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It was the strangest case I've ever had. Or—and I can say this without a single reservation—ever will have. And I guess it really had its inception back in April…
I was sitting in my office, my head buried in the lunch menu from a local coffee shop. Why, I can't tell you. I mean, I could have recited that menu by heart. Anyhow, I'd just narrowed my choices to a pizza burger or a Taylor ham sandwich when the intercom buzzed.
"Some woman's on the line; she wants to speak to you," my secretary, Jackie, announced. She sounded put-upon. The thing is, Jackie's actually only my one-third secretary—I share her services with the two very nice lawyers who rent me this cigar box I call an office. So it was quite possible she was up to her ears in work just then. Either that, or the phone call had caused a thirty-second delay in her plans. She was determined, she'd confided to me that morning, to dash out of here at the stroke of noon in order to get to the Lord & Taylor lingerie sale "before all the good stuff's gobbled up. "
"What's her name? " I asked quite reasonably.
"I didn't have a chance to find out. "
"I don't suppose she—"
"Gotta run, Dez," Jackie said firmly—just before clicking off. I checked my watch: twelve-oh-five. The Lord & Taylor lingerie sale. Definitely.
Seconds later I was talking to a woman who opened with a hesitant, "You don't know me, but…"
It turned out that her name was Kathy Grasso. "I'm phoning to ask you… that is, to invite you to be the, uh, guest speaker at the Arresting Women's conference this July. We really hope you—"
"Arresting Women? "
"Yes, it's a convention of women mystery writers and their fans. "
Well, how do you like that! With a name like Arresting Women, I figured it was some kind of female police officers gathering!
"It's being held on Saturday and Sunday, July twelfth and thirteenth, in Green View Lake, Connecticut, which isn't far from New Haven," Kathy recited.
"And you want me to speak at this conference? "
Now, you might have the idea that for someone whose profession can, on occasion, leave her open to genuine physical danger, talking to an audience like that would be a piece of cake. But you'd be wrong. The very thought shook me to the roots of my glorious hennaed hair.
"We'd be so pleased if you would. "
"Tell me, how did you get my name? "
Evidently, Kathy wasn't expecting that question. (Although I can't understand why not. )"We… um… we've heard a lot about you—you're really pretty famous. "
"I'm what? "
"That is, among individuals who know anything about… you know, about your line of work," she finished lamely.
"Apparently, no one in your group is familiar with the name Bo Dietl," I remarked.
"Who? "
"A private investigator who actually is famous. "
"This person is a man? "
"That's right. "
"Uh, the thing is, most of our writers have female sleuths—either amateur or professional—so we felt it would be more beneficial for them to… to hear from a woman investigator, you know?Of course," Kathy put in quickly, "it has to be an individual who's well-respected in her field. "
I couldn't suppress a smile. She sounded so earnest, so forthright. But I didn't believe a word she said.
Listen, do you know how many members of the feminine gender are listed under "Investigators" in the Manhattan yellow pages?Two, the last time I looked—including me. (And I doubt there's even that big a choice in any other city. )The way I figure, there was an excellent possibility that after my only competition declined to participate, Kathy went to the telephone directory—and there I was. Or could be she found us both in the directory, and a coin toss decided her on which of us to try first.
But it didn't hurt to be polite. "I thank you for the invitation, Kathy, only I'm really not comfortable—"
It was as if I hadn't spoken. "Naturally, we expect to compensate you for your time—well, somewhat, at least. Unfortunately, we can't afford the sort of rate that I'm sure you earn on your cases, but we can manage a small fee. And, of course, we'll take care of your travel expenses and one night's lodging.
"By the way, we've been holding our yearly conferences at the Green View Lake Inn for a few years now, and everyone just loves the place. The inn itself is so-o pretty, sort of like a country manor. I understand that some of the pieces in the lobby there are genuine antiques. It has a fireplace, too—the lobby, I mean—a beautiful fireplace. "
A beautiful fireplace. How's that for a selling point when you're talking about the middle of July?
"The guests' rooms are a nice size and really comfortable," Kathy chattered on.
