The Big Enchilada (A Sam Hunter Mystery Book 1)

by L. A. Morse

  The crew shuffled off to the side. The girls looked at one another and giggled. They put on robes and started to flip through movie mags. Only Muscles did not move. I began to wonder if he might be stuffed.

  Monroe led me to his office, which was in one corner of the warehouse. He was wearing a sky-blue velour jumpsuit that was open to the navel. His chest was thin and hairless and he was starting to get a belly. He had about half a dozen gold—or gold-colored—chains around his neck with heavy medallions on the ends. He jingled slightly when he walked.

  “I don’t know why you interrupted like that. You ruined a good take.” His voice was nasal and whiny.

  “What’re you calling the epic?”

  “What the Gardener Taught the Girls.” He said it with a straight face.

  “I’ll look for it when it comes out.”

  “You won’t see it. Private clubs only, and mail order.”

  “Clubs like the Black Knight?”

  “Never heard of it.” He spoke without turning around, but I thought I saw his shoulders twitch briefly.

  We reached his office and he flicked on the light. The walls were covered with posters: Teenage Lust, Incest Bride, and Hostage of Love were a few of them. These were the movies that played in theatres. There were also stills from other productions—the ones that were even raunchier and were sold and shown privately. Mound of Venus Films didn’t look like much, but somebody was making a lot of money from it, and I had the feeling that it Wasn’t Monroe, Mother and Son.

  Monroe rattled his chains nervously as I glanced at the stills on the wall. I recognized my good friend Nicky Faro in one of them. The lighting wasn’t very good, but his equipment was unmistakable. Interesting. I also recognized someone else in one of the pictures.

  I stared at Monroe. He held my gaze for a minute and then looked away. He continued to play with his chains.

  “So what do you want?” he said. “You were looking for some runaway girl, weren’t you? I already told you, I never saw her.”

  “I know you said that, but I found out different. She worked here.”

  “You’re mistaken.”

  I walked over to the wall and pulled a still down. It was Linda and another girl, naked, playing with each other. The fucking, stupid jerk, Monroe, leaving the picture on the wall. Incredible! But if people weren’t so dumb, my job would be a lot harder.

  I shoved the picture in his face. “You still don’t remember?”

  “Oh, her.” He was nervous, but he was disguising it pretty well. “Is that the one? I didn’t recognize her from the picture you showed me. She had clothes on. Anyway, I can’t remember every cheap hooker who comes through here. What difference does it make?”

  “It might make a difference to some people if you use minors in sex films.”

  “Would it?” He laughed. “Besides, she told me she was eighteen.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Why not? Who’s got time to check? I got movies to make. There’s a big demand for my pictures. What am I supposed to do, ask to see a birth certificate? All I want to see is a pair of tits and a cunt.”

  “That’s an attitude that’s going to get you in trouble. Haven’t you heard? They’re coming down on kiddy porn.”

  “Yeah? I’m not worried,” he said. “It’s all taken care of. It’s all fixed, and you won’t be able to unfix it.”

  “Maybe not, but I bet I could provide a few embarrassing moments for you and your friends—and your friends wouldn’t like it.”

  He thought for a minute. “Okay. The girl was here. She made a couple of pictures. She left. That’s a wrap.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  “How do I know? You think I keep track of all the meat that comes through here? Does the butcher know where every steak he handles goes?”

  “You passed her on to the Black Knight.”

  He jingled his chains. “I told you, I never heard of it. You got that place on the brain.”

  “What do you do, pimp for the club? You see good talent coming through here, you send it along? I know you’re connected to the club.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rattle, rattle, rattle.

  “Who do you work for at the club? Who runs this operation?”

  “I run it.” Jingle, jingle.

  “You couldn’t run an electric train. No, you’re tied to the club, but the club doesn’t run it. Of course! There’s the same guy behind both operations.”

  “You’re crazy, man.” Rattle, jingle, rattle.

