tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29386447243873369642024-03-14T02:32:00.936-07:00Harry Walthenson, Private InvestigatorThe casebook of Harry Walthenson, Private InvestigatorCharles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-64729449535312342522022-12-08T23:37:00.002-08:002022-12-08T23:37:14.163-08:00Case 2 - Episode 42 - Sykes is at the crime scene<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Sykes arrived
not long after two other police cars and four officers who immediately secured
the crime site and gathered up all the witnesses.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Sykes arrived
soon after the officers with another detective, a woman, who proceeded to
direct the officers while Sykes picked out Felicity and went straight to her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Are you
alright?" <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity was
anything but alright, that time between the incident, the removal of the body
in such a swift and efficient manner, and the arrival of the police, she had
turned over a number of scenarios in her mind, none of them good.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"No. That could have been me."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"It
wasn't, and I doubt they, whoever they are, were after you, though a warning
not to get too involved in this might be appropriate. What were you doing here anyway?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Following
a suspect in a case, that led to Argeter.
He's one of Mr. Walthenson's friends."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Was,
perhaps. Yes. Anything else."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"He met
up with Alex Portman."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Who
is?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Possible
candidate for the upcoming council election."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"And how
is she relevant to which of your investigations?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Harry
and I are checking out two of the Walthenson's practice women, I've got Alicia
Wentworth, he's got his paternal grandmother, Giselle. Alicia met up with Alex Portman, and curious,
I switched to Alex who led me here."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Did you
see it happen?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"No,
there was what I thought, and others too, and explosion behind us, which was a
distraction, apparently, long enough to divert our attention, so I only just
saw the aftermath, Argeter collapsing, and then, very quickly after that, then
the ambulance that took him away. I took
photos."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Well
organized, and obviously prepared."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"But how
would they, whoever they are, know that he was here? It's a reasonably random meeting, time and
spot, given Alex wasn't sure when she'd be finished with Alicia, certainly time-wise."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Tracking
him by cell phone, I suspect."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You'd
think he'd be smarter than that and be using a burner."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Perhaps."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">In the
distance, his partner was calling Jim over to the spot where Argeter fell. <o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Stay
here. I'm going to Argeter’s place
before anyone else gets there. Let me
sort this out, and I'll be back in a few minutes."<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-49403637798621619732022-11-18T15:49:00.000-08:002022-11-18T15:49:41.934-08:00Case 2 - Episode 41 - What happened to Argeter?<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity
followed Alex Porter all the way to Central Park and the statues of literary
giants.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">At first, Alex
had walked fast, purposefully, and angrily.
Then the pace lessened as the anger subsided.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It seemed
prophetic that Argeter was waiting on a seat near William Shakespeare.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"That was
quick," he said after she sat down <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"She
doesn't have it."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"How can
you tell?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I came
at her very hard. She didn't have time
to collect her thoughts and lie."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"What
about Richards? Given the number of
times he and Walthenson met in the golf course, Walthenson might have given it
to him for safekeeping. It wouldn't be
the first time."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"The
silly bugger can't keep a secret. He'd
have told me, besides, I'm the only one who can open the safe."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Unless
he put it somewhere else. I mean, he
acts like he's dumb, but I rather think he isn't."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Oh, he
is, believe me. Pretends he's the great
family man but doesn't realize everyone knows her trawls the dark corners of
the city for young men. It disgusts me,
but if there wasn't a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. “<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Appearances
can be deceptive, remember that."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">End of the conversation, she left. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity
didn't see the point of following her anymore, a more interesting target was
Argeter. She would have to be more
careful with him given how dangerous he and his known associates were.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">When she
looked over, Argeter was on the phone, and couldn't quite make out was he was
saying.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"No ...
problem is ... scoundrel ... Walthenson doesn't ... Alicia tried to find out
but she ... no, no closer ...."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Argeter was
staring at the phone because it appeared the caller hung up mid-call. It was obvious whoever he was
speaking to wasn't happy with what he had to report. And whatever
it was about this piece of land, it was worth killing for, and a lot, lot more.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Argeter's phone
rang again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity could
see his face as he turned to look one way and then the other as if looking for
someone <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Then,
"You're joking. After all I've done
for them?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The call
ended, and Argeter leaped to his feet, again looking both ways before heading
back the way Alex Porter had come.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Almost
running.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He was a man
in fear for his life.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He reached the
first cross street and had to wait a moment, along with a group of tourists.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity kept
her eyes on Argeter, except for a few seconds when there was a loud bang from
behind them, and everyone cringed, a reaction most people had in the
expectation of another attack, and when she turned back Argeter was on the
ground.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She quickly
walked towards him, then saw the blood pooling beside the body. He'd been attacked in that brief moment her
attention had been diverted. The others
in the group who had just recovered realized what had happened, and one of the
women screamed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity had
Sykes on speed dial.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Argeter
just got stabbed in Central Park, at the top of Literary Lane."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Did you
see who did it?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"No, but
I'll keep an eye out in case anyone runs.
They have to be still here."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Be
careful. I'll be there as soon as I
can."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Not one minute
after the scream an ambulance came quickly up the road, stopped opposite the
body, and cleared a path through the onlookers, two of w2ho were hunched over the
body, either trying to save him, or taking ghoulish photographs, bringing out a
gurney put Argeter on it, got back in the ambulance, and left.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The whole
operation took less than 90 seconds, <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">After another minute or a little more, the first police car stopped next to what was not a
doubly stunned crowd.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The ambulance
was gone, but not before Felicity had taken several photographs of the men
taking the body, and the ambulance itself.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She was
uploading the photos to send to Sykes when she noticed the ambulance people had
flesh-colored balaclavas on, and the registration of the ambulance was just a
blur.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">No easy
identification of the body snatchers, and no identification of the
ambulance. This was a very well-organized assassination.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2022 </p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-16931085939907189032022-10-11T08:18:00.000-07:002022-10-11T08:18:36.521-07:00Case 2 - Episode 40 - Alicia does not get her way<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Two cups of
coffee later, Felicity was going to leave when Alex Portman walked into the
Cafe.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity
looked at her watch and saw it was still a half hour before her meeting with
Alicia, so she must have decided to get a coffee before facing the ice maiden.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Alex ordered a
coffee, and then looked around the room eventually going over to, and sitting down
at, a table behind Felicity. If she knew
who Felicity was, she showed no sign of it, going her a wry smile as she walked
past.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Several of the
patrons saw her, but only one had a look of distaste, obviously judging her for
being different.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">A moment later
she heard her voice, "Alicia, darling, it might be better if we talk in
that quaint little Cafe opposite your building.
I'll be there five minutes before.
Mochiato isn't it? Of
course."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Why be here a
half hour before?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity didn't
have to wait long. A short portly man
arrived and waddled over to her table behind her and made a lot of noise
sitting.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She'd
recognised him as one of Xavier Walthenson's friends, Alexander Argeter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I don't
like this one little bit." It was
clear that she didn't want to be there, nor deal with Argeter.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You
don't have a choice."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"How did
you know she would call me?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Everyone
knows what your ambitions are, and people like Alicia have piles of money to
throw at political candidates that can help them. That's what the pitch will be, but there's
always a price. She needs eyes and ears
inside to find out what's happening to the port land redevelopment."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You
think she has the title document?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Nothing
would surprise me. Her, or that other
witch Giselle."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You
might not want to disparage her in front of me, Alexander, or you will get
nothing more from me."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Don't
ever get the impression that either woman wants to be your friend. You are simply a commodity to both of them,
useful if you succeed, but nothing if you don't."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"And what
does that make you?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"At least
with me, you'll see the knife coming. The title document. Walthenson had it, and he says its gone. Someone has it. We need it.
And we need to talk, so when you're done here, I'll be waiting at the
usual place." There was a short
pause, then, "If you want to succeed..."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Yada,
yada. Now go away before she sees
you."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">A grating
sound of metal on stone, and Felicity just managed to see him waddle out the
door.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Alicia was
late, and Felicity didn't see her arrive, only hearing her come over and sit in
the recently vacated chair, after a customary hug.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Perhaps they
were closer than just mere acquaintances, but Felicity did not think Alicia was
gay, but only pretending to be, though Felicity also knew Alicia was not above
using her sexuality to get what she wanted.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Just that
thought sent a shudder through her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I'm
sorry to sound blunt," Alex started, "but what do you want? It's become clear to me that people, like
you, seem to think that I might be useful if I become a councillor. You're not the first to make an
approach."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">If Alicia was
fazed by this opening gambit, then her tone didn't betray it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"As I'm
sure there will be more, and with more dubious claims. We are strong women, with purpose, and like-minded
in what we want, and I make no apology for wanting power and using that of
others to get it. We could be of mutual
benefit to each other. You need campaign
funding and friends, and I have an abundance of both."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"And in
return?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I think
you know well enough how this game goes."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Not to
the point where I get caught in the crossfire which, it seems, is likely to
happen. I did some homework before I
came. You and Giselle don't play nicely
do you?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Giselle? What does she have to do with anything?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Everything. She is an old dear friend. I've known her longer than time itself, and I
know what you did. I know you're
ruthless, single-minded, and, yes, you want power, but you're not the sharing
kind. But, you're right, I need funding
and I need friends, so tell me, what do you really want?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity
doubted anyone spoke to Alicia like that and was still breathing, but it
depended on how desperate Alicia was, and whether it was connected to the port
land.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"As I
said...."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Let me
spell this out, so neither of us is in any doubt. If you are sitting on the port land title
that Walthenson so conveniently misplaced, then I suggest you arrange a meeting
to hand it over. If you have not, nor
know where it is, but expect me to keep you informed about any developments
related to that parcel of land, then you are wasting your time if you think you
can buy me."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I don't
have it, and I really don't know anything about it, but since it affects the
practice, I thought I'd better find out.
