Case of the Gardener's Green Thumb

Case of the Gardener’s Green Thumb

         Spam sat in his office chair, leaning back with his feet propped up on his desk. He slapped his fist into the outfielder’s glove he wore on his left hand. The glove was new and needed to be broken in. It was a little small for Spam but it would fit Jerry’s nine-year-old hand perfectly. Spam considered Jerry, as being OK, as far as kids go. He didn’t much care to be around kids. They made noise and were too short. He didn’t trust anyone who was less that four-and-a-half feet tall. Short folks just seemed sneaky to him.

         But Jerry was different; maybe it was because he was Cassidy’s kid. Spam though about that and shook his head. Nope, Jerry was simply a good kid; and, Spam was learning to like him—more than he let on in fact. This afternoon, Spam was going to take him to a ball game. The Yankees were in town and every kid should see the Yankees play at least once in his lifetime. It didn’t hurt that Cassidy was going to tag along with him and Jerry.

         The shrill ring of the telephone caused Spam to stop slapping his fist into the glove and turned his attention toward Cassidy. The sound of her voice, as she answered the phone, caused him to smile. She sounded good; she added a touch of class to the PI’s one-room office.

          “Hi, Lieutenant.” Spam heard Cassidy’s bubbly greeting and saw her eyes twinkle with recognition. “Well, Spam’s playing right now; but, I think I can tear him away for a little business. Hold just a sec.”

         The girl-Friday smiled at Spam and raised her eyebrow, as she held her hand over the phone mouthpiece. “It’s Dave; you be nice, now.”

         Spam ignored the chide and picked up the phone.

          “Hey, Dave, what can I do for you?”

         Cassidy listened to the one-sided conversation. She just loved to watch Spam work.

          “Sure, I’ve got a moment,” Spam assured his old friend. “You want me to come to your place?...Sure I can be there in about thirty minutes…see you then.”

         Spam hung up the phone as he was rising out of his chair.

          “Gotta go over and talk to Dave. I think this may lead to a paying job. I’ll be back in time to make the game. Don’t leave without me.”

         Spam grabbed his shoulder holster that held his .45 cal handgun, strapping it in place as he went. By the time he reached the door, he had also thrown his coat on and was nearly dressed. Cassidy intercepted him at the door, placing a hand firmly on his chest and stopping him. She reached up, tightening and straightening his tie; she shook her head, scolding him.

          “Good grief, Spam. The least you can do is get your clothes on straight, if you’re going to play with the other boys.” She patted the knot after she was satisfied with the way it looked, “There! That ought to do it. Ok, now, go on; and, try not to get anything on your tie.”

************************

         As Spam approached Lt. Dave Frisco’s glassed-in office he could see a knock-out blond sitting in the visitor’s chair in front of Dave. Dave was leaning back in the chair with his hands propped behind his head, intently listening to the doll talk. Spam rapped on the glass of the door twice with his knuckles and entered, unaware of Dave’s motion for him to come on in. The first thing Spam noticed were the long, shapely, sexy legs attached to Dave’s visitor. Her skirt rose high up on her thigh and her hose were slightly darker than her tanned skin, accenting the perfect shape of her calf. Spam had difficulty pulling his eyes from her legs; however, he managed to steer them up her body to the dark blue eyes, which were watching him. Dave didn’t wait for Spam to sit, as he pointed to the chair and began speaking.

          “Spam, this is Jolene Clark—Jack Clark’s wife.”

         Spam nodded to the blond who smiled at him in return, keeping her deep blue eyes focused on his.

          “You remember Jack, don’t you? He served with us years ago at the old 82nd Precinct.”

          “Sure, I remember Jack. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. I see he’s done well domestically.” Spam spoke as he turned his gaze to his friend before focusing them again on Jolene.

          “Jack was a little older than we were. I thought he’d retire by now.” Spam continued.