  I took a shot: “You tell Domingo I’m going to send all of you down the tubes.”

  At the mention of Domingo , the hand stopped playing with the chains, and Monroe’s eyes opened wide. I’ve got to hand it to him, he recovered pretty quickly, but the instant of recognition was there. “Who’s Domingo?”

  “No one.”

  I could have pushed further, but it was liable to be counterproductive. I made a couple of good guesses, and Monroe thought I knew more than I did. If I carried on, I probably wouldn’t get anything more out of him, but he might find out I was bluffing. No, I’d leave it. He was jumpy, and the word would go up the line pretty quickly.

  I walked out of the office and through the warehouse. Muscles still hadn’t moved.

  Mother Monroe glared at me from her desk. I saw the light flash on that showed one of the telephone lines was in use. Monroe didn’t waste any time. I considered picking up the phone and saying something cute, but somehow I didn’t want to wrestle the old woman for it. It looked like she’d fight dirty.

  SIXTEEN

  As I drove across town I tried to think things through.

  The puzzle was starting to come together. The picture wasn’t clear, but I was beginning to get some idea of the pieces that were there.

  Domingo was the man behind Mound of Venus Films and the Black Knight Club, and there were other links between the two that I knew about—Linda Perdue and Faro to start with. Mountain had worked at the Black Knight. Did he now work for Domingo? Seemed likely. Domingo used the club to set up marks for blackmail. Acker was a member of the club. Was he being blackmailed? What did Domingo have on him? What was the price? Was he in fact even involved? And where did Linda fit in—if she fit in—and what happened to her?

  I began to see how I had gotten into all this. I was looking for the girl and touched on Venus Films in the process. At about the same time, Acker finds out I’m looking at him. They both lead back to Domingo, and Domingo starts to get nervous. Coincidence, sure, but lots of things are set off by meaningless coincidence. It made sense... and it didn’t. Considering what I had done, the warning I received seemed to be a real overreaction, and Domingo, whoever he was, didn’t seem like the kind to overreact. There obviously were still things I didn’t know about—that I’d overlooked or hadn’t yet seen—and they must be big. Stubby said he was onto something big. And Stubby was killed. And Stubby was looking into Acker. Acker. Acker and the Black Knight. Acker and Domingo. Acker. Acker? I had a couple of answers, but I had more questions. Well, I’d soon see.

  I pulled into a no-parking zone opposite the four-story building that housed the offices and production facilities of Medco Pharmaceutical Supplies.

  As soon as I was inside the building I saw what Stubby had meant. The place felt funny. There was none of the activity and energy that is associated with a successful concern. I knew Medco was not a big company, but Acker seemed to be making a bundle out of it. However, there was no feeling of movement, only treading water. It was dull and lethargic, and the heat wave was not the explanation because the temperature was comfortably cool in the building.

  I rode up to the top floor, where the executive offices were located, and found that Acker occupied one corner. His secretary was staring out the window when I came in. She looked bored and welcomed the opportunity to do something, if only to send my name in. The reply was prompt and I went through the connecting door.

  Acker stood up
as I entered. Of course I had seen him before, but never this close, and I was struck by the cool hardness of the man. He was about five-ten or -eleven and slim, but his taut muscular development was evident under his well-cut fitted shirt. His skin was lightly bronzed and contrasted with his pale blond hair, which was short and cut close to his head. His eyes were a washed-out milky blue—the eyes of a Siamese cat—and it looked as though they would never give away secrets or betray emotions. He reminded me of pictures I’d seen of the Aryan robots of the SS. Stubby was right about Acker being a tough customer, and I began to get an idea about what the excitable personality of his wife found so hard to take.

  “Won’t you sit down, Mr.—uh—Hunter, isn’t it?”

  I sat and stared hard at him. “There’s no point in pretending you don’t know who I am.” He raised his blond eyebrows in a question. Very cool. “I’m the one you hired Stubby Argyll to investigate.”

  “Stubby Argyll? Is that a person?” He was very good.