That was all I intended, a few simple questions and answers."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Her tone now
did betray her anxiousness. Felicity
doubted Alicia had been expecting a full frontal attack, or that it would be so
direct.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Nothing
is simple with you Alicia, and you are just the sort of person I don't want to be
associated with."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">A scape of the chair and retreating footsteps. All that
remained was a shattered Alicia who was staring at the coffee cup when Felicity
left.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-25435972047714078552022-10-09T06:55:00.000-07:002022-10-09T06:55:49.300-07:00Case 2 - Episode 39 - Felicity and Alicia, again<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Instead of
going to Harry's office, Felicity decided to get a head start on her
surveillance of Alicia.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">After Harry
had uploaded a small undetectable program that gave her administrative access
to the Walthenson servers and network, she was able to download Alicia's
electronic diary and email and take a country glance at her files.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity found
nothing, but knowing Alicia, she would be very careful to not have anything incriminating
where people would be looking.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">What was
interesting was the spreadsheet summary of the practice's financials, and it
was not as viable as it should be, and the fact the practice's offices and her
house were mortgaged to the maximum told her something was not right.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Alicia would
never put the wealth she had fought so hard for at risk. Not unless there was a bigger pot of gold at
the end of the rainbow.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">A couple of
questions for Harry to ask his mother.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She had also
been studying up on her subject, such as was available from various searches on
the internet. There was not much, and it
had that sort of feel to it that someone had sanitised her profile and history.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She found
Alicia was one of seven girls born to farmers from Lincoln County Oklahoma, did
most of her formative education there and then moved to Philadelphia to live
with an Aunt and finish her education at Penn State.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Reading
newspaper archives, Felicity had picked up some details while there, a minor
scandal with a professor, and another with a married man within her aunt's
circle of friends. These were
advantageous liaisons, seed money to move to New You're, and perhaps to improve
her grades, or get prospecting employment opportunities <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Even then as a
blooming teenager, Alicia knew what she had to do, fearlessly, to get
ahead. Perhaps in law, women had to go
that extra mile to achieve what they wanted.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And so,
Felicity concluded, it was not uncharacteristic of Alicia to find a man like
Walthenson senior and make him her own.
After all, she had a prestigious office and position within the
practice, and nearly all of the Walthenson wealth.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The only
obstacle she could not overcome was Elsie Walthenson, and there were a few
skirmishes over the years, all of which were won by Elsie. With her family and wealth, Alicia could
never hope to win.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But it did
pose the question of whether she had attempted to take Walthenson junior from
his wife. In that, given Walthenson
wandering eye, maybe Elsie would have handed him to her on a platter <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Or just his
head.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It was an amusing
thought.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Felicity
flopped down in the chair behind the window that overlooked the Walthenson
office building and settled in with her laptop, coffee, and a bacon
sandwich. It was an English thing a
friend had told her about and got strange looks from the serving staff when she
asked for it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">No
matter. She was hungry and it looked
delicious.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She had timed
her arrival at the Cafe for ten minutes before Alicia usually arrived by car,
or on foot from the subway. Alicia was,
in one respect, a creature of habit, being places on time.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And a minute
after the hour, her car pulled up outside the building and the chauffeur got
out and opened the door. After a few short
instructions, she went inside, and the car re-joined the traffic.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">This morning’s
diary was for a chamber meeting, then lunch with Alex Portman. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Alex Portman
was interesting in several respects, the first, a champion for same-sex
marriage and women's rights, and second, she worked for a prominent city
councillor but had ambitions of her own.
Reading between the lines, she had attached herself to the aging
councillor with the intent to get his endorsement when he retired or died.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It seemed the
latter was a more viable option.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There was no
real connection between the two women, none that Felicity could find, and
driving into their pasts found they came from the other side of the country,
and both ended up in New York.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">So, that being
the case, it could only mean one thing.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">That Alicia
had her sticky fingers in the portside block of land and was taking a
different path to find out about it. The
question was, how far was she willing to go?<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-79078796289558426912022-10-04T08:35:00.001-07:002022-10-04T08:35:32.468-07:00Case 2 - Episode 38 - Someone is watching, but who?<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry got as
far as his car in the carpark before he could feel an itch on the back of his
neck.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Someone was
watching him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">This would be
the moment to pull out a cigarette and take a moment to reflect on that
conversation with Robert, but he didn't smoke.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Perhaps he
could feign that there was something wrong with the car. He unlocked the car, got in tried to start
the car, and then got back out again after popping the hood.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The car park
had CCTV cameras that covered the whole area, and someone would be monitoring
the feed. That was not the eyes on him
that were bothering him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">While looking
at the engine, he also did a slow scan of the parked cars, until he reached a
black SUV, like those used by the FBI, sitting in the last row, reversed in so
whoever was sitting in it could see the whole carpark, and coincidentally in
direct line to his car, and him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He could not
distinguish who it was behind the tinted screen, but it was recognisable by the
burning tobacco of a cigarette, followed by a gush of smoke out the side
window.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Another
PI? It couldn't be the FBI, or could
it? He had no idea what trounce his
father was in, or whether the surveillance was on his father or someone
else. After all, there was any number
of other scoundrels who were members, and more eligible for a federal
investigation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Bonnet down,
back inside the car, he hid the items he'd found under the carpet under his
seat, then got back out and headed for the front door.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil needed
to know there was a strange car in his car park.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil looked
surprised to see him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Change
your mind?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"No. You've got a visitor outside surveillance the
car park."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"How do
you know?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Itchy neck. Black SUV, in the back row."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He went to the
door marked "Private, authorised personnel only", unlocked the door
and went in. Harry hovered in the
doorway.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There was an
array of about a dozen screens on the wall, the bottom, the last screen that of one
view of the carpark, and to one side, the vehicle in question.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil switched
to that screen then focussed on the car and zoomed in until a face appeared
behind the windscreen, the cigarette, and the fact he was wearing a suit <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Is that
a Fed?" It was a name I'd heard my
father use for an FBI agent, who had come to the club expecting cooperation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"That or
a PI, but more likely an FBI agent."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He got up from
the chair. "Let's go see what he's
about?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">I followed him
out to the car park and could barely keep up as he strode towards the
vehicle. When he was within fifty yards,
the engine started, and the vehicle drove off.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil stopped
and glared at the departing car.
"Not FBI, they would have stayed and given me a lecture, so one of
your lot, Harry. Pretending he's
something he's not. If he comes back,
I'll give him what for."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And Harry had
taken the car registration plate. It
would be interesting to know who it was.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Back at the
office, Harry was alone, walking into a darkened and quiet room. He had been expecting both Felicity and nnn there,
and glad they were not, because he would have to explain the documents he'd
discovered in his father's locker at the Club.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He wasn't
expecting any great revelations, starting with the folders.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The first had
spreadsheet printouts of accounts, in names he had not heard of, but cryptic
enough to indicate they were shelf companies' bank accounts based in the
Caymans.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The balances
were not earth-shattering, but it indicated, if they were his, he was reasonably
wealthy in his own right. Interestingly,
deposits of the same amount, 11.35 million, were made into each of five
accounts, on the same day of each month.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Blackmail.
Services rendered, or something else?
The question was, were the accounts his, or was he checking up on someone
else?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The book was a
notebook, a diary of sorts, but not for a particular year, but a member of
years. The first page indicated it
started his first day of university.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It was not
day by day, more each significant event, and not 50 pages in was the story of
how his father became enmeshed in the machinations of Alexnder Argeter. The whole sordid story, showing that his
father had miscalculated, and Argeter had taken advantage of a fortuitous, for him,
situation. But, at the time it could
have had serious consequences for his eventual career.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It also had
the story of his relationship with Harry's mother and the eventual
marriage. It was an interesting story if it was true. Harry had to wonder, if
he shared it with his mother, what her side of the story would be.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But those were
not the only revelations in the book, one, when he came across a single
sentence, heavily underlined as if he was angry at the time, that simply said,
"Harry is not my son."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It did say who
the father was, but it was still enough to make Harry's head spin, and instantly
regret having read any of the information in it. Such revelations, Harry told himself, were
best left inside the metaphorical Pandora's box.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But, now it
was out there, and it bothered him. Did
his mother know his father knew, did his real father know, and had his mother
maintained the deception from the say he'd been born?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And if Harry
thought about it, it made sense. His
brothers were exactly like their father, he was not. <o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He allowed
himself a moment to speculate on the ramifications, then shoved it to one side. His job was to find Xavier, everything else
could wait.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">...</p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-70042737116110787062022-10-03T07:31:00.000-07:002022-10-03T07:31:30.194-07:00Case 2 - Episode 37 - A discussion with Henry, a look in a locker<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The bar was
often referred to by its regular patrons, the men who really didn't want to go
home to their wives, as the 19th hole.
It was an in-joke that had long lost its comedic value.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Robert was
propping on the end of the bar, the end that overlooked the 18th hole, where
sometimes there was a little excitement as the scorecards were tallied and
money changed hands, sometimes a lot of it.
There had also been a few heated arguments.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Their father
was a great believer in having incentives to do their best, putting wagers on
the outcome of a hole, something Harry never took up because he would always
end up with the most strokes, and Robert accepted because he thought he was
better than everyone else, and invariably proved otherwise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His IOU to the
father amounted to thousands, and Harry doubted he would ever pay up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But Robert was
a golf fanatic, getting a round in with his cronies who had nothing better to
do, nor had a job to go to, whenever they called. They didn't work for a living, but Robert
never let the fact he had a job interfere in his leisure time. Harry couldn't see Robert's friends, and since
Robert was dressed in a suit, there had to be another reason why he was
propping up the bar.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry slid
onto the stool next to his brother.
Robert gave a sidelong glance then went back to staring at the amber
liquid in the bottom of the glass. He
picked it up, swirled the glass so the ice rattled, and then drank.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He put the
glass noisily on the counter and signalled for another when he caught the
barkeeper's eye. When the barkeeper looked
at Harr he just pointed at Robert's glass.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">No need to
start a tab, the barkeepers knew everyone, and the drinks went on the bill
automatically. Harry shuddered to think
what Robert's bar tab would be like, the club was his second home.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You are
a fish out of water, Harry."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His general
expression for his brother when he embraced the trappings of a family Harry
didn't really want.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You
should be at the office."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I work
my own hours."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"When
Dad's not there, you mean."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Robert looked
sideways again at his brother. "What's
Sherlock Holme's dumber brother doing here?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Yes, Harry
thought, that joke was getting a little tired, but it humoured his brothers,
all of who had contempt for his chosen profession.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"On Dad's
trail."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"In case
you haven't noticed, he's not here."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"We're
you here a month back when he had a brain fade after a phone call?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"If it
was here, it was probably an irate husband, in fact, there are only two types of
calls he gets these days. Irate clients
and irate husbands. Then we all have to
clean up the mess."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Things
not going well?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Who
knows. It's a war between Dad and that
dreadful woman Grandfather left behind.
