Read Trueman Bradley - Aspie Detective Page 10


  “We’ll talk about this more, okay?” she asked. “But for now, can you come with me? Mrs. Levi, Sal and I are playing cards. I came into your office to ask you if you want to join us in our card game. So, how about it, Trueman?”

  “I can’t come,” I said. “I have to organize my papers.”

  Nora looked at the mess of papers and her shoulders dropped. I recognized the frown on her face—it meant she felt guilty and ashamed.

  “I’m sorry I messed up your papers,” she said. “I promise I’ll help you organize them, after the card game.”

  “You will?” I asked. “It might take five hours.”

  Nora smiled at me.

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “That gives us lots of time to talk. I said we’ll talk about your feelings more, right?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Then, we’ll organize and talk,” she said.

  “For five hours?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  I couldn’t stop smiling. I was always happy and comforted in Nora’s presence and the thought of spending five hours with her, involved in the peaceful task of organizing, seemed as blissful as heaven. Maybe she liked being with me so much that we could have a reliable, trustworthy friendship, without needing to be married.

  “So, ready to play cards?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ll do what makes you happy.”

  “Well, then,” she said, “let’s go!”

  I followed her out of my room and into the hall. The hall was dark and smelled like the streets of New York City. A draft was blowing through the hall and so I knew many windows were open. She opened the double doors that led into a very big office, which I had rented but not yet used.

  Inside, there was very little furniture. There were no coverings on the windows. The flashing lights of Reade Street were visible and the full moon could be seen in the sky. Pale blue moonlight lit everything. All of the thirteen windows were open and there was a cool breeze blowing through the room.

  There was only one table, with four chairs. Sal and Mrs. Levi sat at the table, playing cards. Nora and I walked to the table and sat down. On the table was a pot of tea and a cake.

  “Trueman, dear!” said Mrs. Levi. “I’m so glad you could join us! I baked you another raspberry lemon cake. I know you must like it, since you ate the other one so quickly!”

  “Thank you,” I said. “You’re playing poker?”

  “We sure are!” said Sal.

  “I know this game,” I said. “I watched my granddad playing it with his police officer friends. I was six years old.”

  “Six?” asked Sal. “Well then, I guess you’re out of practice. Maybe you will play for a while? I’ll teach you.”

  Sal gave each of us five cards and we started playing.

  “Sal was just telling me about your adventures on East 13th Street,” said Mrs. Levi. “So, did you really catch a murderer?”

  “We sure did!” said Nora, “but I have a feeling Detective Malcolm Vrie is going to try and make everyone believe he’s the one who caught him.”

  “Malcolm Vrie?” asked Mrs. Levi. “Now, why does that name sound so familiar to me, dear?”

  “Ah yes, it was a spine-chilling adventure!” said Sal. “Just like out of a Dick Tracy comic book! It does my old heart good to watch these two young detectives chase criminals!”

  “Who is Dick Tracy?” I asked.

  “You never heard of him?” asked Mrs. Levi. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking! He’s a famous comic book detective. A lot like that detective you always talk about. What’s his name? Bam?”

  “Slam,” I said. “Dick Tracy is like Slam?”

  “Well, sort of,” said Nora, “but Dick Tracy uses a lot more research and intelligent investigation to catch criminals.”

  “Yes,” said Sal. “Slam Bradley uses his fists instead!”

  I had never heard of Dick Tracy. But I had been so focused on Slam Bradley that I hadn’t even thought of the possibility of there being other comic book detectives who I might like better.

  Ever since my meeting with Eddie, the violent carpenter, I had doubted my ability to be like Slam. In the comic books, Slam always punched people and used his fists to defeat criminals and solve crimes. I was too clumsy and easily frightened to punch people. When Eddie attacked me, I was helpless. Even if I had wanted to punch him, I didn’t know how. I wanted to be like Slam, but I had to admit that I was nothing like him. But if there were other comic book detectives that used intelligence, not punches, to solve crimes, then maybe I could try to be like those detectives instead.