  “That was a person. He’s dead.”

  Acker blinked. That was the only reaction he had, and I couldn’t tell if he already knew or if the news came as a surprise to him.

  “I should say ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ but, since I don’t know the man, there seems to be no point to it.”

  “No, you shouldn’t be sorry,” I said. “Stubby was killed because he found out something about you—something big. I came here to tell you that I’m going to find out the same thing.... And I won’t be nearly so easy to deal with.”

  An unpleasant smile played around the corners of Acker’s mouth. Damn. He seemed to be enjoying this.

  “I’m sorry, Mr.—uh—Hunter, I do not quite understand why you should be interested in me.”

  “No? Okay. At first I was only interested because your wife hired me to be interested. She doesn’t much like you, Mr. Acker.”

  At the mention of his wife his icy composure broke for the first time. His jaws clenched together and his lips grew thin and bloodless. His hands gripped the edge of his desk with enough force to make his arms tremble.

  “That stupid, whoring bitch,” he hissed through tight lips, not really talking to me, just talking. “She thinks she hates me. She doesn’t know what hate is. She thinks she’s being clever. She’s in for a big surprise. She’ll get nothing. Nothing. Tell her she’s liable to end up peddling her ass for cigarettes if she doesn’t smarten up. “

  Anger flared inside me. I felt like leaping over his desk and throwing him out the window. Or slapping his face and telling him, “Pistols at dawn.” I couldn’t believe it. One tumble on a fur rug, and I was ready to defend her honor or something. Shit! I didn’t need this. I’d kept myself clean and clear and empty for a long time, and now that woman had me acting like some moon-mad, infatuated adolescent, and I didn’t much like the feeling. Mexico was what I needed. A couple of weeks on the beach with Maria would clear away all that stuff.

  At least I wasn’t so far gone that I let my anger show, and, as quickly as he lost it, Acker also regained his coolness.

  “You said ‘at first.’ There is now a difference?”

  “Yep. When I started to smell that something funny was going on, I became very interested—for myself. It was the smell of big money. I like that smell.”

  “You think that something funny is going on? What? If you tell me, perhaps I can disabuse you of the idea, and you will stop wasting your time.”

  “Okay. Maybe you can.” I didn’t mind telling him what I knew. My only problem was making it seem like I knew more than I did. “I think it was funny that the take-over by Megaplex suddenly fell through.”

  “You obviously do not know much about business, Mr. Hunter. There is nothing unusual there. Mergers are considered and then rejected all the time.” He was smiling.

  “But it is unusual that the person responsible for the arrangements is blackmailed into queering the deal.” I grinned back at him.

  Acker’s smile froze, but he responded smoothly. “If what you say is true—and I doubt it—I know nothing about that.” He sure was good.

  “Then it must just be coincidence that right after the deal fell through, you came up with the money to buy out the company. You didn’t have money like that.”

  “But I did have a silent partner. That, too, is very common.”

  “Why would he want to own Medco? The company was going under.”

  “On the contrary. The former owner had lost interest in the company, and as a consequence it was poorly run, but it had significant growth potential. As managing director I saw the potential, and I was able to secure the backing to take over and implement my ideas. In a very short time Medco’s situation has been considerably improved.”

  “Has it? It doesn’t look to me like anything’s happening here. Everyone’s asleep.”

  “Things are slow at this particular moment, but I can assure you that our balance sheet is very healthy.”

  “So your backer’s confidence in you has been justified?”

  “Completely. It may be immodest of me to say so, but that is the case.”

  “Who’s your partner?”

  “If I told you, he would no longer be silent.” Acker smiled in mock apology.

  I was getting nowhere. I could continue to fence with Acker all day and it wouldn’t change. I had to take a shot.

  “Domingo is not so silent, and he’s getting louder all the time.”

  No reaction. Acker had complete control, but somehow the atmosphere in the room changed. The tension increased, or something, and I thought my remark had hit home, but Acker was tough.