         With the reference to her husband’s age, Jolene chimed, “Jack was twenty years older than me, Mr. Hummer. I married Jack after he left the police force. He had already come into his inheritance and no longer had to work all those long hours anymore. We were quite happy for several years.”

          “You say you were happy. What caused that to stop?” Spam queried.

          “That’s why you’re here, Spam.” Dave interjected. “We need your help. At least Mrs. Clark here does.”

          “And why does Mrs. Clark need a PI, particularly me?” Spam asked.

          “My husband is missing, Mr. Hummer.”

          “That’s right, Spam.” Dave picked up. “About six months ago, Mrs. Clark came to us reporting Jack Clark missing. We investigated and found no sign of foul play. All his possessions—cars, boats, all his toys and all his money were right where they were supposed to be—nothing missing. After the initial investigation, we concluded there wasn’t anything pointing to a crime being broken. Without a crime we can’t spend any time on it.”

          “And, why I want you, Mr. Hummer, is that you know Jack. I just figured you’d better understand how Jack thought, than would a stranger.” Jolene added.

          “So, what makes you think that Jack didn’t just walk away?” Spam questioned.

          “Just think about it, Mr. Hummer.” Jolene said with a slight smile. “Jack had everything. He was a very rich man. He had a very big house on the water, a four-car garage with toys in each of the bays, a boat you can sleep in, and he had me. Now, I ask you, why would a man walk away from that?”

          “Good point,” Spam concluded. “But that doesn’t tell me what you want with me.”

         Jolene focused her deep blue eyes on Spam and said, “Why Mr. Hummer, I want you to find Jack.”

         Dave added, “That’s right, Spam. We can’t spend any more manpower on this. We’ve gone as far as we can take it. I told Mrs. Clark here, you are the man to find Jack.”

          “I’ll pay you, Mr. Hummer—whatever your going rate is; and, I’ll give you a $5,000 bonus to begin with. I just want you to find my husband.”

         Spam rose to his feet. He walked over to Dave Frisco’s side table where a pot of coffee was brewing. He poured a cup of coffee and picked through the donuts lying in an open carton, looking for a jelly filled one. Not finding one, he walked back to his chair and stood before the other two people. Only then did he speak.

          “Jack Clark was my friend. He was a good cop. I’d be honored to try to find him, if he can be found--only two conditions.” Spam affirmed.

          “Yes? And what are those?” Jolene asked.

          “First is, I won’t start until tomorrow. I’ve got a baseball game to catch and a nine-year-old waiting for me. And second, if I’m going to work for you, I’m not going to call you Mrs. Clark. I’ll call you Jolene. Is that OK with you?”

         Jolene Clark gracefully uncrossed her long legs and rose to her feet.

          “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Spam.” She smiled as she walked through the doorway, calling behind her, “By the way, you can call me Jo; that’s what my friends call me. See you tomorrow, Spam; enjoy your game.”

**********************

         Spam rapped firmly with the knocker attached to the middle of the large oak door. Cassidy admired the entrance way and the plants lined along the long walkway to the door. It was obvious that significant attention was give to the landscaping of the Clark property. Spam and Cassidy waited for someone to answer the door. They knew Jolene was home because they had called her from a pay phone in route to her home.

         The massive door swung open and Jolene stood before them, just as gorgeous as Spam had described her to Cassidy. Jolene’s eyes sparkled as she recognized Spam and at the same time they took inventory of Cassidy--all within a fraction of an instant. She warmly welcomed the two into her home.

         They followed Jolene down a hallway into a large office lined with oak paneling, furnished with solid wood furniture, and upholstered principally with expensive leather. It was obvious this was Jack’s study.

          “I figured you would want to begin in here, Spam.” Jolene concluded.

          “Good guess, Doll.” Spam affirmed.

          “By the way, Spam, how’d the game turn out?” Jolene quizzed as she glanced to Cassidy, who did not miss the glance.

         Cassidy picked up, “The game was great. Yankees won in the bottom of the ninth. Maris doubled and scored Kubek. Jerry caught a foul from Richardson in the third inning—made his day.”

