Like Coffee and Doughnuts. Elle Parker
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we should be careful when we take the car over there.”
“Think Ernie’s going to have trouble with him?” Seth asked.
“Maybe a little, but Ernie’s got insurance for that, and he knows a guy on the police force who’s usually willing to do a few extra drive-bys for anyone who’ll drink beer and watch football with him.”
“Can I drive it over there?”
“As long as you promise not to try to jump Ernie afterward. His wife is the jealous kind, and she could totally kick your ass.”
* * * *
We went outside to check on the Corvette, which was right where we’d left it, and I called Ernie to give him a report of the previous night’s work. He was thrilled to hear we’d gotten the ’Vette back and said he’d give his pal a call just to be on the safe side.
When I got off the phone, I found Seth already in it having some kind of religious experience. I rapped on the window. He rolled it down and I said, “Let’s do the inventory and condition report here and then take it over. That’ll be less time we have to hang out at Ernie’s while we do the others. I’d rather not be there if Serrano is gonna come and make trouble.”
Seth agreed and I went to my car to get the forms out of my briefcase. I gave him a clipboard and the Condition Report form, and took an Inventory Report for myself. I also carried a small cardboard box to collect whatever was inside.
While I got in and started to go through the glove compartment, Seth moved around the car making note of any damage or modifications. I noted the usual stuff, owner’s manual, tire gauge, registration, spare fuses. Serrano also had a Florida map, Miami map, two Snickers bars and a bunch of matchbooks from a place called The Shark Pond in South Beach. There was a cheap paperback fuck book wedged between the passenger seat and the console, and a silver lighter on the dash.
“Hey,” said Seth, poking his face in the window. “What’s the odometer reading?”
I peered at it and read the numbers off.
“Thanks.”
In the interest of being thorough, I climbed out of the car so I could check underneath the seats. There was nothing under the passenger seat, but under the driver’s seat I found a small padded envelope, folded in half and wrapped with rubber bands.
“What the fuck is that?” Seth asked when I stood up, turning it over in my hands.
“I have no idea,” I said. It was dirty, presumably from riding around on the floor of the car, and contained something fairly bulky.
I pulled off the rubber bands and unfolded it. There was a return address label from one of those mail order porn places, and a mailing label that was addressed to Serrano, but had a Miami address.
Seth said, “Oh-ho, have we found Serrano’s sex toy stash? My money’s on leopard print lovecuffs, what do you think?”
“Lovecuffs?” I asked, casting a sidelong glance at him.
He shrugged. “I read the catalogs. There’s all kinds of crazy shit in there.”
“Yeah, ’cause you need that.”
“Just biding my time, baby...”
I lifted the envelope flap and looked inside. What I saw was curious in how unremarkable it was.
“Well?” prodded Seth, trying to see for himself.
I tipped the contents into my hand. There was a small notebook, also wrapped with a rubber band, a key card, and a set of keys. Just two keys on a plain ring with a green rubber fob advertising Chico’s Car Wash. One was a car key, and the other a small gold one.
“Well...that’s interesting,” Seth said, picking up the keys and examining them.
I tucked the envelope under my arm and looked at the notebook. There wasn’t anything special about it I could see. I took the rubber band off and started to flip through it with Seth looking over my shoulder. Most of the pages were blank, but a few had notes on them, and several pages had lists of numbers written in groups.
“What the fuck?” Seth muttered. “Obviously this stuff means something or he wouldn’t have stashed it under the seat like that.”
“Yeah, but what?” I mused on it for a few minutes, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Most of the information looked like it might be in code, which certainly piqued my curiosity.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Seth said, “these keys aren’t for the ’Vette. This one’s new, and it fits a BMW.”
“I wonder where that car is then.”
“Good question.”
“Listen,” I said, ignoring the protest my conscience was making. “Let’s not list this on the inventory, all right? I’d like to have a closer look at it. We can always drop it off with Ernie later, say it fell out of the box on the way over or whatever.”
“You smelling a mystery here, Nero Wolfe?” Seth joked, elbowing me in the ribs.
“I’m not Wolfe,” I said. “I’m Archie Goodwin.”
“Well I’m sure as hell not Wolfe.” Seth looked horrified.
“No, you’re Fred Durkin.”
“Who the fuck is Fred Durkin?”
I rolled my eyes. “You need to read more.”
“So who is he? Is he hot like me?”
“Yes. He’s hot like you.”
“You’re doing that thing with sarcasm again, aren’t you?”
I smirked and wrapped up the notebook and keys the way we’d found them. Yeah, I know—keeping it was very unprofessional, not to mention stupid, but I was curious as all hell, and I was itching for something a little more intriguing than skip tracing and tracking cheaters.
* * * *
Later at Ernie’s, I had already completely inventoried the Caprice, and done the Condition Report before Seth finally rolled in with the hotwired Corvette. It’s a damn fine thing Ernie is a good sport. When Seth still hadn’t shown up fifteen minutes after I arrived, and Ernie was looking a little concerned, I told him I thought Seth might be taking the ’Vette for a test drive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ernie laugh so hard.
When Seth did show up, he pulled up next to us and climbed out, giving me a wicked leer and a shit-eating grin. I was shocked to realize I knew damn well he had a hard-on. Ernie tried to give him a sales pitch on the car.
“Seth!” I yelled. “We have three more to do, and a pile of paperwork for this. Get your ass in gear.”
Seth flipped me off. “Hey, Ernie,” he said, “have you read the Nero Wolfe books?”
“Sure,” Ernie said, nodding. “Those are pretty good reads.”
“Who is Fred Durkin?”
I steered Seth away and shoved him in the direction of the three vehicles we had left to do. Behind us, Ernie yawned and trudged into his office. He’d been dragging all morning, and I wondered what was up. Ernie is usually a pretty perky guy.
Twenty minutes was all it took for us to get done. I tucked the paperwork into my briefcase and went to tell Ernie we’d have the finished reports for him as soon as possible.
“Thanks,” he said choking back another yawn. “Sandra will have your check ready, and you can come get it anytime you want, unless you’d rather have her just mail it.”
“Great. I’ll come and get it, I don’t trust the mail at the new place yet. What’s up with you, don’t you sleep at night?”
“Nothing serious. The alarm went off in the wee hours of the morning, that’s