S Is for Silence

didn’t want to listen, but I knew it was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. U.S. involvement was a given. Any fool could see that—except him, of course. I knew when the time came, rationing would be inevitable, and we couldn’t afford to be caught short. He argued the point, but I knew I was right and I never let up. My instincts were dead on. Once the war started, there wasn’t another dealer in the area who’d had the same foresight. Guys were coming out of the woodwork, begging for gasoline, begging for tires, which was music to my ears. I told ’em I was happy to be of help as long as sufficient cash changed hands. The point was delivering product and service to the customer, and if Chet Cramer could make a buck in the process, then what’s wrong with that? Blickenstaff didn’t have the stomach for it. He lost a son in the war and he thought it was morally reprehensible—that was the phrase he used, ‘morally reprehensible’—to profit when all those boys had sacrificed their lives. In truth, he was tired and it was time he stepped aside.”
    “You bought the dealership from him?”
    “No ma’am. I bought the Chevrolet franchise and drove that old geezer into the ground: 1945 he closed his doors and I picked up his dealership for pennies on the dollar. May sound cold, but it’s a simple fact of life: You can’t accomplish anything unless you’re willing to act. Make a plan. Take a risk. That’s how you get what you want.”
    “What about your brothers? Did any of them come into the business with you?”
    “This is mine. I don’t share. I did enough for them and now they’re on their own.” He shifted in his chair, leaning forward on his desk. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about me. You want to know about Violet Sullivan.”
    “I do, but I’m also curious about the car. Can we start with that?”
    He made a dismissive gesture. “Foley had no business buying that car. He ought to’ve been ashamed of himself. The Sullivans didn’t have a pot to piss in—I hope you’ll forgive the language.”
    “Doesn’t bother me,” I said.
    “Violet got it in her head she had to have that car, and Foley knew better than to stand in her way. I wasn’t about to turn away a sale, so I cut him a deal.”
    “Which was what?”
    “I took his truck in trade, for whatever that was worth. Purely a courtesy on my part, but I made one thing clear: The first time he missed a payment, I’d repossess. No excuses, no slow pays, and not one penny short. I didn’t care what the law said, that car was coming back.”
    “Given his history, you were taking quite a chance.”
    “Oh, I never thought he’d do it. I fully expected to have the car on the lot again within three months and then I’d take it for myself.”
    “I thought Winston Smith made the sale.”
    “He’s the one Violet dealt with up front. He was a pip-squeak, all of twenty years old. Woman like Violet, she’s always going to find a way to get what she wants. She comes waltzing in here when I’m off the lot and she starts working on him. I’d’ve put a stop to it if I’d seen what was going on. First thing you know she talks him into letting her take that Bel Air on a test drive—alone. I’m serious. Without him in the car. He never should have agreed, but he’s so busy trying to impress her, he doesn’t know what hit him. When she finally shows up again, she’s put two hundred and fifty-seven miles on a brand-new car. I fired him on the spot and then called Foley and told him to get his butt in. He finally came around Friday morning and I completed the deal—approved the loan and handled all the paperwork.”
    “I still don’t understand why you sold it to him. From what I’ve heard, his finances were a mess.”
    “I have no use for Foley; man doesn’t have a brain in his head. I felt sorry for Violet. I thought she deserved something nice for putting up with him, fool that she was.”
    “What was in it for you?”
    His smile was sheepish. “Hey, even an old dog like me can do a good turn now and then. Everybody thinks I’m a hard-ass, but I can be generous when it suits. Of course that might’ve been the last time I ever did a good deed. When that car went missing, I was sick to death. Foley did pay it off. I have to give him that.”
    “So you weren’t out anything?”
    “Not one red cent.”
    “Violet didn’t tell you how she managed to put two hundred and fifty-seven miles on the