The Dame Did It (11 page)

“I am most definitely not interested,” Hazel
said, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t mean you, kid. But I sure would
like to know more about this person she’s seeing.”

“Maybe I could help. I mean, my Dad used to
be a private investigator and all.”

Hazel could see that Franklin tried not to
laugh.

“Come on, kid. What can you do?”

“Well, Cora knows me. And she wouldn’t
expect me spying since you work with me all the time anyway. I
could try getting closer to hear and see what I could learn.”

Hazel noted Franklin’s amused look. “And
what would be in it for you?”

“While I’m on this gig, you let me keep the
percent you normally pocket for me at the club.”

Franklin hesitated and thought it over.

“You don’t trust me?” Hazel asked.

“No,” he told her. “It’s just so crazy it
might work.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out that
night’s bit of cash, which he handed to Hazel, as the cab pulled up
to his brownstone home.

“Have to get creative telling the wife what
happened to the dollars, but hopefully this won’t last long. I
can’t give you more than two weeks.”

Hazel took the money from Franklin. “I’ll do
my best,” she told him. “Good night.”

Franklin got out and the driver took her
home.

At home, Aunt Luella Wall waited up as
usual. Having taken responsibility for Hazel in some form since her
birth, Luella worried about Hazel growing up right and not making
the best choices. Hazel always saw Aunt Luella as
overprotective.

“There you are coming home late again! And
without that Franklin Gorton this time! How often have I insisted
he bring you home first to make sure you always come home
safe?”

“But in terms of distance it costs more to
drop me off first and him second. Everyone needs money these
days.”

“And you need to stay safe! I know you have
that strong voice and you can sing, but what you do isn’t stable. I
still think you should come work with me at the clothing
store.”

“But I know nothing about that trade.
Singing is my passion and what I’m best at.”

“Look at your father following his passion
and where did it get him, Hazel? Be sensible.”

Hazel shouted back. “My father wanted to be
in law enforcement as a child but ended up doing a dockworker’s job
because it was all that he could get for a normal career in his
life and position! After getting laid off, managing to be a private
investigator was the closest he got to his dreams. And he was
happier in that short time than I remember him the rest of his
life!”

“I just want what’s best for you,
Hazel.”

“Then leave me alone!”

Hazel ran to her room in tears, where she
pulled a chest of her father’s old things out of the closet.
Included inside were an old hat and trench coat that he had, one of
a couple. He’d died in the other one. Hazel refused to part with
these, and fortunately Aunt Luella remained just kind enough not to
throw them away if for no other reason than to keep peace with the
child.

Hazel gazed into the dirty, slightly cracked
oval wall mirror mounted in her room. Her Aunt Luella constantly
insisted that she be rid of the old thing, what with its tarnished
frame and the crack in the upper corner. Yet the mirror belonged to
Hazel’s mother before the young girl had been born, and her father
put it in Hazel’s room after his wife died. This treasured mirror
remained the only link Hazel had to the mother she’d never known.
Still, despite the connection to her sibling, Luella did not want
the item.

“It does you no good to cling to the past,
child,” Aunt Luella often insisted. “You need to be living for the
future.” Yet she didn’t quite dare take the mirror or the father’s
things from the young girl.

Hazel looked into the reflective surface and
saw a face far more resembling her father’s than any description
given to her of the woman that gave birth to her, yet with a softer
and more rounded feel. Most people said they saw her father looking
in her vast, gentle eyes. Every now and then Hazel wondered if her
father’s downfall came simply because at the heart of it all, the
center of the gumshoe squished with a heart of love. His big brawn,
built up by the years of factory work before his layoff, only
served as an exterior for a giant heart, one Hazel missed quite
often.

Hazel thought about a time not all that long
ago when she’d gotten into one of her father’s hat and trench coats
without asking. He’d found her in his bedroom playing detective and
demanded she return both items to him.

“Taking something without asking is just
like stealing,” he reminded Hazel. “Detectives don’t steal. They
find the bad men that did the stealing. Now take those off and put
them on the bed right now, young lady.”

