The Case of the Vanished Lovera Stealthboxxer Mystery
Chapter 11
It was raining, of course, when I arrived at Laurel's home on Eastside St. The narrow street was lined with two fast moving watercourses streaming north under and around the many dingy and rusting parked cars toward 4th Ave. At the intersection with 4th both streams merged with the faster moving waters coming down the 4th Ave hill and fairly flooded the entire intersection. Cars going up the hill had to swerve into the downhill lane to avoid the small lake which had developed there before it rushed on down toward the half clogged sewer at the base of the hill which eventually spilled all the rain washed muck and mire of a busy little city into Budd Bay, the Southern end of Puget Sound.
I arrived a few minutes after 7 hoping that I would not have to make chit-chat with some spinster aunt or doting old maid friend who might be looking after the young and unmarried Laurel. Besides, it took nearly a full half hour to brush off my dinner jacket and try to blot out the encrusted gravy stain that I had found on it when I dug it out of the closet. Who knows which bender it was that I picked up that stain on. Lately my illustrious night life was only a disappointingly lackluster blur. My good black trousers that I had picked up from Lu Tan were a little lighter than the jacket but it would do on a dark night in a dim dance hall. Too bad I stepped into the pothole while crossing the street to Laurel's house and drenched the left pant leg well above the knee. Oh well, Lu Tan needs to make a living too.
I stepped up the stoop and rang the buzzer at Laurel's place while the rain ran off of the eave right onto my head. Shouldn't have left my hat in the car. Right on cue a wrinkly heavyset old woman cracked the door and demanded behind the chain to know who I was to be calling so late in the evening. At this Laurel piped up from somewhere inside and yelled, "Aunt Maggie, that must be my date, Mr. Stealthboxxer. You remember, I told you about him. He's the private investigator that came by the library the other day. Just let him in."
Aunt Maggie unchained the door and then opened it wide enough to let some light onto my rain drenched face and enough for me to see the 18 inch rolling pin in her right hand. She took stock of me and then said loudly in a sickeningly sweet voice while facing me, "Oh, your man friend says he's content to wait outside until you are ready,
Dear." Then in a rough low voice directly to me with her arms crossed in an obstinate posture of obvious intent to bar my way into the house, “Don’t you even think about trying to come in here Mr. Stealthblosser or whatever your name is. I know all about you private detectives. Dirty deeds and dark business for sure. Look here, my little Laurel is a very innocent girl but she's a smart one and she chooses to do what she wants to. If she chooses to go out with you then fine, though I won’t like it one bit. Just know this, Mr. Staltbrommer, if you so much as lay one hand on her, so help me....", she gave the rolling pin a little shake. "And you had better have her back here no later than 10 o'clock. The Olympia police chief's wife is on my bridge club and I won't hesitate to call her up on a Tuesday night if you try anything mister."
I sauntered up a little closer to her so that we were eye to eye as she stood on the threshold. I smiled wide and said in a matter of fact way, "Oh, really. Tell Mildred hello for me when you girls get together over at Janet Barbur's place this Thursday night, will you? And if you see Mildred's husband George when you go by to pick her up you can tell the chief that SB said that he won't be able to go elk hunting with him on our usual mid November trip because I will probably be working on a case." She snapped back about two feet when I dropped those names. I kept smiling and continued, "Don't you worry about Laurel, 'Aunt Maggie'. I'll take good care of her and she will be back safe and sound when we are finished with the evening."
Laurel then appeared from a back room and stepped up to the doorway. I just continued to smile at Aunt Maggie who was forced to smile back, dumbfounded as she continued to step backward into the house. Laurel began, "Oh, Enigma, sorry to keep you waiting. I'm ready to leave now." Turning, "Goodnight, Aunt Maggie. Don't wait up for me, I may be late getting in tonight."
"Allright, dear. Whatever you say. Have a good time." The last phrase was almost a question rather than a statement.
Laurel stepped outside and shut the door, pulled a scarf over her curls and slipped her arm inside mine. "Let's go. I can't wait to hear the band tonight. I just adore jazz. Thank you so much for taking me." We skipped across the street and into the car.
The Evergreen Ballroom is a newer wooden structure that sits along the Old Pacific Highway just northeast of the town of Lacey, a few miles north of Olympia. It is the last dance hall of any renown south of Seattle and north of Vancouver, Washington on the old Pacific Highway. Usually featuring local bands playing dance music for mostly soldiers out on leave from Fort Lewis, the Evergreen also regularly featured more prominent groups from the Seattle and Portland areas as well as some more famous traveling groups from Los Angeles, San Francisco and Chicago.
