I looked at Lucy, the profile of her face illuminated dimly by the porch light and the infra-red patio heater. It was almost fifteen years since we began working together. She was in her thirties now, but still looked like a girl to me. Her excitement had bestowed a warm glow to her skin, still tanned from her recent vacation. She was like a female Dorian Gray, the guy who kept a portrait of himself in his attic and never got old.
The meal was delicious and I gave the cook the greatest compliment you can give any cook – by devouring every last morsel. Prior to our recent foray to the Far East Lucy had been a competent cook with a limited range. Now her enthusiasm knew no bounds. She had a shelf in the kitchen full of herbs and spices from the Orient. She knew how to use them too. Lucy had recently had a bit of a windfall as a result of a case we’d solved in the Philippines and had treated herself to a new dishwasher. We loaded it up and I was given the honor of pressing the start button for the first time.
“God bless her and all who sail in her,” I said.
Lucy’s bungalow and mine are virtually identical, but hers is back to front, although Lucy claims it’s mine that’s back to front. There’s another difference too. The wall that in my house is lined with books is lined with videos in hers, either side of a fifty inch LED television with surround sound. Lucy announced that we were going to watch ‘Brief Encounter’ for the umpteenth time. Lucy’s a romantic movie buff. There’s an important rule of thumb I have to abide by when I watch movies with Lucy: I’m not allowed to utter a word until after the final credits have disappeared, and then the comments have to be ‘sensible’ ones. Lucy dimmed the lights and I asked where the popcorn was. She thumped me on the bicep.
“You’ve eaten enough already. Shhh, it’s starting.”
The movie finally reached its weary conclusion and I stood up to stretch. It was getting late. I looked at my wristwatch. It was a gold Rolex. It was a gift, not from a client, but from a friend of a client. Lucy looked at me out of the corner of her eye.
“You’re not going anywhere tonight, buster,” she said, “except my bedroom.”
Chapter Three
A Fresh Start
I saw little of Lucy for the next few days, engaged as she was in a flurry of activity. I let her get on with it – I didn’t want to get in the way. I got occasional progress reports. She located some nearby premises in need of a substantial makeover and agreed a three-month rent-free period to smarten them up. She arranged for various tradesmen to busy themselves at my expense. We should be able to move there by the end of January, she said. I wasn’t consulted about the layout or décor, but scored a minor victory by purchasing, without Lucy’s prior consent, some second-hand office furniture from a now defunct business called ‘Fortune Investments and Securities’ which was being sold cheaply by the official receiver.
While Lucy was busy laying the cornerstone of our new business empire I was doing my best to keep my head above water. Christmas may be the time to be jolly but it’s a generally lax time for private investigators. I was busying myself at home with some cold case files from the police department. I’d had some degree of success for them previously and was on the books as a consultant. It’s surprising how many cold case files contain manila envelopes stuffed with promising leads that were never followed up. It wasn’t the kind of work that was going to catapult me on to the Forbes Rich List but it would be enough to pay the bills for the time being.
And then the phone rang with a promising referral from a most unlikely source.
“Hi kid,” said the voice on the other end.
“Duncan. You back from California?”
“Yep. You got your snow shoes on?”
“A bit of snow never hurt anyone,” I said. “It makes it feel more seasonal.”
“Yeah, a bit of snow. Not a mountain of it though. How’s Lucy?”
“Organizing.”
“You?”
“In a way. We’re moving out of the downtown office. Lucy’s arranging a new place a few blocks away. Just the two of us.”
“What gives?”
“Lucy’s legendary powers of persuasion; she’s to be my new assistant investigator.”
An explosion of laughter followed. I had to move the phone away from my ear to prevent my eardrum bursting.
“Yeah,” I said.
“She’s a smart kid – very smart. You probably should’ve done it years ago.”
“Why are you taking her side?”
“Somebody has to. Anyway listen; I may have a client for you.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course seriously. His name’s Don Maddox. He used to work with me until a few years ago; prior military background. He’s getting on a bit now, but he’s still a pretty useful all-rounder – he’s a sixth Dan black-belt and an arms expert. He quit about five years ago − suddenly met the love of his life down in Florida. I must’ve mentioned I had a shamus for a brother at some point because he called me up a day or two ago and asked if I could put him in touch.”
“What kind of inquiry – did he say?”
“Something to do with his wife; she’s been acting a little weird lately and he thinks she may be in some kind of trouble. He lives down there in Boston. I said I’d give you a call.”
“Okay, tell him to get in touch. He can call me here if he likes; I’m not going to the office at the moment. Or he can call my cell if he prefers. Is it urgent?”
“I don’t think so, but I better leave it to him to tell you about it.”
“Are we going to see you sometime?”
“Maybe in the spring; you’ll probably be getting married right around then.”
“Yeah, right,” I said dismissively. “I’ll wait for you to find someone so we can have a joint celebration. That should shelve it for a couple of decades or so.”
“You think there was something wrong with our upbringing?” Duncan said, “Two ageing single guys. Our parents were barely out of high school when they got hitched.”
