
give any fice like she was downright rude to everybody
trying to make friends. So after a while nobody tried
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no more, just let them be. And I do think
he'd have been different times he came to pay for
rent or if you met him going out like that,
he always acted friendly, and but lot I figure he
just got good and fed up with the whole way
she was. It must have been like living with a
set and bear trap. The detective grinned at that, and
she permitted herself a lady like titter, smoothing her defiantly
brown pompadour. I gather you didn't exchange much casual talk
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with the woman at any time. Nobody did. She wasn't
let him. Ever. Hear mentioned going to buy a doll
that I did not. It wasn't a girl she had.
It was a boy, I thought, I said, Marty his
name was. He favored his dad. I must say. He
was a nice raised boy. Always took his cap off
to you, and he was real quiet for a boy.
You know. He'd be about eleven or bit past when
they come. And last year when they were here, he
was all of a sudden started to shoot up early
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like some do, going to be as big as his dad.
You could see a real nice boy. He was not
like his ma at all. Well, I'm sure I don't
know why she'd be buying a doll unless it was
for some of her family back east. Might be she
had a niece or something. But for goodness sake, lieutenant,
won't you tell me what this is all about? What
she done? Or is it him? I mean, I don't
know that either, of them's done anything. It's a matter
of getting evidence. That's all not very important. He was
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standing up. Oh, I must say, I can't help being
curious too. If you come and same day ask about them,
you can't blame me for that, couldn't you? So mister
Morgan was asking about the Lindstrums too. He looked thoughtful,
and then smiled and began to think her. She saw
she wouldn't get any more out of him, but that
didn't stop her from speculating the linens of all people.
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Missus Carter watched him down the walk to his car.
Heaved an excited sigh after him, and hurried upstairs to
tell Missus Spenner all about it. The clock over the
row of foam booths in the first drug store he
came to said ten past twelve. Mendoza spent an annoying
five minutes looking up at the number in a tattered book.
Finally got the office and just caught Gun on his
way out to lunch. Oh, Luis, how's the boy good
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to hear from you? Say? I'm afraid Andrews I did
didn't pay off you know about that hood New York
wants for jumping pearl it was a long chance find
him through the wife. And of course it may be
she's collecting from some other county agency. If he wants
what's that sure thing? Anything I can tell you, Morgan, Well,
he's probably having lunch somewhere right now. It's one of
his cases, that's all. And all I want from you
is the present address. The name is missus Marian Lindstrom.
(13:48):
Apparently she's only recently applied for relief. If we're working
on it, that's so within a few months. Anyway, it'll
be right here in the current file. Hang on, I'll look.
Mendoza opened the door for air. While he waited, he
was rapidly developing a guilty conscience, wasting time over this
meaningless thing. He didn't get paid or shouldn't for listening
to inconsequential gossip. A dozen things he should have been
(14:11):
doing this morning besides Graham Court, said Gun's voice in
his ear. Oh any idea approximately where that is? Somewhere
down the wrong side of Maine, that area below first
or second. We've got no boy there, sir, said Mendoza
very softly to himself. It can't be not so easy.
I won't believe it when Morgan comes in, tell him
(14:31):
to wait. I want to see him. Call me at
my office, immediamente or even quicker. I want everything you
got on these people. Let me have that address again.
It was Gone, of course, and not Hackett, who said
all the things Hackett might say later before outsiders like this.
Hackett paid lip service to rank Gun had once been
Mendoza superior. He spoke up by the same token. Of course,
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Mendoza wouldn't have talked so freely if Gun hadn't been
a retired homicide man. You got all your wife crossed, Louis.
What you got here is just damn all. It doesn't
mean a thing. First off, how many people you suppose
moved out of that section of town last September. There's
no narrow it down to a couple of blocks. You
have to take it at least a square mile, call
it in even half a mile. I guess seven eight
(15:16):
thousand families, cause you're taken in apartments, not just single houses.
In that kind of neighborhood, people aren't settled. They move
around more. And I know, I know, said Mendoza. And
that's the least of all the arguments against this meaning
anything at all. But say it. It's not even very
significant that the move should be from the twenty four
hundred block on Tappan to it in two blocks of
Commerce and Humble, because those are the same sort of neighborhoods,
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same rent levels, same class and colored people. All right, evidence,
He hunched his shoulders angrily, turning from staring at the
view out Gun's office window. Say it, even if it
eased the same killer. No guarantee he lived anywhere near
either of the girls. So all this is Kento's the
highest just fairy tales. Hackett made a small doleful sounded
(16:00):
his cigarette. I guess you're saying it yourself, Lieutenant. You've
got no evidence, Gunn said flatly. You'd just like to
think so, which isn't like you, Louise, What the hell
have you got? I I've got two dead girls, said Mendoza,
abrupt and harsh, and they don't matter one damn. You
know the kind of murders that happened in any big
town this week, next week, next year, No glamor, no excitement,
(16:24):
no big names, nothing to go in the books The
Clever Whimsy. On Classic cases of the Clever Fiction, ten
wise cracks guaranteed to the page, a surprise ending to
every chapter where fifteen people have fifteen motives for the
murder and fifteen faked alibis for the crucial minute conveniently
fixed by a pre arranged long distance phone call. They
weren't very important or interesting females, these two, and anybody
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at all might have killed them. You know, he swung
on gun. This kind of thing. It doesn't go like
the books. The clues laid out neat, like a paper
trail in a game. You start where you can, and
you take a look everywhere at everything give us, and
then you start all over again. I know, said Gun heavily.
