Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

the backbone of the armed forces. Enlisting in the army to protect your country.”
    I stared at him. Who was this man, and where did they take the lieutenant? It couldn’t have been Captain Woods’s little lecture about making the unanointed public welcome, I was sure of that.
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “I suppose it’s natural you want to relive old times, talk them over.”
    “Yes, Lieutenant, that’s it—”

    50

    CATT FORD

    “But not on our time or in our house! That’s not what we pay you for!” Steele roared suddenly.
    I could see Reggie squint as the decibels pinned his ears back, and I wouldn’t want to swear to it that my rear end didn’t lift off my chair for a moment in the blast.
    Steele jerked a thumb toward the open door. “Get the hell out of here! Both of you! And Harding, if I see your tame snooper nosing around here again, I’ll—”
    Reggie yanked me up out of the chair and pushed me into the hallway ahead of him. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir!” I dragged my feet, but he strong-armed me to the lobby. “What’d he have for breakfast?”
    “Probably a box of ammunition and a couple of grenades,” Reggie muttered.
    “That would account for his explosive personality.”
    “Beat it! I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
    “But you haven’t shown me—”
    “The diner. I’ll meet you there after I get off duty. Around five-thirty.”
    With that, he opened one of the glass doors at the front and shoved me through and damn near down the stairs, except that since I mustered out I kept fit. Sit-ups and push-ups in the office every morning and a run at night.
    So there I was, with no evidence to deduce anything from and no one answering any questions. It was a bit too soon to assume that Charlie would have anything for me. I could have tracked down Mr.
    Phil Martin, but I had a feeling it was better for my health to stay far away from that man.
    And I was still walking around with a big stack of bills in my pocket. At least I couldn’t be arrested for having no visible means of support, but I’d feel awfully stupid if I lost it. I headed for the bank.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    51

    I enjoyed the feeling of peeling a bunch of Cs off my bundle before I deposited it. The state of my bank balance was a whole lot healthier than my state of mind when I left, as in no longer at zero.
    Reggie had asked me to lay off his boyfriend, or at least his crush, and the deal was that I got to see the photos. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t deliver, but it opened a window of opportunity for me. Time to take a look at Jazz Morgan. I headed for a phone booth to consult the book.

    HE LIVED on the north side in the Negro section, of course, on Jefferson, past the open sports field, the cemetery, and the high school.
    It was nice enough there. The houses might be small, but you could see they cared about their neighborhood. It was well kept.
    There was no Jazz or J Morgan listed in the book, but there were five Morgans of various names and initials, so I took them one at a time. Where I went, I knocked, but no one answered, despite the fact that I saw the curtains twitch at the second place. But I could understand that. A white guy standing on your doorstep in blacktown could only mean trouble.
    It surprised me to find that Jazz Morgan owned a house instead of living in a rented room somewhere. Maybe tickling the ivories paid better than I suspected, or maybe it had more to do with who he worked for. It was a small house, a Spanish-style bungalow, and when I rang the bell, there was no answer. Of course, I didn’t know for sure it was his yet.
    “He’s not at home,” I heard a woman’s voice say.
    I turned around to take a look. The woman who was peering at me from over the porch railing next door might have been Lily McIntyre’s age, but she’d lived a much harder life. Not that she was ugly. Her lined face was beautiful and kind, but her hair was grey, and her clothing was plain. She wore sensible shoes, something I couldn’t imagine Lily doing no matter how much her feet hurt.

    52

    CATT FORD

    “Do you know where I could find him?” I came closer to her porch. She didn’t get up. I liked that.
    “That would depend on who was looking for him,” she said. “You don’t often see a white man in blacktown. Unless you’re a cop.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
    I grinned, thinking of Lieutenant Steele having a nice little fit of apoplexy if