With a sigh, Hazel did exactly as she’d been
asked, but not without a little complaining.

“But Daddy,” she pleaded to him. “I want to
beat the bad guys just like you.”

Hazel’s father knelt down slightly because
even with Hazel as a growing teen he stood head and shoulders above
her. He never liked towering over anyone and wanted to come to her
level.

“Now listen, Hazel,” she remembered him
telling her ever so softly. “You have a great life ahead of you,
Princess. A beautiful life. I’ve heard that voice of yours when you
sing in school. Oh, it’ll take you places, wait and see. Meanwhile
Daddy’s going to do everything in his power to protect you so all
those dreams can happen.”

“But who’s going to protect you?” Hazel
insisted. “I’m old enough, I can do it.”

“It’s a parent’s job to protect a child,
Princess. You have enough to worry about.”

Hazel hugged her father. “But I love you,
Daddy. I’m always afraid you won’t come back.”

Hazel’s father held her in a big bear hug
and stroked her hair. “Yes, sweetie I know. But you’ve got Aunt
Luella looking out for you. She’ll teach you all the things you
need to know to become a great and beautiful woman that I can’t.
Your mama would be proud of you, Princess, for being so
strong.”

Hazel’s father released his bear hug, and
then grabbed his hat and trench coat.

“Now I have somewhere I have to be, it’s
very important I don’t be late. Take care of yourself and your
Aunt, Princess.”

Looking back on that fateful day, Hazel
started to wonder if her father knew he’d never be coming back from
his rendezvous. His last words were to take care of Aunt Luella,
not that he’d be seeing her later as he always said before, a
discrepancy which haunted her to this day. The emphasis also proved
unusual in that her father generally did not speak of and felt
distant from Aunt Luella, and saw having to move in with her
rent-free in what used to be his father-in-law’s house as a
necessity of the times. Before the layoffs, the two of them lived
alone and her father just dropped Hazel over to be watched when he
worked the factory night shift; the opinions he expressed of the
Aunt back them didn’t serve to be very flattering.

Hazel realized that a new mystery revealed
itself. She now wanted to be certain whether or not her father left
knowing that he would die that night. Also, perhaps there might be
details about that night Aunt Luella knew but hid to protect her.
Yet an opportunity might never come to solve that.

The next morning, Hazel saw her Aunt Luella
off to work as usual. Not typical of her times, Luella ran the
clothing store once operated by her father before his death. Hazel
deduced that if the line of work wasn’t something such as clothing,
which often could be perceived as women’s work, her Aunt would have
been far less tolerated in a position of management. That said,
many pressured Luella to hire a male manager to work for her.
Luella countered, quite accurately, that she’d worked part-time
alongside her father for years and knew the customers and their
needs better than any outside management ever could. Additionally,
she’d made a bit of a mark as a local designer as well when some of
their domestic clothing resources for the shop turned to military
focused production during the War. Luella’s reputation kept the
shop alive and in turn provided much needed income for Luella to
raise Hazel.

After her Aunt left for the day, Hazel
grabbed a cab and headed back to her manager’s. After the
introspection of the prior night, she now knew she couldn’t finish
the job he’d asked of her. In all fairness, Hazel knew she needed
to return his money, but hadn’t quite figured out how to couch it,
so she’d opted for just putting the money in his mail slot with a
vague note.

However, Hazel never saw that plan
through.

“Hey lady, looks like there’s something
going on at that address you asked for,” the cabbie pointed out as
they approached the home of the manager. Police could be seen
outside, and out on the step an officer spoke to a woman that Hazel
vaguely recognized as Cora Gorton. They’d met a small handful of
times in passing at various social occasions, but never really
talked much before.

“I’ll still get out here,” Hazel said.

“If you say so,” the driver said. “But you
might have trouble getting a ride home.”

Hazel paid the driver, got out, and headed
over to the brownstone. A cop spotted her.

“Hey, miss. This here’s a crime scene. You
can’t stay here.”