What I'm saying is you got nothing at all to
link these two cases. The doll that's really out of bounds. Boy,
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that one I don't figure anyway. The odds are that
somebody found the girl, didn't report it, but picked up
the package. You're so right, said Mendoza. It was dark
and her hand bag was half under her, almost hidden.
Well there you are. They were killed the same general way.
But it's not very unusual method brute violence that, I
said Hackett to a cigarette. Gun looked at him. Back
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to Mendoza. If it's a real hunch, Louis. All I
got to say is keep throwing cold water at it.
If it's just naturally drowns, let it go. What else
am I doing for? They both knew that it wasn't
ever all pure cold logic, all on the facts. Nothing
that had to do with people ever could wholly be
like that. You had a feeling, you had a hunch,
(17:52):
and you couldn't drop every other line to follow it up.
But a real fourteen carrit hunch turned out to be
worth something. Sometimes say it was subconscious reasoning out of
experience and knowledge. It wasn't always just a feeling, all right,
said Hackett, amiably cold water. I don't like the doll
much myself. I said, I'd buy all that about the
(18:14):
guy at the skating rink, but there's nothing there to
show it's the same one. In fact, the little we
have got on that one, it suggests he admired the
girl wanted to pick her up like that, whether for
murder or sex. So it does, said Mendoza, And no
hint of anything like that for Carroll Brooks gun opened
his mouth, shouted, looked at Hackett's bland expression and said,
(18:35):
you saw both bodies. Of course you're a better judge
of what the similarity there is worth. Oh, let's be psychological,
said Mendoza. Not even that, Art says to me, before
I look at Ramiers, it's another Brooks. Maybe he put
it in my mind. Sure, lay it on me. There
was a short silence, and then Mendoza said, as if
continuing argument, nobody's interested in this kind of killing, No,
(18:58):
except those of us who were paid to be interested.
But it's the kind everybody ought to take passionate interest
in the most dangerous kind there is, just because it's
without motive, or having the motive only of sudden impulsive violence.
The lunatic kill, So it might happen to anybody. Clara
O casey, Let one like that kill a dozen twenty
leave his mark to show us the same killer. Then
(19:20):
he's won for the books, the classic case. And don't
tell me I got no evidence these were lunatic kills.
It's negative evidence, I grant you. But there it is.
We looked. You know, nobody above ground had any reason
to murder the Brooks girl. And she wasn't killed for
what cash she had on her. The couple of little
things we got on ramires nothing to lead the murder,
and she wasn't robbed either, not to that murder. I
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don't have to tell you that brute violence of that sort,
it's either very personal hate or lunacy. Morgan cleared his throat.
He had been waiting in silence a little apart, his
case book out ready, if and when they remembered him.
I don't want to butt in. You know more about
all this, but I can't help feeling you're on the
wrong track here just for that reason. These people well,
(20:02):
after all, I don't suppose you're thinking the woman did
it and a thirteen year old kid Again a short silence,
Hackett leaned back in his chair and said, conversationally. I
picked up a thirteen year old kid a couple of
months ago who had shot his mother in the back
while she was watching TV. She had told him he
couldn't go to the movies that night. You remember that
breakfield business last year, Three kids, the oldest one thirteen,
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tied up two little girls and set fire to him.
One died, the other still in the hospital. I could
take you places in this town where a lot of
thirteen year old kids carry switch knives and pull off
organized gang raids on each other and the neighborhoods, stores,
and some of them aren't little innocents any other way either.
Juvenile had a couple in last week, and not the
first with second stage VD and both on heroin. Morgan said, helplessly.
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But this kid, he's not like that. He's just a kid,
like any kid that age. You can tell you know.
Something was said cut in Mendoza about his size, that
he to get his growth early. How big is he?
How strong? Almost as tall as I am five eight
and a half around there, still childish looking in the face,
(21:09):
But he's going to be a big man. He's built
that way, big bone structure. Wait, hell, I can't guess
about all this, said Morgan angrily. As far as I
can see, you got no reason at all to suspect
the lenstrooms of anything. I don't know what's in your
mind about this boy. You talk about lunatics and juvenile hoods,
So okay, which is he? You can't have it both ways.
