The Perplexed Pumpkin (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 5) Read online

  The Perplexed Pumpkin

  A Nick Williams Mystery

  Book 5

  By Frank W. Butterfield

  Nick Williams Mysteries

  The Unexpected Heiress

  The Amorous Attorney

  The Sartorial Senator

  The Laconic Lumberjack

  The Perplexed Pumpkin

  The Savage Son

  The Mangled Mobster

  The Iniquitous Investigator

  The Voluptuous Vixen

  The Timid Traitor

  The Sodden Sailor

  The Excluded Exile

  The Paradoxical Parent

  The Pitiful Player

  Nick & Carter Stories

  An Enchanted Beginning

  Golden Gate Love Stories

  The One He Waited For

  Their Own Hidden Island

  © 2016 by Frank W. Butterfield. All rights reserved.

  No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express written permission of the copyright holder.

  This book contains explicit language and suggestive situations.

  This is a work of fiction that refers to historical figures, locales, and events, along with many completely fictional ones. The primary characters are utterly fictional and do not resemble anyone that I have ever met or known of.

  Be the first to know about new releases in the Nick Williams Mystery series:

  http://nickwilliamspi.com/

  NW05-K-20170919

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  More Information

  Perplexed

  pər-ˈplekst

  1. Filled with uncertainty

  Pumpkin

  ˈpəm(p)-kən

  1. A fruit of any of various cultivars of herbaceous plants of the gourd family that is typically round and orange but may be another color or shape, that has a hard usually smooth skin with shallow longitudinal grooves, and that is grown for ornamental use or for its fibrous pale flesh used especially in baking or as feed for livestock

  Chapter 1

  Offices of Consolidated Security

  777 Bush Street, 3rd Floor

  San Francisco, Cal.

  Friday, October 23, 1953

  Just before 10 in the morning

  "Nick! You and Carter have to throw a party for Halloween this year! It's on a Saturday, after all!"

  I looked over at Marnie, the best secretary a guy ever had, who was standing in the doorway to my office with a pout on her face.

  She was a no-nonsense kind of gal, so her pout had some meaning behind it. Usually, I would ignore her suggestions about my normally abysmal social life these days but, for some reason, she got my attention.

  "Why do you say that, doll?"

  "First off, you got all these swell guys working for you now, and they're lots of fun."

  I watched her face drop down.

  "Unlike some people we could name?"

  "Right."

  She was talking about my ex, one Jeffery Klein, Esquire. He was my ex-lover, my ex-attorney, and my ex-friend. He was also about to be married to a lovely woman, if the society pages were to be trusted. I wished them both well even though I knew it was bad news.

  "So, we got a great gang of guys, and that's why you want me to throw a party, is that it?"

  Robert popped his head around the corner and said, "Well, there's more to it than that, Nick."

  Robert was my whiz-bang real estate manager who was also an ex-employee of Jeffery's. I'd hired the kid out of pity for his situation, given that he'd been unceremoniously canned, but was over-the-moon happy with his quick mind and his ability to manage an ever-growing list of residential and commercial buildings. He was making me a fortune, and it was the easiest thing ever.

  "Does this have anything to do with Joe?" I asked.

  Robert blushed and smiled. So, the answer was yes.

  "He's come up with a terrific idea for decorating your house and has a whole list of Halloween games we can play. He has a couple of friends who'll make all the food. He'll even bring all the records to play on the hi-fi."

  Marnie piped up, "He's practically a host in himself."

  I smiled. Joe was a sweet kid in his 20s who Robert had met one night out on the town in early September. They had been inseparable ever since and, according to Marnie, were now living together in Robert's one-bedroom apartment in one of my buildings on Powell Street. I liked the kid and I liked seeing the two of them together. In fact, Carter, my tall, muscled, ex-fireman husband, had invited the two of them over for dinner on the previous Friday. We'd had a fun time. After we had eaten, we took a drive up to the top of Twin Peaks for some parking and necking. We'd dropped them off at a new hot spot on Polk Street before heading home ourselves. On Monday, Robert had reported to me that the two of them had painted the town red that night and the next night, as well, for that matter.

  Carter was standing in my office with his back against the wall watching all of this with increasing amusement. I looked at him and asked, "Well, Chief? Waddaya think?"

  "Sure. We'll have to invite Pam and Diane."

  I nodded. Pam and Diane were the "lady couple," as Carter called them, who lived next door. I added, "And Evelyn and her new gal."

  "Roberta," Carter prompted. Evelyn lived on the other side of Pam and Diane and had recently started going with the most voluptuous blonde I'd ever seen.

  "Roberta," I echoed. Carter smiled at me in his sweet, southern way.

  I looked over at Robert. "Go ahead, kid. Sounds like fun." He smiled at me and quickly disappeared out the door of the office.

  . . .

  That night, we stayed in and I cooked. As we were cleaning up, the phone rang. Carter walked over to the alcove and picked up the receiver while I continued to scrub out the remains of dinner.

  "Hello?"

  There was a brief pause.

  "Hi, Robert. How are you?"