Neither of them will do anything unless it outdoes the other. To be honest I'm sick of being caught in the
crossfire."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The bartender
dropped the two drinks in front of us with a nod. A bit early to be drinking, but if I guessed
correctly, it would be the equivalent of liquid gold.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry took a
sip. Liquid gold, indeed. And a hefty dent in his bar tab.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You know
of anything he's been working on currently that might be, say,
complicated?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You know
Dad. All cloak and dagger, to him. The last time he was Luke this, he was seeing
that Argeter chap. Never liked him,
cheats at golf, and that sets the mark as far as I'm concerned. Why Dad tolerates him is anyone's
guess."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry had seen
him from time to time. And his mother was equally adamant the man was bad news.
And, exactly what he was after. A lead.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I'll
look into him."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You want
my advice, don't. I reckon he has some
very dangerous friends, none of whom would take kindly to a private
investigator snooping around."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"All the
more reason then."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Your
funeral, Harry. I thought the last time
you stared death in the face you'd come to your senses. Apparently not."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">If he was
looking to get Harry to leave him alone, he had touched the right
nerve. On top of his brother’s contempt
for Harry's chosen profession, he seemed to think Harry's recent brush with
death was a wake-up call to return to the fold.
It hadn't, and paradoxically, had only made him more determined to
excel."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Perks of
the job Robert. You could also finish up
on the wrong end of a gun yourself if you follow in Dad's footsteps. Just think about that."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry finished
his drink, gave his brother one last glare, and then left.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The locker
room was not the most awe-inspiring place.
Harry had a collection of mixed memories of the place, where men
gathered in groups in various stages of dress, on their way to and from the
showers, most without any sense of decorum.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Others spoke
in disparaging yards of their wives, girlfriends, work colleagues, and life in
general, a place where they believed they could speak freely.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry had
always been surprised by it all, learning all too quickly that the world was
never quite what it seemed behind the polite discussion and sympathetic smiles.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Today or was
almost too quiet, with the odd golfer on his way out onto the course, and no brash
conversation. Ideal, in fact, for what
Harry intended.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His father was
one of those members who had his locker out of view of the CCTV cameras, put
there because of a flare-up after one afternoon's rather intense u
sportsmanship spilling over into the room.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Members were
divided on the measure, but when the insurance company threatened to pull its
cover, they agreed to limited access.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry had the
door open inside a minute, and took another three, to analyse its
contents. He had assumed his father
would use this sacred space to hide anything he didn't want anyone else to see,
and, to a certain extent, he was right.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">A shoe box, at
the bottom. Under several old pairs of shoes, a box no one would give a second
look.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He pulled it
out, lifted the lid and saw a book, what looked like a diary, and several
folders.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Not the place
to take a look. He'd brought a plastic
zipper bag and placed the items in it, then tucked it under his shirt,
smoothing out the wrinkles, so that it didn't look as though there was
something there. Everyone except
Cecil. He'd noticed Harry had suddenly
put on weight, so he'd have to use the back exit.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Box back, door
closed, he was in and out under five minutes.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-87668868514420257562022-10-01T08:03:00.002-07:002022-10-01T08:03:40.039-07:00Case 2 - Episode 36 - Harry looking for Henry at the golf club<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry never
understood his father's obsession with golf, nor his desire to equally
enthuse his sons to play the game, introducing each at the age of 12, like his
father before him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There was a
lot to be said about tradition.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Of course, it
was not so much about playing the game as it was being an essential tool in the
businessman's armoury. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Even so, Harry
had never seen the reason why anyone would lose, just to make a deal, or get a
favour. Perhaps that was the reason why
he was not a businessman.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His brothers
took to it like ducks to water. Needless
to say, it was not because it was a tool. It was more about the prestige, and
therefore bragging rights, of belonging to a very elite club.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And it
was. Just the annual membership fees
were eye-watering, certainly more than he had made over the last year, and had
it not been for his father, he would not be a member.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It was the one
thing his parents paid for him, or, more likely, his father had forgotten to
cancel when Harry walked away from the practice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Originally,
the building was a huge sprawling exquisite colonial style mansion, and, over
the years added to so that now, it had the distinction of making the top of
Architectural Digests 10 worst buildings three years in a row.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It just showed
that too much money, little understanding of ascetics, and a committee made up
of stockbrokers, lawyers and bankers could do.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Despite that,
Harry thought it was quaint, and it had instilled a desire in him to one day if he could afford it, buy or build an old colonial house of his own.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He shrugged.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The one thing
he did remember was the obscene display of wealth and privilege, outside, with
all the prestigious cars, except his, and inside, with the antiques and
expensive furniture. He had never understood
the desire of the wealthy elite to surround themselves with the trappings.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Most mortals
never made it further than the foyer, a few feet in from the front door where
a large guard by the name of Cecil, the greeter, met every arrival. There was no sneaking in the back door,
everyone had to present themselves at the main entrance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">If it wasn't
Cecil, it was an equally voluminous man named Occo. Both were the sort of men who could repel
all invaders single-handed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It was Cecil's
day, and Cecil knew Harry.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Well, if
it isn't Harry Walthenson, infamous private detective. Heard you were involved in the Jones
Brother's murder cases."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil was also
reputed to have an ear to the underworld, which was not surprising given a small
percentage of members were criminals wrapped up as businessmen.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Only as
much as I was present when the bodies were found."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Nearly
got killed over it, so they say."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry wanted to
ask him who 'they' were, but all he'd get would be a benign smile.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"They,
whoever they may be, seem to have interesting sources. If you have any idea who they might be, I'd
like to know."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He
shrugged. "So would I. I don't take kindly to people who harm our
members. Now, it's been a long time, and
I don't think you're here for a round of golf."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You're
right. It's about my father. Have you noticed anything unusual about him
in the last week or so. I know he was
here Monday, which is unusual."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Not as
unusual as you'd think. You know your
father dies s lot of business out on the links.
Been costing some new visits, and prospective members."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Anyone
we know?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"You know
I can't tell you that, I've probably said too much already. No, none of our business really. Now, staying or going?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I think
I'll wander around a bit, it's been a while."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Your
brother Robert is here by the way. He's
probably in the bar."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Bit
early?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Not for
him. You have your membership
card?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Fortunately,
he did, remembering the rules, not that the card left his wallet unless it
came time to replace it. It was so long
since he'd used it, it was sticking to the leather insert.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He swiped it
in the machine, and it brought up the last time he'd visited, two years
before. That time it was at the behest
of his father, to meet a new client, one that had a daughter that his mother
considered 'the right sort of young lady he should be associating with'.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil passed
the card back. "You might want to
look in on your brother. He seems a bit
lost at the moment. Your father was a
little harsh with him about a week ago, a job he was supposed to do, and
didn't."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Cecil was the
sort of person who knew everything that was going on but rarely said
anything. Perhaps he was worried about
Robert, though my experience, admonishment usually rolled off him like water off
a duck's back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">On the other
hand, it might be linked to his father's departure and warranted further
investigation. Checking out his locker
would have to wait a little longer, not that Harry expected to find anything.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Worth a
moment to check up on him. Mr Walthenson
can be a bit of a bastard at times."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Only
recently Harry. Got a phone call, out on
the verandah about a month back. Turned
purple some said, and then threw the phone against the wall as hard as he could. No prizes for guessing what that was
about."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">With the
knowing look, Harry thought better than to ask, because, given a direct question,
he'd cite privacy, but letting him talk, as he was wont to do, some days, he
could inadvertently let slip some very useful information.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">That was
useful.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"For you
maybe, for us that live with him, he can be a bit like a firecracker on the
fourth of July. I'll pop in and see
Robert."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Another member
came along, and Harry lost the focus of his attention.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry made a
note to self, get his father's phone records, and check the dates, find out who
the caller was.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He waved to
Cecil, but the man didn't notice, now deep in conspiratorial conversation with
the member who'd just arrived and headed towards the bar.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-4756960751110244242022-09-29T08:13:00.002-07:002022-09-29T08:13:53.146-07:00Case 2 - Episode 35 - An interesting discussion<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Mandy
Prenderville went over to her high-backed chair behind the desk and sat down
carefully. She had motioned me to one
opposite her, and I took the middle seat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry thought he’d
better open the conversation. “How did
you know I was coming?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“It wouldn’t
take you very long to discover the connection between your father and me via
his golf. I take it you are looking for
him?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“How could you
possibly know that?” OK, so curiosity
got the better of him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“He is
missing, isn’t he?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“The question
still stands.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“I happen to
be looking for him too. An outstanding
matter he was working on. I’m not used
to people up and disappearing on me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">As much as Harry hated to think it, according to some of the reports on the Prenderville’s,
that’s exactly what happened to rivals and those who got in their way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He didn’t bring
that topic up for obvious reasons.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“My mother
seems to think he had left her for another woman, which I might add, seems to
be the thinking of a number of others. I
have a hard time believing that might be the case, this time.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was
difficult to say what sort of expression she had, but it changed suddenly, to
very dark, like Harry had just trodden on her toes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“You have a
different theory?” Her tone had lost
some of its geniality.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“I have no
real theory at the moment other than going around and visiting his business and
golfing associates and asked them a few questions about him and their
relationship with him. Yours, you say,
is golf. From what I’ve read about you,
golf is hardly a sport I would associate you with.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Playing,
yes. It’s a bit tedious walking around
hitting a little white ball. But it
seems it is a great medium for charitable outings, and, as you are no doubt
away, I do run a Foundation, and we are always looking for new ways to raise
money. Your father, though you may not
believe it to be the case, was very good at organising golf weekends for the
foundation.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“And now he’s
gone will that fall to Emil Florenz.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Expression changes
again, hard to incredulous maybe. Harry was
not very good at analysing people’s expressions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She took a
moment to assess, in her mind, what she was going to tell Harry. Then, after what could be called a shrug, she
said, “Well, you have been a busy boy.
Your father once told me you were a failure at everything you tried, but
I put that down to the fact you had just walked away from a promising legal
career, the career he wanted for you. I
don’t think he ever appreciated your more interesting talents in the private
investigatory area. I assure you I will
not make the same mistake. Florenz is a
golfer, and a friend of your fathers, and therefore by proxy, known to me
yes. And yes, he might have to organise
the golf events while your father is away.
