Garwood Village by Robert F. Clifton (romantic novels in english TXT) 📕

“Hell, that's easy. He had bright red hair. Actually that's what made it easy for us to pick him up, usually for purse snatching. The victim would describe their assailant as a young kid with shocking red hair. All we had to do then is send a radio car to pick him up at home and bring him in. Like you said, he was a royal pain in the ass”.

After they finished lunch Robert stood and shook hands with Al Wilson. “Cap, it's been good to see you again. Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it. I'm heading back to headquarters now and we'll start looking for Horton. Hopefully, we'll nail his ass before he kills again. Right now I want to know if there is anything you need, candy, cigarettes, a bottle of booze?”

“Nope, don't need a thing. Good to see you son. You take care and watch your ass”.

“I will...Good by”.

After the drive from the Mullica Arms to Nautilus Beach Wallace walked into his office and summoned his squad. Each detective was then given the assignment to look for Lionel Horton. With no mug shot, rap sheet or fingerprints all they had was a physical description to go on. But, now at least, they had a name.

Wallace looked at Carol Myers. “Carol, I want you to go to Garwood Village. Talk to the rental manager and see if they have any old records of the Horton's living there. I want to know when they moved and where they went. Let's hope there is a forwarding address. Frank? I want you to go back to the Dude Ranch talk to the employees. You take the day shift. Tom, you go there tonight and talk to the night shift. We're looking for Lionel Horton, a Caucasian male, between twenty five and thirty five years old six feet tall, weight unknown with bright red hair and is known as Lionel Horton. Tom, you might want to talk to some of the patrons. The Dude Ranch is a neighborhood bar and has been in the same location for forty years. Somebody might remember the name”.

At home that night Wallace swallowed the last dregs of coffee from his cup. He picked up the aluminum foil tray that held the remains of a frozen turkey dinner and walked to where the trash can under the sink would hold the garbage. He dropped the container into the bin then put the cup and silverware in the dishwasher. Washing his hands he then dried them with the hand towel and turned out the kitchen light as he left the room. Entering the combination living room and den he took a seat at his desk then with a letter opener proceeded to open envelopes that contained bills for electric, telephone and gas. He set those aside, knowing that he would eventually write the checks for each one and mail them. The last envelope he opened caught his attention. It was a small brochure announcing the presentation of dance by Jose Greece sent to him from the Forrest Theater in Philadelphia. He read the leaflet carefully looking for the program. He smiled when he saw the words, “Ravel's Bolero”.

He picked up the telephone receiver, then dialed the number and waited.

“Hello?”

“What are you doing?”, he asked.

“Nothing, getting ready to shampoo my hair”, Mary answered.

“Are you busy Saturday night?”, he asked.

“No. Why?”

“Would you have dinner with me and then take in Jose Greco's Dance Troupe dancing the flamenco at the Forrest Theater in Philadelphia?”

“Yes”.

“Does dining at Bookbinders appeal to you?”

“Anywhere you want is fine with me”.

“Well, the restaurant and theater are on the same street, although a couple of blocks apart. That makes it easier for driving as well as parking”.

“Robert, that's fine. How shall I dress?”

“I'm wearing a suit and tie”.

“Thank you, now I know what to wear”.

“I'll be talking to you before Saturday just in case there are any last minute changes. Meanwhile, I'll call the ticket office tomorrow and reserve our seats”.

“Sounds good. How have you been?”, she asked.

“As you know, busy”.

“Off the record is there anything new?”

“Yes, we're getting closer”.

“Robert?”

“What?”

“Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this case you're on”.

“Stop worrying. I'll be fine. Now, go wash your hair. Good night”.

“Good night”.

The next morning Wallace called headquarters and informed those in the Chief's office that he would be arriving at ten A.M. He then dialed the long distance number of the Forrest Theater and after talking to the agent selected seats one fourteen and one fifteen in row K in the orchestra section. He gave his credit card number, confirmed that his tickets would be waiting at the box office, politely said “Thank you” and hung up the telephone.

Wallace then took the elevator down to the condo parking garage, entered his Ford sedan and drove into the heart of the city. He was in luck as he spotted a parking space directly in front of Angelo's Barber Shop. Angelo catered to bankers, doctors, lawyers, politicians and Wallace.

He parked the car, locked the doors then entered the shop. Angelo was busy using the clippers on a balding fat man and upon seeing Robert greeted him with a, “Good to see you Captain. Someone will be with you shortly”.

“Thank you Angelo”, Wallace replied as he took a seat and picked up the Nautilus Beach Press and turned to the sports section. At this time of the year everything was about basketball, a game that held little interest for him. He scanned the pages looking for any article related to the Phillies or Eagles, but found nothing. Next, he went to the financial pages, checked his stock, smiled at some of his holdings that were up and muttered under his breath at those that had dipped on the market. “What the hell, all this is is sophisticated gambling. You win today you lose tomorrow. I will call Norman Peterson when I get to the office and ask him what the hell has happened to the hot tip he gave me on the Welcome Gold Mine. Looks like the only thing that was welcomed was my money”, He thought to himself.