The whole thing's crazy. Mendoza came a few steps toward him,
(21:33):
stood there, hands and pockets, looking down at him, a
little cold, a little annoyed. I've got nothing in my
mind about him right now. I don't know. This is
the hell of a low card, but I've got a
hell of a bad hint, and it's the best play
I got at the moment. Carroll Brooks was killed on
September twenty first, and these people left that neighborhood unexpectedly
and in a hurry, within twenty four hours. The woman
(21:54):
was working at night, so the boy was free to
come and go as he pleased. Shortly before Brooks was killed,
the woman showed interest in an article Brooks was buying
on time, and it now appears that the girl had
this with her before she was killed, and it subsequently disappeared.
I'm no psychiatrist, and I don't know how much what
any psychiatrist should say might be worth here. The boy
just into adolescence, probably suffering some shock when his father
(22:16):
abandoned them. Let that go. But he's big enough and
strong enough to have done the damage that was done.
If and I may take a jaundice view of his
psychological double talk, the fact remains that sex can play
some funny tricks with young adolescents sometimes, all right, These
people are now living in the neighborhood where eleanor Ramirez
was killed. I don't say they had anything to do
(22:37):
with either death or even the theft. I'd just like
to know a little bit more about them. Morgan shrugged
and flipped open his notebook. You're welcome to what I've got.
Missus Lenstrom applied for County relief six weeks ago and
was interviewed by a caseworker from that agency. She says
her husband deserted her and the boy last August. She
has no idea where he is now, hasn't heard from
(22:59):
him since she took a job between then and a
week or so before she applied. Says she can't go
on working on account of her health. She was referred
to a clinic, and there's a medical report here, various
troubles adding up to slight malnutrition and a general run
down condition. A proof for County Relief, and the case
shoved on to us to see if we can find Lindstrom,
make him contribute support. He's a carpenter, good record, age
(23:20):
forty four, description and so on and so on. They
both came from a place called Fayetteville in Minnesota, so
she said, And he glanced at Gunn. Yes, said Gunn thoughtfully,
And what does that mean either. Sometimes these husbands had
for home and mother. We usually query the hometown first,
and I have here a reply from the Battle Records
office in Fayetteville saying that no such family has ever
(23:43):
resided there. Don't tell me, said Mendoza. This, I'll tell you,
said Morgan, because we run into it a lot. Some
of these women are shamed to have the folks at
home know about it, and they don't realize we're going
to check on it. The same with former addresses here,
and she gave me a false mone on that too.
Sure it doesn't necessarily mean no, but it's another little something.
(24:05):
What have you got on the boy? Nothing? Why should
I have? He exists? That's all we have to know.
He's normal, thirteen years old, name Martin Eric Lindstrom, attend
seventh grade at John C. Calhoun Junior High. Morgan shut
the book. That'll I'd like to know more about the boy.
We'll have a look round. No trace of the father yet.
(24:26):
It's early. We've only been on this a few days.
Routine inquiries out to every place in the area, hiring carpenters,
to vital records and so on in other counties and
so on. Yes, will you let me have a copy
of all that you've got, Please to my office. We'll
keep an eye on them, see what shows up if anything.
Thanks very much. When the two men from homicide had gone,
(24:46):
Gunn said, got one of the girls to type up
that report, send it over by hand. Okay, said Morgan.
I suppose he was half turned to the door, not
looking at gun I suppose that means he'll have men
watching that apartment. That's one of the basic moves. What's
the matter, Dick, Nothing, said Morgan violently, Nothing at all. Well, hell,
it's just that I guess Mendoza always rubbed me the
(25:08):
wrong way, that's all, always so damn sure of himself.
I think he's way off the beam here. It doesn't
look like much of anything, agreed Gunn. But on the
other hand, well, you never can be sure until you check.
End of chapter nine.
Chapter nine of case Pending by Del Shannon. The LibriVox
recordings in the public domain, Chapter nine Because afterward, thought Morgan,
both Morgan's there would be a time when Sue would
look at him that steady look of hers and want
the truth, and he had better know what he was
going to say. He wondered if he could tell her
(00:23):
half the truth convincingly. My god, no, I never meant.
But when he got mad and pulled a gun, I
and afterward I knew I couldn't tell the police the
whole story, you know, and go on forever after keeping
the rest a secret. He'd never been very good at
keeping secrets from Sue, but a big thing like this,
And there was also the consideration, wouldn't it be kinder
(00:45):
fairer not to put this on her conscience as it
would be on his? Let her go on thinking it
was accident, because he guessed it would be on his
conscience to some extent. You couldn't be brought up and
live half your life by certain basic ethics and forget
about them overnight. All the while he was thinking round
and about that. At the back of his mind, he
was talking to this woman, this missus Cotter quite normally.
