Who in Hell Is Wanda Fuca? Read Online Free PDF

How come?"
    "Mrs. Paultz is retiring. Wants to move down to Arizona to be closer to
her kids. She's selling the house. They'll tear the old place down for
sure."
    "Sorry to hear that."
    "I don't know what the hell we're gonna do, Leo. There's not many old
places - " He was about to lapse into maudlin. I didn't have it in me.
    "Gotta go, Buddy. You take care now, okay?"
    "Come on, Leo, stick around. Things are just starting. Nearly Normal
Norman will be in in a bit. The whole gang'll be here. Come on," he whine.
    I swilled my Coke, fished out the cherry, ate it, and threw the stem back in
the glass. "Gotta go, Buddy."
    "You'll be back." He'd changed again. His pouched face was
suddenly hard. He was beginning to slur.
    "I don't think so, Buddy." He smiled and moved his head up and
down. His eyes failed to keep pace with the movement.
    "I don't mean today. I just mean you'll be back." He pointed down
at his feet. "One of these nights when I've slid down - when I'm huggin'
the rail with my pants full of shit - I'll look over to the side and you'll be
there. Don't doubt it. You'll be there, Leo." He turned back to the bar. I
headed out.
    Probably because I was so busy ruminating on the likelihood of Buddy's
prophecy coming true, I got sloppy. I have my own little security system for my
combination office-apartment. Years before, in a drunken rage, I'd tried to
kick the door in one night when I'd lost my keys. The door held fast, but
somewhere in the locking mechanism something had snapped. Since that night,
whenever the door is locked from the outside, the handle tilts violently to the
right. Locked from the inside, it stays straight up.
    I was three steps inside my apartment before I snapped to the fact that I
wasn't alone. Great cumulus clouds of cigarette smoke swam in the sunlight that
angled in through the front windows. Frankie Ortega was leaning all the way
back in my white leather recliner, working on his second beer.
    Frankie was a little guy. No more than five-six or so. I'd always thought he
looked like Cab Calloway. Thick, black processed hair combed straight back. A
bold, wide mouth accented by a pencil-thin mustache clinging precisely to the
outline of his upper lip. He was sporting a fawn-colored suit, a bright yellow
tie, and two-tone loafers, brown and white.
    "Relax, Leo," he said. I relaxed. I was unarmed. In spite of the
fact that he must be pushing sixty by now, Frankie Ortega was not somebody I
had any desire to take on. Whatever he may have lacked in size, he more than
made up for in speed and ruthlessness. For the past thirty-five years he had
handled Tim Flood's problems without so much as wrinkling his suits.
    "Make yourself at home, Frankie." When in doubt, try irony.
    "Thanks, Leo. I knew you wouldn't mind." He smiled and pushed the
handle forward, bringin himself to an upright, seated position. He stood and
smoothed out his slacks. "Nice quiet place you've got here."
    "You looking to sublease, Frankie?"
    "Still the comedian, eh, Leo. You really ought to get over that, you
know. I told you before, there's no long-term future in it."
    "Other than career counseling, did you have some other purpose for
stopping by to see me today, Frankie?"
    "You know I been looking for you." It was a statement.
    "I might have heard a rumor to that effect," I said.
    "You know if I'm looking for a guy, I'm gonna find him, right?"
    I didn't feel any great need to answer. His ego didn't need the boost.
    He walked over and stood too close tome. He kept his hands in his pockets,
letting his cologne grab me instead.
    "Tim needs to see you," he said evenly.
    "So where is he?" I said, looking around the apartment. "I'm
in the book. W for Waterman or I for Investigations." He shook his head
sadly and started for the door.
    "Tim don't get around so good anymore, Leo," he said as he passed.
    "I'm kind of busy right now, Frankie. Tell Tim - "
    "Dinner at seven at the house. We'll be expecting you."
    He opened the door and stepped