Page 55 of The Happy Month
I’ve done this before, though it took a moment to remember how to correctly feed the rolls into the machine. It was quick work. I looked at 1946. I found Patrick Gill at a phone number with an address on Keystone Avenue in Culver City. He was at the same address in 1947, 1948, 1949 and 1950. Then in 1951 he had a new phone number and a new address: 410 Faring, Holmby Hills.
I looked up Ivan Melchor. He was listed at the same address, except he had a different phone number. They had separate phones. That made sense. Patrick was a lawyer. If his office called, he wouldn’t want his lover answering the phone. Among other things, it was expensive to be in the closet. That was what I’d wanted to know.I returned the boxes of fiche and hurried out of the library.
Musso & Frank is the kind of place where I feel like a real private eye. It’s dark and smoky, even though it’s been years since you could smoke in restaurants. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not breaking the rules, it’s just that it somehow still seems smoky. They should hand out fedoras at the door.
I was twenty minutes late. When I found Edwin and Jan at a booth near the front, there was a nearly empty martini glass in front of Jan.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“It’s not professional,” Jan snapped.
“It’s also L.A. and I stopped to do some research on your uncle.”
The waiter came over. He was old enough to be my father. “Can I get you a cocktail?” he asked.
“I’ll have a ginger ale.” Not what he was hoping for, but I’d had enough champagne over the weekend to last me six months.
“And you sir? Would you like another martini?”
“Yes, of course,” Jan said in a tone that suggested anyone not having two martinis at lunch was an idiot.
Edwin waved the waiter away before he could ask if Edwin wanted a drink. He kept his eyes on me, saying, “Go ahead” as soon as the waiter was gone.
“Your uncle moved into the house on Faring Road sometime late in 1950 or early 1951. The house was owned at that time by Ivan Melchor. In 1965, your uncle’s name was added to the deed. Ivan Melchor died in 1972, at which time your uncle became the sole owner of the property. There was a standing order to put flowerson Melchor’s grave for years. Your uncle paid for that. I’m guessing your uncle Patrick is gay.”
I decided to leave out the part about him feeling up the male nurses at his nursing home.
Edwin looked a bit surprised; Jan did not. He said, “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Wait,” Edwin said. “Is this why you were so set on Harmon and Coyne? You thought they’d cover this up for you?”
“They’re discreet.” He looked at me as though I’d just planted an item in theL.A.Timesabout his uncle’s sexuality.
“Given that your uncle was gay, I think it’s unlikely he killed his fiancée.”
“Really?” Jan said. “I think that makes it more likely. She probably threatened to expose him.”
I was tempted to say that my boyfriend had the same theory. Instead, I said, “Vera Korenko was brutally beaten and raped before she was strangled.”
“You don’t think a gay man could rape a woman?” Jan said. “Rape isn’t about sex it’s about violence. Isn’t that what they say?”
“I still think it’s very unlikely,” I said.
“Gay men lack morals. It would be just one more taboo to break. That makes it very likely.”
“John, cut it out,” his brother said.
That left me an opening. “I went through everything you have in storage. It’s pretty obvious that someone removed things. Your uncle had no photo albums? No framed personal photographs? No letters? No diaries? Not even an address book? Did you do it alone, Jan, or was it the two of you?”
“He did it alone,” Edwin said. “I didn’t know Uncle Patrick was gay and I wouldn’t have been party to that.”
“I did it for Mother. You know she thinks the world of him.”
“She can still think the world of him,” Edwin said, though it wasn’t a confident statement. I’m sure he knew I was gay. There seemed to be things he didn’t want to say in front of me. He shifted the topic. “Where does that leave us?”
“Would you like me to continue?”
“Of course, we want you to continue,” Jan said. “Mother wants to know what to say to him when he says he killed that girl. Are you suggesting she tell him, ‘You couldn’t have killed that girl because you’re a fag?’”