Tonight the bill was featuring the Jan Svensen Band from Ballard, Washington, the heavily Scandinavian populated borough of Seattle. Also on the bill was an up and coming Seattle singer, Eluciva Voiler, as a guest of the Svensen band. The Jan Svensen Band was locally getting a good reputation as a better standard jazz group rather than the more popular but usually less talented swing bands of the area. I like jazz and apparently so did Laurel so I figured it would be a good night for both of us. Funny how things rarely turn out like you plan them.
When we pulled into the gravel lot surrounding the ballroom there were about 20 cars already parked. I found a spot down toward the back end of the building under the boughs of a Douglas fir tree. There was a large mud puddle on the passenger side so I had Laurel slide over and exit my car on the driver side. That end of the parking lot was quite dark and I managed to step into a small but surprisingly deep puddle just to the rear of my car and successfully drenched my right pant leg to match the damp and mud stained left leg that I had toweled off on the way to the hall. It doesn’t rain but it pours.
We made our way to the entrance of the club and I paid the $1 cover for Laurel and myself and we found a table to the left of the dance floor and stage. The house band was playing a lukewarm rendition of Body and Soul to a disinterested crowd of diners. Waiters moved in and out of the hall carrying trays of dinner plates and beverages. I flagged down a bus boy and tipped him 50 cents to send the waiter with a cold draught Olympia Beer for me and a scotch and water for Laurel when he brought out our menus. A very short little man who resembled Peter Lorre wearing a white shirt and bow tie came out shortly after and brought our drinks and the menu. I ordered a T Bone with broiled potatoes and spinach and Laurel ordered the broiled salmon with lemon spiced rice.
Our meal arrived a little while later. The steak was overcooked and full of gristle, just the way I like it. The potatoes were undercooked- a little too firm in the middle, and the spinach had sand in it. Laurel's fish and rice dish was perfectly prepared but, typical of most women when on a date, she didn't really eat it but just picked at it a little. We chit chatted for a while as we ate and the subject of my investigations came up. I told Laurel that my findings were taking me on a very interesting journey but I didn't tell her any of the details of what I had learned from Davis McPhetridge and his son. Considering what old McPhetridge had written in his notes I didn't feel like I should put Laurel in any potential danger with any such knowledge. She gave me two folded sheets of paper from her handbag with the notes on the Escalate visit that I had asked her for earlier. After I had the notes secured in my jacket pocket I deftly changed the subject of our conversation to jazz music and we perused the playbill that was on the table detailing the night's show as well as advertisements for upcoming scheduled acts at the 'Green as it was called locally.
Promptly at 8:30pm the house band cleared out and the Jan Svensen Band took the stage. The house lights dimmed a bit and the band members began to setup and tune up their instruments, a platoon of waiters came out and cleared the remaining dinner dishes and took drink orders in advance of the evening's show. I ordered another Olympia beer and Laurel just sipped the remainder of her scotch.
Just before the band began to play, my FBI buddy, George Masser walked by and sat down two tables to the left of us. I know he recognized me because I saw the slight twitch in his upper lip as we made eye contact when he passed. He was alone tonight and I saw him give the hand sign to Peter Lorre for 2 and then mouth what I am sure was the word 'bourbon'. Well, at least he has good taste in booze. I wasn't surprised to see him alone even though he had commented on Saturday evening about his dinner date. G-men rarely get romantically involved, too much unpleasant business too often coupled with too consistently odd working hours make it near impossible to maintain meaningful relationships. Same goes for private detectives as I could heartily attest. Still, he wasn't a bad looking fellow and as I recall he had always claimed to be quite the lady's man. As I watched the waiter move away to retrieve his drink order he glanced at me and sneered and then fixed his eyes on the stage obviously giving me the cold shoulder. Nice friend you have there Enigma.
Jan Svensen, a tall and muscular blonde Swede, stepped up the microphone with a clarinet in hand and introduced his band to the guests. Then they began their set with the classic jazz song, Sugar Foot Stomp. After the first song Svensen returned to the microphone to a mild smattering of applause and then began to introduce the individual band members, each member playing a flourish on his instrument as he was introduced. They played another song that I did not recognize, a catchy little tune bordering on swing but with just a bit of a blues tint to it. It was toward the end of this second song that I caught my first glimpse of an attractively figured woman with long auburn hair in a beige gown swaying to the beat while standing just in front of the curtain on the right wing of the stage. I could not see her face as it was obscured by the saxophonist but I knew it must be the singer, Eluciva Voiler, getting ready to come out and sing. The band ended that song to a bit more applause this time and Jan again stepped to the mic. This time he thanked the audience for their warmth and then began to introduce the singer, "Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you our special guest tonight, all the way from Chicago and direct from the Spencer Club in Seattle, the lovely and talented Miss Eluciva Voiler!"