"Sounds lovely," I slipped in when she paused for breath, "but—"
"Oh, it is. Quite a few of our attendees stay on until Monday. You might decide to do the same. We're not in a position to pay for that second night, I'm sorry to say," she added hastily, "but maybe you'll like it there so much you'll want to do it on your own. Did I mention that the Green View Lake Inn is actually situated on a lake?So if the weather's nice you can go swimming or rowing or even fishing, if you like. "
I didn't like. Swimming was absolutely unthinkable. I won't tell you how much weight I carry around on my five-foot-two frame—not even if you pull out all of my fingernails—but I love to cook, and I love to eat. Plus, my idea of exercise is walking from the refrigerator to the kitchen table carrying a dish of Häagen Dazs. So you're not about to catch me wearing a bathing suit—not in this lifetime. (For which you can consider yourself fortunate. )As for the fishing part, just the thought of sticking a slimy, squiggly little worm on a hook makes me want to gag. And while I have no real prejudice against rowing, I can't say I have any great desire to pick up an oar, either.
Still, the old inn was beginning to sound inviting. And it suddenly occurred to me that it might be nice to get away—even if only overnight. Maybe if I had a little wine before that talk… "Uh, how long would I have to speak?That is," I tagged on hurriedly, "if I decide to do this? "
"Only forty minutes—and you'd be surprised at how fast the time goes. "Then, with an anemic little giggle: "It really does fly. Oh, and after your talk, you take a few questions from the audience—and that's it. By the way, ours is a very small conference—we don't get more than seventy-five, eighty people, tops—and that's in an exceptionally good year. And not everyone will be attending your session, either. We'll schedule another program for that same hour—you know, to keep you from being overwhelmed. "
"I can't even figure out what I'd say," I protested—but weakly now.
"Just talk about whatever you think would, you know, interest the audience. "
"That's another sticking point. I have no idea what would interest them. "
"Okay, let's see. You could tell them what made you decide to become a private investigator in the first place, and I'm sure they'd also enjoy hearing about some of your cases. I know I would. "
"Are you a mystery writer yourself? "
Kathy sighed. "No, just a fan, I'm afraid. But maybe someday… " she murmured wistfully. "Oh, I almost forgot. We'll be sending out flyers about the event, and a couple of the local newspapers have promised to, you know, give us a nice write-up. Also, we'll be getting a mention in a few of the newsletters put out by writers' groups. Naturally, the name of our guest speaker—your name, I'm hoping—will be prominently featured in all of this. A little publicity can't hurt, can it? "She lost no time in throwing in, "Not that you need it—not somebody with your reputation. "
That's what she thinks! (Or, more likely, what she wants me to think she thinks.) "I don't know. I have real reservations about doing this. What if I suddenly draw a blank? "
"Oh, you won't," the woman assured me blithely. "It's not as if you'd have to memorize anything. Practically all of our speakers have notes with them. "
I turned things over in my mind. Suppose I got the scary part over with at the beginning of the conference… "I was wondering, Kathy, would it be possible for me to give my talk fairly early on Saturday?—the earlier the better. "
"I don't see why not. In fact, I'll make sure of it. "
Well, under those circumstances, I figured I could actually wind up enjoying myself at this thing. At the very least, it would be a change of scenery. I might even gain some perspective with regard to that frustrating, angst-producing love life of mine. And it wasn't as if going out of town for a couple of days would have any impact on my career. I mean, ask me when I last saw a bunch of prospective clients queuing up outside my door, clamoring for my services. Never, that's when.
So in the end I said yes.
***
As soon as Jackie returned from her descent on Lord & Taylor, she stopped in my office to display her impressive haul. After which I told her about the convention.
She refused to accept my version of how I happened to be contacted. Gathering up her possessions now, she shook her short blondish-brown hair. "Listen, they phoned you because you're a damn good PI. "
I blew her a kiss.
"I mean it," she called out as she headed for the door. "You're the best! And it looks like the word's finally getting around. "
Is it any wonder I love that woman?
***
Oh, and by the way, in the highly unlikely event you're wondering what I finally settled on for lunch that day, it was the Taylor ham.
© Selma Eichler
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