“Yeah, maybe I should go see a shrink. Maybe we should both go see a shrink.”
“Oh, another thing,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“He’s loaded, so don’t stint on your fee.”
“Ten four,” I said.
“See you around Kid. Love to Lucy.”
There was more laughter, and then he hung up.
I couldn’t wait to tell Lucy. It looked like a promising start to the New Year. I called her up.
“Watcha doing?” I said.
“I’m at the dealership on Planting; choosing a new car. Well, not a new car, a different one.”
“Can you afford it?”
“You mean can we afford it; it’s a business expense,” she said. “Probably not, but it was your idea.”
“Was it? When?”
“You said if I was going to do surveillance work I’d need a car that didn’t stick out like a sore thumb; except you didn’t use those words.”
She was right. I had said that.
“Can you trade your pile of junk?” I said.
“Yes, I came up with a great idea. They’re going to put it on a plinth in the lot with a big sign that says: ‘Are you driving a heap of crap like this? Come on in and talk to us.’ Or something like that.”
I had no idea whether she was being serious; you never know with Lucy.
“You want to meet for lunch?” I said. “I could see you at the Mexican place. I can’t remember the name, but you know the one.”
“I can’t remember the name either, but I know where it is. One o’clock?”
“Don’t buy anything without letting me check it over first.”
“What do you know about cars?”
“I know how much they should cost.”
“See you at one.”
I got there first. I ordered tequila and perused the menu, not that there’s much to peruse in a Mexican menu. Lucy arrived at a quarter after one, w
hich wasn’t bad for her.
“Are we celebrating something?” she said as she slumped down in the booth opposite me. “I can’t remember the last time you invited me to lunch.”
“I wanted to catch up with you to see what you’re doing before you bankrupt me.”
Lucy wobbled her head, pulled a face and rolled her eyes at me.
“Plus I think I may have a new case, and it just could be the type of case where you could assist me.”
Lucy’s eyes opened as wide as a yawning crocodile’s mouth.
“Really, why?”
“I just had a call from Duncan…”
“Oh, how is he? We haven’t seen him for ages.”
“Just listen for a minute. It’s some ex-colleague of his. Apparently his wife is acting kind of strange and he wants me to find out what’s troubling her. But here’s the icing on the cake: Duncan says he’s a rich guy, so he’ll probably be able to afford both of us.”
“Duncan did that for me? Cool.”
“No. It’s my idea. Not the case, obviously, but your possible involvement. I haven’t even talked to the client yet. I just thought, from the little I know about it, that it might be a suitable case for you to cut your teeth on. No promises obviously, we’ll have to see how it pans out.”
“I’ve always liked your brother.”
“Yeah, and he’s always liked you. We all like each other. Let’s not get carried away, we’ll see what happens.”
We ordered our food. In the excitement Lucy had failed to notice my drink. She noticed it now.
“Tequila? At lunchtime? I thought you were working that cold case file.”
“I was. I am. Look it’s only one drink,” I said.
“Only one that I can see,” she said. “So have you made any progress on it?”
“Not yet. It’s early days – there’s a lot of paperwork generated by these investigations you know; you can’t do them in five minutes.”
“I’ve been trying to think of a name.”
“A name? For what? What are you talking about?”
“For the new business.”
I took a big breath and exhaled loudly.
“The business,” I said, “is called Mark Kane Investigations. You may have noticed it. It’s on my letterheads and business cards. It’s even on my tax return. And it’s on the checks that are routinely deposited in your account for…whatever it is you do.”
“That was then. I told you. This is a new start.”
“Lucy, I agreed to give you a trial as my assistant. I didn’t make you my partner.”
“It’s the same thing. You’re not trying to wheedle out of it now, are you?”
“I’ve made a lot of concessions lately Lucy, but I’m putting my foot down. We’re not changing the name. You can have gold embossed business cards if you like, but the name stays.”
“For the time being, okay,” she said, leafing through the menu.
The food mercifully arrived and I reminded Lucy that talking with her mouth full would be very unfeminine. After she finished eating I asked her about the car.
“There’s a really boss Corvette,” she said.
“Boss? This isn’t the sixties, Lucy. You weren’t even born in the sixties.”
“Neither were you.”
“No, more’s the pity. Better days back then.”
“How do you know?”
“Lucy, you need an invisible car.”
“Don’t be stupid, there’s no such thing.”
“Well obviously not literally. I mean a car that doesn’t stand out, doesn’t get noticed. I’ll find something suitable. I really don’t think it’s a priority right now, I’ve got enough to pay for.”
“You know Kane, sometimes you sound just like my father.”
“I’ve always had a lot of time for your dad,” I said.
Lucy was eyeing the dessert menu.
“Go on then,” I said. “I’ve got to get back to work. How are things panning out in the downtown office, have they decided who’s going to take over the lease?” I hadn’t talked to any of them. I was persona non grata.
“They’re squabbling about whose name is going to be on top of the leaderboard. They’re like a bunch of schoolboys.”