I was mesmerized from the first sight of this gorgeous creature. She seemed like an angel on the stage under the slight spotlight. The band began to play but all I could hear was a voluptuous voice that sounded to me like honey dripping onto piles of whipped cream. All the other sights around this fair beauty seemed to fade away as I was captivated by her commanding performance. I have no idea what song she was singing or how long it played. I only remember feeling transported somehow to a quiet place where the glow of her radiant face lighted up an otherwise deep dark existence. As she finished her song she bowed and then looked directly at me and smiled a smile that made my whole body limp. I vaguely recall Laurel saying something to me but I was so transfixed on this singer that I did not comprehend anything she said. The band began a peppy little number next and Miss Eluciva began to do a little dance step before sauntering up and belting out this livelier song much to the audience's delight. A few couples got up to dance but I just sat there with my mouth open, eyes glued to her as she shimmied and swayed to the beat. With her dance like moves I was even more enamored with her presence and could not hear Laurel telling me that she would like to dance. Finally she yelled at me, "Enigma! Are you daft? I said want to dance!"
I partially came to and turned to her in a half daze and said, "Alright, go ahead.", my eyes going directly back to the object of my fascination on the stage in front of me. Laurel sat back in her chair, her mouth open in a 'I can't believe you are not paying any attention to me' huff.
Just then, George Masser appeared at our table and he said to me while looking at Laurel, "Stealthboxxer, your lady friend here obviously wants to dance tonight. Since you seem to not be interested I am going to take this lovely lady out on the floor and show her a good time."
"Alright." I mumbled this but never took my eyes off of Eluciva. Laurel, again just looked at me with her mouth open in disbelief and then Masser took her by the hand and moved her out to the dance floor while I sat spellbound, still only seeing this gorgeous singer who seemed to be floating in the air in front of me. Occasionally the singer would look my way and each time my body would feel like so much gelatin. Each time she would smile at me in a way that made me feel like she was singing only for me. The song ended to hoots and hollers mixed in with the applause and the lady then introduced the next song, another dance tune. Masser and Laurel stayed out on the floor and danced through three more songs while I just sat there unaware of what was going on around me. At the end of this song, Jan Svensen came back to the microphone and offered up Eluciva for applause which the crowd gave boisterously. Then he announced that they were going to take a break and reminded the crowd to order more drinks as they would be back in 10 minutes for their next set.
At this, Masser and Laurel came back to the table and sat down, Masser to my left and Laurel directly in front of me. Peter Lorre appeared again and Masser ordered another bourbon for himself and another scotch for Laurel. He said to me, "Can I get you another beer sir?" To which I just said, "What? Oh, yes, another beer." He moved away quickly to the kitchen and I looked down to find I was still holding my half full stale beer. I was beginning to come out of my daze and realized what had just happened with Masser moving in on my date. It didn't really bother me but it was obviously bothering Laurel quite a bit. She just glared at me while Masser began to take control of the conversation at our table, persistently pulling Laurel's gaze away from me and toward him.
"I am sorry, Miss, I didn't catch your name."
"Its Laurel. Laurel Greenwood." She extended her hand to him and he shook it but did not let it go.
"Oh, my. Forgive me, Miss Greenwood, or can I call you Laurel? I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm George Masser. I'm a friend of Mr. Stealthboxxer's. Its very nice to meet you Laurel. You are really a fine dancer. Do you come here often?" A question which he knew the answer to. He was a regular of the Evergreen Ballroom by the way the waiter treated him and was obviously continuing on his objective to move in on Laurel and move me out of the picture.
"Well, no, Mr. Masser, this is the first time I have been here. Enigma ASKED ME OUT ON A DATE TONIGHT to see this jazz group." Her meaning was hard to miss. She was very upset at my inattention. I decided to not play her game and just stared at my drink. "I just adore jazz, don't you, Mr. Masser?"
That was the signal he was looking for. "Yes I do, Laurel, I adore jazz too. Please, call me George."
"Alright, George." This time she smiled that same smile that she gave me at the library. The transfer was complete. I was now out of the picture altogether. Masser had successfully moved in and captured my date. It didn't really bother me. Laurel was very nice but I really didn't have time for romance while working on this case anyway. Besides, her and Masser getting together might make things a bit safer for Laurel if there was anything of danger in just knowing what we had uncovered about Geraldson, McCaw and the Escalate. Masser could protect her much better than I could.
