Chase Investigations Boxset 1

by Angus McLean

  ‘So?’

  ‘So it was involved in an assault yesterday.’

  Dan felt his guts tighten but kept his face blank.

  ‘So?’ he repeated coolly.

  ‘The driver was seen assaulting a kid in the street, then drove off. A witness got his rego.’

  This close up Dan could smell Kennedy’s breakfast on his breath. Peanut butter on toast and coffee.

  ‘Yeah? And you’ve got a complaint from this kid I take it?’

  Kennedy paused, mulling that one over.

  ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘He was apparently a gang banger. But I’d still like to talk to the driver. We can’t have people just bashing other people in the street. This is still a civilised society.’ He eyed Dan with disdain. ‘Despite what some people may think.’

  ‘You’re walking a thin line here, little man,’ Dan growled. ‘I suggest you leave.’

  Molly stood up, coming round the desk. She knew her husband, and she also knew Kennedy, and any fool could see where this was going.

  ‘Dan,’ she warned, ‘he’s just trying to provoke a reaction.’ She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to gently pull him away. She couldn’t move him. ‘Dan, leave it.’

  Dan didn’t flinch.

  ‘Take a hike,’ he grated to Kennedy, ‘we’ve got private investigation business to discuss.’

  Kennedy took a step back, broke the stare down, and glanced over at Mike, who had also risen and was now standing behind his mate.

  ‘If that’s your car,’ he said, ‘I suggest you watch yourself. Especially around him.’

  Chapter Ten

  Mutual Insurance had a branch office two doors down from Chase Investigations, which was handy for a number of reasons, not least because Chase handled their investigations work. They were a nationwide firm and getting bigger, and had been one of Dan’s first clients when he went private-in fact, he’d stolen them from his previous employer in a satisfying coup.

  They also handled Marcus Haulage’s insurance, which was why Molly visited them-after sorting out the spat between her husband and his friend and making sure the dust had settled first.

  Julie was the branch manager, an efficient if somewhat bland woman in her forties, with round spectacles and a plain grey skirt suit. She looked up from her PC as Molly entered the office with a bundle of files in her hands, and waved her to a seat across the desk.

  ‘Here you go,’ Molly smiled, plopping the files on the top of Julie’s in-tray. ‘All done, photos and reports enclosed.’

  ‘Excellent, well done you.’ Julie finished the email and fired it off. ‘Are they the ones I gave you last week?’

  ‘Yep, all of them. Neil’s finished up with us and is retiring to Tauranga, he got most of them knocked out and Dan did a couple as well.’

  ‘Retiring?’

  Julie looked alarmed now. She didn’t handle change very well and was on medication for her nerves. Something like this was likely to throw her into a tailspin. As it was she removed her glasses and started frantically wiping them while squinting at Molly expectantly.

  ‘It’s okay though, we’ve got a replacement already and he’s started his induction,’ Molly told her smoothly, ‘I think he’ll work out just fine.’

  Anticipating Julie’s normal barrage of questions, she gave a brief rundown of Mike’s background and his long-standing friendship with Dan.

  ‘So he’s a truck driver?’ Julie looked perplexed.

  ‘Was. That’s what I need to speak to you about actually.’

  Julie listened intently while Molly briefed her on the situation Mike had found himself in and the investigation that resulted from it. At the end she nodded solemnly.

  ‘We do insure Marcus Haulage, that’s quite correct, and I’m aware of a number of claims they have filed recently.’ She tapped at her keyboard for a minute. ‘Here we go.’

  She studied the screen for another minute. Molly waited patiently, knowing that Julie wouldn’t share any information with her at this stage. To do so would be irregular, and Julie didn’t do irregular.

  ‘My question, then, is this-what is it that you want to know?’

  Molly gave her the big smile, the one perfected by those who broker peace deals and negotiate the surrender of hostile forces.

  ‘Marcus Haulage is our client for these thefts, and they’re also your client. We want to confirm some details of the claims they’ve made, in order to progress the investigation and possibly assist you in the process.’