And before you ask me if I know where he is, I will reiterate, he was
doing a job for me, and my people are trying to find him too.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There
was no doubting their connection was golf, she said it enough times. But in watching her closely, and those facial
expressions, Harry thought he had worked out when she was lying and when she was telling
the truth. And for the last few minutes, Harry believed he hadn’t heard one word of truth.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">His father was
more likely to be doing a legal consultation of some sort for her. It might even have something to do with that
portside block if she was the mysterious owner.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He could ask
her, but Harry was willing to bet hr would not get further than her door before the
security guards dragged him off.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">But Harry still
couldn’t tell if she had anything to do with his disappearance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Change of
tack. “Do you know my mother?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A half smile perhaps. “In a manner of speaking. She had attended a number of Foundation
functions and been a contributor to our cause for a number of years. Ever since I’ve known her I really couldn’t
understand why she married your father.
You do know she is very wealthy in her own right, and she doesn’t need
anything from either your father or his business. And no, she had never put a penny of her
family money into his practice, a sore point with him I can tell you.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The fact Harry's mother had money was something she had told Corinne and him, but not necessarily
his brothers, but not to the extent that it would make a difference. He had checked it out when he had some idle
time, and the sums involved in her parent’s businesses, and that of her fellow
siblings made the Rockefellers look cheap.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She had lied
and he’d never understood why. She could
also have invested in Harry's private investigator venture, but she refused that too, telling him that
like his father he had to find his own way in the world. It was a variation on the, ‘if I give you the money you won’t go out to work for it’ speech.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He could ask
more about that, but it would only be from a third-party perspective, if at
all. Better to move on. “What was my father doing for you?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“A legal
matter.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Couldn’t
elaborate?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Perhaps if you
were one of his lawyers I might, after signing a non-disclosure agreement, but
as you are not, I can’t tell you?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“A hint then,
criminal or civil?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Your father
doesn’t do criminal unless you think he was defending me. I read the papers, and they do not like
me. I don’t know why, I’m out there
every day looking after the homeless, and those who can’t afford proper medical
help.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Perhaps it’s
the reputation your brothers brought to the name Prenderville. Perhaps if you changed the name of both
yourself and the foundation…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Advice, by the
look on her face, was not sought.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“It might, but
it’ll be a cold day in hell before I do that.
Now, that’s all I can tell you, except for one observation, your father
spent a lot of his time at the golf club, and I suspect it became his proxy
office. Dig a little, and see if he has left
anything there. You never know. Now, I don’t expect to see you again.”<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There was no
doubt in Harry's opinion, the meeting was over.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-72922795232502091552022-09-27T09:17:00.000-07:002022-09-27T09:17:20.841-07:00Case 2 - Episode 34 - The Prenderville Foundation<p>The
Prenderville Foundation was in a building off-Broadway, not far from where the
twin towers used to stand.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was not far
from Wall Street or City Hall, and when I looked at my phone, I saw that
Felicity was not far away, having followed Florenz from the Starbucks near the
Woolworth building to City Hall.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was an
interesting place for a man of his profession to go. Perhaps he was trying to drum up business
among the civic leaders.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Was it
significant that Mandy had set up her business in this district, not far from
Wall Street, and Civic Hall, where a lot of her most ardent admirers were
located?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">To be honest,
I wasn’t all that interested in where the Foundation's money came from, it was much
the same as those ex-presidential foundations, always flush with funds, but
you’re never sure what those funds are being used for, and the newspapers,
every now and then made allegations which quickly died as fast as they rose
when rich and powerful lawyers start arriving at the chief editor’s office in
numbers.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I was just
interested in whether she knew my father, and if she did, what their business
relationship was. Of course, I fully
expected to get bundled out the door by two burly bouncers long before that
happened.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">That was how I
found myself outside the front door, looking in.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A gust of cold
air brushed me as I stood there, and for a day that had been still and warm, I
had to take it as an omen. Nothing good
was going to come of this. I should take
heed, turn around, and walk away.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">For about five
seconds I had the resolve to do just that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">On the sixth
second, I took a deep breath and walked through the doors.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I had been
expecting a soup kitchen or something similar, with lines of homeless people
gratefully accepting food and a place to sit in relative comfort and warmth
behind the shaded windows. It was
anything but that, with a counter, a wall, and a door. I assumed if you had a good enough excuse,
you could get through the door, and to the other side.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I walked up to
the counter and stood there, waiting.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There were two
people behind the counter, dressed in clothes that told me they were Foundation
workers, a uniform of sorts, and both were talking, a conversation that was not
about work, but an upcoming party at the weekend. One had been invited, the other not, and the
not was wondering why.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Visitors
clearly weren’t a priority.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A quick check
at the ceiling level showed two cameras that would cover the whole foyer. It would certainly pick up my face, and it
was probably being viewed by a faceless security guard in a small room
somewhere, assessing if I was a threat.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Still, the
invitation-less employee was bemoaning his bad fortune.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I looked at my
watch. Three and a half minutes. I was considering making them aware of my
presence, but I decided this would be a game, betting mentally with myself on how
long it would take before they realized I was standing on the other side of the
counter.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Five
minutes. The phone rang, and the nearest
staff member picked it up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There were a
number of changes in facial expression, from annoyance, to surprise, to fear,
and then astonishment. Then he replaced
the receiver and turned.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Miss
Prenderville is sending her personal assistant down to collect you. She said to say she’s been expecting you.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">OK, my turn
for a surprise then astonishment. “You
don’t even know my name yet.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“You are Harry
Walthenson, aren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Then we do
know who you are Mr Walthenson.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The side door
opened and a Chinese woman of indeterminate age came out. “Mr Walthenson, I presume?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I nodded.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Then come
this way please.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Without
another word I followed her through the door that led to a corridor running
down a long wall, to an elevator lobby.
An elevator was waiting for us, one with a driver, we stepped in, he
closed the door, and we went up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">One, Two,
Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven. Stop.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The door
opened and we stepped out. We walked
along another corridor to what I thought was a corner office where the
assistant knocked on the door, opened it, and motioned for me to pass through.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Once inside,
the door closed behind me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I was the only
one in that room. On two sides there
were windows that looked out towards the Hudson, and, if I stood in the right
position, I could see the Statue of Liberty.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was largely
empty except for a desk, three chairs and several sideboard cupboards. Down the side to my left was a doorway,
closed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The room had
CCTV cameras as had each of the corridors, so someone had been watching me from
the moment I stepped into the building, or even as I approached the building.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I stood in the
centre of the room and waited.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">After two
minutes, the side door opened and a woman I recognised as Mandy Prenderville
came into the room. She looked different
from the photos I’d seen of her, then she had been about 200 pounds, now she
was no more than 80. It made a
considerable difference, especially if I were to use some of the facial
recognition software.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She came over
to me, hand outstretched.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It’s good to
see you, Harry. You look just like your
father at that age, you know.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I shook hands
which felt strange.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Sit, let’s
talk.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-75702263144496604122022-09-26T08:19:00.000-07:002022-09-26T08:19:49.096-07:00Case 2 - Episode 33 - Mandy Prenderville<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry always
tried to make out that computers and he didn’t get along. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The truth was,
he didn’t like them, not because they had suddenly become a universal tool on
every desk, in every house, and now in everyone’s left or right hand, but
because of the impact they had on your privacy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And the fact,
now, in the age of computers, you had none.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Unless, of
course, you chose not to have a footprint, which was Harry s first choice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Ellen had
convinced him otherwise. She had
completed a computer course in college and said she could ‘put them on the map’
with a website. Harry initially said no,
but she worked on him, and in the end, persistence won over, and he left that
side of the business to her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">On the strict
proviso that little personal information found its way there.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He let Ellen
set up a website for the investigative business, and she had spent days, if not
weeks, finding a website host and reading a large number of books about
programming. Every day he’d come in, he
picked one up off her desk, flicked through the pages, and put it back down
again. There were very few words that he
understood.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Still, at the
end of the first month there was something quite interesting to look at, and,
the very day it went live, Ellen had taken two calls, one of which led to a
job. One she kept reminding him, that
paid for the whole of the web sites costs.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He had to
begrudgingly agree computers were going to be useful.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The one on his
desk had lain ideal for months, and, today, he decided to turn it on. The previous one had been stolen in the
break-in, so this was new and different.
And Ellen had yet to set it up properly for him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But he did
know how to load the web browser and typed in the name of his father’s legal
practice, and it went straight to the website.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He’d seen it
before, and thought it very bland, but what he expected from a group of
lawyers. They left the impact of wealth
and power to the visit to the office, not a flashy website. All it had was small bios on everyone who was
anyone and the types of law they handled.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There were, of
course, closed areas of the site that needed a login, one which he didn’t have,
but he was going to ask Giselle if he, or Ellen since Giselle knew her, could
be granted access. He vaguely remembered
his father saying there were areas set up for each of the partners to keep a
record of their activities, and notes on cases.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Perhaps there
might be a clue in his files.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry had also
noticed that Ellen had set up areas on their own website where each of the
employees could log in, and she had left a post-it note on his desk with his
login and temporary password. There, she
noted, were folders for each of his current cases.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">When he logged
in, he saw he could add new cases, and create case notebooks, so he created one
for his next target, Mandy Prenderville.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">About a minute
after he created the file, Ellen was in the doorway, knocking on the door jamb
to get his attention.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">“Yes?” he
said, looking up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">“Mandy
Prenderville? Seriously? In what lifetime do you think she would have
anything to do with any case you were investigating?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She had a
serious expression, and a look of fear in her eyes. She obviously knew who Many Prenderville was.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">“It’s one of
the leads we’ve uncovered. My father
apparently had some connection to her, perhaps in a charity sense, but I have
to find out.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">“Are you
mad? You know who she is? Don’t believe everything you read about her
in the papers. My grandmother can tell
you stories about her that would make your hair curl/”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">“I know. Tread carefully. Since I’m not all that good at searching for
information, can you have a look, and let me know what you find. I’ll just poke around the edges.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She shook her
head and stopped short of saying ‘it’ll be your funeral.’ But I could read lips, and that’s what I
thought she said. It also could have
been, you are a complete fool.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There were
several different directions to go in relation to searching for information on
Mandy Prenderville, the first, was to follow her brothers on an odyssey of drugs,
crimes, and death. The other, was that of a
woman who was striving to make up for the shortcomings of her brothers, by
running a charitable institution that had won everyone who was anyone over.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Except for one
lone voice in the wilderness, a person with the internet handle of
@downwithevilprendervilles, who made one simple statement, she was taking from
the poor and giving it to the rich in the form of bribes. Why else would anyone believe that sob story
that she is trying to redeem the Prenderville’s.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Dangerous
words to a very dangerous woman. I
wondered briefly if the person behind the handle had adequate protection. I’d have to ask Ellen if she could track down to who the handle belonged to.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">I went to the
Prenderville Foundation page and it didn’t have a lot to say about the
foundation or it’s principal. The bio
spoke of her in only glowing terms, and any reference to her brothers, or the
criminal activities the family had been accused of over the years was sadly
lacking.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">I typed in the
name and it came back with the father’s name at the top of the list. He’d been killed in a gangster shootout, one
family trying to gain the ascension over the other, and the Prenderville’s lost
that day. Several months later the head
of the rival family was found floating face down in the Hudson, but no killer
had yet been found. And for the lack of
evidence and witnesses, the Prenderville father’s killer had got away with it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Next was
Jason, the dead brother, and after reading three articles on his record as a
master criminal, it was fair to say he was anything but. Three jobs, three disasters, in fact, each of
them vied for a spot on a show called ‘the world’s worst criminals. But, as guilty as he seemed, they’d got him
on charges that did not relate to his criminality.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Clever. I would call that the Al Capone factor. Careless though, an old rival in the jail
they sent him and his brother, shanked and killed him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">The same
assassin tried to kill Mason and failed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Mason
Prenderville was a different kettle of fish, as the saying goes. He was squeaky clean, had others do his
dirty work, and ruled by fear and intimidation.
