The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,79
booze and parties put me in some sort of bubble because I had no idea any of this was going on. After all, when you start drinking when you’re fourteen . . . well, it caused me to miss most of my teens, and the majority of my twenties was a complete blur. I was so hoping to catch up during my fast-approaching thirties.
“But you and Hetty are so close.”
“Now. Back then we hated each other. I don’t think you remember, but your aunt Hetty was a real looker when she was your age. Some believes she was prettier than me, if you can believe that.” She flounced her hair, and smacked her ruby lips.
“Then how did she hook up with Carla when she had Dickey on the line?”
“Dickey dropped her for Carla. Not only were they sneaking around on me, but Carla had some other guy in her closet who thought he was her one and only. But here’s the thing, Carla was a true dream weaver. It was hard to separate fact from her latest fantasy.”
I figured this was the same guy Jade told me about, the missing Carlo Ponti. Things were beginning to add up.
“You know who this other guy was?” I asked.
“Carla was good at keeping secrets. A real closed door whenever anybody got too close.”
“How does Hetty fit into all of this? Into Dickey’s murder?”
“Don’t know exactly. That’s where it gets a little sketchy. I don’t really think Hetty popped Dickey, not in my heart, but who’s to say what’s in her heart. I know losing this lifestyle and this business would be devastating to Hetty. She already lost one dream because of Dickey. I’m sure she doesn’t want to lose another one.”
“Do you think Carla loved Hetty?”
Babe shook her head. “Carla was a player. I don’t think the woman was capable of love. I think the only reason she took up with Hetty was to keep her quiet. It’s like this, doll, Carla didn’t want Mr. Jealous to find out about her and Dickey, and she knew Hetty would blab it to everybody. Hetty can be viciously vindictive. So Carla comes on to Hetty, and Hetty, who told me she never dug making it in the first place, falls head over heels for Carla. She was giddy in love with the woman. Couldn’t wait to move to Amsterdam. Like that was ever going to happen.”
“Why didn’t you believe it?”
“Because I saw Carla and Dickey doing the lip tango while standing on my front stoop.”
“When was this?”
“When Dickey and me lived in Nob Hill in San Francisco. A big fancy house with a garden I loved. You remember that house, don’t ya?”
I nodded even though I’d only seen it once. Aunt Babe hadn’t been very social back then.
“Anyway, I’d been roosting in Chicago for a Noir film festival and caught the earlier flight home so I could fly first class. My flight only had economy seats left and a doll like me can’t do economy. Ruins the image. Anyway, when I couldn’t get Dickey on the phone I dialed up Federico. The man is a saint. He was busy that morning, but told me if I could wait a little while he’d send Jimmy over. Back then, Jimmy was considered an associate, not quite part of the Family, and he idolized Federico like a big brother. They were always together. Jimmy would do anything Federico asked him to do. Anyway, I told him that was cool. To take his time. What did I care? At least I was getting a ride home.”
She stopped to drink tea, and to light a thin menthol cigarette, blowing the smoke over my head, getting that calm look on her face that a real smoker had whenever they lit up during a stressful moment. I inhaled the perfume, envying her discipline. She had been smoking three cigarettes a day for the past ten years. A feat I could only admire. I’d been a two-pack-a-day kind of girl, sometimes three. Anything short of that would be impossible for me.
Therefore, I didn’t smoke.
“So that’s when you saw Dickey and Carla. From the car window?”
“Exactly. Believe me, that woman was not a lesbian. Not the way she was making whoopee with my Dickey. They must have been out there like that for a good fifteen minutes. Long enough so I could snap some pictures. Dickey liked to play me and deny his affairs. I figured with the pics I could rake him over