The Heavenly Gates - Part 2
Part 2 of 3. The middle section is dedicated to 'Dee-Jay,' our middle child because it's the middle section - and as the poem goes, "The middle child is full of grace."
... One thing about being a private investigator - you don't always know when your next case will come along. If you want to use the word 'employed' to describe how I spend my days, you can also use the prefix 'self' or 'un.' Most days, you could pick the latter.
That's why when a week earlier, a sweet young kid shows up on my doorstep sporting a look like someone'd just told her Santa Claus was dead and her hand clenched around three $50 bills, I knew I'd be in business for at least a few more days.
"Are you Mister Divine, the private eye?"
"That's what it says on the door, sister. What ails ya?"
She collapsed in a chair and buried her face in her hands. "Mr. Divine, you've got to help me! I've no where else to turn!"
"Come on, take it easy now. Just what seems to be the problem, Miss ...?
"Thomas. Mary Ellen Thomas. I want you to find someone. It's Jeff! He's my brother and if - "
She began sniffling. I walked into the bathroom and came back with a roll of toilet paper. It was only one-ply, but she didn't seem to mind.
"And if you can't help me, I just don't know what I'll do! Oh please, Mr. Divine, say you'll help me!"
She was in pretty bad shape, poor kid. Tears staining those rosy red cheeks, shoulders racked with sobbing and a runny nose to boot. I felt sorry for her. She began to pull herself together. Again she pleaded, "Can you help me, Mr. Divine?"
I took a long thoughtful pull on my Lucky. "That depends Miss. Are those three red bills for me?"
Against my better judgement, I asked if she'd thought about going to the police.
"No, I couldn't do that. He's in trouble. I don't know what kind but it might be drugs."
I didn't bother to pursue the merits of telling her to fill out a Missing Persons report with the police. After all, $150 was a hundred and fifty bucks.
It turned out to be a deprogramming job. I'd been getting a lot of that kind of work lately. It was a good thing too. Thanks to the sexual revolution of the sixties and new divorce laws of the mid-seventies, a lot of us private dicks had been going out of business and ending up as security guards.
It looked like a pretty standard deprogramming scam. The same old story. Mixed up kid. Lonely. Probably into drugs. Gets involved with a bunch who promise him love, home, family and eternal paradise. The kid denounces his friends and family and then gets put to work hustling flowers on downtown street-corners. It had all the classic signs. Problem was, his sister didn't know what cult or where he was.
"The last time I saw him, he looked so strange."
"How do you mean, Miss Thomas?"
"Well ... different from before. Now he's polite and always smiling."
"There's nothing wrong with that Miss. I've been known to say 'please' and crack a smile once in a while myself."
"Oh it's not just that. It's like there's nothing behind the smile. He's like a robot. It's not the Jeff I grew up with. ... Oh, I know it all sounds like nonsense Mr. Divine, you've got to believe me. I just know he's in trouble."
She was crying again. I went over and patted her on the back. Something in my gut told me she was a good kid. Something in my wallet told me I could help her out.
"There there now dollface. You just leave it up to me. I get these kind of cases all the time and there's no problem with the deprogramming end of it. It'll cost you, mind you. It's a risky and dangerous business from where I stand. As far as the law's concerned, technically it's not much different from kidnapping. But that's my problem. Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything."
"Oh gosh, Mr. Divine, how can I ever thank you?"
"Well, those three fifties would be a start."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the day Delores Da Lovely showed up I hadn't made any progress in the case other than spend the $150 retainer Mary Ellen Thomas had given me. I had nothing to show for it. I had called in a few IOU's from the boys in blue downtown and filed a Missing Persons report. So far, they hadn't been able to turn up anything.
I was beginning to suspect they never would when Delores Da Lovely sauntered into my office and gave me my first real break in the case.
The boys downtown in Missing Persons couldn't come up with anything on Jeffrey Thomas - but with the name Delores Da Lovely, they hit the jackpot. She hadn't even bothered to use an alias when she had come to see me. After following through on my hunch, I found out that she actually did go by the highly unlikely, but all too appropriate cognomen of 'Da Lovely.'
Finding out who she worked for, I put two and 2 toogether and was pretty sure that the wonderfully-named Miss Da Lovely could lead me right to Jeff Thomas. She had done everything but serve him to me on a tray.
I would be able to wind this case up a lot sooner than I had expected and get started on an early weekend. After Jeff Thomas' deprogramming treatment, I would need it. I grabbed my hat and headed out the door.