Anyone questioned him, they were dead within 24 hours. But in one instance, one that defied
explanation, he had gone totally off book and killed a rival in front of
witnesses, witnesses he could neither intimidate or buy. Now he was serving a life sentence, or more
than one. He had only one lifetime and
that’s how long he’d be staying in jail.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">On whether
they were guilty or innocent, Mandy had always maintained they had both been
framed, and it was illogical that Jason could be guilty, despite the five
independent witnesses produced to verify where he was and what he did.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She had bought
the best lawyer, and the best lawyer couldn’t get him off. The best lawyer was now a lawyer with a limp. And not so many customers for his
services. I added him to my list of
potential people who could tell me about Mandy, especially if he hated the
family so much, he would waive his professional integrity.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">I made a note
of that particular lead and closed the file.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It was time to
go and pay Mandy a visit.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She was going
to be downtown at the coal face of her charity, meeting and greeting the
needy. 1 had to wonder, though, what
sort of needy people would turn up to a downtown storefront.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2022</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-62156226589089086982022-09-24T09:28:00.000-07:002022-09-24T09:28:28.913-07:00Case 2 - Episode 32 - – Giselle and her secrets<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">His mother’s
email was sparely used, had various references to her charity work, and
communications with the likes of Florenz, and others. Florenz, it seemed, was happy to report on
the activities of her husband. It was
clear that to him she had married the wrong man. But there were no declarations of love
between his mother and Florenz, nor anything that could be construed he
disliked Xavier Walthenson.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Argeter didn't
figure in any conversation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">But there were
others, some of whom Harry knew of rather than knew personally, and one in
particular, his mother's younger sister, and most vocal against Xavier from her
side of the family. Harry knew his aunt,
had once been on a trip to Vegas with both women, and learned then his aunt was
a drunk, drug addict and a sleaze, and whose bad conclusions about his father
were borne from being rejected by him before he married her older sister.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He hadn't seen
Aunt Betty for a few years, the last he'd been told was she was going through
another stint of rehab and trying to dodge five to twenty years in jail for
killing a passenger in her car, her last husband. Perhaps she'd finally been jailed, not that
it would do much to help her. By all
accounts the man had been a brute and was mixed up is some very dodgy business.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">That Xavier
was in charge of her defence was telling, because he didn’t have much time for
the scornful, if not evil sister whom he had made an obvious mistake getting
involved with.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">And then Harry
saw it. An email from three days
ago. From the sister, Betty. She was in town, at the Ritz Carleton hotel
on Central Park, requesting a visit.
Just like her to issue commands, and expect to get her way, like the
queen bee.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Another note
in his book. Room number, and there was
no date she was leaving.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry was
tempted to look at his brothers' emails but that could wait for another day. He heard voices at the top of the stairs, one
of them being Giselle, so he shut down the computer and moved to the sofa
opposite her desk and sat down to wait for her arrival.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">When she saw
Harry sitting in the chair, she looked, momentarily, surprised, then covering
it well with a slight stumble.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Harry? Tell me you haven’t stopped to sneaking up on
people?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“It’s my
business to be both invisible, and stealthy.
But, no, not here, and definitely not with you. Unless, of course, you have something to hide?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Me? No. An
open book, as you know.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She sat down
behind the desk. “But me thinks you have
questions, perhaps about the Prendevilles'?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Getting ahead
of the narrative, Harry thought, and a sure sign that she wanted to control
this interview.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“When you
dropped that name, I’m sure you weren’t implying my father was having a
relationship with Mandy. I did some digging,
and it seems she has a similar passion for charity events, perhaps trying to
change public opinion of her.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“She would
like to think so. Your father’s
connection is only by way of charity unless of course, you have uncovered
something else. Have you spoken to her
yet?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“It’s on the
list. How much do you know about my
mother and Florenz?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She
smiled. “You have been a busy boy. They are part of a tightly knit group from
university days. I don’t think you
should be judging her given the antics of your father, I’m not surprised.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry viewed
his grandmother, the woman who was his father’s mother, the woman who had been
scorned by his grandfather, in a new light, one, up to now, he would never have
thought possible. Quiet and unassuming,
blending into the fabric in the background, always watching, always learning,
Harry was sure she knew everything that was going on, and why.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">And that
somewhere in her armoury was that long knife she was going to stick in Alicia’s
back at the appropriate time. Perhaps
she had one for all of them and was just biding her time, down in the
basement, the metaphorical spider's web.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“You may not
know where my father is, but you know why he’s not here. And, don’t tell me it’s because of another
woman. He’s got himself mixed up in
something that impinges on that group you were referring to, and I’m guessing
Argeter is involved. Mother really
doesn’t like him.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Your mother
had him worked over very early on when he tried to shake her down. He’s not very endearing, and I always
believed he had some hold over your father who was rather reckless in his
younger days. You might want to
investigate what he got up to back in university. But a word to the wise, be careful around
Argeter. He knows some very bad people.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A name that
needs to be moved up the list, perhaps Felicity could make discreet enquiries.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Any chance I
could see the file you have on Alicia.
I’m betting it’s the thickest in your filing cabinet, and nothing
complimentary in it.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“That’s for me
to know and for you to find out. I’m not
going to make your job any easier for you.
Alicia is a special kind of animal in this jungle, and you really don’t
want to make an enemy out of her.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">So, things
learned, Harry thought. There is a file,
somewhere. Giselle knew everything and
everyone. And, there was going to be a
day of reckoning.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“If there’s
nothing else, Harry, I’d better start justifying my presence here.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Don’t leave
town.”<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Oh, I’m not
going anywhere, anytime soon. Believe
me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-63247596748510303662022-09-22T06:50:00.009-07:002022-09-22T06:50:57.149-07:00Case 2 - Episode 31 - Harry and Giselle<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Of all the
people in the office, Harry considered Giselle his favourite, and she
his. At least that was the impression
she gave him from the very first days he was taken there as a child, and later
when doing work experience.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She had made
the law fun and was one of the reasons why Harry had originally chosen to follow
a career in law. To begin with, at any
rate.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">But, as Harry
began to discover when he started law school, the law was anything but fun. It was a time when he also discovered that
she hadn't been showing him the right way to do things. And that, Harry considered, was wrong, and
caused him to suspect her motives for doing so.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It went on to
fuel an investigation into her background, her style of practising the law, and
her knowledge of the law in practice.
And that investigation had ended with a discovery that changed
everything, and especially his desire the practise law at all. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A simple open
and shut case, Sims v Simpson, a case brought by Sims that alleged that a piece
of property belonged to him, and not the defendant. Suffice to say, documents were discovered,
documents were either altered or forged, and a travesty of justice was
enacted. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A year later,
her role in the case was discovered, and it led to a very quiet end to what had been, up to then, an interesting career, if somewhat lacklustre after she had
married the elder Walthenson.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It could be
said she tried to use the case to impress her husband, but by then their
relationship had fractured past the point of no return and the marriage was
over. What had been planned as her
saving grace had exactly the opposite effect she had hoped for.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Officially,
she had ended up in the basement because she decided it was time to stop front-line lawyering as she called it, and move into a research role. And not long after that old man Walthenson
divorced her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Not because of
another woman, younger and more motivated, but because of a legal disaster that
cost the practice a small fortune to keep it private.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was just
another secret, one of many that pervaded any legal practice. The saying, he had heard spoken of in hushed
tones within those hallowed hallways, if the court doesn't know about it, no
harm done.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Winning then,
apparently, was everything, no matter what the cost.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">But it was
another powerful reason why Harry hated the idea of becoming a lawyer, and even
more so in his father's practice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">And after
making the discovery which Harry knew his father was privy to, but never spoken
of, he decided to keep it to himself as well
No need to upset their rather fractious relationship any further. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Not unless he
needed it as a bargaining chip.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Giselle wasn't
at her desk that morning he decided to visit the office. Fortunately, neither of his brothers were
there either, both out visiting clients.