The waiter appeared again with the drinks and quickly departed while Masser continued sweet talking Laurel. I downed the beer I had been holding and took a big gulp of the fresh one the waiter had just brought out. I made a feint of listening in to Laurel and Masser and their small talk. Laurel never again even glanced at me but it didn’t matter to me anyway. All the while they cajoled my mind kept going back to the image of the incredibly captivating singer who had just caused me to act like such a fool. No woman has ever had such an effect on me.
Ten minutes flew by and the band returned. This time, the lady appeared in a black gown with sequins sown into it. She sparkled as she walked onto the stage and I was again totally mesmerized by her presence. This time the band began a slow and sultry blues melody to which Eluciva sang a very provocative and sexy lyrical performance. That was almost too much for me. The song seemed to last an eternity with me, again, dumbfounded by her voice and physical appearance. This woman was unreal! Finally, after who knows how long, the song ended and the lady took her bow to strong applause. When she arose from her bow she looked directly at me at blew me a kiss. This action caused me to drop my nearly full glass of beer onto the table. The glass shattered and the beer spilled all over the table and all over Laurel's dress. Laurel was startled by the splattering of the beer and began to stand up and shout in shock and anger. Masser began to sop up the excess beer from her dress with a few napkins from the table but her appearance and dress was obviously quite ruined from the spill. He turned to me and angrily said, "Get a hold of yourself Stealthboxxer. You are some piece of work. You know, you had better clear out of here before I have to take you out myself. What a louse." He turned back to Laruel.
Laurel was yammering and crying at the same time. The band, which had been about to begin another song was now distracted by the commotion. I looked up and the lady had left the stage, much to my disappointment. But still, now that she was not there I was able to actually get a grip on the situation. I took a quick assessment at what was going on and decided that Masser was right, I had better clear out before I caused more trouble for poor Laurel. I left a $20 gold piece on the table just as the waiter showed up with some towels to clean up the mess and I left. I knew that Masser would probably take Laurel home after he tried to get as far as she would let him. And the thought of Aunt Maggie greeting him at the door as he delivered her home with a beer soaked dress gave me some consolation that the night would not be a total waste. As I walked out of the front door of the dance hall I heard the band start up on another dance tune. Soon my little show would be forgotten and the patrons would return to dancing and drinking the night away.
I walked across the gravel lot to the rear stall where my car was parked under the fir tree. I remembered the pothole and side stepped it just in time to avoid another soggy trouser leg. The rain had let up to become just a slight drizzle so at least I had that to be thankful for. I reached for the handle of the door when I heard a rustle under the tree in front of my car.
"That’s him alright." I heard the voice but could not see who was talking. It didn't matter because immediately after hearing the words I was punched in the kidney by someone who had crept up behind me. I winced in pain as the man behind me grabbed my arms and threw me against the car while a shadowy figure came toward me and into my view from under the tree. Fedora. "Well, well, well. Seems we caught ourselves a little snoop. You've been poking your nose into places it don't belong Mr. Stealthboxxer. It would be advisable that you just mind your own business." Crack. I felt the fist almost break my left jaw. My mouth began to flood with the blood from my ruptured inner cheek. I wasn't sure if a couple of teeth were not loosed too. "Check him for a piece. I want to make sure he doesn't make any trouble for us while we give him a what for." The fellow holding my arms let go of my left arm but gave my right arm a good twist to remind me that he was still holding on while he patted me down for any weapons I might be carrying. Good thing I left my gun at home.
"Nothing." came the low voice from behind me.
"Bring him over here under the tree. Lets take care of this in private." The man behind me grabbed my left arm again and pushed me toward the front of the car and under the boughs of the fir tree. Then Fedora, again came near and said, "Mr. P.I., you are going to go home and forget that you ever heard anything about the McCaw Logging Company, aren't you?" I said nothing. Crack. This time my other jaw. "I asked you a question, Stealthboxxer." I remained silent but spit the blood out onto his shoes. This infuriated him and he grabbed me by the collar. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson so you don't forget what I said." His knee impacted my gut so hard that I doubled over despite the grip that the man behind me had on my arms. I couldn't breath. Standing over me, Fedora said, "Now I think we have an understanding don't we, Mr. Stealthboxxer?" I began to catch my breath and realized that I was no longer being held anymore. Angered at being caught unaware and realizing that I had one perpetrator directly behind me and another directly in front, I made a fist and fiercely elbowed the man behind me in the gut and then punched the groin of the man in front of me. I heard the man behind me cough and the man in front of me scream in pain. Then, I felt the thump of a fist on the back of my neck and everything went totally black.
To be continued . . . 
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