  “What?” exclaimed Sal. “A royal flush!”

  We had been playing poker while I was thinking.

  “Yes. It is a royal flush,” I said.

  “But that’s the best hand in the game!” said Sal.

  “When we’re talking about poker…” I said, “and you say I have a good ‘hand.’ That means I have a strategically beneficial configuration of cards, right?”

  “What?” asked Sal. “I don’t understand that.”

  “Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Levi. “That’s what it means.”

  “Aha. I thought so,” I said. “I learned that from my granddad. Yes… an ace, a king, a queen, a jack and a ten. All of them of the hearts suit. It is a royal flush. The best hand in poker. Better than your hands. I win, correct?”

  “I thought you said you haven’t seen this game played since you were five years old?” asked Sal.

  “Six,” I said.

  “And you get a royal flush?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “Why not?”

  “Trueman has an exceptional memory,” said Nora.

  “Mio dio!” said Sal. “You should go to Monte Carlo and gamble at the casinos! With your powerful brain, you could make millions of dollars!”

  “I don’t need it,” I said. “I have enough money.”

  “Well,” said Sal, “then make millions and give it to me!”

  Nora and Mrs. Levi laughed and we started playing again.

  “You know, I love to hear about your adventures, Trueman,” said Mrs. Levi. “Back when I was a girl living in Brooklyn, my father had a friend named Mordy. He was a private detective and worked for a detective agency. He looked just like Dick Tracy! He’d always have a smile for me or a piece of candy. I just loved Mordy! I’d read my old Dick Tracy comics and imagine Mordy was Dick. Oh, how I’d be happy at the end when he solved the case! I always wanted to work in a detective agency and be like Mordy. I regret that I never did. I married young and never really had a career besides being a landlady.”

  Mrs. Levi looked down at her lap. For a moment I thought she had found more baloney stains on her dress. But soon I recognized the look in her eyes. Her memories had made her sad.

  “Why are you sad?” I asked.

  “Oh nothing, dear,” she said. “I just sometimes wonder how life could have been different if I had followed my dreams in life.”

  “Oh,” I said. “You wish you worked in a detective agency?”

  Mrs. Levi didn’t answer, but continued staring at her lap.

  “I know what you mean, Mrs. Levi,” said Sal. “I had wanted to join the police when I was a young man in Palermo, Italy. I also had the dream to become a detective. But what did I do instead? I became a taxi driver! There’s no excitement in driving people to airports and sitting on my rump all day. Why did I start to drive a taxi? Why did I not become a detective? Every day, I ask myself this. I regret my choices in life.”

  “A straight flush?” asked Sal. “How do you do this?”

  I put my cards on the table and showed them to everyone.

  “Yes,” I said. “The second best hand in poker. My straight flush beats all your hands. I win again.”

  “You’re quite the card shark, Trueman,” said Nora. “Remind me to take you Vegas with me one of these days.”

  “Vegas?” I said. “You mean the city of Las Vegas?”

  “
Yeah,” said Nora. “Vegas is full of card sharks.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “How can there be sharks in Las Vegas? That city is in the state of Nevada. Isn’t Nevada a big desert? Sharks need water to live and deserts are dry.”

  “No, Trueman,” said Nora. “Sorry, that’s an expression. ‘Card shark’ means someone who’s good at playing card games.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Now I understand.”

  Nora collected the cards and we started playing again.

  “I always wanted to be a detective too,” said Nora.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “You are a detective!”

  “Well, yeah,” said Nora. “I am now. But for a long time, I worked as a waitress in Brooklyn. During my whole marriage.”

  “But you’re divorced now?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” said Nora. “It wasn’t until after my divorce that I followed my dream to become a detective. I got my doctorate in criminology before my marriage, but I never actually did anything practical with my education. I thought of becoming a detective. But I never had the courage to do it until after my divorce. I only started trying to become a detective about a year ago. And, I gotta tell you, so far, I’ve hardly been able to make any money from detective work. So, you’re right, I am a detective. But I’m still not a successful detective.”