          “Oh, I see there was more than a nine-year-old with you, Spam.” Jolene chuckled as she assessed the situation.

         Spam shrugged and changed the subject, “Yeah, well, the game’s old news. Tell me about Jack. What was he involved in at the time he disappeared?”

         Jolene motioned to the large overstuffed easy chairs sitting in front of the big oak desk. She took one and the others followed suit.

         Jolene thoughtfully responded, “Well, Spam, since Jack retired, he has not been involved in much of anything. He surrounded himself with his hobbies. He loves to drive that boat out at the dock, and there are his cars. He tinkers with them until he gets them running and shining like a new penny and then sells them and gets another project. He has made this property his number one project. He has installed a pool, a cabana, added a playroom onto the back of the house, he built a walkway down to the dock that is worthy of work done on the turnpike, and he has landscaped the yards to the degree it requires a full-time gardener to maintain the place. I suppose he has truly become a gentleman of leisure.”

          “And what do you think about that, Jo?” Spam asked. “I mean, some women like for their men to be connected--you know, businessmen, movers, shakers, men of power.”

         Jolene shot back immediately, “Jack never cared much for what other folks did or thought. He had all the power he ever wanted while he was on the force. No, Jack was concerned with enjoying the simple things of life. The money he inherited permitted him to do that. “

         She paused, and then continued, “Of course you already know that, don’t you Spam. You know what kind of guy Jack is. I loved Jack because of the fact that he came without any hidden agendas. Jack was exactly what you saw.”

         Spam smiled at Jolene. “Yeah, I know that. I wasn’t trying to figure out what kind of guy Jack was. I wanted to know what kind of woman you were. You’re OK, Jo. I think you really loved Jack for the mug he was and not the dough he had in the bank.”

         “Thank you, Spam.” Jolene replied softly. “Now, how do we find Jack?”

          “Ok,” Spam began. “You know of anyone who would want to harm Jack? Did he have any enemies?”

          “Not that I’m aware of. Of course, I wasn’t around during the days of his police work. You’d know better than I about those days. Do you have any enemies, Spam?”

          “Point well taken, Jo.” Spam confirmed. “Let’s just assume that if someone had it in for Jack it was since he left the force. I mean that was fifteen or twenty years ago. I think the chances are, if someone wanted to get Jack out of the way, it was someone he knew recently.”

         Cassidy spoke up, “Jo, did Jack belong to any country club, social group, or any other network like that.”

          “Not really,” Jolene responded slowly. “All Jack had was acquaintances. No one who was really close to him. We spent most of our time with each other. We entertain rarely and don’t go out much.”

          “OK,” Spam began a new tack. “What was the last project Jack was involved in?”

         Jolene furrowed her brow as she mulled over the question and then slowly spoke, “Well, I guess that would have to be the front lawn, all five acres of it. Jack had the front lawn tilled and re-sod with new St. Augustine turf. He worked with Alejandro, our gardener, for about two weeks to get that accomplished.”

          “Right” Spam affirmed and stood. “ I guess that means we need to begin with the gardener. What can you tell me about this guy Alejandro?”

         Cassidy joined Spam on her feet. She knew this interview was almost over.

         Jolene responded to Spam’s question. “Well, Alex is a jewel. He’s a gorgeous Latin, from Spain. He has a green thumb and can make a brick grow if he tends to it. I don’t know what we would do without Alex.”

          “You call him Alex? Sounds to me like you’re very fond of this Latin lover?” Spam probed.

         Jolene chuckled noticeably, “Oh, yes, Alex is a Latin lover. He has ladies all across the valley. But, let me assure you, Spam, I’m not one of them. No, I have no designs on Alex.”

         Spam smiled warmly at Jolene and responded, “If you say so, Jo. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we are going to have a little talk with don Alejandro.”

          “You’ll find him down at the greenhouse. Just go out back; you can’t miss it.”