<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A quick chat
with Merilyn told him that Giselle would not be in until later that morning, so
it gave him time to poke around in the filing system, one that Giselle had
devised to keep others from finding anything in the research system unless she
delivered it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She had told
him a long time before what she had to do to ensure her continued employment
and had shown it to Harry, whether deliberately or by mistake, and thus he also
knew his way around the filing and computer systems. He had been hoping she might be out because
he wanted to look at some of the files, if there were any, relating to the
dockside plot.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He needed to
know what his father had known.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He also needed
to look at his father's electronic diary, not something he could do by asking Merilyn
his personal assistant, if she would open it for him. His credentials for the investigation, given
by his mother, were not all-encompassing, and anything she hadn't considered
blocking, his brother Robert, had. That
was reason enough to believe his brother had something to hide or was currying
favour from Alicia.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There were too
many important company trade secrets that the practice could not afford to give
access to his brother had told him, a valid enough reason. Harry thought he would ask first, knowing
that he wasn't going to take heed of his brother's decree. It wouldn't be difficult to get what he
needed, and the icing on the cake, he would do it using his brother's access
code, and what that didn't cover, well, he had the back door login used by the
programmers, people he had worked with when they were installing and setting up
the systems.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was this he
could use to gain access to the master hard drive where everything was stored,
and where, particularly, his father's and brothers' diaries were stored. He was not interested, yet, in any other
diaries other than those belonging to the family. It also included his mother whom he knew
sometimes consulted for the practice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">And there were
also the email accounts, always a go-to when things went awry in business, and
something the others didn't know, deleting emails didn't actually delete them,
it just hid them from view.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Fortunately
for him, the server bank was installed down in a room off the archive and was
rarely visited except by the maintenance company, and any one of three
servicemen. Giselle also poked her head
in the door from time to time, pretending she didn't know what was going on,
and was, as far as Henry was concerned, more switched on to an opportunity when
one presented itself to her, and poking around in the computer’s filing system
was one of them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She had been
the first person to put her hand up as a network system administrator.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There were two
computers side by side, near the server room door, one an administrative
machine, the other for upstairs staff to use for searches of online documents.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The first
thing Harry did was put a USB drive into the main server to upload a small
program that Felicity said would enable her to log in as an administrator and
leave no trace of her activity. He
trusted her when she said it would not do anything else.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Then Harry sat
at the search machine so that if anyone came down, they would not see him on
the admin machine and raise suspicions.
He knew the necessary login information worked on both machines, unlike
those upstairs in the offices, set up for only one user, and their rather
narrow permissions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He logged into
the mail administrator and brought up all the accounts. His father was first, and he picked three
days on either side of his disappearing.
Those emails before were standard requests and discussion points with
clients as he gathered evidence and discussed strategy for his current cases,
and then one, from Argeter, setting up lunch the day he disappeared. Nothing was added to say what it was about,
just a time and a place. He noted down
the details in his notebook.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry then
narrowed the search to only Argeter's emails, and firstly, noted a consistent
email on the 25th of May of each year reminding his father of the interest and
principal repayment due but the end of the month. An amount wasn't mentioned but Harry got the
impression it was a substantial amount.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry then
checked for an expense spreadsheet, a specially created ledger account each of
the lawyers had so they could bill their time and expenses to clients and found
no mention of Argeter. It must be, he
thought, somewhere else, though it was odd to Harry that the head of chambers
didn't have such information.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry made a
note that it might be a secret loan, his father not wanting to borrow money
from his wife, or her family, or, for that matter, his father, what was once a
sticking point for him. Another note
gave the impression that Argeter might be a reason for his disappearance,
perhaps because he couldn't pay back the money.
Or did his father use the money for gambling? He remembered a long time ago when he and
his brothers were home for the holidays, the arguments their parents had over
his father's drinking and gambling.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was an odd
memory that popped into his head, the fact that his father had resented the
fact his wife was an heiress, and richer than he ever would be, and the fact
that he had told her he would make his own way in the world, without the
benefit of her wealth. They seemed to
him, now, such an unlikely couple, and more than once he had thought she might
be better off without him. That shine of
those early days of marriage had long worn off, and she had often moved in her
circle without him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">More than once
his friends had told him his parents were 'odd fish'.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Odd fish
indeed.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2022</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-19525491027636366232022-09-20T07:04:00.001-07:002022-09-20T07:04:35.856-07:00Case 2 - Episode 30 – Being candid doesn’t describe it<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was
doubtful children gave any thought to whether or not their parents were having
affairs, international or domestic criminals, but more whether they were good
or bad parents.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It may have
been a little different for those children whose parents had a big profile in
the community, because the obsession the general public had in following
celebrities making fools of themselves.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There was a
stage where Harry, and later Corinne, dreaded opening the newspaper at
breakfast for fear of seeing their father’s latest folly. That fear had faded once he left home, and
Corinne to a lesser extent now she had grown up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Their mother,
on the other hand, often graced to pages of the newspapers for other reasons,
and it was true when she said that if, and that was a very big if, she was to
seek attachments, she would be very discreet.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"After
all, it seems you took this long to find out, and then, only because I chose to
admit it. And I expect you to be equally
discreet, because it has nothing to do with your investigation."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">That was a
moot point, it could have everything to do with it, but Harry was happy to tell
her what she wanted to hear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The admission
though fuelled a personal curiosity.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Did you
always know he would be unfaithful? You
had the pick of any one of four, a group that interestingly called itself the
four musketeers, and you chose him. Why
not Florenz?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Emile
was not interested, then, committing to one girl, and still doesn't believe in
monogamy. At the time I did, and your
father was of like mind. He was under a
lot of pressure to marry well, and my parents wanted me off their hands, as
shocking as that might sound."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry had not
had a very good relationship with his grandparents on his mother's side, and
come to think of it, on his father's side either, not when he realised his
heart was not in law. His paternal
grandfather was not a good role model, at least not after he dumped Giselle for Alicia,
and coming on top of his father's infidelities, it was no surprise his brothers
were like their father.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">His mother’s
parents had always looked down on his father, to the point where if they ever
visited, it was when his father was away, or if they went there, it was almost
always without their father. Worse
still, they had no interest in the progeny of their daughter, and for a long
time Harry had attributed that attitude to their being among the wealthiest
people in the country.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Now, it sees that
it was simply a matter of disliking her choice of husband. That could easily have been remedied by just
leaving him and moving on, but she hadn't.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"So,
why are you still here?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I could
use that trite excuse of for the sake of the children, but you've all grown up
now, and Corinne can look after herself.
I might be a lot of things but deserting you, no matter what the
provocation, was never a priority. These
days marriage is a joke, just look at the number of divorce cases the practice
handles, but it isn't to me, and despite everything your father still is my one
and only real love. That's a rarity in
this disposable world, and you should count yourself lucky if you find the one. That's why I would never harm him, even if
the off thought passes through my mind from time to time."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Looking at
her, listening to her, there was no doubting the affection she had for
him. And she was right about the world
of disposable relationships, it was far too easy to rid yourself of a problem
and move on to the next.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The practice
had several clients who had been marries and divorced more times than fingers
on one hand. Out specially, and what
should come as no surprise, was the prenuptial agreement.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">In his mother’s
case, there was no financial briefing in his premature death, not unless there
was an insurance policy on his life.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Does Dad
have life insurance."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"No. Never needed it."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Or
you?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"No. Anything happens to me; he gets an annuity
that will be more than adequate.
Anything happens to him, I get nothing, just in case you are thinking of
using money as motivation the kill him.
I don't need his money, not that there is any."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"What
about his share in the practise?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Oh
that? There is very little he will see
of it, the way his father had treated him in the will. He'd promised Xavier a full half share along
with that grubby little harlot he married, but died before he could change the
will, which, after a blazing row between father and son, left Xavier with
nothing. His father was a proper
bastard, and he should have just left after his father died and taken his
clients with him."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">So, no one in
the practise was going to kill him for his share because there was no
share. A business he had successfully
helped his father to build into the business it was now, and get no compensation
or recognition, which must have hurt.
Just having to work with his father's mistress have been particularly galling.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There was
question there, why didn't he leave?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry could
see his mother was getting restless, and he realised that he had been dragged
off track by a very skilled manipulator.
Had she been leading him away in the direction of Gillian?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"There's
the other two musketeers, Alexander Argeter, and Clay Shawville. I'm assuming you remember these two, who are
Dads current golfing foursome, both date back to your university days, and I
will not believe you if you day you don't know them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He'd been
watching her expression when he told her the two names, one was benign, but the
other raised an expression that demonstrated hatred. Or worse. Argeter. It was obvious that she did not like him. More digging into their school days was
warranted <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I take
it you dislike Argeter."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"He was a
pest then and a worse pest now. If you
want to whatever that deep dive is that you referred to, he'd be the one I'd be
looking at."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"What do
you know about him?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">I saw her
shudder, which to Harry meant something really bad happened.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I don't
want to talk about him, now or ever."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry
shrugged. She might not get that luxury
later, depending in what he turned up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Shawville?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"He's
from very wealthy but remarkably sane parents, never had to do anything in his
life, except go from one holiday to the next.
Only here a few times a year for golf and, well, I don't know what they
get up to, and don't want to know."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"You see
him when he's here?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Sometimes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Her tone
indicated that there might be more to it, and his expression might have showed
it, because she added, “But not in the way you might think.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Expect there
was an inflection in it that told him otherwise, and just the way she mentioned
his name.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“We were all
friends back at University.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">If that was
meant to be an explanation, it wasn’t helping.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“Make of it
what you will Harry, but there’s nothing to be gained from it, and certainly
nothing to do with your father disappearing.
Perhaps you should go to the den of iniquity called the golf club. It’s where he spent the rest of his time when
he was not in the office, and, if you ask me, it was his office. Now, if that’s all…”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It would
matter if it was not, Harry knew he was being dismissed, and that odd feeling
he was being sent on a wild goose chase.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Before that,
there was just enough time to catch up with Giselle.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2022<o:p></o:p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-17102901138050376102022-06-26T17:26:00.000-07:002022-09-20T09:33:07.046-07:00Case 2 - Episode 29 - Harry back home again<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Home hadn't
been home for quite some time, because Harry, unlike his brothers, wanted to
distance himself from his father, and the family business.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">He didn't have
to, but inside that home was a stifling effect that cast a pall over any form
of resistance, and it despaired him to see his brother's becoming their father.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His father was
not a good role model, because of his disregard for the sanctity of marriage,
he was less scrupulous when it came to taking on clients, cherry picking the
most lucrative, rather than on merit.
