Lover Man: An Artie Deemer Mystery by Dallas Murphy Read Free Book Online Page B

suspect me? Two hefty guys came for the cable I was sitting on. I stood up, and they took my seat away.
    The producers were heading my way in a rank, led by Jellyroll, wagging his tail. They wore those bright, expensive smiles ofgood cheer. "That's quite some dog you have there, Mr. Deemer," said Moe. "Quite some dog indeed." Larry and Curly vouched for that.
    "Just between us, Mr. Deemer, we have Barnaby Price playing Dracula. We're very excited about working with Barnaby."
    I had never heard of Barnaby Price, but I didn't say so. I nodded vigorously and enthusiastically, I hoped.
    "And
Prudence Akroyd is playing the girl."
    "Oh, great," I said, but I'd never heard of her either. It makes people nervous when you tell them you never heard of people they think are hot shit.
    "And
we're very interested in Jellyroll." Larry and Curly concurred. "Can we call you Arthur?"
    "Artie."
    "Well, Artie, we're very interested in Jellyroll. Very. Of course, we have to see some more dogs, but between us, we're
interested
. Sincerely... Are you his handler, Artie?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, between us, Artie, Samoa is paradise this time of year." Moe clapped me on the shoulder like a guy who had just gotten off a neat one at the smoker. "Say, Artie, tell me, does Jellyroll always cock his head to the side like that when you talk to him? I mean, could we count on him doing that? Regularly, I mean?"
    "If you ask him questions."
    "Then you think we could get it on film right now?"
    "Sure," I said. Samoa is paradise this time of year.
    Phyllis returned to the studio. I tried to catch her eye for a sign, but I should have known she'd give none while I was talking to the bosses.
    "Could we get this, please?" asked Moe to the studio in general, and he seemed frightened some technician would tell him no for reasons he couldn't understand.
    "Quiet, please," someone called, and Moe lookeded relieved. Camera people took their places.
    Jellyroll sat center stage in the hot lights like a lamb for the slaughter. I stood out of the camera range, and Jellyroll pivoted to watch me. His handler. I began to ask him questions, nonsense mostly, since it's the intonation, not the words, that counts. He cocked his head from side to side with each question. His ears were pricked, his eyes bright and expectant. The producers hugged each other with glee.
    "Do you want to go to Samoa?" I asked Jellyroll. That killed them.
    Moe took my arm and escorted me to the door. Larry and Curly pumped my hand. Then they all clapped Jellyroll on the sides. He sniffed their shoes for a clue to their identity.
    I waited for Phyllis out in the hall. The receptionist ushered Vinnie and Roger into the studio. "You can
bank
on Last Hurrah," said Vinnie as he passed me. Phyllis came out as Vinnie went in.
    "I got somebody. Her name's Marsha. She'll meet you in the lobby near security. I told her to look for Jellyroll."
    "Thanks a lot, Phyllis."
    "Is there going to be a funeral or anything like that?"
    "I don't know. Her father's in California. I guess that's up to him."
    "Call me if you hear." She kissed my cheek in a warm, friendly way, then patted Jellyroll's head and said, "So long, you sweet little gold mine."
    Marsha called me at home at two o'clock to say the prints were ready. She phoned from the subway at Times Square and offered to deliver them anywhere I wanted. I asked her to meet me at the Greek coffee shop on Broadway at 104th.
    On the way out, I took the elevator to the basement and went looking for Fidel, the super. He wasn't in the furnace room or the laundry room. I heard salsa from his workshop and followed the beat. Fidel was glaring at an electric motor he had clampedin a vise. He held a long screwdriver as if it were a bayonet with which he was about to kill the motor. A short, balding man with a coarse brush of a mustache, Fidel had been superintendent of this building for thirty-five years. He could do everything, weld and plaster, he could repair air conditioners and