(01:08):
Must have been or she'd been eyeing him oddly. By
this time, he saw that he had also been taking
notes in his case book of a few things she
had told him, and his writing looked quite normal too,
As usual. Now he was having some trouble getting away.
People liked to talk about these things. You had to
be polite, and sometimes they remembered something useful. He managed
(01:29):
it at last, backing down the steps while he thanked
her for the third time. His car was around the corner.
The only parking space there had been half an hour ago. Now,
of course, there were two or three empty spaces. Almost
in front of the building. As he came by, a long,
low black car was sliding quiet and neat into the
curb there. The car registered dimly with him, because you
didn't seem any like it, but he was passed when
(01:51):
the driver got out. It was the car, A vague
memory of it pulled Morgan's head round six steps farther on.
The driver was standing at the curb, lighting a cigarette
and pro file to him. Morgan stopped absurdly, his mouth
went dry, and his heart missed a few beats, hurried
to catch up. You damn a fool, he said to himself.
They're not mind readers, for God's sake, But he thought confusedly,
(02:14):
but an omen today, of all days, just run into
one like this casual. That was a man from homicide,
a headquarters man from Kenneth Gun's old department, Lieutenant Luis
Mendoza of Homicide. Morgan had met him twice, three times
at the guns, and again when their jobs had coincided,
that Hurst business, when one of the deserted wives had
(02:37):
shot herself and two kids. Luis Mendoza, besides the childish
panic resentment he had felt before, rose hot in Morgan's throat,
unreasonable resentment at the blind fate which handed one man
rewards he hadn't earned, didn't particularly deserve, and also more
personal resentment for the man Mendoza, with all that money
(02:57):
and not a soul in the world but himself to
spended on, no responsibilities, no obligations. Gunn talked about Mendoza
ordinary back street family, probably not much different from some
of these and neighborhoods like this, nothing of what you'd
call background, and the wily grandfather and all the money.
What the hell right had he to pretend such to
(03:17):
the manner born if indefinable insolence. Just the money, all
that money, do anything, have anything he damn pleased or
almost and by all accounts didn't he clothes, And it
wasn't that Morgan wanted to look like a damn fop
the way Mendoza did. But once in a while it
would be nice to get a new suit more than
once in five years, and not off the rack at
(03:38):
a cheap store. When there was a sale on that
silver gray herringbone Mendoza was wearing hadn't cost a dime
less than two hundred dollars. An apartment somewhere, not in
one of the new smart buildings out west where you
paid three hundred months for the street name and three
closet sized rooms, but the real thing, a big, quiet place,
spacious and all for himself. Everything just so, custom furniture,
(04:01):
probably air conditioning in summer maid service, the works. It
was the kind of ostentation that was like an iceberg,
most of it invisible. That was Mendoza, everything about him,
nothing remotely flashy, all under played. The ultra conservative clothes.
That damn custom built car. You had to look at
twice to know it for what it was even the
(04:21):
manner the man himself, that precise hairline, mustache, the way
he lit a cigarette. The a womanizer too, he would be,
and easy to think they were only after the money,
not for some reason altogether true. God knew what women
found so fascinating in such men. But he remembered Gun
saying that a little rueful as became a solid family man,
(04:42):
a little indulgent because he liked Mendoza, a little envious
the way any man would be poker and women after hours.
That's luis his two hobbies, you might say, and I
understand he's damn good at both. A lot of women
would be fools for such a man. Not that he
was so handsome, but he knew a script like an
actor playing a polished scene, and all for casual amusement,
(05:05):
all for Mendoza, and when he was bored the equal
he polished exit and forget it. Gun had said other
things about Mendoza, that he was a brilliant man, that
he never let go once he had his teeth into something.
All that, while the lighter flame touched the cigarette and
was flicked out, the lighter thrust back into the pocket,
(05:25):
Mendoza raised his head, took the cigarette out of his
mouth and saw Morgan there looking at him, and so
Morgan had to smile, say his name, the conventional things
you did say meeting an acquaintance. How's gun these days?
He's missed downtown. You know a good man. I understand
that's quite an organization he set up. Morgan agreed. He said,
you ran into some interesting cases sometimes he had one now,
(05:48):
but one thing for sure, you certainly had a chance
to see how the other half lived. But that'd be
an old story to Mendoza that you do, said the
man from homicide, and smoke trickled thin through his nostrils.
If he took in the double entendre, he gave no
sign of it. Well, nice to run in to you.
I'll give Gon your regards. Morgan seemed to be under
a compulsion to sound hearty, make inane little jokes. I hope,
(06:12):
by the way, we're not concerned with the same clients
again like that, hearst business and nasty. I want two
four one six. It was the building Morgan had just left.
