by Nick James
“What about Noah Denton? I stopped by the hospital to see him, but they didn’t have a listing for him. I hope he was released rather than his condition worsening.”
“He was released. Just now he is ahhh, shall we say recuperating at home. Truth of the matter is we really can’t afford to have him back. I just got off the line with Virgil Allan, the Saunders family sounds like they want to pursue the harassment suit, not sure how they can, but we certainly don’t need that hanging out there. To bring Noah back in after what’s happened, the timing could not be worse, it would just be inviting trouble, lots of trouble, on all sorts of fronts.”
“And the acquisitions team?”
“Ongoing,” Bennett said then changed the subject. “So you’re back at full speed on Montcreff?”
“I think so, if not a hundred percent I’m certainly back to ninety and improving by the hour.”
“That’s the spirit, can do,” Bennett said and moved his fist in a sort of a go-for-the-gold gesture.
“I would like to show you something, Ben if I could take just a moment of your time.”
“Show me something?”
“With the Montcreff files.”
“Oh God, the last thing we need is a problem with Morris Montcreff,” Bennett said getting up from his desk, a little more red-faced than a moment before.
He followed Bobby over to his office. Bobby produced a slight limp along the way.
“You must have really gotten banged up.”
“Like all of us, the older I get the recovery time seems to just get longer and longer,” Bobby joked then opened his office door to reveal his desk buried under files with more files opened and lined up along the wall.
“Mr. Montcreff has me going over these files one at a time, of course, there’s all sorts of cross-referencing. He seems to be happy with the job I’m doing.”
“Thank God, he’s the last person we need a problem with,” Bennett said and rolled his eyes.
“I have to report in to him at the end of every day. What I’m wondering is, would it be all right if I appropriated one of those vacant offices the acquisition guys were in? At least for the immediate future, the cramped space here is really slowing me down and, well with Noah not returning anytime soon it would really help get me up to speed.”
“You’re calling Montcreff at the end of the day?”
“Every day,” Bobby said, and then limped over and added a grimace as he sat down behind his desk.
“Oh, for God’s sake, I suppose so. Why not? It’s not like we have people clamoring to get in there, yes, yes go ahead by all means. Although, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make too large a production out of moving. Feelings are going to be a bit raw around here for the foreseeable future,” Bennett said then nodded as he raised his eyebrows suggesting just a little understanding between the two of them.
“I’ll move this evening, once most people have gone home.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bobby’s cellphone rang early that same afternoon. “Hello.”
“Dude, it’s Brad.”
“Hi Brad, any news?”
“You mean from your lady friend who worked at County Records or just in general?”
Bobby sat up in his chair. “So you saw her, talked with her.”
“Yeah, Christine. Right? I’m telling ya, it took about five seconds and she had the rocks stuffed in her pocket. I’ve seen it too many times to count. She’ll be back, desperate for more. Well, unless they catch her, in which case her ass is just out of there. Nice looking lady by the way.”
“Yeah, she is. That’s good news Brad, thanks, I appreciate…”
“Hold on man, hold on. You said, you know, like you were going to cover me for the next time I see her. I was planning to be there again tomorrow. In fact, we more or less set it up.”
“Yeah, I can do that, just that I’m sort of busy for a bit, maybe later tonight we could get together.”
“You want me to call you?” Bobby detected a hint of desperation in Brad’s voice.
“Yeah, tell you what, give me a call about eight, I should be free by then. Oh, and Brad, thanks, nice work.”
* * *
Bobby waited until just about everyone had left before he moved what little he had into one of the vacant offices. Actually it was just his computer, the stack of files he hadn’t bothered to return to the file room and a few things from his desk. He took up residence in an office three times the size of the one he just left. He removed the key from the lock, then thought about it and grabbed the keys from the other two offices and put them in his pocket. He locked his door then hurried to the elevator before some overworked ninety-hour-a-week person asked him what he thought he was doing.
On the way home he had copies made of all the keys, stopped at an ATM to get cash for Brad then went home, poured himself a bourbon and contemplated what he should do about Noah Denton.
Brad phoned about an hour later. “When can we meet?” he asked by way of a greeting.
“I’m just finishing up going over these files,” Bobby said draining the last of the bourbon. “How ‘bout an hour, same place.”
“That park?”
“Yeah.”
“See you there,” Brad said and hung up.
Brad was waiting for Bobby when he pulled alongside the curb. He’d been leaning against the railing overlooking Ramsey Hill, staring out into the distance. He’d turned at the sound of Bobby closing his car door, then hurried across the lawn and cut through the geraniums once more before Bobby had stepped onto the sidewalk.
“You keep cutting through those flowers like that there won’t be any left,” Bobby said.
Brad looked confused. “Huh?”
“So it went okay today?”
“Yeah, rough bunch of folks taking that freedom walk. She was the best looking of all of them, spotted her right away. Called her name, she gave me a look like she should know me, but wasn’t sure. I just told her we’d partied together a couple of times and she didn’t so much as blink. Held out a couple of rocks and like I said she grabbed ‘em and couldn’t stuff them in her pocket fast enough.”