  Julie nodded again, taking it in. She could see the opportunity for some investigation time she didn’t have to pay for herself, and she liked it.

  ‘We believe it’s an inside job,’ Molly continued, ‘and if it is we can close it down pretty quickly. That’ll be our job done, and it will save you money by reducing the number of claims you’ll receive otherwise, and also hopefully recover some of the goods that have been stolen.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Further to that is the issue of payment.’

  Molly paused now, putting a little bit of tension on the line to see if the fish was ready to reel in yet. Julie blinked nervously behind her librarian spectacles and leaned forward ever so slightly. She was ready.

  ‘Terry Marcus has engaged our services. He’s paying the bill.’

  ‘I see. Yes?’

  Julie had the bait in her mouth and was nibbling on it. She was ready for a bite.

  ‘That means that we won’t be charging you for it. Effectively you get a free investigation.’

  Molly sat back in her chair, drawing the line tighter. Julie leaned in closer still, unable to hide her hunger now.

  ‘So what do you want to know?’ she asked, and chomped on the worm.

  ‘Who’s Brian Marcus?’ Molly asked, her voice coming through the hands free speaker a bit tinny.

  Dan looked at Mike in the passenger’s seat beside him, gesturing for him to answer.

  ‘That’s Terry’s brother,’ Mike replied, ‘he works there.’

  ‘As the office manager?’

  ‘Something like that, he does the admin stuff. Why’s that?’

  ‘He’s the one who’s submitted the insurance claims on behalf of the company.’

  ‘That’d be right. He’s the brains of the outfit, Terry’s the muscle.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  The speaker went silent for a moment and Dan wondered if they’d lost the connection.

  ‘Why d’you ask, Mol? Are you still there?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m still here.’ She paused again. ‘How much d’you think has been taken?’

  ‘Total value? Hang on.’

  Dan flicked through the file until he found Terry Marcus’ stock notes.

  ‘Ahh, total value to date is just under fifty four grand.’

  ‘That’s interesting.’

  They could hear a tremor of excitement in her voice now.

  ‘The total claimed for to date is a fraction over seventy five.’

  ‘Seventy five big ones?’

  The two men looked at each with surprise.

  ‘That is interesting. Have payments been made?’

  ‘Not all of it. The last claim hasn’t been settled yet, and Julie actually said she was going to pass it on to us anyway. She didn’t realise that the other claims had been settled, she was on holiday when they got put through all together so she missed it.’

  ‘Heads will roll.’

  ‘Certainly will, she wasn’t happy.’

  ‘So someone’s amped up the claims then, claimed too much and then creamed off the excess?’ Mike suggested. ‘But how do they then get the money?’

  ‘It got paid into the company account direct. Someone would have to have access to that to be able to withdraw the money,’ Molly told him.

  ‘So that could be Terry himself then,’ Dan noted, and Mike frowned, shaking his head.

  ‘I can’t see it mate, he’s not like that y’know? I mean, he’s a bit of an idiot obviously, but I don’t think he
’s a thief. Anyway, he’d be stealing from himself, it’s his company.’

  ‘You’re probably right, but we’ll have to find out for sure. I just hope you’re right, ‘cause if it’s him we won’t get paid.’

  Dan looked back at the phone as if Molly could see him through it. ‘Mol, can you do some checks on both Terry and Brian Marcus, find out their financial positions, also the company itself. I’ve got a call to make.’

  ‘Will do, call you later.’

  She rung off and the two men looked at each other again.

  ‘So what’re you then?’ Dan asked.

  ‘What am I what?’

  ‘What’re you? The brains of the outfit or the muscle?’

  Mike leaned over, pinched his friend’s bicep and gave a derisive snort.

  ‘Whadda you think?’

  Chapter Eleven

  They split their forces and went to work. Dan phoned a contact at the Sky City Casino, an ex-cop named Slick Willy who ran one of their security teams. He ran Terry and Brian Marcus through their database and got a minor result. Terry didn’t show up but Brian did-he’d been barred from the premises six months ago for cheating. He’d run up a tab which they’d since written off.