Admittedly that attitude started with his father, but there had been an
opportunity to change it, and he hadn't.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Then there was
his mother, though he was not sure the description fitted, because it seemed
she was devoid of any form of emotion or attachment, except for Corinne, though
that was not as good as a daughter needed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">It might be
why Corinne was detached herself.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">But he had
never considered the whys and wherefores of how the family had got to this
point, he had just accepted that rich people were all dysfunctional, that his
parents went their own separate ways, and the kids were left to fend for
themselves, provided they did as was expected.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">If he had a
choice, though, he would prefer not to know anything about his parents, other
than what they had told them over the years, which was precisely nothing. Admittedly, none of them asked, so perhaps it
was on them that they knew so little.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Now, with his
father missing, he was about to a deep dive into their history. Already there was one secret about to come
out of Pandora's box. His mother’s
relationship with Florenz.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">There were
four of them, back in university days, who called themselves the four musketeers. This revelation was from Felicity who had
done the initial groundwork from school papers, and it gave a more lighthearted view of their time at law school, and two of whom were also looking at
accounting and business management <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">What was
clear, to both of them, that his mother was, back then, more involved with Florenz
than his father, and if the reports were true, his father was the weakest of the
four study wise, and now Harry realised he was lucky to pass the bar exam.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">And surprised
that his mother was the best and smartest of all of them. Harry had questions, some of them she was going
to get annoyed with. He was going to need
a plan to manage her, which was odd when he said it in his mind that he would have
to.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Which,
standing outside the front door, Harry was trying to come to grips with. There was a strong possibility she might
cancel his commission if he pushed too hard, but that was the only way he was
going to get a result <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry had a key to
the door, thought about knocking in the door, but then decided the surprise
factor was more important.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Inside the
door in the little anteroom, he stopped to listen, but it was silent. He wondered where [name] was, she was usually
bustling about making herself look busy, even if she wasn't. His mother could be a pain sometimes, and he had wondered more than once why she stayed.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Out into the
formal living area, he noticed several subtle changes in the decor, the old
leather chairs had gone, the chairs his father said had been handed down through
the generations and were, in his opinion. heirlooms.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">My mother
considered them junk, and knowing the family she came from, she would know what
and what was not an heirloom. Was it
tine for a change now my father wasn't here?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Harry,
what are you doing here?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">His mother had
come up the passage, possibly from her office.
She stopped when she saw him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I came
on the off chance you would be here. I
have a few questions."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She looked at
me in that witheringly manner she used on his father when she could tolerate his
presence no longer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"I did
not kill him, nor do I know where he is.
Nor do I have the time to participate in whatever it is you have
planned."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She was
dressed to go out, perhaps a lunch with her friends, or an assignation. Now that her husband was not looking over her
shoulder, maybe she was taking advantage of his absence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Now, if
you don't mind," she picked up her handbag from the coffee table and
started walking towards the front entrance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">I expected as
much.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"We can
do this the hard way or the easy way," I said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Two more
steps, then she stopped and turned.
"You can discontinue the assignment. Tell me how much I owe you."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Not unexpected
either. "Then it's the hard
way. You can dismiss me from the case,
but that doesn't mean I'll stop, in fact, it'll simply move you to the top of
the suspect list, and I'll start by take a deep dive into your life."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"And why
would you do that?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"Well,
that meeting you had with Emile Florenz the other morning, where he all but
told you that asking me to investigate was a mistake wouldn't have anything to
do with it. Or did you get him to remove
Dad from the playing board? After all,
you've been having an affair with him off and on since university days."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">Harry expected
vehement denials, or a flash of that temper she had exercised on her hapless
husband after being caught out yet again, not the tilted head and wry
smile. "My God, you're good. He was right, but I figured at some point you
were going to draw one of several conclusions.
I hope you're not going to be sanctimonious about what you're labelling an
affair."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"To be
honest, I don't care what you do, so long as there's no repercussions on
Corinne or me. The other boys are clones
of their father which is disappointing, so they probably wouldn't understand
what was happening anyway."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"If it's
any consolation, I would never let that happen, unlike your father who it seems
doesn't care. It was not always like
that."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">She obviously
changed her mind, and headed back to one of the lounge chairs, and indicated
that Harry should sit in another.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt;">"So, what
are your questions?"<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2021 </p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-25534344215884211382022-06-25T16:47:00.000-07:002022-06-25T16:47:27.863-07:00Case 2 - Episode 28 – Back at the office<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">When Harry
walked into the office, the first thing he noticed was cardboard boxes and
plastic sheets stacked in a corner.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">The next, Gwen
was at her desk, looking slightly dishevelled.
There were any number of possible explanations, when there were noises
coming from the room next to his office.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A storeroom,
the ideal place to hide something, or someone.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">But that
didn't explain the cardboard and plastic.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"You're
looking a little flustered," Harry said, also noticing a rather sheepish
expression, like she'd been caught unexpectedly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Been
helping your, well, what is Felicity?
Private investigator partner, colleague, or girlfriend, or just a friend
who’s a girl?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Good
question. But that wasn't the first thing
that was on my mind. "Helping with
what?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"She
moved on. This office is rapidly
becoming an apartment."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">More noises
from the storeroom. Time to investigate.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He crossed the
room and stood outside the door for a minute before he knocked on the door. He was not quite sure why he would be knocking
on the door to the storeroom in his own office.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Is that
you Harry?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Why? Are you not decent?" Where the hell did that come from? Was he harbouring secret desires that were
only in his deep subconscious?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He heard a
laugh from behind the door. It was a
whole different Felicity than the one he had got used to, and had he somehow
forgotten that she was a very attractive woman.
He just hadn't thought of her in that way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Not until now.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Come in.
The doors not meant to be shut, it just
made it easier to move stuff around."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry opened
the door and stepped in. It was quite
large, meant to be a similar sized and purposed office to his own, just in case he ever took on another investigator. It
hadn't been on his mind, but perhaps it was time. Her father was happy for her to stay with him,
where he considered it would be impossible for her to get into trouble.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry didn't
have the temerity to tell him he was wrong.
The girl was trouble with a capital T, and just what he needed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">A wall of
shelves and filing cabinets, the last time he'd seen then, scattered, then a
sofa, desk, mini bar with refrigerator, and a large white board.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Felicity was
sitting behind the desk. "What do
you think?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Much
better than the last time I was in here."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">There was a
chair opposite the desk, so Harry sat in it.
More comfortable than the one he had.
Her chair was better than his too.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I knew
you wouldn't mind, and I can't keep sleeping on your sofa, can I?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Was there a
salacious invitation there or was his mind going down a path it shouldn't. There was no question they were in anything
other than a comfortable working relationship and should keep it that way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He liked her,
perhaps more than he should, but he was not sure what her feelings were towards
him. Best to leave it that way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Good
thinking." <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">He turned to
look at the whiteboard, something he had been considering buying himself. "We're moving into a more professional
mode. Is it time to put what we know up
there?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"No time
like the present."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">It was a
complicated case because of the number of people involved. A decision had to be made about who the
principal suspects were.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Your
mother, Emile Florenz, Clay Shawville, Alexander Argeter, all part of the gang
of five who've known and interacted with each other since university days. You are going to have to tackle your mother
over sine very delicate affairs. I'm
sure, from their body language, she's sleeping with him."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Nothing would
surprise him, and he knew Felicity wouldn't tell him unless she was
certain. The fact he knew very little
about his mother was disappointing. Now
she was under the spotlight, he was not sure if he wanted to know <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Then
there's both Gillian and Alicia, both of whom may or may not bear a grudge against
the father, particularly the latter.
It's worrying she knows Florenz, but I would put it past him to be sleeping
with her too."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“She is.” He shook his head. “You have no idea just how much that
disappoints me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">“It’s life
Harry. Most people are not monogamous.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"So, sex could
be a motivation, rather than greed, or for the moment it seems so. My father's endless affairs would be enough
to send any wife over the edge. It also
might mean any number jealous husbands and boyfriends. Come to that, it just might be a simple case
of screwing the wrong woman.,"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"It
might, but he left a note when he usually doesn’t. I think he's been planning this, or at the
very least, knew the day was coming that he would have to disappear for a
while."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">An interesting
premise, and one he could agree with.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Aside
from my mother, what other lines of investigation do we have?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I'm
interested in Alicia. I'm going to do a
deep dive into her life, see why she chose your grandfather, and what she's
planning to do. I'm sure she doesn't
have your family's best interests at heart, and I'm sure she'd like to have
what your mother has, a wealthy and respectable family who's in the top one
percent. Come to think of it, does that
make you a very, very eligible bachelor?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">Harry never
quite thought of it like that if anything happened to his mother. It's just not the sort of thing people wanted
to think about. Did that mean that Harry’s
father would be a very rich man if anything happened to her. Again, not something he had to think about,
not until now. Odd that he had never
really considered belonging to a very wealthy dynasty. He wondered if his brothers were aware of <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"To be
honest, I’ve never been interested in anything to do with my parents. We've never been spoiled, by parents or grandparents,
in fact we don't get to see my mother’s family very often. If she's rich, then she doesn't splash it
about, so who knows? Does that mean I'm
no longer 'eligible'?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"Wealth
is a curse, Harry. What do you think?"<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">"I'm just
as lovable penniless?"<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt;">She
smiled. "You might want to have