“You didn’t mention me, did you?”
“I thought you told me not to. Was I supposed to tell her?”
“No, don’t mention me, ever. Think she’ll be back?”
“Believe me, I know the type, she’ll figure some way to use that shit. Then she’ll be up half the night wishing the clock would tick faster. She’ll skip breakfast, rush out on her morning walk and I won’t be there.”
“What?”
“I plan to be meeting her at noon, she’ll pick up her pace as soon as she sees me. Believe me, I know how to work this. She’s wired and already off the track. Give it another day or two and they’ll throw her ass out of there and she won’t care one bit. You just trust old Brad, here. Now what do you have for your buddy doing all the heavy lifting?”
Bobby casually glanced around, held out his hand for Brad to shake and palmed the cash.
Brad smiled, slapped Bobby on the shoulder and said, “Thanks, man I’m going to enjoy this one.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It began raining sometime after midnight and continued through the morning. Bobby was in early, poring over the stack of Montcreff files in his new office. He left the office twice for a cup of coffee and was aware both times of heads turning, but he didn’t respond and no one dared ask. He worked through the noon hour.
It was still raining in the early afternoon when Bennett Hinz stuck his head in the office door as he knocked. “Could you spare a couple of minutes, Bobby?”
“Sure, everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, just need your help in calming some jittery nerves.” Hinz said then lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “I’ve got Sawyer and Allan in my office, they’re worried about Montcreff.”
“Be happy to help,” Bobby said then grimaced for added effect as he stood from the desk and visibly limped into Hinz
’s office.
Bennett closed the door behind them and indicated the couch, “I think that might be the most comfortable place for you.”
“Ben was just telling us about your accident, Wyoming was it?” Virgil Allan asked.
“Close, Montana actually. A little town called Beaver Creek, I had an elderly uncle pass away. God, there can’t be more than a dozen cars in the entire county and wouldn’t you know I found the one that ran the stop sign.”
“Hit and run was it?” Charlie Sawyer asked, then exchanged a quick glance with Allan.
Bobby nodded, repeated his rehearsed lines and played his part beautifully until he changed the subject. “Ben mentioned you had some concerns about Morris Montcreff.”
“Concern might be too strong a term,” Allan said. “I don’t believe we have to tell you how important he is to this firm. Now with Noah Denton, oh, how should I say, otherwise detained, it’s a very delicate situation.”
“Indeed it is. I was in touch with Noah while he was hospitalized,” Bobby said, suggesting he was the only person from the firm who could be bothered. “I was planning to visit him at home this evening. Of course, Mr. Montcreff has required me to check in with him at the end of every day.”
“So we understand, exactly what does that entail?”
Nothing I plan to tell any of you. “Not much, just letting him know which files I’ve reviewed, making sure he doesn’t have any concerns. All fairly routine, actually.”
“I wonder if we shouldn’t be part of that conversation,” Sawyer said.
“I certainly don’t have a problem with that. Although it might be a good idea if you called Mr. Montcreff in advance, you know how he can be.” Bobby’s suggestion seemed to stifle any further conversation in that direction.
* * *
Late that afternoon Bobby called Noah Denton’s home. After three or four rings a pleasant sounding voice answered, “Denton residence.”
“Is this Cori?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Cori, this is Bobby Custer from the firm. I’m calling to see how things are going.”
“How nice to hear from you, Bobby. How are things? Well, he seems to be more unpleasant than usual. Difficult as it might be to determine that.”
“I was wondering if I might stop by early this evening, maybe a little after six?”
“I’d certainly love the company, if you can stand him you’re more than welcome. He sequesters himself up in his office on the third floor every day until late at night.”
“I’ll plan on swinging by, looking forward to seeing you again, Cori.”
“It will be nice to have someone sane in the house for a change,” she said and hung up.
Bobby returned his stack of Montcreff files to the file room before he left for Denton’s home. The file room was empty and the stacks of files on the desk waiting to be refiled were diminished by a good two thirds. The ring of keys to the file drawers lay on the desk and Bobby used it to open the appropriate Montcreff drawer and replace the files he’d returned. He pulled another accordion folder from the drawer, then quickly stuffed a handful of files off the desk into the folder, set the keys back on the desk and walked out.
He phoned Morris Montcreff a few minutes later.
“Yes.”
“Bobby Custer, Mr. Montcreff just checking in.”
“What do you have for me?”
“I guess the good news is nothing, really. Everything I’ve reviewed today seemed in order. I can tell you I have an appointment to see Noah Denton early this evening at his home. Actually I plan on leaving shortly.”
“I’d like to hear about that, in detail,” Montcreff said. “Any word on when he’s expected to return?”
“Actually, quite the opposite, I’m afraid. I asked the same thing when I spoke to the partners, Hinz, Sawyer and Allan earlier today but they didn’t seem too interested. They thought that under the circumstances Mr. Denton’s return would only create more problems. I tried to reason with them, but they weren’t having any of it.”