He said, that's it. Be careful of the third step.
It's loose. I nearly broke my neck, Thanks very much,
and more conventionalities of leave taking, and he was free.
(06:33):
He started again for his car. The gun was suddenly
very heavy there against his chest. When he got out
his keys, he saw his hand shaking a little damn fool,
he thought, angrily. It's going to be all right, just
the way I wanted to go, no matter who, no
matter what, And by God, if it isn't, if the
very worst happens, whatever that might be, this was one
(06:55):
time anyway. He wouldn't stand still to be knocked out
of the ring. He'd have tried anyway. Missus Irene Cotter
was rather thrilled and wildly curious. Two men detectives of
all things, calling in one morning, and both about those lindstrums.
If you'd asked her, she'd have said, in fact, she
was saying it now to Mendoza, that most any other
(07:15):
tenants she had ever had while she was manageress here,
and that had been eleven years, were more likely to
bring detectives around that blonde hussy and three o seven,
for instance, or mister Jessup, who was not to beat
around the bush, just a nasty old man. And there
had been that couple in four nineteen that got drunk.
Most nights and through things. She had told him about
them all at some length, and when she remembered taking
(07:38):
pains with her grammar. Because this one was a lot
more interesting looking and seemed more interested in her than
the first one. She always thought there was something about
a man with a mustache. This one looked a little
bit like that fellow in the movies, the one that
was usually the villain. But personally she had thought about
a lot of the movies she'd seen with him, and
that the girl was an awful fool to prefer some
(07:58):
sheep eyed, collarad and dead, but there was no accounting
for tastes and a real gentleman too, beautiful manners. Of course,
that was one thing about these Mexus. People say things
about them, But of course there was classes of them,
just like anywhere, only when they were high class, like
this one, you said Spanish, And I tell you, when
he up and left, and everybody knew it, nobody could
(08:19):
hardly believe it. You'd never thought they was the kind
at all. Fly by nights. I mean that don't go
on steady, you know what I mean, all their lives.
But I tell you, Lieutenant, I'd like to sort of
study people and goodness knows, I get the chance in
my job. I said to myself at the time, there's
something behind it. There usually is. The man left in August.
You said early. I couldn't swear to the date, but
(08:40):
it was after the rent was due and paid. There
was never a day late. Good tenants. Maybe the first week.
And how long did the woman and uh boys stay on? Oh,
I can tell you that to the day. It was
the twenty second of September. They left, she told me
in the morning, late round noon maybe, and they went
that night, I remember, because she was paid to the
end of the month, but they went before. And I
did think that was funny because it must have been
(09:01):
she'd paid extra wherever they were moving, you know, to
move in before the first and already being paid up
to the first. Here you'd think, of course, I'd know.
She didn't say they might have been going back east
or somewheres. I did ask account of mail, not that
they ever had much of that, mostly ads, but she
never said just look at me as if I was
being nosy, and I'll tell you something else. Who's inant
you can believe it or not. But that was just
exactly the fourth time i'd spoke to Miss Lindstrom all
(09:23):
two years they'd been here. That was the kind they
was for her anyways, Why they'd moved in a week
or more before I ever laid eyes on her. It
was him rented the place and paid, and like most
people do, they moved in at night after work. You know,
not that they had much to bring a few sticks
of furniture. But I was telling you about when he went.
It was Miss Spinner in three nineteen told me right
next to him they had three twenty. You can see
(09:45):
that I wouldn't notice right off, especially with them. Sometimes
I'd see him going off in the morning or coming home,
but not every day. And Miss Spinner thought I ought
to know he had left at least hadn't been there.
She didn't think four or five days at the times.
She told me, well, they've paid up to the end
of August. I didn't go asking questions till then, none
of my business. But when September first coming around, it
was her come down to pay the rent, and then
I did figure better know where we stood, if you
(10:06):
see what I mean, without wanting to be nosy, added
missus Carter virtuously, she wouldn't admit he had gone and
left her froze right up and said I needn't worry
about the rent, and some rigam roll about. He was
called back east sudden, But all the same to me.
It wasn't a week before she had to get herself
a job, so I knew, all right. And if you
ask me where did she work? Do you know? Sure?
It was a night job cleaning offices downtown the Curtis Building.
(10:29):
That's where I was going to say, Lieutenant, that kind
of job shows you what she was like. And if
you ask me, it all ties in. It was probably
all her whole thing. She was one of them old maids,
married like they say, for sure, went around with a
slurd look all the time, never smiled or friendly word,
and passing and asked for looks. Well, I don't suppose
she was more than forty. And I tell you she
looked like her own grandmother, hair screwed up in a
little bun behind, and her skin like a piece of sandpaper.