  “A successful detective?” I asked. “What does that mean, exactly? You are saying that you’re an unsuccessful detective?”

  “Well, yes,” said Nora. “So far, I have been unsuccessful. And if I don’t become successful soon, I’ll run out of money. No cases equals no money. See? If I’m not successful, I’ll need to give up detective work and go back to being a waitress.”

  Everyone frowned. I could interpret they were sad because Nora might have to stop being a detective. I was sad too. If she stopped being a detective, she would never work on another case with me. Maybe I would never see her again. I felt a strong desire to make it so that would never happen.

  “Then we will help you to become a successful detective!” I said. “What, exactly, do you need to become successful?”

  “I need cases to solve!” she said. “And I need to solve them successfully. If people read about me in the newspaper, successfully solving cases, then they’ll call me and hire me.”

  “But we did solve a case,” I said.

  “You mean the Eric Lendalainen case?” asked Nora. “Sure, but we didn’t get credit for it. Malcolm will take the credit. So, no one knows we solved it. So that doesn’t help.”

  “Well, maybe we can solve a new case,” I said. “This time, we’ll get the credit. How can we get new cases to solve?”

  “I can go to the NYPD and ask if they’ll give me a case to solve,” said Nora. “But I already tried that and they gave it to Malcolm instead. And now we promised not to interfere in police cases, right? So I can’t hope for NYPD cases anymore.”

  “Is there another way to get new cases?” I asked.

  “Well…” said Nora, “if I could join a detective agency, they would give me cases to solve. If I was part of an agency I could always have cases to solve and I could quickly become a successful detective. But I’ve tried applying for jobs with detective agencies. They’ve never replied to my applications. I guess the agencies don’t want to hire me.”

  Nora frowned and looked at her lap. I could interpret sorrow and pain on her face. It looked like she was trying not to cry. Mrs. Levi also looked like she would start to cry.

  “Maybe Julius was right,” said Nora, “when he said my dream to become a detective was silly. He said I’m not strong enough to do that kind of work, and maybe he was right. I’ll never succeed. I’m destined to be a waitress all my life.”

  “I’ll never forgive my son for how he treated you,” said Mrs. Levi. She reached across the table and held Nora’s hand.

  Everyone at the table was frowning, and I could recognize misery on their faces. I felt miserable too, knowing everyone was unhappy. I couldn’t understand exactly what had caused their upset, but I knew that it could be solved if Nora could become a successful detective. I also felt horrible to think she’d leave me and go to work somewhere as a waitress, instead.

  “What if we create a detective agency?” I asked.

  “We can’t do that,” said Nora. “That takes lots of cash!”

  “Really?” I asked. “How much?”

  “A million bucks!” said Nora. “At the very least!”

  “Oh, good,” I said. “That leaves me 4.2 million.”

  “What?” asked Nora.

  “Didn’t you know, dear?” asked Mrs. Levi.

  “Trueman’s got millions!” said Sal. “Where do you think we got that beautiful old Lincoln Cabriolet? Trueman bought it!”

  “Is that true?” asked Nora.

  “Yes,” I said. “My granddad left me 5.2 million dollars as an inheritance. But I’ve spent some of it.”

  “How much?” asked Nora.

  “Hm… about 66,461 dollars,” I said.

  “That’s all?” asked Nora.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Nora looked down at her lap again, and I couldn’t interpret her emotions. Everyone had stopped playing, put down their cards and were silent. Sometimes they looked at each other, and it seemed to me they were communicating to each other in some non-verbal way I couldn’t understand. It made me uncomfortable, as if they were speaking in a foreign language in my presence.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “What?” asked Nora. “We didn’t say anything.”

  “No,” I said, “but you’re communicating non-verbally. I can recognize what you’re doing. Please remember that I can’t understand that kind of communication. I don’t like being excluded from the conversation. Can you speak aloud, please?”

  They all looked at each other.

  “Trueman?” asked Nora.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  She leaned towards me and grabbed my hand.

