Family Relations

The year is 1944, the summer sun was going down and the heavy night air was rolling in. I was alone at my desk in my office at the back of a dumpy third floor walkup. I was read'n the funnies when my phone rang… jolting me back to my senses.

"Hello?" I barked.
"Yeah, this is Detective Brian O’ Shannon down at the 31st precinct."
"Well good for you cupcake," I snapped.
"Listen we got a little job we need your help on, we're a little backed up down here," he said. "Really, what's it another guy caught cheat'n on his dame?" I asked sarcastically.
"No nothing like that, seems we have a murder," he said.
"A murder?" I replied, getting interested.
"Yeah, and the real psycho kind too, this guy was hacked to bits, it took us a while to identify him."
“Tell me what you got so far,” I said getting even more interested.
"The stiff’s name is Frankie Puntz he lives down on 4th street, Oakwood Apartments, apartment 4B " If you could help me out with this one I’ll owe you”.
I thought it over for about two seconds. The rent was due and I had no clients in my so-called “waiting room.” "Okay. I'll get right on it," I said trying not to sound too excited.

I hung up the phone, grabbed my coat and hat and headed out the door.

The air was thick and my shirt was soaked with sweat by the time I arrived at Apartment 4B around 9:45 PM. I found the old woman landlady and asked her to let me in. "Careful of the mess," she said.

I wasn’t sure what she meant until I got inside. After I broke the police seal on the door, I stepped in, flipped on the lights and it's as if I stepped into hell. There was blood everywhere as if had been painted on and that wasn’t perfume I was smelling. I looked around the place for anything of importance; I made my way to an old beat up desk in the corner. There I spied an envelope, letter opener, and a note which had been hand written, it read,
My Dearest Frankie,

Your love keeps me going,
I don’t know what I would do to you if you left me,
You are everything to me. Love, Jane
         
I pocketed the note, careful not to spoil any prints, and beat it out of that hellhole.

It was almost midnight when I got to the precinct. I ran the name on the bottom of the note past O’ Shannon. He tells me her name is Jane Pittman. She’s the lucky one who discovered the body after returning from a business trip. I decided to go see what this Jane dame knew about the murder.

I arrived at the Pittman house round 10am the next day. It was a lot more than I expected. The address said class but this was ridiculous. I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell and, believe it or not, a butler let me in.

He gave me the once over and from the look on his face he didn’t approve.  “The name’s John Asner, I’m a private investigator. I have a few questions I’d like to ask Miss Pittman,” I said. He left saying curtly “Wait here.” From the next room I heard him announce me. "There’s a Private Detective here to see you ma'am," he said.

He poked his head around the corner and waved me in. I walked into the room and was nearly blown away, this broad was quiet a sight. A classy blonde with legs that could reach the sky, eyes the color of the ocean and the only place I seen lips that big is on billboards.

"Are you Jane Pittman?" I asked.
"I am, can I help you?" she said.
From the looks of her she had been crying.
"My name is John Asner, I'm a Private Investigator, and I need to ask you a few questions about the death of Frank Puntz."
"Really, she sighed, I'll tell you what I know."
"What was your relationship with the victim?" I asked.
"We were, involved," she said hesitatingly.
"Romantically?" I sheepishly asked.
"At times." She replied.
"How long have you and the victim been involved?"
"I have known him for six months."
"You were away from home at the time of the murder correct?''
"Yes! I told the police this already," she replied angrily.
"How do I know for sure?" I asked.
"Check with the airline."
"Does Frankie have any relatives?"
"No, I don’t think so. I know that his mother and father died in a car accident in ‘26 when he was only a year old"
"No brothers or sisters?"
“He never talked about any brothers or sisters,” she said with a sob in her voice.
"He was an only child?" I prodded.
“I suppose if he didn’t have brothers or sister’s you could call him an only child,” she snapped. “What does this all have to do with me? I was in love with him. I think he was going to ask me to marry him. Now what am I going to do?” she began to wail. After a few minutes she composed herself. “Please, just find out who did this awful thing. He must be a monster!”