         Spam and Cassidy made their way down the manicured path to the massive greenhouse located halfway to the pier. They noticed a man bent over some seedlings tending to them and assumed they had found Alejandro. As they approached he turned his attention to them. He appeared to be about thirtyish, with dark black hair and deep brown eyes. He sported a few days of stubble which cast a little of the bad boy image on the gardener. He was every inch the image of the Latin lover. Had Jolene succumbed to his persona, Spam would not have been surprised. The man was bare chested. A thin layer of sweat coated his body and accented the muscles of his arms and the rippling abs cascading across his stomach. Spam caught a glance at Cassidy and noticed her smiling, unconsciously approving.

          “You must be Alejandro. My name’s Hummer and this is my associate Cassidy Hunter.”

          “Si, I am Alejandro. How can I help you, Senior.”

          “We are trying to determine the whereabouts of your employer, Mr. Clark.”

          “Si, Senior Clark has been gone a very long time. But how can I help you? I am just the jardinero.”

          “That’s true, Alejandro. But, I’ve found that sometime little things can lead us to bigger conclusions. We just have a few questions.”

          “Of course, Senior, I am at your service.” Alejandro assented.

         Spam continued, “Alejandro, do you like your employers? I mean, sometimes you can work for folks who are difficult. Did you have any problems with the Clark’s?”

          “No, Senior. I have no difficulties with them. I do not often work with Senior Clark. He gives me direction and I do it. But, the Senora often works with me in the flower garden. She is a gentle person. Her touch with las floras, the flowers, is very tender. I can tell she likes to work with la tierra, the ground. Sometimes we laugh at the things we talk about; and often time passes into hours. She has a tender corazon, Senior Hummer. I often think Senior Clark does not appreciate that.”

         Alejandro stopped his dialogue, as if he had misspoken. “But, what do I know, I am a simple jardinero; I work with the plants. I will leave the concern of the heart to others.”

         Spam smiled at Alejandro and gazed around the grounds. “Well, it appears to me, Alejandro, that you are a very good jardinero. I think we’ve got all we need. Thank you for your time.”

          “Con mucho gusto, Senior, Senorita.” Alejandro nodded to Spam and Cassidy and returned to tending his plants.

**********************

         Cassidy closed the door of the Fairlane and waited for Spam to start the car before she engaged in discussing what they had just witnessed.

          “Oh, my god, Spam,” Cassidy spoke in amazement. “Alejandro is totally smitten with Jolene. He’s blinded by his emotions.”

          “Do you think so?” Spam responded. “There’s no doubt he likes the dame. You got to admit she is quite a looker. But, I wouldn’t say he’s smitten.”

          “Spam Hummer, are you blind? I can’t believe you don’t see he is totally infatuated with that woman. And, the crazy thing is, I don’t think she even realizes it. You know, Spam--I’m not sure he is aware of how much in love with her he is. Men are like that, you know.”

          “Get real doll, a man knows when he’s falling for a woman. That’s not something he’s not aware of. Even if he doesn’t show it, he knows.”

          “Are you sure, Spam?”

          “Sure, I’m sure; I’m a man ain’t I?”

          “Would you know, Spam? I mean if some woman was in love with you, would you know? And, would you recognize being in love with a woman?”

         Spam felt uneasy and a little cornered by Cassidy’s questions, “Well, we’re not talking about me. We are talking about don Alejandro. And, let’s say for a moment our Latin lover was in love with Jolene. Would he go so far as to kill her husband to get to her?”

          “It’s hard to say, Spam. All I know is love is a powerful emotion and can drive a person to extremes—even a misguided or mistaken love. You know it would be easy to have Jack disappear. There’s a lot of water out there in that bay. More than one person has been sent to the water’s deep, hidden forever.”

         Spam thought about that and then replied, “Yeah, that’s so. But, that’s a big boat Jack has. Someone would have seen that boat if it were taken out in the bay, either going out or coming in. And, there’s always a chance a dumped body will float to the surface. It’s happened before. No, I think taking Jack out to sea would be a little chancy for our Latin lover.”