  ‘He’s a hopeless case,’ Willy said down the phone, ‘some guys you know you’ll get the money out of and some you won’t. He’s one we won’t. It’s a matter of cutting your losses-something he never learned.’

  ‘Big spender?’

  ‘Not huge. We wrote off enough to be annoying, but peanuts compared to what some guys get into.’

  ‘Where would he go if he got barred from you guys then?’

  ‘Probably the Ace of Spades if he’s from your area, or maybe the Jackpot. Try either of them, but don’t expect much help-their staff are as crooked as their punters.’

  ‘Cheers Willy, I’ll buy you a beer sometime.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  They rang off and Dan made his way to Otahuhu town centre. It was his old beat and he drove past the Police station-he could even see his old office on the first floor. He ignored the pang in his gut and drove past. No point looking back.

  Otahuhu was one of those areas that were traditionally working class and pretty rough, but close enough to the city for property values to exceed the means of most residents. A lot of state housing and unemployment, high crime, high immigration, and with it a lot of different cultural influences.

  Dan drove past Indian dairies, Chinese supermarkets, afro barbers and the XXXXL clothes shop-’For the Big Man.’ He dropped the car behind the food court and walked back to the main street, wandering through the cultural melting pot and feeling at ease, despite being one of the few white faces. He had a soft spot for South Auckland. One old timer had once told him, ‘She’s a cruel mistress, she just won’t let you go,’ and it was true. It was a tough beat, the toughest any cop could walk, but it was also the best.

  He ducked through a doorway into a dimly lit arcade, off which sprung a pair of loan companies and a pawn shop. They all did good business from the unlucky punters at the Ace of Spades, which was up the stairs directly in front of him. He went up the well-worn carpet and found himself in a long low-roofed bar that used a couple of games tables and several rows of pokie machines to masquerade as a legit casino.

  Two huge Samoans looked coolly at him from the bar to the left. One was six foot and about 100 kilos. His mate was bigger and had scars on his face. Neither looked friendly.

  ‘Boss around?’ Dan asked, strolling casually over to them.

  ‘Warrant?’ the shorter one grunted.

  ‘What for?’ Dan replied with a quizzical look.

  He leaned against the bar and gave Scarface a grin. Scarface didn’t respond, just cracked his knuckles loudly.

  ‘Warrant?’ the bar man repeated.

  ‘Mate, I think you got me wrong. I’m not a cop.’

  The bar man gave him a disbelieving look. Scarface stayed silent.

  ‘I just want to talk to the manager. Is he around?’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘I don’t know the name.’

  The bar man scowled. Scarface popped the knuckles on his other hand and bared his teeth. Dan wondered if that was a grin or just an animal instinct.

  ‘Your name, fool.’

  ‘Crowley.’

  Dan slid a business card across the bar and tapped it with his forefinger. The bar man peered at it. Scarface looked like he couldn’t read, and he made no effort now to change.

  ‘Maybe I don’t need the manager,’ Dan told the bar man.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Dan shrugged. ‘I mean, all I want is some info.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He shrugged again. ‘There’s money in it…’

  Scarface’s face twisted into what may have been a look of interest. Or maybe he was chewing on a wasp. It was hard to tell.

  ‘Yeah?’ he growled.

  Dan grinned. ‘Yeah.’

  The bar man gave a sly smile and Dan knew he had them. Twenty bucks later they told him that Brian Marcus came there occasionally and didn’t do very well. He was a blackjack fan but bad at it, and had the occasional win on the pokies but not enough to cover his losses. The bar man told how Brian Marcus had been there only a few days ago and had taken a hit on the blackjack table, big enough to empty his wallet. He’d accused the dealer of fixing the game and caused a scene.

  ‘So we chucked him out,’ the bar man laughed, ‘straight down the stairs like a sack o’ spuds, bro.’

  He cracked up, and even Scarface’s lips twitched slightly. That was a lot of emotion for him. Dan forced a smile onto his face and awaited the next instalment of the riveting tale.

  ‘So that’s it?’ Dan asked, ‘he’s barred now or what?’