I wanted to stretch this interview out just so that I could gaze into those eyes a while longer but time was wasting. I’d have to think up another excuse to make it back here. "Well, I think I have what I need, I may come back with more questions later, thank you for your time." "You’re welcome Mr. Asner" she said in that voice that was now purring like a kitten.
“Don’t worry, I'll show myself out" I stammered.
I turned and walked out the door not knowing much more about the murder than when I went in.

Later that day I went to the city morgue to examine the body. I stopped at the desk to get a look at the Death Certificate it read,

Name. Frank Leonard Puntz
Date of Birth. July 22, 1925
Date of Death. June 19, 1945
Cause of Death. Undetermined
         
The Death Certificate didn’t give me much more to go on. I asked the desk clerk to alert the coroner to my arrival. I needed to see this body.

After a wait that seemed like an eternity, hell everything seems like an eternity when you’re waiting in the morgue, the coroner finally arrived. He made my point that the world was full of crazy characters. This guy had spent one too many nights in the cellar.

"Hey buddy, I'm looking for Frank Puntz, died yesterday?" I said.
"Oh aye, aye, friend or family, friend or family?" he mumbled.
"Neither, the name’s John Asner PI."
"Aye, aye, John Asner P.I. P.I."

I think to myself, where did they get this nutcase when he walks over to the fridge and pulls out the rack with Puntz's body on it. I pulled back the sheet and nearly lost my lunch.

"Aye, aye, cut good, real good, cut good," he chirped almost like he loved it.

Examining the body wasn’t going to do me much good and standing here listening to this loony yap in my ear was gonna drive me to smack him. So I decided to put an end to this funfest and pay a visit to the cop who was first to respond to the scene of the crime. I checked my info from O’ Shannon. The cop was a guy named Peabody, Randall Peabody.

I arrived at the precinct round 3pm the day after the murder. I asked the desk chief where I could find this Peabody.

"What do you want to see him for?" he grumbled.
"None of your business jelly pants now where is he?" I not too wisely replied.
He looked at me with an ugly look on his face. "Down the hall, take a left, down the stairs, through the cell hallway; take a right, down another flight of stairs in the basement second door on the right. Can’t miss it," he smirked.
I turned away hoping I could remember everything when I heard the desk chief mumble with a chuckle in his voice "Good luck buddy."

This made me nervous. I stopped and wondered for a second, this Peabody must not be your average Joe either if they keep him in the basement. This case was turning out to be loaded with loonies. I began to think it was no wonder O’ Shannon passed it off to me.

I arrived in the basement and managed to find Peabody's room. I knocked on the door. Suddenly the mail slot opened and a gruff voice came from behind the door.

"Who’s it?"
"John Asner Private Investigator" I replied no longer daring to imagine what to expect.
"Whadda ya want?" the voice said.
"I'm investigating the murder of Frank Puntz," I said, trying to sound more important that I was feeling.
"Well c’mon in," was the reply.
I turned the doorknob and walked in but for some reason only the bottom half of the door opened and I walked smack into the top.
"Oh yeah, forgot to mention, watch your head." Peabody said with a smile.
After a few seconds, when my vision reappeared, I was shocked to see a person no more than four feet tall. Just gets loonier and loonier I thought.
"Are you Randall Peabody?" I asked.
"I am," he replied.
“And you’re a cop?" I asked, ready to buy anything after this little surprise.
“I am” he repeated.
“Well then I just have a few questions to ask you."
"Fire away" he said grabbing a half eaten sandwich from the top of a box in the corner.
He walked over and sat down at a little desk no more than two feet tall complete with a little chair.
"Have a seat," he said waving me to sit down.

I looked over to see two little chairs about the size of a football stood on end. “No thanks, I think I’ll stand thank you,” I said.
"Officer Peabody" I began when he interrupted, "Please call me Shorty, all my friends do."
"Ah, okay… Officer Shorty, you were first to arrive at the scene of the Puntz murder weren't you?"
"Yeah, I was at a doughnut shop getting those little doughnut balls that look like they’re from the hole of the regular size doughnuts, there so good," he said salivating.
"I heard a woman scream from across the street and I ran to see what all the noise was about."
"And when you got there what did you find?" I prodded.
"I saw this dame acting all hysterical like, crying and pointing to the door of the apartment.  I ran in and found Puntz's body chopped up on the floor."
"Did you ask the woman what had happened?"
"Yep, she said she had just arrived there unexpectedly wanting to surprise her boyfriend, looks like she was the one who got the big surprise heh, heh."
"So she said she found him like that, no sign of anyone else?" I asked.
"Nope, that’s it," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Do you remember anything strange about that night?" I asked.
"Stranger than finding a chopped up corpse?” he chuckled. “Not that I can recall."
"Well, thanks for your time," I said, thanks for nothing, I thought. I got up and walked out.

