Case #10: The Widow
Date: June 20, 2002
Location: Los Angeles, CA and Miami, FL
Getting back in the private detective business
is like riding a bicycle. You never forget
how to do it. I had stolen enough bikes as
a kid, so I knew how to ride.
One thing that took me a while to learn was
to place an ad for a secretary in the local
paper. Employment agencies would send anybody
left on their shelf whether they could type,
speak English, or understand they were supposed
to show up on time. Using my own judgment
seemed to garner better results.
Mornings were the busiest time at the office.
Most clients came early, before they got
cold feet. It was the chatty Leslie who came
into my office that morning around nine to
tell me we had a visitor. Leslie was on the
plump side, pathologically into horoscopes
and numerology, and was pleasantly punctual.
"Your wife is in the outer office, Mr.
Casino," she announced, her eyes dancing
with excitement.
"I don't have a wife," I said.
"I think I would have remembered."
"What do I do with her?" whispered
Leslie, a confused look on her face.
"I hope you'll see me, Johnny,"
said a meek voice behind her.
I looked up and saw a plain woman in her
mid-forties staring at me from behind a pair
of large glasses. She looked like a spinster
secretary or accountant in her gray dress.
Her straight brown hair touched her shoulders,
but didn't have any style to it.
"What can I do for you?" I asked,
standing up.
"Johnny," she said, her eyes wide.
"Yes?"
She studied me for a few seconds. "You're
taller than I remember."
"I'm sorry, lady, but I'm not the guy
you're looking for."
"Yes you are. I'd know you anywhere,
even after all these years."
"I'm still not your husband."
"I have our wedding certificate."
She gently pulled a document out of her large
purse and showed it to me. It was a wedding
certificate from the Miami Beach District
Court dated June 14, 1981, signed by a Deputy
Clerk.
"We could only afford a civil ceremony,
but we are married, Johnny. It says so right
here. Where did you go that night?"
she said with a catch in her voice. She stared
at me through those glasses and waited for
an answer.
......Continued.
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