“What the hell kind of problems? Has he had another episode?”
“Not that I’m aware of, sir.”
“Exactly. Besides, the Saunders woman meeting with an unfortunate accident outside that art museum will hopefully bring that nonsense to an end.”
“I believe she was involved in a hit and run,” Bobby said making note of the art museum comment and wondered where Montcreff was getting his information. “My understanding is there’s still some talk of her family pursuing a harassment lawsuit.”
“Family? The woman was into sleeping with other broads. She didn’t have kids, did she?”
“Not that I’m aware of. By family, I think that refers to her parents, actually.”
“Oh sure, why the hell not, everything else seems to be going that way. No one seems to care who they’re sleeping with anymore? Jesus Christ, anything else happening over there I should know about?”
“No sir, it has just been a very hectic week, week and a half.” Bobby went on to recite the growing laundry list of departures.
“Time for people to grow up, shit happens. Keep me posted on Noah Denton,” Montcreff said and hung up.
Shit happens alright, Bobby thought and grabbed two ecstasy tablets from his computer bag and slipped them into his pocket.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was raining again, sort of. A bit heavier than the afternoon’s moderate misting, just enough to have to run the wipers as Bobby drove over to Noah Denton’s home. He pulled his Mercedes into the driveway and parked approximately where Denton’s car had been firebombed.
The paint that had been rolled over the driveway blended so well with the concrete that you would never know graffiti had once been spray painted there. He walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. Cori Denton answered just a moment later.
“Well, Mr. Custer, how very nice to see you again. Oh my, what happened to you?” she said once she opened the door. She was dressed in nice-fitting jeans, a casual top and sipped from a glass of red wine.
“A hit and run a week ago, looks worse than it is,” Bobby said and guessed she wasn’t on her first glass as he handed her the bottle of wine he’d brought. “Maybe you and Mr. Denton can enjoy a glass later tonight.”
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find something better to do. Besides, I intend to have it finished long before he finally decides to make his presence known.”
She used her wineglass to indicate a staircase running along the exterior wall. The stairs were carpeted and the turned spindles in the banister were painted white. Two framed landscapes hung on the wall.
“Just follow the stairs all the way up to the third floor it opens right into his lair. You’ll find Captain Crabby up there, probably immersed in his boring old law books.” She took another sip then hugged the bottle against her chest like it was a frightened child.
“Thanks,” Bobby nodded and headed for the stairs.
“You will take a moment to bid farewell when you’re finished, won’t you Mr. Custer?”
“I certainly will, but remember, it’s Bobby. I’ll look for you before I leave.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said and indicated a general direction with her glass.
Bobby climbed the stairs up to the third floor, he sensed an air of order and spotlessness throughout the house as he made his way to Denton’s office.
Cori hadn’t been far off the mark. Denton was seated at the far end of a room behind a broad expanse of desk in a comfortable-looking black leather chair. He was dressed for the office, wearing a starched pinstriped blue shirt and a red tie. A thick law book lay open on the desk in front of him, illuminated by a brass desk lamp with a green glass shade positioned on the edge of the desk. On one side of the desk a round silver tray held a crystal pitcher and a crystal water glass with ice, next to that sat the two plastic trays that held his various medications for morning and afternoon.
Bobby stood and studied Den
ton for a long moment before he knocked on the doorframe.
Denton seemed to finish another sentence or two in whatever paragraph he was reading before he leaned back in his chair, looked up, frowned and seemed to exhale in disgust once he recognized his caller.
You prick, Bobby thought then said, “Hello, Mr. Denton, just checking in to see how you’re doing.”
“Are you planning to stay long?”
“How are you feeling?” Bobby said, ignoring the question as he entered. The room was actually larger than Denton’s plush office at the firm. Polished oak floors were covered with thick oriental carpets in dark blue and red. On one side of the room floor-to-ceiling oak bookcases held hundreds of volumes of law books while on the opposite side of the room an array of windows looked out over leafy green treetops toward the Mississippi river.
“How am I feeling? How do the words abandoned, discarded, and ignored sound just for starters? What do you say to that? I suppose you could throw in abused for good measure. How do I feel, good Lord, to paraphrase Harry Truman, ‘If you want a friend in the legal profession, get a dog.’ God save me.”
Hopefully he won’t. “Have you had a chance to talk with anyone at the firm?”
“You mean my soon-to-be former partners? The very individuals who are apparently too busy to return my phone calls?”
“It’s been a pretty hectic time, since, well your hospitalization.”
“Oh really, and here I am just cooling my heels and sniffing flowers when the mood suits me. What have you got there?” Denton nodded at Bobby’s computer bag, sounding halfway hopeful.
“Just my computer, I don’t like to leave it in the car.”
“Computers, where’s the romance?”
Bobby ignored the question. “You’re aware Elizabeth Saunders was involved in an accident?”
“Yes, absolutely tragic. Of course I had to learn about it from reading the newspaper. Over forty years of my life I’ve given to that bunch of self-absorbed little…”