Two days passed and still no leads, I kept racking my brain for something but nothing came out, so I decided to go back to Puntz's apartment. Inside blood still stained the walls, I looked around for anything that could help me. The place was clean. Either there were no clues to begin with, or someone had come back to clean them up. I walked across the hall to question her closest neighbor. This was the first person I ran into since I took this screwy case that appeared somewhat normal. She told me that around 4pm she had heard a woman's voice coming from the apartment; she had poked her head out to see what was happening but couldn't see anything. Later she heard a scuffle. That’s all she could remember. Big help.

As I walked back to the apartment I heard a voice coming from around the corner, "Psst, Psst, over here!" the voice said.
I walked toward the voice. I found it around the corner at the end of the hallway. What I found was a short, rigid old man who looks like he sleeps on the street. "Can I help you?" I said cautiously.
"No, But maybe I can help you." I caught a blast that smelled like yesterday’s tuna sandwich dug fresh from the nearest garbage can.
"And your name is?" I curiously asked.
"My name is unimportant but what I have to say may be very important," he muttered.
"Go on" I urged, not really expecting to hear anything new.
"I heard it all, everything, but I ain't seen who done it." He admitted.
"Well what did you hear?" hoping now that this might lead somewhere.
"I was walking around collecting bottles; you know I do that to get extra money… I ain’t worked since the crash. You remember the crash don’t ‘ya?”
“We can talk about the stock market some other time,” I said. “Tell me what happened at Puntz’s place.” I wanted to scream for him to get to the point.
“I’m gett’n to that part, don’t rush me” he said, clearly enjoying his moment in the spotlight, “When I hear yelling coming from that guy’s apartment. I heard a male voice that sounded like Puntz but then I heard a female voice I ain’t ever heard before. I put my ear against the door and as I did I heard a violent thump against the door, I got scared and ran away."
"Interesting, anything else?" I asked. Don’t stop now I thought.
"It was about an hour later when a dame come runnin out crying."
“Do you know Puntz’s girlfriend Pittman, was it her?”
"No that’s the strange part. She didn’t leave until later, after Miss Pittman come over and found the body, you know, during all the commotion. Maybe she was hiding till the time was right to scram?"
Not a bad theory I thought. “Do you remember anything else about this woman?" I asked getting a little more excited and getting slightly used to the hot fishy breath.
"She was a blonde from what I could tell, I could probably recognize her voice if I heard it again."
"Well if you see her again, here is my card, call me, anytime, day or night."
“Sure, sure,” he said. “Oh buddy,” he rasped before I got to the end of the hall. “I might need a nickel to place that call.” I managed to scrape up a fin and shoved it into his grimy hand. He was happy to have a night free from garbage can meals, and I chalked it up to an investment in my future.

Late that night I was blasted to my senses by the ringing of my phone. Bleary eyed I checked the clock. It was only two AM. This better be important, I silently warned the person on the other end of the line.
I managed to croak out a raspy “Hullo?”
"Yeah it's me, remember I talked to you at Puntz's apartment this afternoon?"
"Oh yeah,” I was jolted awake, he better not be looking for a sandwich, I thought. “What you got for me?"
"That woman, the voice, she's back, she's in his apartment right now."
Finally I seem to have caught a beak. ‘Keep an eye on her, I'll be right there”

I jumped out of bed, got dressed quickly and headed out into the night. Rain was pelting the streets. I finally caught the attention of a cabbie that seemed glad to find a paying fare. I was cold and wet when I reached Puntz's apartment but because it was about eighty degrees I think my shivering was more from excitement then the weather.

