they didn’t even try to make them sound half true. When I asked why Annie left, they told me she didn’t want
to be part of our family anymore. When I asked my father where he’d been all weekend, he told me he was working, and when I asked my mother why I didn’t play piano at her parties
anymore, she said I was getting too old for that sort of thing.
If there’s one good thing about having your questions tossed off with silly explanations, it’s that you get good at noticing when things don’t make sense, and good at filling
in the blanks for yourself.
I was sure it was only a matter of time before they came to my room, ready to fill my head with well-rehearsed lies. I sat on my bed and waited for it, but when the knock on my door came, they
were dressed in their evening clothes and on their way to Ciro’s for cocktail hour and dinner. My mother kissed the air near my cheek so as not to smudge her lipstick, and my father told me
to be a good girl and not to stay up too late. Neither of them said a word about Jerry Shaffer and the so-called burglary as they breezed out of the house in a cloud of perfume and cognac.
As soon as they were gone, I got out the phone book and paged through the listings for private investigators until I found Jerry Shaffer, and dialed DUnkirk 4-2390. The phone rang about ten
times before he answered, sounding out of breath.
“It’s me,” I said.
“Thought I’d be hearing from you, kid. Now’s not a good time.”
“What were you doing at my house?”
“Alice, I’m on my way out. I’ll explain later.”
“No,” I said.
“What happened to those nice manners?” he said with a chuckle.
I wasn’t in a joking mood. “I thought you said my father was a piece of work. Why are you working for him?”
“I said we’ll talk about it later.”
“You can help him or you can help Annie. Which is it?”
There was a long pause, then a sigh.
“I came to your father very highly recommended by the head of security at Insignia Pictures, who happens to be a good friend of mine. Let’s just say that for five bucks, it was no
skin off his nose to tell your father that he was putting his best man on the case.”
“He just turned everything over to you like that?” I asked, a little shocked. “You could have been anybody.”
“Film people get hysterical over the littlest things, and they’re paranoid about police, too. They get a nasty letter, or somebody looks at them funny at the stoplight, and they go
to pieces. If a big star like Ava Gardner makes that phone call, you’d better believe they send out the cavalry, but for a small fish like your father? And for a break-in where nothing was
actually stolen?”
“They send you.”
“That’s right. As far as my buddy knew, business was slow and I needed the work. And may I remind you that all of this is your fault anyway?”
“I told you I got the matchbook from my father’s desk,” I said.
“You didn’t tell me you tore the place apart. No more stunts, Alice.”
“Okay,” I said, realizing that my adventure with Ruth and Rex earlier today probably qualified as exactly the kind of stunt Jerry was talking about.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital tomorrow, Alice, and I’ll tell you everything then—I promise. But in the meantime, remember I’m on your side. And
Annie’s.”
He hung up on me, and I stood there feeling more confused than ever, and very far away from the truth of things. Jerry hadn’t told me the whole story, true, but he’d admitted as
much. I certainly hadn’t told him how I’d spent my afternoon, and wasn’t sure if I was going to. If he really was on Annie’s and my side, it would only make him worry. And
if he wasn’t—well, that possibility was never very far from my thoughts.
Then I thought back to the day before and the strip of paper he’d placed in my hand at the hospital. At first, I hadn’t understood. It was just a long vertical row of letters,
written in a
to be part of our family anymore. When I asked my father where he’d been all weekend, he told me he was working, and when I asked my mother why I didn’t play piano at her parties
anymore, she said I was getting too old for that sort of thing.
If there’s one good thing about having your questions tossed off with silly explanations, it’s that you get good at noticing when things don’t make sense, and good at filling
in the blanks for yourself.
I was sure it was only a matter of time before they came to my room, ready to fill my head with well-rehearsed lies. I sat on my bed and waited for it, but when the knock on my door came, they
were dressed in their evening clothes and on their way to Ciro’s for cocktail hour and dinner. My mother kissed the air near my cheek so as not to smudge her lipstick, and my father told me
to be a good girl and not to stay up too late. Neither of them said a word about Jerry Shaffer and the so-called burglary as they breezed out of the house in a cloud of perfume and cognac.
As soon as they were gone, I got out the phone book and paged through the listings for private investigators until I found Jerry Shaffer, and dialed DUnkirk 4-2390. The phone rang about ten
times before he answered, sounding out of breath.
“It’s me,” I said.
“Thought I’d be hearing from you, kid. Now’s not a good time.”
“What were you doing at my house?”
“Alice, I’m on my way out. I’ll explain later.”
“No,” I said.
“What happened to those nice manners?” he said with a chuckle.
I wasn’t in a joking mood. “I thought you said my father was a piece of work. Why are you working for him?”
“I said we’ll talk about it later.”
“You can help him or you can help Annie. Which is it?”
There was a long pause, then a sigh.
“I came to your father very highly recommended by the head of security at Insignia Pictures, who happens to be a good friend of mine. Let’s just say that for five bucks, it was no
skin off his nose to tell your father that he was putting his best man on the case.”
“He just turned everything over to you like that?” I asked, a little shocked. “You could have been anybody.”
“Film people get hysterical over the littlest things, and they’re paranoid about police, too. They get a nasty letter, or somebody looks at them funny at the stoplight, and they go
to pieces. If a big star like Ava Gardner makes that phone call, you’d better believe they send out the cavalry, but for a small fish like your father? And for a break-in where nothing was
actually stolen?”
“They send you.”
“That’s right. As far as my buddy knew, business was slow and I needed the work. And may I remind you that all of this is your fault anyway?”
“I told you I got the matchbook from my father’s desk,” I said.
“You didn’t tell me you tore the place apart. No more stunts, Alice.”
“Okay,” I said, realizing that my adventure with Ruth and Rex earlier today probably qualified as exactly the kind of stunt Jerry was talking about.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital tomorrow, Alice, and I’ll tell you everything then—I promise. But in the meantime, remember I’m on your side. And
Annie’s.”
He hung up on me, and I stood there feeling more confused than ever, and very far away from the truth of things. Jerry hadn’t told me the whole story, true, but he’d admitted as
much. I certainly hadn’t told him how I’d spent my afternoon, and wasn’t sure if I was going to. If he really was on Annie’s and my side, it would only make him worry. And
if he wasn’t—well, that possibility was never very far from my thoughts.
Then I thought back to the day before and the strip of paper he’d placed in my hand at the hospital. At first, I hadn’t understood. It was just a long vertical row of letters,
written in a
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