La Danza Morte' by Robert F. Clifton (ereader android txt) 📕
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- Author: Robert F. Clifton
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“I can't say. You have goals in life. So do I. You've told me that you hope to make Captain one day. I hope someday to dance in the Moscow Ballet Company. After that, who knows?”
“That might mean ten or twelve years.”
“We're both young. We have time to wait. Speaking of time, we're wasting it. Hold me Robert, hold me.”
The next morning Wallace drove to the Convention Center and after a quick kiss watched Natasha walk inside where she would rehearse for the major part of the day. He put the car in drive and headed for his office. When he got there he sat down with Stiles and the two of them had their traditional morning coffee and doughnut.
“They didn't have lemon this morning. I got you a jelly doughnut,” said Stiles.
“It's not the same, but it will do. Anything new?”,asked Wallace.
“C.S.I. delivered an envelope. I put it on your desk.”
“It can wait,” Wallace replied.
“Are you going to any Eagles games this year?” asked Stiles.
“No, I don't see an improvement. Ed Kyayat was a great player, but so far not so good as a coach. It could be that he doesn’t have the players. I'll watch them on T.V..”
Wallace took a mouthful of the last dregs of coffee in the Styrofoam cup, wadded up the plastic wrap the he had held in order to eat the doughnut, then tossed them both into the wastepaper basket next to his desk. Once he got comfortable in his chair he reached for the manila envelope that Stiles had put on his desk top and read, noticing that it was from the F.B.I.
After opening the envelope he removed two sheets of paper and began to read the print. “Well, well, well,” he said.
“What do you have?”, asked Stiles.
“The report on the fingerprints we lifted from the pill container.”
“And?”
“What they say is and I'll read it to you, “The prints submitted by your agency, those being a left thumb print found on one side of a pill container along with a print left by the left index finger on one side of a pill container were found to be consistent and clear. Also the latent print identified as the right thumb found on the pill box lid contained enough loops and whirls to identify the subject. Said fingerprints match those of one, Lester Cummings, Chicago, Illinois arrested May 15, 1970. Charge Assault and Battery.”
Chapter Nine
Chicago
A beam of sunlight filtered through the Venetian blinds hung in the bedroom window. The light touched Robert's face gently waking him. After opening his eyes he blinked then turned his head and looked at Natasha asleep next to him. He moved slowly not wanting to wake her. To him he thought that she needed her rest. He had watched her exert a lot of energy in her dance routines last night. Reaching for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter he placed a cigarette between his lips, lit it, inhaled, exhaled and fought not to cough with his first drag in the morning. As he looked at her he thought, “I wonder what she will want to do today? Hopefully she'll just want to stay here and rest. Tomorrow it's back to the grind for both of us. Me at headquarters, her at rehearsal.” his thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on the bedroom door. “Yes?” he said. The sound of his voice making Natasha stir.
“Robert? Can you tell me what you and the young lady would like for breakfast?,” asked Esmeralda.
Natasha opened her eyes and after a few seconds she smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”
“Well hello. Esmeralda would like to know what you would like for breakfast,” said Wallace.
“Toast and coffee is fine with me”, she said in an sleepy, almost whisper.
“She'll have toast and coffee. You can give me the same, but with a couple of scrambled eggs and orange juice. Do you want orange juice?” he asked Natasha who nodded her head. “Make that two orange juice”, said Robert. Then he turned his attention back to her. To him she was beautiful. When she danced false eyelashes, eyeliner and mascara highlighted her eyes. She had told him that highlighting the eyes was necessary in order for those in the back of the audience to be able to see the eyes of the dancers who were under the bright stage lights. He also noticed that the male dancers wore makeup. Now, she lay next to him with just her natural appearance. Dark eyes looked up at him. The pixie hair style in place even though she had turned over several times during the night in her sleep. As she watched him she saw the sudden change of expression on his face, a sad look.
“What's wrong?,” she asked.
“Nothing, except in a few more days, you'll be gone.”
“Please Robert, don't start that again.”
“Hey, I'm sorry for wanting you to stay.”Natasha slid out of the bed and walked into the bedroom. When she did Wallace snubbed the cigarette butt in the ashtray got up and put on a pair of walking shorts and a polo shirt. Dressed, he walked barefoot into the kitchen. “Good morning Esmeralda. How's the family?”, he asked.
“Just fine Robert. Do you want your coffee now, or you waiting for Natasha?”
“You know me and coffee. Now isn't soon enough.”
“You got any laundry for me to do today?, Esmeralda asked.
“I have some, but it can wait if you want to put it off.”
“No sense puttin off what I can do today. Sides, it's Sunday. Laundry room practically empty of Sundays. How about Natasha she got things needing washing?”
“I don't know you'll have to ask her.”
“Ask me what?” said Natasha as she walked into the kitchen.
“I was just asking Robert if you had any laundry that needed doin”, Esmeralda replied.
“Thank you no. What little I do have Margaret can do for me, but I appreciate your offer.”
“Alright, now you ready to eat girl?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Itty bitty thing like you got to eat. It's a wonder you can dance, twirl, and leap, little and as thin as you be. How bout I fix you some real food? Toast and coffee ain't much if you ask me.”, said Esmeralda.