I ran up to the building and entered.  I proceeded upstairs, and slowly crept into the apartment. I managed to flip on the lights to find another beautiful blonde going through Puntz's things.

"Hold it right there!" I said. ”You wanna explain to me what you’re doing here?”
She didn’t seem surprised to see anyone and eyed me coolly. “Shouldn’t you be the one answering the questions?” she cooed. “Can’t a girl visit her brother these days?” She added, “Even if he is dead.”
“It’s my business to find out how he got that way” I replied. “John Asner P.I.”
“I don’t know nothing about how he got that way,” she said, a little too quickly for my tastes. “I ain’t seen him in years.”
“That’s not what my witness says” I replied.
“There’s a witness? Who? That old wino I caught a glimpse of in the hall?” she laughed. “He’s a bum, fat chance anyone will believe a word he says.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, word gets out quickly round here, maybe some of the other neighbors might remember seeing you around.”

I kept my eyes on her every move. When I tipped my head to light up a cigarette, I saw her slip a piece of paper into her purse. She thought I hadn’t caught the move.
“What have you got there?” I said noticing for the first time that the room had been rearranged since the last time I was there.
“I ain’t got nothing, you’re crazy,” she said in a somewhat shaky voice, “You got one of those cigarettes for me?”
“Plenty of time for a smoke when we get this mess cleared up” I said, sensing something big was about to break. I moved closer, slowly opening my phony gold cigarette case. As she reached for the smoke I managed to snatch her purse and scatter the contents on the floor.
“Well, well, what have we here?” I said as I fingered the folded paper I had seen her stash.
“Give that to me!” she hissed. “That ain’t none of your business, it’s between me and my brother!”
“Since, as you said, you’re brother ain’t living here or anywhere anymore, I don’t suppose he’d mind if I had a look. Would he?” I was right, and I love being right, the paper was a bombshell. It held the key to the whole sordid story.

I ran the dame into the station. It turned out her name really was Sophie Puntz and she really was Frankie boy’s sister. Detective O’ Shannon was on hand for the show.
I talked him into letting me stay for the questioning, but for the time being that went nowhere. Sophie had clammed up but good.

Word went out on the teletype to all departments for any information on Sophie Puntz. To our surprise we didn’t have to wait long. Our Sophie and big brother Frankie turned out to be a couple of busy con artist’s bilking rich dames and gents out of their family fortunes.

It seems the wealthy Miss Pittman was their latest target and Frankie went to work as soon as he hit town. Pretending to be a wealthy playboy, he wined and dined her but soon the plan hit a surprise snag. The love bug bit him, hard, for real.

Afraid that his soon to be bride might hear about his past conquests and leave him, Frankie convinced her to have her lawyer draw up papers saying that he would never touch any of her money or inherit anything if she were to die. Then he thought He could confess his past crimes and live happily ever after. His happiness didn’t last much longer than it took the ink to dry on the page.

On the night of the murder, sister Sophie paid a surprise visit to check on the progress of the sting. Her funds were running low and needed a recharge.

When Frankie broke the big news about settling down because this time it was true love, it didn’t sit well with Sophie. She flew into a rage and demanded he tear up the document. After all, Pittman hadn’t seem it yet, no harm done she had insisted. Apparently Frankie said no and told her he wanted out. He told her to hit the road if she didn’t like it. Instead of hitting the road, she hit him, right through the heart, with the first thing she found, the letter opener from the desk. In her rage she kept screaming and stabbing until Frankie didn’t bleed anymore.

For an hour she searched the room for the paper from the lawyer but was forced to hide when she heard Pittman’s key in the door. She slipped out while Pittman was screaming her head off. Only the wino noticed.

I became acquainted with Sophie when she returned to search for the document. She remembered that Frankie liked to hide things under floorboards and this trip she got lucky, until I showed up and ruined her day.

A little piece of paper, her criminal past and the testimony of my tuna breathed friend was enough for the D.A. The jury took only an hour to decide and it seems the state is scheduled to use a little extra electricity in a few months. I won’t hold my breath for that to happen though. It seems that it is bad taste to fry dames these days.

As for me, since the part I played hit the papers, business has been good and I’m sure enough time has past for me to pay another call on Miss Jane Pittman, to express my “condolences”…again.

The End