(10:50):
You could tell she never took care of herself. Probably
used laundry soap and that's that. Never scrap of makeup
and cheap old cotton house dresses. Well i've ever seen
her in you know well as me, there's no call
for a woman and let herself go like that in
these days. And if she acted to him the way
she did everybody else, even the youngster, well, between you
and me and the gate posts, I don't blame him
for walking out. A man can take just so much.
She'd been the kind wouldn't let him sleep with her either,
(11:11):
regular prunes and prison old maid like they say, if
you know what I mean, why if she'd taken a
little trouble, fixed herself up and act nwe she could
have got a better job waiting in a store or something.
You know, daytimes, there's just no call for a woman
to look like that, if she'd got any self respect.
But she wasn't one you could talk too friendly, you know,
give any fice like she was downright rude to everybody
trying to make friends. So after a while nobody tried
(11:32):
no more, just let them be. And I do think
he'd have been different times he came to pay for
rent or if you met him going out like that,
he always acted friendly, and but lot I figure he
just got good and fed up with the whole way
she was. It must have been like living with a
set and bear trap. The detective grinned at that, and
she permitted herself a lady like titter, smoothing her defiantly
brown pompadour. I gather you didn't exchange much casual talk
(11:55):
with the woman at any time. Nobody did. She wasn't
let him. Ever. Hear mentioned going to buy a doll
that I did not. It wasn't a girl she had.
It was a boy, I thought, I said, Marty his
name was. He favored his dad. I must say. He
was a nice raised boy. Always took his cap off
to you, and he was real quiet for a boy.
You know. He'd be about eleven or bit past when
they come. And last year when they were here, he
was all of a sudden started to shoot up early
(12:17):
like some do, going to be as big as his dad.
You could see a real nice boy. He was not
like his ma at all. Well, I'm sure I don't
know why she'd be buying a doll unless it was
for some of her family back east. Might be she
had a niece or something. But for goodness sake, lieutenant,
won't you tell me what this is all about? What
she done? Or is it him? I mean, I don't
know that either, of them's done anything. It's a matter
of getting evidence. That's all not very important. He was
(12:40):
standing up. Oh, I must say, I can't help being
curious too. If you come and same day ask about them,
you can't blame me for that, couldn't you? So mister
Morgan was asking about the Lindstrums too. He looked thoughtful,
and then smiled and began to think her. She saw
she wouldn't get any more out of him, but that
didn't stop her from speculating the linens of all people.
(13:02):
Missus Carter watched him down the walk to his car.
Heaved an excited sigh after him, and hurried upstairs to
tell Missus Spenner all about it. The clock over the
row of foam booths in the first drug store he
came to said ten past twelve. Mendoza spent an annoying
five minutes looking up at the number in a tattered book.
Finally got the office and just caught Gun on his
way out to lunch. Oh, Luis, how's the boy good
(13:25):
to hear from you? Say? I'm afraid Andrews I did
didn't pay off you know about that hood New York
wants for jumping pearl it was a long chance find
him through the wife. And of course it may be
she's collecting from some other county agency. If he wants
what's that sure thing? Anything I can tell you, Morgan, Well,
he's probably having lunch somewhere right now. It's one of
his cases, that's all. And all I want from you
is the present address. The name is missus Marian Lindstrom.
(13:48):
Apparently she's only recently applied for relief. If we're working
on it, that's so within a few months. Anyway, it'll
be right here in the current file. Hang on, I'll look.
Mendoza opened the door for air. While he waited, he
was rapidly developing a guilty conscience, wasting time over this
meaningless thing. He didn't get paid or shouldn't for listening
to inconsequential gossip. A dozen things he should have been
(14:11):
doing this morning besides Graham Court, said Gun's voice in
his ear. Oh any idea approximately where that is? Somewhere
down the wrong side of Maine, that area below first
or second. We've got no boy there, sir, said Mendoza
very softly to himself. It can't be not so easy.
I won't believe it when Morgan comes in, tell him
(14:31):
to wait. I want to see him. Call me at
my office, immediamente or even quicker. I want everything you
got on these people. Let me have that address again.
It was Gone, of course, and not Hackett, who said
all the things Hackett might say later before outsiders like this.
Hackett paid lip service to rank Gun had once been
Mendoza superior. He spoke up by the same token. Of course,
(14:54):
Mendoza wouldn't have talked so freely if Gun hadn't been
a retired homicide man. You got all your wife crossed, Louis.
What you got here is just damn all. It doesn't
mean a thing. First off, how many people you suppose
moved out of that section of town last September. There's
no narrow it down to a couple of blocks. You
have to take it at least a square mile, call
it in even half a mile. I guess seven eight
(15:16):
thousand families, cause you're taken in apartments, not just single houses.
