Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  Matt shook his head. “I’ve studied the books from every possible scenario and there’s just no way to make a decent living at a dying business. I’m not sure where people are going for their investigation needs these days, but I suspect, like everything else, that the Internet has cut into a lot of businesses. I noticed that two more music stores closed in the past few months. It just makes sense. People can buy what they need on the web and have it delivered right to their door. Sellers on the web don’t have the expenses that a brick and mortar business has. They don’t have the overhead to contend with and I thought it would be just a matter of time before it affected our business as well.”

  “You’re lucky you had the connections at the police department that you did,” Chris remarked. “A lot of times, it turns out to be more who you know than what you know.”

  “It helped that I’d worked there before and didn’t burn my bridges when I left,” Matt said. “Kevin was very fair about it. “I’ll spend eight weeks in the academy and get out on the street shortly after that. Chris, we’ll finally get some decent insurance coverage, and a retirement plan. I know Dad and grandpa enjoyed what they did, but it was hard to see them after they retired, having to pinch their pennies or go without. I want more for us. Yes, I’m sure this is the right thing to do.”

  “We’ll be just fine,” Chris agreed. “And I’m sure you’ll make one hell of a policemen.”

  “I sure hope so,” Matt said. “I’ll have to spend the rest of this month winding down the business. I can still take an occasional case, but only if I can conclude it by the end of the month. It’s going to be tough on that last day when I close the office and lock the door.”

  “But you own that office,” Chris said. “I remember you telling me that your grandfather, Matt bought it outright all those years ago as a hedge against inflation. There’s no reason you can’t hang onto it for as long as you want. You could even rent it out to a lawyer or an accountant.”

  “Or a music store,” Matt said. “An internet music store, anyway.”

  Chris laughed. “How’d you like to call the kids in for lunch?”

  You know,” Matt said. “I always thought about the day when Nicky would join me in the business. Looks like I can stop thinking about that now. He’s going to have it better than I did. I’ll make sure of that.” Matt opened the kitchen door and called his children in for lunch. Between bites of his sandwich and spoonfuls of soup, Matt looked at Nicky and tried to imagine what his future held for him.

  Matt spent the next three weeks tying up loose ends and seeing that all his creditors had been paid in full. There was no way he was going to end his family business owing money to anyone. During that time he’d taken on only two small cases. One case was the standard tail job for a wife worried about her cheating husband and other case involved insurance fraud and a guy who seemed to be too injured to go to work, but not too injured to build himself a new porch, cement footings and all. Both cases ended in a satisfactory conclusion for the clients but it was a bittersweet victory for Matt when he submitted his last bill to his last client. He always thought he’d go out on a high note, with a high profile case, instead of on two low notes. It did, however, reinforce Matt’s decision to close the business and become a cop.

  On his last day in the office, Matt emptied both desks, cleaned out his closet and removed the pictures that had hung on his walls for decades. Seventy years of his family’s private investigator business boiled down to just two cardboard boxes that would fit in the back of his car. Matt decided to leave the furniture where it was in case some future tenant might need it. He paused at the door, looked back once more and blinked several times. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. Sitting at his former desk he could make out the figure of his great-grandfather Matt sitting there in his felt porkpie hat and pinstriped suit, taking care of business as usual. He looked over at Benny’s old desk and saw his grandpa, Clay, who was talking to his father at the other desk. On the leather sofa were Matt’s parents, Elliott and Gloria, just sitting there, passing the time of day with each other. The strange part of this whole hallucination was that all four of these people were middle-aged, as they would have appeared in their prime. For a brief instant, Benny peeked out from behind Clay and waved at Matt. It was a surreal vision and when he blinked again, all five of them disappeared, like wisps of windblown smoke, leaving bare, empty furniture in their places. Matt smiled nostalgically and locked up for the last time. In two days he’d report for duty with the L.A.P.D. Hopefully he’d still be able to use much of what he’d learned as a private eye.