  I dried off my hands and turned around to watch Carter.

  "Sure. Come on by."

  He looked over at me and shrugged.

  I shrugged back.

  "See you in a few minutes." I could hear the click as Carter put down the phone.

  "What was that?"

  "Robert and Joe are on their way over."

  I looked up at the clock near the stove. It was right at 7:30.

  "Why?"

  "Something about decorating for the party."

  I shook my head. "I should never have agreed to this."

  Carter walked towards me with a smile on his face.

  "Carter Jones. Not now."

  He pulled me in close and whispered in my ear. "I already have plans for us for tonight. I'll make sure they're gone soon."

  . . .

  As I shut the front door and turned off the porch light, I heard Carter say, "What the hell have you gotten us into?"

  I turned on my heel and replied, "Me? You were the one who said you were gonna get rid of them! It's almost midnight, for chrissakes!"

  Carter walked into the kitchen and turned off all the lights. I did the same in the sitting room.

  "I still have plans."

  "I hope they won't take too long." I was feeling inconvenienced, and I never like that feeling.

  "What are these kids up to?" I asked with some heat.

  Carter laughed.

 
; "What?" I asked.

  "Kids? You know that Joe is only six years younger than you."

  "I know. But, dammit, Carter. He makes me feel ancient. He's so goddam bubbly."

  Carter walked over and pulled me close. Kissing me sweetly on the cheek, he asked, "What is really bothering you?"

  I sighed and thought about it. "It feels like we're being played."

  "Over a Halloween party?"

  "I know. That's what's so damn frustrating. I'm sure it's nothing. But--"

  Carter put his finger on my lips. "Shh."

  I watched as he walked over to the hi-fi and put on a record. Soon, Jo Stafford was singing about autumn in New York, and we were swaying in the dim light from the upstairs landing. After about a minute of this, I completely forgot about the impending madness that was on the horizon.

  Once the record ended, Carter took my hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom and pushed me on the bed and that was that for the night.

  Chapter 2

  137 Hartford Street

  Saturday, October 24, 1953

  A little past 9 in the morning

  The doorbell rang as I was walking down the stairs. As I walked through the sitting room, I could hear Carter making noises down in the basement. It sounded like he was jumping rope.

  I opened the door to find Evelyn Key. Her head was covered in a turquoise scarf. She was wearing a coat over her dress. It was a chilly morning.

  "Good morning, Evelyn. How are you?" I stepped back to let her in.

  As she walked in, she pulled off her scarf to reveal a new haircut, which was shocking. She had cut off most of her hair, and she looked like a boy.

  "What do you think?" She asked me with a big smile.

  "It's short."

  "Yes. That's the point."

  "How so?"

  "I don't have to set my hair anymore."

  "That's, uh, great?" I didn't know anything about women and their hair.

  "It sure is. Gotta cuppa coffee?" We were still standing in the sitting room.

  I laughed. "Sure. Come on into the kitchen."

  "Where's the old ball and chain?"

  "He's skipping rope in the basement."

  We walked into the kitchen. I said, "Have a seat. I'll warm this up for you."

  I took down a box of matches and quickly lit the front burner of the stove. Putting the half-full percolator on the flame, I asked, "You hungry?"

  "No. I've been up since 6, had a big breakfast, and already ran a bunch of errands."

  I sat down at the table and asked, "So, what's up?"

  "Can't I just come by for a neighborly chat?"

  I cocked my head to the side. "How long have you lived here?"

  "Three years."

  "Have you ever just come by for a neighborly chat?" I was teasing Evelyn. I really liked her. She was smart and she didn't take guff from anyone.

  "Not that I can remember."

  "You're not really the neighborly type, are you?"

  "No, and neither are you."

  We both laughed. I didn't even know she was our neighbor until a few months earlier, several years after she'd moved into her house.

  I heard the percolator bubbling, so I stood up and grabbed a couple of coffee cups off the shelf. "How do you like it?"

  "Black."

  I handed her a cup, put a couple of spoons of sugar in mine, sat down again, and waited. In the silence, I could now hear Carter grunting.

  "What's he doing down there?" Evelyn asked as she took a sip of coffee.

  "He's lifting weights."

  "You ever do that?"

  "No ma'am. When we were in Georgia and were pretending to be lumberjacks, I got all the physical culture I'll ever want. He tried to convince me to try it out, but I never have."

  She looked at me over her cup and said, "I see."

  I smiled at her and said, "Is it girl trouble? If so, Diane would be a better neighbor to ask."

  "Nope." She hesitated. "Not really."

  I watched and waited. It's one of my best skills. A minute or so passed.

  "OK. You beat it out of me. It is girl trouble."

  I waited. Carter made a particularly loud grunt and then dropped something heavy on the basement floor. I heard his size 14s treading heavily on the wood steps as he came up to the kitchen.

  "Hi, Evelyn. Nice pixie cut. Looks cute on you."

  He walked around the table, covered in sweat, reached down, and gave me a kiss before walking over to the sink for a glass of water.

  "How's Roberta?" he asked between gulps.