  “Domingo? Domingo? That’s another name about which I know nothing, I’m afraid.”

  “No? He’s the one behind the Black Knight Club. He specializes in kinky sex and blackmail. He’s probably got something on you. I’m sure your wife would like to know what.”

  “Really, Mr. Hunter, you are most entertaining, but I’m afraid your imagination is too good. I’ve never heard of this Black Knight Club, and certainly no one is blackmailing me. My charming wife would like to, I’m sure, and that’s why she hired you—” He quickly caught himself and smiled. “—if, as you say, she did. But you will find nothing. I am merely a businessman.”

  “There are all kinds of businesses, Acker, and I’m going to find out just what yours is.”

  Acker raised his shoulders and let them fall. “If you wish to persist with this foolishness, I doubt that I will be able to stop you. Of course, you will find nothing, but I am a man who values his privacy. Therefore, I’ll make you a proposition. If you will desist in this pointless investigation, I will pay you whatever you were going to get from my wife, plus, shall we say, a bonus of two thousand dollars. I think that is fair. What do you say?” He pulled a checkbook from his desk and opened it up.

  “Thanks, Acker.”

  “Then you agree?”

  “No. I was thanking you for making a stupid move. You’re smooth, but you just made a mistake and confirmed my suspicions.”

  “What do you mean?” A shadow passed behind his pale blue eyes.

  “Men with nothing to hide don’t pay two grand to buy off an investigation.”

  “But I said I value my privacy, and—”

  “Nor do they hire other P.I.’s to look after the first.”

  “I thought it would be interesting to thwart my wife’s plans.” A note of urgency was creeping into his voice.

  “So you admit you hired Argyll. Did you also have him killed? Or was that Domingo? Or his big gorilla, Mountain Cyclone?”

  “I do not know what you’re talking about.” He had to work hard to keep his voice level, and I noticed his knuckles were white from gripping the edge of his desk.

  “You people are getting very sloppy. Everything is starting to unravel. One good pull and it’s going to fall apart.”

  “Then you will not accept my offer?” He maintained his control. He was tough.

  “Two’s not enough. Make it
five.”

  “Very well.” He smiled coldly and put his pen on the check.

  “Forget it. If you’re willing to go to five now, you’ll go much higher later. That’s when we’ll talk.”

  His eyes got very cold and hard. “You’re making a mistake, Hunter, and it’s going to cost you.”

  “Not me. You’re in big trouble. You don’t realize it yet, and that means you’re in bigger trouble.”

  “You don’t know what trouble is.” He suddenly sounded tired.

  “Tell me.”

  For a second I thought he wanted to open up, but the hard surface was quickly restored. “I think we’ve exhausted this conversation.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” I said. “You’re going to need me soon, and you better believe that it’s really going to cost you when you do. You can pass that on to Domingo. I’m bringing him down.”

  I got up and went out of the office. As I passed his secretary’s desk I noticed one of the buttons on her phone light up. I smiled.

  Ah, Hunter, you really make the phone lines hum.

  SEVENTEEN

  My car was still there, but something was stuck on the windshield. I figured I’d gotten a ticket, but it must have been my day. It only turned out to be a flyer advertising three rooms of furniture for $250—terms could be arranged. I was sure they could. I treated the flyer with the same reverence I would have given the parking ticket. I threw it away.

  The freeway back to the Valley was tied up with the normal perpetual traffic jam. The sun was a brilliant red ball cutting through the brown haze that hung over the city, the bloodshot eye of a town that’s had a few too many. The traffic wasn’t moving, and I had lots of time to look at the sun. It didn’t tell me anything.

  My shirt stuck to the back of the seat. My skin was covered with the invisible grit that passes for air here. What a fucking lousy place to live. Was there even such a place as an empty beach in Mexico? The bus in front of me gunned its engine with the sound of a dying dinosaur and said, “No way, buddy, this is all there is.” A gust of diesel exhaust blew into my open window. Swell.