When an empty chair appeared Wallace got up walked to where Joe Mano stood waiting. “Good morning Joe, just a trim today”, he said.

“No problem Captain. How are things?”

“Busy Joe, busy”.

“Yeah, that's all they print in the paper. The Garwood Slasher this. The Garwood slasher that. It's getting kinda old by now. Do you think you'll ever catch this guy Captain?”

“All I can tell you Joe, is I'm sure as hell going to try”.

Saturday night the waiter held the seat for Mary Wagner. She thanked him as she sat down. Unfolding the napkin she placed it in her lap as Wallace took a seat. She looked around and said, “It doesn't appear to be too busy tonight”.

“What you see is others like us, the early dinner crowd, anxious to dine and get to the theater”.

“Do I look alright? I really had a hard time deciding what to wear”, she asked.

“I don't know why. You only had five nights and four days to make a decision”.

“You're a man. You don't understand”.

“And I doubt that I ever will. You look fine. You're beautiful and you know it”.

“I know no such thing”.

Wallace looked over the menu, mentally made his choices and set the bill of fare on the table.

“That was quick. What are you having?”, she asked.

“Sea Food, clams, scallops, rice”.

“I think I'll have the stuffed flounder”.

“No appetizer or salad?”

“Maybe a shrimp cocktail, but no salad.”

“Soup?”

“Perhaps the shrimp bisque”

“I'm having the usual, clam chowder”.

“Good, here comes the waiter. I think I'll have a whiskey sour to start off with”, she said.

“Have what you want”.

After they both ordered Mary sipped her cocktail and from time to time Wallace took small swallows of coffee from his cup. Mary watched him and asked, “How many times have you seen Jose Greco dance?”

“This is only the second time. I saw him before in New York. It was maybe two or three years ago. Who knows? Time goes by so quickly I can't keep track of it. Have you ever seen him?”.

“Once, on television”.

“Did you enjoy watching him?”

“I guess it was nice. I'm not into the arts as much as you are Robert”.

“Well, I hope you enjoy him this evening”.

After dinner Wallace drove to the parking garage near Walnut Street, took the ticket from the parking attendant and with Mary Wagner walked around the corner to the Forrest Theater. He walked to the ticket window and mentioned his name. He then showed his identification and credit card number verifying that he was indeed the purchaser of two orchestra seats for this evenings show.

An usher escorted them to their seats and once seated they both read the program. “It seems to me that at one time in a conversation you mentioned that Ravel's Bolero is your favorite song”, said Mary.

“I probably said that Ravel's Bolero is one of my favorite songs. I have several favorites”.

“Tell me later”, she said as the house lights dimmed.

The haunting, persistent beat of the bolero began as the lights on stage revealed five women seated, dressed in long gowns. They clapped their hands in time with the rhythm. One woman in the center of the group was dressed in red, while the others were attired in white. She danced in what could be considered almost a solo act. While the four women clapped in unison, the woman in red displayed a large fan. She then gracefully used the device skillfully, drawing attention to herself. Then as the center dancer kept time with the fan the other dancers rose and danced around her,all the time dancing the flamenco and the sounds of the hard heels on their shoes resonated from the stage out into the audience. And the audience watched, afraid they might miss a step performed by the dancers. At the same time they listened, not wanting to miss a note played by the orchestra or the sound of Dancers heels striking the stage floor.

Next came three male dancers and when they did there was a moment of brief applause as the audience recognized the star of the show, Jose Greco. The tempo of the bolero increased and as it did so did the sound now of seven sets of heels making contact with the hard surface on stage. The women now held by the hand by the men were led through the steps of the flamenco and with each stanza the tempo of the music increased as did the rhythmic stepping heels. Both men and women gracefully moved their arms and hands in artistic fashion accenting not only their dancing, but the mood they had created for the audience. And the audience loved it, many sitting on the edge of their seats afraid to take their eyes off of the dancing troupe.

As the women danced they spread-ed their full skirts then waved the hems they held in their hands in time with the music. Then as Jose danced with the woman in the red dress at the crescendo of the bolero it came to an end. When it did Wallace joined others in the theater as he stood and applauded. After three curtain calls, the dance troupe was allowed to retire.

Mary watched Robert as he stood clapping his hands. She saw the look of joy that appeared on his face. She could see the appreciation he had for the artists that had just performed. She had finally seen the other side of his personality, the gentle side, the generous side, giving, not taking and the deep down hidden, artistic side. She loved him. “Will he ever come to love me?”, she asked herself mentally as she watched him.

Chapter Nine

Captain Wallace took a bite from the lemon dough-nut he held in his hand, chewed it,then washed it down with a swig of coffee. He sat silently watching his squad members doing the same.