... tune in next week for the final installment of The Heavenly Gates - 'Part 3, The Final Installment."
... One thing about being a private investigator - you don't always know when your next case will come along. If you want to use the word 'employed' to describe how I spend my days, you can also use the prefix 'self' or 'un.' Most days, you could pick the latter.
That's why when a week earlier, a sweet young kid shows up on my doorstep sporting a look like someone'd just told her Santa Claus was dead and her hand clenched around three $50 bills, I knew I'd be in business for at least a few more days.
"Are you Mister Divine, the private eye?"
"That's what it says on the door, sister. What ails ya?"
She collapsed in a chair and buried her face in her hands. "Mr. Divine, you've got to help me! I've no where else to turn!"
"Come on, take it easy now. Just what seems to be the problem, Miss ...?
"Thomas. Mary Ellen Thomas. I want you to find someone. It's Jeff! He's my brother and if - "
She began sniffling. I walked into the bathroom and came back with a roll of toilet paper. It was only one-ply, but she didn't seem to mind.
"And if you can't help me, I just don't know what I'll do! Oh please, Mr. Divine, say you'll help me!"
She was in pretty bad shape, poor kid. Tears staining those rosy red cheeks, shoulders racked with sobbing and a runny nose to boot. I felt sorry for her. She began to pull herself together. Again she pleaded, "Can you help me, Mr. Divine?"
I took a long thoughtful pull on my Lucky. "That depends Miss. Are those three red bills for me?"
Against my better judgement, I asked if she'd thought about going to the police.
"No, I couldn't do that. He's in trouble. I don't know what kind but it might be drugs."
I didn't bother to pursue the merits of telling her to fill out a Missing Persons report with the police. After all, $150 was a hundred and fifty bucks.
It turned out to be a deprogramming job. I'd been getting a lot of that kind of work lately. It was a good thing too. Thanks to the sexual revolution of the sixties and new divorce laws of the mid-seventies, a lot of us private dicks had been going out of business and ending up as security guards.
It looked like a pretty standard deprogramming scam. The same old story. Mixed up kid. Lonely. Probably into drugs. Gets involved with a bunch who promise him love, home, family and eternal paradise. The kid denounces his friends and family and then gets put to work hustling flowers on downtown street-corners. It had all the classic signs. Problem was, his sister didn't know what cult or where he was.
"The last time I saw him, he looked so strange."
"How do you mean, Miss Thomas?"
"Well ... different from before. Now he's polite and always smiling."
"There's nothing wrong with that Miss. I've been known to say 'please' and crack a smile once in a while myself."
"Oh it's not just that. It's like there's nothing behind the smile. He's like a robot. It's not the Jeff I grew up with. ... Oh, I know it all sounds like nonsense Mr. Divine, you've got to believe me. I just know he's in trouble."
She was crying again. I went over and patted her on the back. Something in my gut told me she was a good kid. Something in my wallet told me I could help her out.
"There there now dollface. You just leave it up to me. I get these kind of cases all the time and there's no problem with the deprogramming end of it. It'll cost you, mind you. It's a risky and dangerous business from where I stand. As far as the law's concerned, technically it's not much different from kidnapping. But that's my problem. Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything."
"Oh gosh, Mr. Divine, how can I ever thank you?"
"Well, those three fifties would be a start."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the day Delores Da Lovely showed up I hadn't made any progress in the case other than spend the $150 retainer Mary Ellen Thomas had given me. I had nothing to show for it. I had called in a few IOU's from the boys in blue downtown and filed a Missing Persons report. So far, they hadn't been able to turn up anything.
I was beginning to suspect they never would when Delores Da Lovely sauntered into my office and gave me my first real break in the case.
The boys downtown in Missing Persons couldn't come up with anything on Jeffrey Thomas - but with the name Delores Da Lovely, they hit the jackpot. She hadn't even bothered to use an alias when she had come to see me. After following through on my hunch, I found out that she actually did go by the highly unlikely, but all too appropriate cognomen of 'Da Lovely.'
Finding out who she worked for, I put two and 2 toogether and was pretty sure that the wonderfully-named Miss Da Lovely could lead me right to Jeff Thomas. She had done everything but serve him to me on a tray.
I would be able to wind this case up a lot sooner than I had expected and get started on an early weekend. After Jeff Thomas' deprogramming treatment, I would need it. I grabbed my hat and headed out the door.
... tune in next week for the final installment of The Heavenly Gates - 'Part 3, The Final Installment."
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