Natasha laughed. “Thank you, but that's what I'm use to having in the morning”, she replied.
“Suit yourself. While you two eat breakfast I'll gather up your dirty clothes. Robert? You put everything in the hamper?”
“Don't I always?, he asked.
“No. Most the time I find things in the bed, under the bed, on the nightstand or hanging on the side of the bathtub,”
Esmeralda answered.
Natasha grinned. “So the truth comes out, when I'm not here, you're a slob,” she said.
“But, notice how you've changed me. Now, I'm a neat freak,” Wallace replied.
“Honey? You tell that neat freak sittin there lying to you that I can't find one black sock. That's how neat he be. Can't even keep his socks together,” Esmeralda called from the bedroom.
“Seems to me that Esmeralda knows you very well,” said Natasha.
“She cooks, cleans, does the laundry and changes the linen. It's like having a wife, but with no sex,” Robert replied.
“Good thing for you too, ain't no way you could keep up with me”, said Esmeralda as she walked to the front door carrying the dirty laundry.
After finishing his eggs Wallace got up from the table and poured himself another cup of coffee. Then he stood looking at her with the coffee cup in his hand.
“What now?”, she asked.
“Nothing. Do you want to have your coffee in the den?”
“Sure, lead the way.”
After entering the den Natasha placed her cup of coffee on a coaster she had placed on the end table, then sat on the couch, tucking her bare legs under her. Looking at Robert she said, “Well, I know there's something you want to talk about.”
“Not really. I would like to know where you will be staying while the show is in Pittsburgh.”
“I really don't know. Viktor always selects the place that offers him the best deal. The hotel has to accommodate not only the dance troupe, but also the orchestra.”
“Where will the show play?”
“The Pittsburgh Ballet Theater. It's on Liberty Avenue, I believe. Why? Are you planning to come to Pittsburgh?”
“You never know. So, you know the street.”
“I danced there before becoming Gabriela's understudy. I was one of several girls in Geisle. Viktor was pleased with me and Gabriela approved and the rest you know. Here I am.”
“How does Viktor manage to get everything he needs from city to city?”
“You must mean the stage settings. I understand that he has a warehouse somewhere in New York where he keeps those stored. Now in the case of the show here, Sleeping Beauty, he'll ship everything to Pittsburgh by truck. When we head for Buffalo another truck will haul the sets for the Nutcracker.”
“Reminds one of a traveling circus.”
“Sometimes it seems like it is,” said Natasha as she got up off of the couch. She walked to the glass paneled door that led out onto the balcony and looked out at the slow, moving surf. “The ocean appears gray and cold this morning”, she said.
“It's gray because the water reflects the color of the sky. This morning it's overcast. It looks cold because it's autumn. The water is cold,” Wallace explained.
“I'll miss seeing the ocean, “she said, sadly.”
“Not as much as I'll miss you”, he replied.
“You'll get over it,” she responded.
“I noticed that you said that you'll miss the ocean, you didn't mention missing me.”
“Of course I will. Both of us will think of each other from time to time, but our work and our careers should ease the situation. Don't you think?”
“Right now I don't know what to think.”
“Well, why don't you think of taking me in your arms and holding me, instead of sitting there in a gloomy mood.”
*****************
Back at headquarters on Monday morning Wallace opened his locked desk drawer and removed the Gabriela Brunsdorff file. He opened the manila cover, glanced at his latest, submitted report and reached for the telephone. With one finger he pushed O.
“Operator.”
“Yes operator, I need to contact the headquarters of the Chicago Police Department. Unfortunately I don't have the number. Could you help me?.”Wallace asked.
“One moment please.”
Three minutes later the operator came on line. “The number you are requesting is, area code 312. The number is 746-8350. Would you like me to place a call?”
“Yes please.”
After three rings a female voice came on line. “Chicago Police Department. How may I help you?”
“This is Detective Robert Wallace of the Nautilus Beach Police Department in New Jersey. I'd like to speak to the Commanding Officer of the Detective Division, please.”
“One moment please.” Wallace was put on hold and he sat listening to some old tune that he couldn't identify. Finally a man came on line. “Captain Llewellyn.”
“Captain. This is Detective Robert Wallace of the Nautilus Beach Police Department in New Jersey. Currently I'm investigating a homicide that happened in our city. Right now I have reason to believe that a suspect, one Lester Cummings was arrested in your city in 1970, May 15.The information I have is that the charge by your department was for assault and battery. What I'm calling for is I'd like to know the particulars in that arrest, such as the victim and or complainant and if possible the decision of the court, if any.”
“I see. You do know that the Chicago Police Department is made up of many precincts?”asked Llewellyn.
“Yes sir, I do. I don't expect you to be able to reach out and immediately touch the file containing the information I need.”
“Of course, you know I also need verification of who you are and who you represent. After all, we are talking on a telephone. I have your name. I will turn you over to my secretary. Give her your name, rank, and the address of your department. Give me a few days to trace the information you need. Anything else?”
“Yes sir. I need
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