  ‘Na, bro,’ the bar man scoffed, ‘he can come back. Still got money, still gunna lose!’

  He cracked himself up again, and Dan nodded to himself. He could see the vicious circle these gamblers got themselves into, and it brought a flash of clarity to the case.

  Brian Marcus, spiralling out of control in the gambling dens of South Auckland, turns to ripping off his own brother’s company to make ends meet. Maybe the false insurance claims weren’t enough and he turned to outright theft instead, or maybe the thefts were nothing to do with him at all. Either way, he was in it up to his eyes.

  ‘Thanks fellas,’ Dan said, pushing off the bar and giving them a tilt of the chin. ‘It’s been enlightening.’

  ‘So you’re really a private eye, bro?’ Scarface spoke up, catching him by surprise.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘You look kinda like Magnum PI with that ‘tash, bro. Don’t see too many ‘tashes on white dudes no more, bro.’ Scarface shook his head and sighed. ‘I used to love that show man, the red Ferrari, the chicks, Hawaii…good times, bro, good times.’

  ‘Right on, TC.’

  Dan gave him a waggle of the eyebrows and that cracked him up. They were still laughing as he made his way downstairs and back into the melting pot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Terry Marcus was in his office when Mike got there. He looked as frazzled as he normally did, with untidy piles of paper scattered across the desk and a half eaten sandwich spilling its guts onto the blotter.

  He drained a coffee mug as Mike entered, and stood up. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  Mike waited while his former-boss-turned-client refilled the mug from a machine against the wall and returned to his desk.

  ‘Got some news for me?’ Marcus asked, sitting again and scooping up the sandwich-egg and sprouts by the looks of the soggy mess it left behind. ‘I haven’t got much time.’

  ‘Not a result as such,’ Mike said carefully, ‘I just need to check a couple of things. You claimed insurance for these thefts, right?’

  ‘Well yeah, of course.’ He looked like a chipmunk with a large wad of sandwich wedged into one cheek so he could talk round it. ‘Hasn’t been paid yet thoug
h, I don’t think. Check with Brian.’

  ‘Hasn’t been paid yet?’

  ‘Well, I dunno, check with Bri.’

  Marcus swallowed and opened his mouth to shout, but Mike hurriedly waved him down.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll go see him. You didn’t have anything to do with all that end of it then?’

  ‘Na, not a thing. That’s what he’s there for.’

  ‘No worries. What about any more thefts, anything you’re aware of?’

  ‘Na.’ Marcus gave him a sideways look. ‘Not in the last couple of days.’

  Mike wondered if Marcus still thought he was involved, and felt a twitch in his gut. He pushed the thought aside for the moment.

  ‘You do your own recruiting don’t you? You do the hiring of the drivers and that?’

  ‘Mostly.’ Marcus shrugged, crammed in the last bite of sandwich, and tossed the wrapping at the bin. It missed and he left it where it fell. ‘Brian’s done some, and occasionally the supervisor, but mostly me. Why?’

  Mike shrugged non-committally.

  ‘Just covering the bases. I need to have a look at the personnel files too, are they handy?’

  ‘That box there.’

  Marcus indicated a cardboard box on top of a filing cabinet in the corner, with FILES scrawled in black marker across the ETA chips labelling. It had a tear down one side and Mike could see paperwork bulging out the gap, ready to cascade onto the floor. He took it down and had a quick look inside. The contents didn’t look any better than the outside.

  ‘Cheers, I’ll drop it back as soon as.’

  He hefted the box onto his hip, being careful not to let it explode everywhere as he left. With that and the discharged egg ingredients, it would be chaos.

  As Mike was loading the box into his car he heard footsteps approaching. He straightened up and closed the boot, turning to find Gabe and Luther standing behind him. They both had their hands by their sides, loose and ready. Neither was smiling. Looking over Gabe’s shoulder he saw Hooch standing in the loading bay, watching them from a distance.

  Mike looked at the two heavies. They were waiting for him to speak, so he didn’t. They obviously had something to say, probably better to let them say it. Gabe couldn’t keep the silence for too long.