         The two fell quiet for a moment. They watched the cars pass and pondered the problem.

         Then Spam slowly remarked, “No, we’ve got to think like a gardener. What would a gardener do?”

          “You mean like plant him?” Cassidy remarked flippantly.

         Instead of firing back at Cassidy with a smart remark, Spam fell quiet. Then he spoke in amazement, “My god, Cassidy, that’s it! He buried him. Alejandro killed Jack and buried him in the front yard under all that new turf they just put in!”

         Cassidy looked incredulously at Spam and asked, “But, how could you ever prove that, Spam? That yard is several acres and he could be buried anywhere.”

          “It can be found; but it ain’t easy.” Spam conceded. “It takes a lot of manpower, some probes, and a bunch of shovels. But, you can still miss a buried body, cause the process is still hit or miss. And, probing five acres of lawn is not practical. Even if Jolene let us do it, we’d still need to have a search warrant. There’s no way the D.A. is going to let us have a search warrant based on a hunch. No, Cassidy, we’re gonna have to find that body some other way.”

         The conversation during the remainder of the trip back to the office was sparse. The problem of searching the new laid lawn weighted heavy on their minds. As Spam pulled into the parking space and turned the car off, Cassidy broke the silence.

          “Spam, what if we got a dog?”

          “You’ve already got a dog.”

          “No, not for us, silly—to find the body. What if we got a dog who is trained to find dead bodies?”

          “You may have something there, Doll. Let me make a call. There’s a guy I know who has this dog named Buster—a big black Lab. He helped find that kid who was abducted a year ago—found the poor kid buried out in the woods. If it hadn’t been for that dog, they’d never found the body or caught the sleaze-ball who killed the kid.”

          “Oh, that’s awful, Spam. But, maybe Buster can help us find Jack. You’re amazing, Spam.”

          “Yeah, I know.” Spam agreed. “We can use the phone in Jocko’s. I think we both could use a drink.”

***********************

         It was 6:30 in the morning. Spam had heard rumors of the Sun coming up every day about that time, but he tried not to witness it. He cupped the styrofoam coffee cup in his hand and tried to ignore the cold. The wind was blowing in from across the water and it set a chill upon the lawn that would not abate until later in the morning, after the Sun had an opportunity to warm it up. But, Hank Bledsoe insisted that his dog, Buster, have the early morning to start his search.

          “OK, Spam,” Dave Frisco began. “Tell me again why the hell I’m standing out here in the chill of the morning with my men holding shovels. I don’t think I was awake earlier when you explained it to me.”

          “Well, Hank over there said Buster had increased olfactory senses in the early morning.”

          “What the hell does that mean?” Dave quizzed.

          “I think is means Buster’s smeller works better in the morning.” Spam explained. “He also said Buster’s nose is ten times more sensitive than mine and yours. He can smell a dead body even if its been buried. He said the smell transfers to the soil and a dog can sniff that sort of thing.”

          “I guess we’ll find out.” Dave remarked as he took a sip of his hot coffee.

          “Yeah, I guess we will.” Spam continued, “You know, Dave, it was Cassidy’s idea to get the dog. That dame’s pretty smart.”

          “And, she’s good on the eyes too. When you gonna tell her how you feel about her? You know, if you mess around too long, you’re gonna lose the best thing that’s come your way in a long time.”

          “I don’t know, Dave. Cassidy’s a good kid. I don’t think she’d care much for a gumshoe like me, though. To her I’m just a boss.” Spam shrugged and shared somewhat unconvincingly.

          “Hey, Lieutenant!” A man with a shovel called out. ”The guy with the dog said he found something.”

         Everyone gravitated over to where Buster was focused on a spot on the lawn. The dog was alternating between whining, pawing the grass. and circling the spot.

          “That mean something?” Spam asked Hank.