  "Evelyn was just about to tell me about that."

  She sighed dramatically.

  Carter put the glass in the sink and said, "Wait five minutes while I--"

  "No," I said.

  "No?" Carter cocked an eyebrow at me.

  "No. Evelyn is on the brink of a breakthrough here. Sit down and let's hear it." I turned to Evelyn.

  She sighed again.

  "Well, it's like this."

  We waited. I could hear the second hand on the clock softly clicking as it moved from one mark to the next. Outside, I heard a car backfire.

  Finally, Carter asked, "What is it, Evelyn?"

  She took a deep breath. "I think Roberta is two-timing me with a guy." She burst into tears while I looked over at Carter whose face was wrinkled with concern.

  . . .

  "Start at the beginning." This was Carter. His voice was very quiet as he spoke.

  "Well," sniffed Evelyn. "It started about three weeks ago."

  "What started?" asked Carter. I looked over at him. This was something we'd talked about. Never ask the witness leading questions. Let them tell their own story. This was rule number one in my book. He winked at me.

  "When I first suspected." She took another tissue from the box that I'd brought to the table and softly blew her nose.

  "The phone would ring, and I would answer and whoever was calling would hang up. At first, I didn't think anything about it. But then, one night, Roberta answered the phone, and she just said, 'I'll call you later,' and hung up."

  "Are y'all living together now?" asked Carter.

  "Well, I guess so. She never goes home to her apartment anymore. Most of her clothes are at my house."

  I took a sip of my coffee and asked, "Is there anything else that's she's been doing that's suspicious?"

  "Well, she's been going out in the afternoon. She works the third shift at the shipyard." I was surprised. For some reason, I thought the Navy had laid off all the women they'd hired during the war.

  "What does she do?" I asked.

  "She's the secretary for the commander who oversees the overnight work down there."

  "So, she's not a riveter?" That was Carter.

  Evelyn smiled. "Not anymore. She was at the end of the war and then, when they fired all the women..." Evelyn paused and made a sour face. "Well, she managed to wiggle her way to a good job. She likes working overnight, so they hired her. She makes good pay since they get a bonus for third shift work."

  "What time is the third shift over there?" asked Carter.

  "She goes into work at 11 in the evening. She clocks out at 7 the next morning. Her week starts on Sunday night and ends on Friday morning. She gets up when I get home from work. We usually have dinner together." She smiled shyly. "Fool around a little bit. Then she takes a bath and gets ready for work. When she leaves, I go to bed. Works out well for us both."

  I nodded.

  Carter asked, "You said she's been going out in the afternoon?" I looked at him and winked back. He smiled.

  "Yes. There've been a few days when I've gotten home from work, and she wasn't there. When I ask her about it, she says she's been out shopping." She began to cry again. "But," she sobbed, "she never brings anything home with her."

  I watched Evelyn carefully. This side of her was surprising. She'd always seemed very cool and detached, almost unemotional. She had it bad.

  After the tears stopped, I aske
d, "How can we help?"

  Evelyn looked up, almost startled. "Oh! Well, I was hoping you, or one of your guys, could tail her. Isn't that what it's called?"

  I nodded. "You want us to find out where she's going in the afternoons?"

  Evelyn sniffed and nodded.

  I looked over at Carter whose face was wrinkled with concern again.

  I said, "You know, Evelyn. Tailing someone is pretty easy. So, I'm happy for one of the guys do it. But..." I reached my hand across the table and placed it gently on her wrist. She looked up at me with red, swollen eyes.

  "But, what?"

  "But, what happens when we have bad news for you? Have you thought about that?"

  Evelyn nodded.

  Carter asked, "What'll you do?"

  Evelyn's voice changed dramatically. "Throw her out on her goddam ass, that's what."

  I laughed. That was the Evelyn I knew.

  Chapter 3

  Offices of Consolidated Security

  Monday, October 26, 1953

  Just past 10 in the morning

  "You wanted to see me, Nick?"

  I looked up from a letter I was reading to see Andy Anderson standing in the doorway. He was medium height, medium build, and handsome in an unremarkable way.

  I nodded. "Come on in and have a seat."

  He did just that and sat down in one of the chairs across from me.

  "What can I do you for?"

  I smiled. "I know you're gonna think this is a little ridiculous, but I need you to tail someone for a few days."

  He laughed. "I love those kinds of jobs."

  "Really?" I asked.

  "Sure. Nothing more fun than fading into the background and watching people without them knowing about it. Dawson says I'm a voyeur."

  Andy had grown up with Carter back in Georgia. He'd been a special agent with the F.B.I. until recently. We'd first met up when he'd volunteered to keep track of me and make sure I made it to Washington, D.C., to testify before Senator McCarthy's sub-committee. A few days later, he'd quit the Bureau before they could fire him for being homosexual.

  Dawson Runson was his boyfriend. Dawson had been a D.C. Metro police lieutenant who quit when his captain had asked him to set up the kind of entrapment stings that targeted homosexuals.

  Dawson and Andy had met and fallen in love while we were all involved in the same case and it was grand. And now they both worked with us.