In that kind of neighborhood, people aren't settled. They move
around more. And I know, I know, said Mendoza. And
that's the least of all the arguments against this meaning
anything at all. But say it. It's not even very
significant that the move should be from the twenty four
hundred block on Tappan to it in two blocks of
Commerce and Humble, because those are the same sort of neighborhoods,
(15:39):
same rent levels, same class and colored people. All right, evidence,
He hunched his shoulders angrily, turning from staring at the
view out Gun's office window. Say it, even if it
eased the same killer. No guarantee he lived anywhere near
either of the girls. So all this is Kento's the
highest just fairy tales. Hackett made a small doleful sounded
(16:00):
his cigarette. I guess you're saying it yourself, Lieutenant. You've
got no evidence, Gunn said flatly. You'd just like to
think so, which isn't like you, Louise, What the hell
have you got? I I've got two dead girls, said Mendoza,
abrupt and harsh, and they don't matter one damn. You
know the kind of murders that happened in any big
town this week, next week, next year, No glamor, no excitement,
(16:24):
no big names, nothing to go in the books The
Clever Whimsy. On Classic cases of the Clever Fiction, ten
wise cracks guaranteed to the page, a surprise ending to
every chapter where fifteen people have fifteen motives for the
murder and fifteen faked alibis for the crucial minute conveniently
fixed by a pre arranged long distance phone call. They
weren't very important or interesting females, these two, and anybody
(16:46):
at all might have killed them. You know, he swung
on gun. This kind of thing. It doesn't go like
the books. The clues laid out neat, like a paper
trail in a game. You start where you can, and
you take a look everywhere at everything give us, and
then you start all over again. I know, said Gun heavily.
What I'm saying is you got nothing at all to
link these two cases. The doll that's really out of bounds. Boy,
(17:08):
that one I don't figure anyway. The odds are that
somebody found the girl, didn't report it, but picked up
the package. You're so right, said Mendoza. It was dark
and her hand bag was half under her, almost hidden.
Well there you are. They were killed the same general way.
But it's not very unusual method brute violence that, I
said Hackett to a cigarette. Gun looked at him. Back
(17:31):
to Mendoza. If it's a real hunch, Louis. All I
got to say is keep throwing cold water at it.
If it's just naturally drowns, let it go. What else
am I doing for? They both knew that it wasn't
ever all pure cold logic, all on the facts. Nothing
that had to do with people ever could wholly be
like that. You had a feeling, you had a hunch,
(17:52):
and you couldn't drop every other line to follow it up.
But a real fourteen carrit hunch turned out to be
worth something. Sometimes say it was subconscious reasoning out of
experience and knowledge. It wasn't always just a feeling, all right,
said Hackett, amiably cold water. I don't like the doll
much myself. I said, I'd buy all that about the
(18:14):
guy at the skating rink, but there's nothing there to
show it's the same one. In fact, the little we
have got on that one, it suggests he admired the
girl wanted to pick her up like that, whether for
murder or sex. So it does, said Mendoza, And no
hint of anything like that for Carroll Brooks gun opened
his mouth, shouted, looked at Hackett's bland expression and said,
(18:35):
you saw both bodies. Of course you're a better judge
of what the similarity there is worth. Oh, let's be psychological,
said Mendoza. Not even that, Art says to me, before
I look at Ramiers, it's another Brooks. Maybe he put
it in my mind. Sure, lay it on me. There
was a short silence, and then Mendoza said, as if
continuing argument, nobody's interested in this kind of killing, No,
(18:58):
except those of us who were paid to be interested.
But it's the kind everybody ought to take passionate interest
in the most dangerous kind there is, just because it's
without motive, or having the motive only of sudden impulsive violence.
The lunatic kill, So it might happen to anybody. Clara
O casey, Let one like that kill a dozen twenty
leave his mark to show us the same killer. Then
(19:20):
he's won for the books, the classic case. And don't
tell me I got no evidence these were lunatic kills.
It's negative evidence, I grant you. But there it is.
We looked. You know, nobody above ground had any reason
to murder the Brooks girl. And she wasn't killed for
what cash she had on her. The couple of little
things we got on ramires nothing to lead the murder,
and she wasn't robbed either, not to that murder. I
(19:41):
don't have to tell you that brute violence of that sort,
it's either very personal hate or lunacy. Morgan cleared his throat.
He had been waiting in silence a little apart, his
case book out ready, if and when they remembered him.
I don't want to butt in. You know more about
all this, but I can't help feeling you're on the
wrong track here just for that reason. These people well,
(20:02):
after all, I don't suppose you're thinking the woman did
it and a thirteen year old kid Again a short silence,
Hackett leaned back in his chair and said, conversationally. I
picked up a thirteen year old kid a couple of
months ago who had shot his mother in the back
while she was watching TV. She had told him he
couldn't go to the movies that night. You remember that
breakfield business last year, Three kids, the oldest one thirteen,
(20:24):
tied up two little girls and set fire to him.
