I spent all Monday and most of today trying to reach Liz. First to apologize for calling her when I was drunk last week, second to fill her in on the peanuts revelation. Whoever this murdering bastard was, he seemed to have a fetish for salted-in-the-shells. A call to Reggie’s wife confirmed that her poor husband not only never ate the things, he was allergic to them.
Anyway, Liz wasn’t answering her phone in L.A., so I gave up and went to the Double Play late in the afternoon to see Chumpo and catch the start of the Giants game in first place Philly. As I mentioned last time, Chumpo didn’t carry Salty Dog Nuts. He hadn’t even heard of them. But while I sat there, drank a Hamm’s and rooted for Mike McCormick to keep the damn ball in the park for a change, Chumpo dialed one of his peanut wholesaler friends and left a message to try and get more info.
“Can’t say I remember Reggie talking to anyone here the night he bought it,” he said, wiping the bar down, “and nobody eating from their own bag of nuts, neither.”
“How about the day I cleaned the newspaper and those peanut shells out of that booth?”
“That neither too.”
Then the bar phone rang, and he grabbed the receiver. Said “Yup…Yup…Yup…Okay” and hung it up.
“So the Salty Dog Nut factory’s in Ohio. You can buy ’em as far west as Colorado, but nowhere on the west coast.”
“Well, that’s interesting.”
“Sure. Our killer could be a traveling salesman.”
* * *
After the Giants were done looking terrible again and I had four beers in me, I wobbled back to my place. Paused on the outside steps.
The living room light was on. I heard the floor creak. Climbed carefully to the door and burst inside.
Liz sat at a typewriter in a robe, cigarette in mouth and hair up in a towel. Shrieked like I had stabbed her.
“Damn it, Snappy! Can’t you knock??”
“I don’t knock on my own place.”
“You mean OURS. Oh, who cares…” She started pounding on the keys. A legal pad filled with scribbles sat next to the typewriter. “I need to have this draft finished tonight, so don’t bug me.”
“A draft of what?”
“What do you think? My exclusive for the Herald! Y’know, on the Mayor Christopher Candlestick swindle. Thank you so much for that tip, by the way—” She popped up for a second to smooch my cheek, dropped back down. “You’re a doll.”
I had no clue what to say. While thinking of something, I headed for my gin bottle.
S.F. 010 000 101 – 3 9 0
PHI 005 010 02x – 8 13 1
W-Roberts L-McCormick HRS: Speake, Bowman GWRBI-Bowman
Well, McCormick couldn’t keep the ball in the park, specifically against Bob Bowman, who hit one to Connie Mack Heaven in the 3rd with two aboard. Four runs down for the Giants is like nine runs down for any other team in the league, and Robin Roberts laid them down quietly in this gentle night.
L.A. 000 211 010 – 5 16 0
PIT 100 010 100 – 3 8 1
W-Williams L-Law SV-Roebuck HR: Pignitano GWRBI-Zimmer
Three wins in a row for the Dodgers? Next thing you’ll tell me is that the injured Johnny Roseboro isn’t being missed. Well, with “Joe Pig” popping homers, he isn’t.
CHI 400 021 002 – 9 14 0
CIN 200 030 002 – 7 10 0
W-Drabowsky L-Schmidt SV-Elston HRS: Moryn, Banks, Bailey, Robinson GWRBI-Banks
And now it’s Cincy’s turn to not buy a win. Moe and Willard get knocked around pretty bad, and the Reds get close but never catch the Cubbies after spotting them four quick runs.
STL 000 100 000 – 1 7 2
MIL 100 000 32x – 6 7 0
W-Rush L-Jones HR: Logan GWRBI-Crandall
Close game until the Braves get bored and score three times in the 7th, helped by Boyer and Katt errors, to hand Unlucky Sam Jones another awful loss. Against the stylings of Bob Rush, the Cards are basically helpless.
NYY 000 210 020 000 2 – 7 13 2
K.C. 002 010 020 000 1 – 6 10 1
W-Ford L-Daley HRS: Skowron, Howard, Berra, Tuttle, Power GWRBI-Berra
The Yanks make themselves right at home in Missouri, winning a 13-inning thriller on a Mantle double and Yogi blast, after the A’s had four chances to end the game against Ford and couldn’t do it. Bob Cerv is the goat, going 0-for-6 and whiffing his first four times up, all with men on base. Still, K.C. played their best game in a while, with Fielding Cerv robbing Howard of a second homer, and Woodie Held smoking Kubek at the plate from center field in the 9th.
BAL 700 010 512 – 16 20 0
CLE 211 031 001 – 9 14 0
W-Portocarrero L-Woodeshick HRS: Triandos, Nieman, Colavito-2 GWRBI-Miranda
Make that 30 runs for the Birds in two games, including seven in the 1st, and they leap back over Chicago into second place. Please continue to not knock the Rock: Colavito has hit five homers in two days and now leads the league with 15.
BOS 001 001 010 – 3 7 0
DET 001 200 002 – 5 7 3
W-Wehmeier L-Monboquette HRS: Gernert, Bolling-2 GWRBI-Bolling
Frank Bolling is the hero, putting the Tigers ahead in the 4th and winning it in the 9th with a pair of 2-run shots off Monbo. The Sox manage to lose two of their three catchers in this one, White for eight games and Daley for two, and will have Lou Berberet strap on the gear for the first time.
WAS 023 000 000 – 5 11 1
CHX 000 100 000 -1 5 1
W-Clevenger L-Donovan HR: Zauchin SV-Hyde GWRBI-Zauchin
Chicago’s nice little win streak is now a distant memory, and they’re losing at home to the Senators. Tex Clevenger gets his first win, and Norm Zauchin incredibly hits a homer.
National League through Tuesday, May 27
American League through Tuesday, May 27