“How’s Eric’s niece getting along? I don’t see how you’re mentoring her and organizing my new office at the same time.”
“She’s in the hospital. The calls are being forwarded to my cell.”
I decided I’d heard enough. I left sufficient on the tabletop to pay the check and a more than reasonable tip and told Lucy I was heading home.
“There’s not going to be a problem with the office, Lucy, is there?” I said.
“I’ll handle it,” she said. “Relax.”
I left the restaurant and headed home. I didn’t feel relaxed.
Chapter Four
Stars in her Eyes
Lucy was conspicuous by her absence for the next couple of days. I didn’t know whether this was a good or bad sign, whether it augured a reason for optimism or pessimism for the future. Moreover, I’d received no call or message from Don Maddox and I was beginning to worry that his problem had resolved itself. Not that I wished him ill, of course, but it left me feeling a bit deflated. I figured that whatever his concern had been it was no longer troubling him. I continued to work on the police files at home, racking up an agreeable number of hours and constructing neat indexed piles out of the jumble of papers that had been delivered to me just before Christmas. The papers would eventually end up in the new office and my penchant for tidiness would no doubt appeal equally to Lucy’s penchant for organization. Since the new office was close by I wouldn’t have to keep everything at home once we moved in. If Lucy was to be my assistant, I’d have to school her in this sort of work so she could lend a hand when I was busy with other things.
The papers related to three homicides which had occurred between seven and twelve years ago. The investigations hadn’t identified any suspect or suspects. After studying the files for the past few days, to familiarize myself with the investigations, I was now searching for anything of evidential significance that may have been missed, or any exhibits which might be re-examined in the light of advances in forensics. There was nothing that appeared to connect the three cases, but one investigative method was to compare apparently unconnected homicides and see if they had anything significant in common. If two cases could be linked, especially if there was a link between the victims, then there was a better chance of a breakthrough. However, if a homicide was a random killing it would probably forever remain unsolved.
It was mid-morning on a Saturday so I knew Lucy wasn’t at work. Another reason I knew Lucy wasn’t at work was because her car was parked in her driveway. It was early January and the snow was deep and crisp but, because of the snow plows, not particularly even. The snow on the leaves and branches of the trees in my front yard gave them a dream-like appearance and everything seemed strangely still and quiet until a rat-a-tat-tat on my front door shattered the silence.
“Hi Lucy, come on in,” I shouted in the direction of my front door. “How goes it?” I said, as she stepped over the threshold.
“Cold enough to freeze the knickers off a vicar’s wife,” she said.
She came up behind my recliner and put her hands on my cheeks. They were freezing and I gave a small involuntary yelp.
“Cold hands, warm heart” she declared.
“Care for a hot toddy?” I said, shuffling the piles of papers surrounding my chair into a single pile and placing them on the dining table. “I’m just about to wrap things up for the weekend.”
I went in the kitchen to boil some water and get a pot of honey. I made drinks for us both and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa where Lucy had ensconced herself. She picked up one of the mugs and held it in both hands, shivering as she did so in spite of the warmth inside the house.
“How are thi
ngs at the office?” I said, hoping that her silence over the last couple of days was a good omen.
“Hopeless,” she said. “It’s all coming apart down there. Nobody can agree on anything and since nobody actually goes there I spend all day passing messages from one to another. They’re like a bunch of headless chickens. It seems that you were the glue that kind of cemented everything together and nobody wants to take responsibility for the lease. I’m pretty sure that everything’s going to fold so I spoke to the landlord and he said if that happens we’ll have to forfeit the entire deposit and the advance rental. He says he doubts he’ll be able to find another tenant and he’ll probably have to rent it out as a storage unit. I told the others and they all say that you should reimburse them their share of the deposit because you’re the one who’s landed them in this mess.” She looked at me over the top of her steaming mug and grinned. “Apart from that, everything’s hunky dory.”
“Why are they blaming me? They should be blaming you. You’re the author of their misfortunes.”
“Because they don’t know that. They all think it was your idea to deprive them of an office and a secretary. I didn’t tell them that, it’s just their assumption.” Lucy placed her mug on the table in front of her and sat there with a self-satisfied smile and rubbed the palms of her hands together, still trying to get them warm.
“So that’s why you’ve been keeping a low profile for the last couple of days? Guilt and shame,” I said.
“I’ve been shopping.”
“For two days?”
“Of course not; I’m changing the subject.”
“Shopping for what?”
“Stuff for the new office.”
“I’ve ordered the furniture already; I told you.”
“Old movie posters.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well I know when you made that crack about pictures of Bogart you were being sarcastic, but it got me thinking.” She pointed her finger at me. “You’d unintentionally hit on a great idea. So I found this little shop downtown that sells old posters featuring famous movie detectives and I got a really good deal.”
“Please tell me you haven’t bought them yet.”
Till Death - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Four: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Stories...with a dash of Romance. A Murder, Mystery & Suspense Thriller Page 3