  “If we make an agency, it’ll solve everything!” she said.

  “It will?” I asked. “How?”

  “Because,” said Nora, “I could get cases and become a successful detective. Then I don’t have to go back to waitressing and could prove my ex-husband wrong! That would solve all my problems. You understand?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Also,” said Nora, “Mrs. Levi could work for us and so she could fulfill her life-long dream of working in a detective agency! That solves the problems of two people, right?”

  “Oh, but dear,” said Mrs. Levi, “I’m too old to be a detective. No, you should find a younger woman to hire.”

  “You don’t have to be a detective,” said Nora. “You can work in the office. We need someone to organize this place!”

  “Well, in that case,” said Mrs. Levi, “I’d love to!”

  “And I could fulfill my dream to be a detective too!” said Sal. “Of course, I’d drive you around, Mr. Trueman, but now and then I could do a little detective work too. You think so?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I would appreciate your help.”

  “Then that solves three people’s problems!” said Nora.

  “Four people,” I said.

  “Huh?” asked Nora.

  “You won’t need to leave me,” I said. “You won’t leave me to become a waitress. I want to keep you in my life, so that solves my problem. Now we’ve solved four people’s problems.”

  Nora’s face turned red and I guessed this meant she was embarrassed. But she was smiling, so I knew her embarrassment was not a bad thing. Mrs. Levi smiled at me and held my hand.

  “Not only that, dear,” said Mrs. Levi. “You can also become a successful detective yourself! You can solve a few cases and you’ll be famous in no time! With that mind of yours—why, you’ll be the talk of the town! How about that, dear?”

  “Yes!” said Sal. “You could be another Dick Tracy!”

  “And you can name it after your
self,” said Nora.

  “Name what after myself?” I asked.

  “The agency!” said Nora. “How about it? We could call it ‘The Bradley Detective Agency.’”

  “Hey! I like the sound of that!” said Sal.

  “I like it, too,” said Mrs. Levi. “But are you sure it’s not already taken? I mean, maybe there’s already an agency called ‘The Bradley Detective Agency.’ You think of that?”

  “There can’t be two of them?” I asked.

  “No,” said Mrs. Levi. “It’s against the law.”

  “Well, then I think I will call it ‘The Trueman Bradley Detective Agency,’” I said. “I doubt that name is in use already. But how do I make sure the name hasn’t been used?”

  “Well, you see,” said Mrs. Levi, “you can’t just call yourself something and start a business, you know? You’ve got to register with the state of New York. You’ve got to go to the county clerk’s office. That’s located on Centre Street…”

  “Okay, okay,” said Nora. “It sounds like you know a lot about how to start a business. Maybe that can be your job, Mrs. Levi? You can get all the permits and stuff that our agency needs. Any kind of paperwork or permit can be your job, okay?”

  “Of course!” said Mrs. Levi. “From owning property in New York City for over thirty years, I know all about that kind of thing. I can take care of everybody! You know, keep it legal. Like you, Sal, need to get an investigator’s license if you wanna do any detective work. Wouldn’t hurt to get a chauffeur’s license too, dear. Just to make sure it’s all legal, you know.”

  “Great!” said Nora. “So Mrs. Levi can be our office manager, taking care of all the paperwork and what-not.”

  “And I…” said Sal, “I can be chauffeur. But also, I know a lot about how to run a business. I operated my taxi business for twenty years. I know how to do maintenance, how to manage employees, how to order supplies. Over the years, I learned everything needed to run a business. I can run the whole show! That is, if you say so. You’re the boss, Mr. Bradley. But, if you will trust me for the job, I’ll be ‘general manager.’ I’ll operate the whole business, top to bottom! What do you say?”

  “Of course I trust you, Sal,” I said. “You’re hired.”

  Sal smiled and leaned his chair back. I could recognize the happiness on everyone’s face. I was also very pleased with the idea of creating a detective agency. It solved everyone’s problems, and it was even more than I had been dreaming of.