          “Yeah, it means something is buried down there. And, Buster can tell the difference in a human body and some dead animal. I’d get a body bag ready if I were you.”

          “Looks like we dig here, fellas!” Dave said to the men standing around him holding shovels. “Let’s get started.”

         As the three men with shovels began their chore, Spam spoke to Dave.

          “You know, Dave, it might not be a bad idea to get a man on Alejandro. He’s gotta know that we are digging up his new lawn. He also knows what we’re looking for. He may try to run on us.”

          “Yeah,” Dave responded, “I already thought of that. I had a uniform go over and stake out his place while we were on our way over here. I just heard back from him as we started digging. Seems as if the place is empty. There’s evidence that someone packed in a hurry. Our bird may have already flown the coop.”

          “You might want to check the airport for flights to Madrid. I think he’d probably want to go home. He’d feel the safest there.”

          “Sounds reasonable, except for one thing.” Dave added, “Madrid has an extradition agreement with the US. I’ll have them check on trips to countries that don’t have the death penalty. Likelihood is they won’t extradite to the US. I’ll do it now on my unit radio. Maybe we can get this guy before he takes off.”

         Lieutenant Frisco walked the short distance to his squad car parked on the lawn near them. As he was using the radio when one of the men with shovels cried out, “Hey, Lieutenant, we got something here!”

         Spam crouched down near the edge of the hole and saw the dirty remains of an human arm. One of the men in the hole brushed the dirt from the arm and revealed a gold watch on the wrist. He took out a cloth and wiped the face of the watch clean, leaning in closer to read the face of the watch.

          “There’s something written on the face.” The man said, straining to read the message.

          “What’s it say?” Spam asked.

         The officer looked up after examining the watch face and shrugged. “It says, ‘To Serve and Protect.’”

          “That’s the watch given by the Police Department when a long time officer retires from the service.” Dave Frisco remarked walking up to Spam. “That’s Jack in there. We’ve got ourselves a murder case.”

          “Damn! Buried in your own front yard by your gardener. That’s all kinds of wrong.” Spam added.

          “Well, this ain’t a perfect world. We’ll get this guy if he’s still in our reach.” Dave continued, “I guess your job’s over. You found Jack.”

          “Yeah, I found Jack.” Spam said curtly. “Somehow I kinda wish I hadn’t. Sometimes this job sucks; and this is one of them. You tell his widow about this, will you? I’m going back to the office. I’m feeling like having some of Cassidy’s coffee and maybe going over to Jocko’s. Let me know what happens at the airport, will you?”

*********************

         Spam sat at the bar, flanked by Jocko and Cassidy. They’d placed the “Be Back Later” sign on his office door at lunch and hadn’t gone back. Spam figured work could wait until tomorrow. Right then he had a friend to remember. He had received the phone call as they were visiting. Dave Frisco knew to reach Spam at Jocko’s. Spam slowly hung the phone on the receiver and Jocko replaced it under the counter.

          “Well, it doesn’t look like we have much of a chance to get Alejandro.” Spam stated. “He didn’t go to Madrid. He booked a ticket to Montevideo, Uruguay. Seems as if the last time the death penalty was observed there was in 1905. Guess that's why all those Nazis headed for the place after the war. There won’t be any extradition.”

          “I’m so sorry, Spam.” Cassidy consoled. “What do you want to do with the check we received from Jolene? You want me to deposit it.’

          “Yeah, deposit the thing. I thought about giving it back. But, Jack would have insisted on me taking it. Send a nice bunch of flowers to the funeral, will you. I don’t think I’m gonna go. Been to too many of them. Jack would understand.”

          “Sure, Spam.” Cassidy replied.

          “I was thinking, Cassidy.”

         This worried Cassidy; Spam thinking often meant problems.

          “I was thinking about taking a vacation. I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.”

          “Oh, I don’t know Spam. Where did you have in mind?” Cassidy inquired.

          “I’ve never been to South America. I was wondering what Uruguay was like this time of year.”