One died, the other still in the hospital. I could
take you places in this town where a lot of
thirteen year old kids carry switch knives and pull off
organized gang raids on each other and the neighborhoods, stores,
and some of them aren't little innocents any other way either.
Juvenile had a couple in last week, and not the
first with second stage VD and both on heroin. Morgan said, helplessly.
(20:48):
But this kid, he's not like that. He's just a kid,
like any kid that age. You can tell you know.
Something was said cut in Mendoza about his size, that
he to get his growth early. How big is he?
How strong? Almost as tall as I am five eight
and a half around there, still childish looking in the face,
(21:09):
But he's going to be a big man. He's built
that way, big bone structure. Wait, hell, I can't guess
about all this, said Morgan angrily. As far as I
can see, you got no reason at all to suspect
the lenstrooms of anything. I don't know what's in your
mind about this boy. You talk about lunatics and juvenile hoods,
So okay, which is he? You can't have it both ways.
The whole thing's crazy. Mendoza came a few steps toward him,
(21:33):
stood there, hands and pockets, looking down at him, a
little cold, a little annoyed. I've got nothing in my
mind about him right now. I don't know. This is
the hell of a low card, but I've got a
hell of a bad hint, and it's the best play
I got at the moment. Carroll Brooks was killed on
September twenty first, and these people left that neighborhood unexpectedly
and in a hurry, within twenty four hours. The woman
(21:54):
was working at night, so the boy was free to
come and go as he pleased. Shortly before Brooks was killed,
the woman showed interest in an article Brooks was buying
on time, and it now appears that the girl had
this with her before she was killed, and it subsequently disappeared.
I'm no psychiatrist, and I don't know how much what
any psychiatrist should say might be worth here. The boy
just into adolescence, probably suffering some shock when his father
(22:16):
abandoned them. Let that go. But he's big enough and
strong enough to have done the damage that was done.
If and I may take a jaundice view of his
psychological double talk, the fact remains that sex can play
some funny tricks with young adolescents sometimes, all right, These
people are now living in the neighborhood where eleanor Ramirez
was killed. I don't say they had anything to do
(22:37):
with either death or even the theft. I'd just like
to know a little bit more about them. Morgan shrugged
and flipped open his notebook. You're welcome to what I've got.
Missus Lenstrom applied for County relief six weeks ago and
was interviewed by a caseworker from that agency. She says
her husband deserted her and the boy last August. She
has no idea where he is now, hasn't heard from
(22:59):
him since she took a job between then and a
week or so before she applied. Says she can't go
on working on account of her health. She was referred
to a clinic, and there's a medical report here, various
troubles adding up to slight malnutrition and a general run
down condition. A proof for County Relief, and the case
shoved on to us to see if we can find Lindstrom,
make him contribute support. He's a carpenter, good record, age
(23:20):
forty four, description and so on and so on. They
both came from a place called Fayetteville in Minnesota, so
she said, And he glanced at Gunn. Yes, said Gunn thoughtfully,
And what does that mean either. Sometimes these husbands had
for home and mother. We usually query the hometown first,
and I have here a reply from the Battle Records
office in Fayetteville saying that no such family has ever
(23:43):
resided there. Don't tell me, said Mendoza. This, I'll tell you,
said Morgan, because we run into it a lot. Some
of these women are shamed to have the folks at
home know about it, and they don't realize we're going
to check on it. The same with former addresses here,
and she gave me a false mone on that too.
Sure it doesn't necessarily mean no, but it's another little something.
(24:05):
What have you got on the boy? Nothing? Why should
I have? He exists? That's all we have to know.
He's normal, thirteen years old, name Martin Eric Lindstrom, attend
seventh grade at John C. Calhoun Junior High. Morgan shut
the book. That'll I'd like to know more about the boy.
We'll have a look round. No trace of the father yet.
(24:26):
It's early. We've only been on this a few days.
Routine inquiries out to every place in the area, hiring carpenters,
to vital records and so on in other counties and
so on. Yes, will you let me have a copy
of all that you've got, Please to my office. We'll
keep an eye on them, see what shows up if anything.
Thanks very much. When the two men from homicide had gone,
(24:46):
Gunn said, got one of the girls to type up
that report, send it over by hand. Okay, said Morgan.
I suppose he was half turned to the door, not
looking at gun I suppose that means he'll have men
watching that apartment. That's one of the basic moves. What's
the matter, Dick, Nothing, said Morgan violently, Nothing at all. Well, hell,
it's just that I guess Mendoza always rubbed me the
(25:08):
wrong way, that's all, always so damn sure of himself.
I think he's way off the beam here. It doesn't
look like much of anything, agreed Gunn. But on the
other hand, well, you never can be sure until you check.
End of chapter nine.
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