The Case of the Carroltons’ Cartier - Part 2

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I’m doing something a tad different for this one. I’m going to do a serialized noir story. If you read my stuff on the regular, you may recognize Jack Lumley from an earlier tale. I hope this turns out to be worthwhile for all concerned.

Like any good citizen, my first step was to go to the cops. I rolled up on the new Police Administration Building on Los Angeles Street and walked in, stopping for a moment to shake my head the giant white stone wall offset by a few sad looking palm trees. There was probably some kind of metaphor about the way this building looked that I could come up with if I were a smarter man. To me, it was just ugly. That’s probably why I never went to architect school.

I walked through the shiny new lobby and took an elevator up to the robbery division. Chick Carter was a detective in the division. He had the kind of looks that would have let him be a movie star if he’d wanted to sell his soul. But, Chick was too on the level for that. I could always count on him to play fair with me, even if he sometimes kept his trap shut. He was as professional and honest as they come, which is probably why he’d never gotten more than a lieutenant in front of his name.

Chick had a desk in the middle of the bullpen. No one stopped me as I walked in. If I’d sashayed into homicide, I’d have probably gotten stopped, but no one seemed too concerned about random Joes wandering around robbery office.

I spotted him pouring over some papers at his desk. “Chick, looks like you’re doing homework. Did you upset the teacher?”

Chick looked up at me and grinned. “Lumley, good to see you. Have a seat,” he said unnecessarily pointing at the chair in front of his desk. “What brings you down to our new palace of justice?”

I decided to spare Chick any gratuitous banter or obfuscation. “I’m working an insurance job. The Carrolton family has made a sizable claim on a stolen necklace.”

“Yeah, I caught that one,” Chick said, waiving the papers he’d been reviewing in his hands.

“Got anything?”

Chick shook his head. “Not yet. Looks like whoever did it knew exactly what they were looking for and where it was. House full of stuff, and the only thing they hit was the one safe.”

“You think the thief had the combination?” I asked.

“Probably, but a good cracker might have been able to pull it off depending on how much time he had.”

“Any leads?”

“No,” Chick said. “Not yet. We questioned the staff and family, but everyone gave us one alibi or another.”

“Did you search the house?”

“No,” Chick said. “Mr. Carrolton asked us not to.”

“Seems odd,” I said.

“He said he was too busy to have a bunch of strangers tromping around his house.”

“Any chance he…”

Chick held up a hand. “I don’t see it. Insurance scam? Is that what you’re getting at. The Carroltons are worth a fortune. They could buy half this city if they felt inclined to. I know it’s a big claim as far as that goes, but it wouldn’t make sense for Sidney Carrolton to risk it for an insurance pay out.”

I nodded. “You got anything else, Chick.”

“Nah. But If I hear anything, I’ll give you a shout. I’d appreciate it if you returned the favor.”

I agreed and walked out. I got on the elevator, and on the next floor, a familiar face got on. “Well, look who we have here,” homicide detective G.K. Driscoll said, smiling at me. “What brings you down to our humble digs? Hoping to crack a missing pet kitty cat case to collect the reward?”

Driscoll and I had crossed paths many times over the years. He’d been there when I popped that studio VP who tried to frame yours truly for murder.

“Hey, it’s an honest living, Driscoll. We can’t all get those cushy taxpayer funded jobs.”

“I’d probably earn more looking for cats. What are you working?”

The elevator stopped and we kept jawing as we crossed the lobby.

“A missing necklace. Insurance job. What you got cooking?”

“Nothing much today, Lumley. Heading over to the Palisades. Some screenwriter got himself killed last night.”

“Anybody I know?” I asked.

“I told you, it was a screenwriter.”

“So no?”

“This was more of the struggling screenwriter type from what I hear. It’s good seeing you, Lumley, keep your nose clean.”

“Mama taught me to wash my face twice a day, Detective.”

“Smart lady,” Driscoll said as he peeled away from me to head out a side door.

My visit with the forces of law didn’t give me much to work with. So, to balance things out I decided to check with some connections on the less righteous side of the spectrum. You want to keep things in balance, after all.

Top Dollar Pawn was not too far away from the Police Administration Building. Considering all the shady deals that went down there, you’d think the shops owner, Henry Nance, would want to locate. But, I guess Nance knew what he was doing. He’d never been arrested, but that’s probably because he knew when it was in his best interest to talk.

I approached the familiar three brass balls over the shop door. Someone once told me the symbol dates back to the Medici family in Italy. Maybe Da Vinci used them to pawn a few rings when he needed more art supplies to finish up the Mona Lisa. I hope he got the rings back.

A tinkling bell announced my entrance into the shop. Nance, a short older man with the fashion sense that predated WWI looked up at me.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite shamus,” Nance said.

“I bet you say that to all the girls, Nance.”

“Jealous?”

“Listen, Nance, I’m hoping you can help me out. I’m working a stolen necklace case, and I suspect someone’s going to be trying to unload it quick.”

“So, it’s hot?”

“Red hot,” I said. “Rich family reported it missing and I’m just trying to help get it back for them.”

“Or find it so some insurance outfit doesn’t have to pay a claim.”

“It can be both,” I said with smirk.

“I haven’t seen anything like that come through,” Nance said.

“The necklace has several diamonds in it. Ten carats total. Someone may try to sell the pieces individually. Any chance you can check around on that for me,” I said. “There’s a finder’s fee.”

“I don’t need to make any calls. Give me a taste of that fee and I can set you on the right track.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Lumley.”

“It’s a down payment. You know the drill. When I get paid for the job, I’ll throw some your way if this pans out. Besides, like I said, this one’s hot. I can’t imagine LAPD is going to look the other way on anyone trying to traffic in these rocks.”

Nance took the money.

“Okay, I had a wild-haired guy come in about an hour ago. He had this,” Nance said, reaching below the counter and pulling up a diamond big enough to choke a puma.

“How much did you give him for it?”

“Enough for the guy. Not enough to be fair.”

“What about the rest of the diamonds?” I asked.

“He told me he didn’t have them yet, but said he’d be back with the rest of them when he did.”

“Did he say when he’d be back?”

Nance shook his head.

“You mentioned the guy had wild hair. What do you mean?”

“It was long and unkempt. Guy had a beard but no mustache. Wore all black. I think he was trying to look like one of those beats, but he seemed too old for that foolishness.”

“How old?”

“Maybe late 30’s, early 40’s.”

“If he comes back in, you’ll call me?”

“You know what helping you is costing me?”

“I’ll make sure you get your money back on this.”

“What about my potential profit?” Nance asked.

“You couldn’t spend that profit in the joint.”

“You know, Lumley, you may not be may favorite shamus after all.”

“Breaking my heart, Nance.”

“I’ll call you if anything turns up.”

I headed out and grabbed a bite at a greasy spoon diner. Nothing was really gelling with me yet. But, I had more threads to follow. School would be letting out soon, and I could follow up with Cynthia Carrolton’s pals then. Either they’d sew up her alibi and let me close off that path. Or it would open up a can of worms. Either way, it could prove worthwhile.

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