“But I know Mrs. Gorton. I stopped by to see
her.”

“Mrs. Gorton is not in a position to speak
to anyone right now,” he responded.

“Who is looking for me?” Cora Gorton
interrupted. “I swore I heard my name.”

Hazel saw Cora Gorton right as she
remembered her. Self-centered, brash, and bold all summed up the
wife of Hazel’s stage manager. The two women were pretty close to
the same age. Hazel never quite understood why Franklin put up with
Cora, except perhaps for the money. Cora’s family oozed wealth even
in the leaner times, which made it possible for them to adopt Cora
as a baby and raise her to be their little heiress. They’d even
made sure to milk a ton of publicity out of it by showing how
they’d given a poor unwanted little girl a new lease on life. Never
mind she threw it away by eloping with a man who booked stage acts
for a living, but fortunately for her Cora’s adoptive parents would
rather endure the shame of a lower class husband than the shame of
publicly cutting off their little public relations piece.

“Hello Cora,” Hazel said. “I came looking to
see if Franklin might be around. Or is he out venue scouting?”

Cora burst into tears. “My Franklin is dead!
Someone came and shot him cold!” Then, with the cops still present,
Cora’s sadness turned to anger and she pointed directly at Hazel.
“This broad was one of the last to see my Franklin alive! He was at
her club performance last night and they came home in a cab. You
should see what she knows!”

One of the policemen pulled Hazel aside. “Is
that true, miss?”

Hazel nodded. “My name is Hazel Atwood. I
am, well I guess I was, one of Franklin Gorton’s acts that he
managed.”

“Can you give us some of your time?”

Hazel answered all the questions the police
had for her, and then an officer drove her back to her Aunt’s home,
letting her know there might be follow up contact for any further
questions.

Hazel worked on chores at home, tidying up
the house when the bell rang. She went to the door and discovered
the man who wanted an encore at the Swan Song stood at the front
door.

“Quick, let me in,” he requested.

“I’m sorry, but my Aunt’s not home yet. Can
I help you?”

“I’m not looking for her really. I am
actually seeking her niece, Hazel Atwood. Which I know is you, I
heard you singing at the Swan Song.”

“I can’t let you in. I don’t know you.”

“Ah, but you do know me from the club. I
called for the encore at the club to try and get your attention.
This is highly urgent. It concerns the death of your father.”

Hazel knew Luella would be very upset if she
just let a stranger in. Yet this man seemed bound and determined to
see her since last night and would only do so with privacy.

“All right then, quickly, come inside.”

The man entered and Hazel shut the door.

“Hurry, before people talk about me letting
in strange men when home alone.”

“All right then, I’ll be quick. I used to be
one of your father’s clients back when I owned a speakeasy, in
times when getting drink was hard. I was the person who hired your
father to find out why I no longer seemed to be getting the booze
I’d been paying handsomely to have smuggled to my establishment in
1931. Because of what happened to your father, I sobered up—pardon
the expression—and got out of the business.”

“Then why are you here now?” Hazel asked,
puzzled.

“Because I’m hearing rumors that the people
who were behind the booze running are trying to come back into town
in a big way, to try and run other illicit schemes. I don’t want to
see you or your Aunt made out to be targets because of your
connections to your father. So I wanted to warn you.”

“So you just expect us to run while you get
your revenge?”

The man shook his head in the negative. “No,
I’m just passing through to let you know. I need to try and stay
one step ahead of them before they find me. I owe your father a
great deal for trying to help, so I think it would be wrong of me
not to try to warn his family.” The man grabbed the door and opened
it. “I must go now, I need to be on the move. Stay safe, Hazel
Atwood.”

Before Hazel could ask more, the man
disappeared.

That night, Hazel tried explaining what
happened to Aunt Luella.

“The visitor that came, what did he tell
you?”

“He said that these people are the ones who
saw to it that my father was killed, and that they’re working their
way back on coming in to town. Even though booze running won’t make
them much, they’re looking into other ways to be profitable in the
city.”