another chat with Gillian, see what she knows about them now we know a little bit
more. As for you, you are, among other
things, incorrigible maybe, and something else to ask your mother is her net
worth, though I suggest you trying to be subtle about it. I guess we have our assignments. I'll fill out the board with anything else
relevant, and you too, when you get those scraps of paper you call a filing
system together."<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2022</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-51741548457717526632021-04-06T08:30:00.002-07:002021-04-06T08:30:27.533-07:00Case 2 - Episode 27 - Felicity deals with Corinne's stalker<p>As Felicity expected, Sykes did not follow up with her, with any information on the boy that was following Corinne. She had, for a few moments thought he might, but knowing his views on her involvement in matters concerning such people as the Blines and Florenz, perhaps he considered he was protecting her.</p><p>And if she took a step back and see things in the same light, she might have believed that.</p><p>But Felicity was not one to take a backward step in anything, perhaps one of her least admirable qualities in that it might get her into serious trouble one day.</p><p>She glared at her phone and considered calling Sykes, but, in the end, didn’t. Her training had reached the point of disembarkation and she had to get off.</p><p>Ahead of her, Corinne and her friend Daisy were strolling as they had nowhere else to be, and for Felicity, it was frustrating because if anyone looked closely, they would see that she was following them.</p><p>Which she was.</p><p>And, at the same time, keeping an eye out for the boy who had been following her, the one who had been carrying her photograph in his back pocket.</p><p>It gave Felicity enough time to profile Daisy, her friend, and to note from the outset, it was an odd pairing. Daisy was the complete opposite to Corinne who was at best prim and proper where Daisy looked, to put it bluntly, like a prostitute. Perhaps that was her form of rebellion because Felicity had checked her out, and her parents were as wealthy as Corinne's, without the attached scandal.</p><p>Perhaps Corinne lived her vicarious side through Daisy.</p><p>It wasn’t until they were on the University grounds that Felicity finally saw the boy, and it looked like he hadn’t seen Corinne, possibly because he was with a classmate because there didn’t seem to be that air of friends about them.</p><p>The two girls headed for the cafeteria and that’s when the boy noticed her, spoke briefly to another boy, and then moved quickly towards the café too. Felicity hastened her pace too, managing to get to the door the same time Corinne and Daisy were walking away from the counter with cups of coffee.</p><p>They sat at a nearby table, and the boy decided against getting a coffee, sat further away, but close enough to keep an eye on them.</p><p>Felicity wandered over to his table and stood looking down at him. “Mind if I sit down here?”</p><p>“There are other places.”</p><p>“You’re a rude fellow, aren’t you?” She ignored him and sat down opposite him, putting herself between him and Corinne.</p><p>“Don’t you understand plain English?”</p><p>He went to stand when she said, “Sit down or I’ll scream, and then you’ll have to deal with the campus police.”</p><p>Half out of his seat, “You wouldn’t dare.”</p><p>“Try me. Think you can handle a charge of sexual assault?”</p><p>He sat down.</p><p>“What’s your problem. What did I do to you?”</p><p>“It’s what you’re doing to a friend of mine, that one you’ve been following.” She took the photograph he had dropped and put it on the table in front of him. “What did she do to you?”</p><p>“Who are you, her sister?”</p><p>“I work with her brother, who is a private detective. I’ve already alerted the police to your interest in Corinne, so if you don’t want me to call the detective in charge of the case, you want to tell me what your interest is, and be damn quick about it.”</p><p>“You’ve got it all wrong.”</p><p>“You’re following her. I’m willing to be she doesn’t know you, that’s stalking, and an offense.”</p><p>“She’s in one of my classes. I asked around and she comes from the upper west side, a girl far out of my league.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll tell you what. I don’t believe you; I think you’re working for someone who wants to cause her trouble. So, I’m going to be hereabouts watching you, some days you’ll see me, some says you won’t. But if I see you doing anything, or anything untoward happens to her, you’re the first person the police are coming after. As I said, I’ve told the appropriate people and they know who you are, so you want to hope nothing happens to her.”</p><p>She stood, and noticed Corinne and Daisy also leaving.</p><p>“You try and have a nice day.”</p><div><br /></div><p><br /></p><p></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-77590436620858309932021-03-09T06:59:00.003-08:002021-03-09T06:59:47.894-08:00Case 2 - Episode 26 - Dancing with the devil, sorry, Harry's mother<p>Harry opened the front door, and his mother was standing in front of it, key in hand ready to put in the lock.</p><p>A look of astonishment crossed her face when she saw him. “What are you doing here?” It was a question that was quite blunt, the result of her unwanted surprise.</p><p>“You asked me to investigate the disappearance of your husband, and this is one of the logical steps in that investigation.”</p><p>She glared at him, then brushed her way past, yelling out to Maria in much the same manner someone would call a dog.</p><p>Maria came out of the rear just in time to collect the fur coat just before it hit the ground.</p><p>“Tea?” Maria asked?</p><p>“For two, in the morning room.”</p><p>She swiveled around as Maria left the room and glared at Harry. “We need to talk.” Equally abruptly, she headed towards the morning room, and Harry followed like a hapless puppy.</p><p>The morning room was his favorite in the apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, and for many years, the breakfast room when sustenance was taken on before heading to school.</p><p>Those years seemed carefree, though he had never realized the importance of them at the time. Only when he had finished school and moved out had he realized what he was missing. Now he was lucky to get breakfast or see Central Park in summer or winter.</p><p>“Sit,“ his mother barked. They sat at either end of the long table.</p><p>She gave him several minutes to take in the view and consider his answers, even though he didn’t know the questions. At times it was difficult to know who scared him the most, his mother or his father.</p><p>“What progress have you made?”</p><p>A simple question with no double meanings. They would come later.</p><p>“Who is Emile Florenz?” A dangerous start to the briefing, particularly if he meant something to her.</p><p>“Why do you want to know about him? He’s just a golfing partner of your father's. I assume you have spoken to him.”</p><p>“Not yet. You have though.” He looked up, and she was looking straight at him, eyes blazing.</p><p>“Have I? How could you know who I talk to?”</p><p>“You might want to reconsider the notion that if you were thinking you’d put a fool in charge of the investigation because you don’t really want to know, or care, where he is, you’d better think again.”</p><p>A statement he never thought he’d have the courage to say, and was, in a sense, almost blurted out. Perhaps he knew that the only way he’d get answers was to come straight for her.</p><p>“I don’t think of you as incompetent if that’s what you think.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Why would I hire you then?”</p><p>Why indeed. It was something he’d thought about on the way over, and the only reason was that she didn’t want him to succeed. The idea of her and Florenz together, that surprised him, despite the fact he knew she was as good at having affairs as his father.</p><p>Perhaps it angered him. But it was a bit hypocritical because he could sanction those of his father and not of his mother. Neither was setting a good example for their children.</p><p>“Don’t start answering questions with questions. Florenz was your flame at University. I’m going to be digging deeper, are there any other surprises I might find?”</p><p>“It depends on how deep you dig.”</p><p>“Either of you put a contract on him?”</p><p>Maria arrived with a tray with the tea and shortbread biscuits. The tea service was 18th-century bone china, which I would have locked away in a safe rather than be drinking out of, and I would have to be careful not to drop my cup.</p><p>She poured the tea, passed me a cup, and waited until Maria left the room, pulling the double doors closed behind her.</p><p>“No. I am married to your father, that’s non-negotiable. I fuck Emile because it makes me feel good and it’s none of your business. There are others, I don’t expect you to understand, nor do I care. We have an arrangement. It works. I’m careful, he isn’t. How did you find out?”</p><p>“I’m a private investigator. If you have any secrets, I’ll discover them.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to find out that’s useful in finding him. There are two other golf partners, and no, I don’t fuck them, there’s some law society he goes on conferences with, they’re just booze and prostitutes, and he intermittently plays poker with some more salubrious types. Find his phone, or tap into it, it might give you some leads.”</p><p>All good information, he thought and would be on his list had he thought of it. He took out his notebook and made some notes.</p><p>“Now that’s done, who the hell was the girl in your office that said she was your girlfriend?”</p><div style="text-align: center;">----</div><p><br /></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-39009303253193452342021-03-03T21:17:00.000-08:002021-03-03T21:17:44.320-08:00Case 2 - Episode 25 - Harry investigates the study<p> The door was closed. It was always closed, the one room in the apartment where it was forbidden to go, which is why Harry had ignored common-sense, and his father's specific orders. He was a 'curiosity killed the cat' sort of person, always had been.</p><p>He tried the door. Locked. Of course, it explained why Maria was not overly worried about him going on. She knew that it was locked.</p><p>But not an obstacle for the intrepid private investigator. If his father ever asked him how he was so adroit at opening locked doors Harry would have told him, it was all the practice he got opening this door in front of him.</p><p>And before a minute had passed, he was inside, and the door closed and relocked behind him.</p><p>The Harry stood, just inside the door, soaking up the aroma of old leather, carpet cleaner, and air freshener, slightly on the must side because there were no windows or access to fresh air. And when there was no air conditioning, it was stiflingly hot.</p><p>The desk was a turn of the century, that is eighteenth century, oak creation that was a family heirloom, though given the little mountains of wood dust, it was probably being eaten by white ants and one day crumble before his father's eyes.</p><p>Harry had found the dust when hiding under it one time when his father came home early and nearly caught him. It would have been discovered if Maria was allowed to clean in there, but she wasn't, so nothing had been done about the problem.</p><p>The desktop was clear, the same as it was at work. If there was anything to be found it would be in the drawers, and from experience he knew they too would be locked.</p><p>Enough with the memories, Harry thought, time to get to work, before Maria realized, he was missing.</p><p>He sat in the chair behind the desk, and shuddered, a bad feeling coming over him. It was like his father's ghost was in the room. </p><p>There were four drawers on either side, three narrow, one, the bottom, much larger. He tried each of the drawers and discovered the bottom two were open, one on the left empty, and on the right, a bottle and three glasses. He picked the bottle up and found it to be a very old scotch whiskey, the sort his grandfather drank.</p><p>Another secret; Harry used to sneak into his grandfather’s study, and have a drink of the whiskey, not hidden from view, and read some of the old books his grandfather kept in glass-doored shelves. No doubt the black witch had sold them off the moment the old man died. That, and everything else worth anything.</p><p>His grandfather would be rolling in his grave if he knew just how mercenary all of his family had become.</p><p>He passed over the opportunity to have a drink and worked on the first draw, top left. It took two minutes, longer than he expected.</p><p>Inside? Nothing of consequence, a few papers relating to the apartment, and a sheaf of accounts held together with a paper clip. Harry shuffled through them and, near the bottom, he found one stamped 'overdue'. A closer look at some others above and below it showed they were also overdue but spared the garish red stamp of disapproval.</p><p>Apparently, the family was experiencing cash flow problems, something, Harry suspected, his mother knew nothing about. She had, he knew, made a point of letting him manage the family's finances so there'd never be arguments about money.</p><p>So, it raised a question, where was all the family fortune. Last he was told, the Walthenson’s were worth in excess of 250 million dollars, excluding the property portfolio which included the apartment, and a weekender in the Hamptons.</p><p>He put the papers back in the drawer and relocked it.</p><p>Next was the top drawer on the right, a little easier to open, but sticking when he pulled on it. The wood had warped, and it took some gentle coaxing to open it halfway, enough to discover the only item in it was a diary.</p><p>Harry shuffled through the pages to the date when his father disappeared.</p><p>'Lunch with EF and BA'</p><p>Going backward from that date, there were a number of similar entries only the initials changing. It might help to write down the initials and try to marry them back to real people. If possible.</p><p>He then spent five minutes going through cupboards, looking for some paper and a pen, neither of which were in the top drawers, where one would expect to find them.</p><p>None. Five minutes wasted. He opened the next drawer of the left. Of course, that's where the stationery would be. He quickly wrote down as many of the initials and the dates as he could then replace it. No notes on where he was meeting them, just who and when.</p><p>Perhaps his work diary might be more forthcoming.</p><p>The other drawers had nothing of consequence, and certainly, nothing to help find him, just more evidence that he was in some financial difficulty. Harry wondered if his mother knew, or the two brothers. Or was personal and business separate? </p><p>Another question to ask at the office.</p><p>Done, leaving the room as he'd found it, he took a last look around the room, took a moment to guess where a safe might be, and looking, proved he was wrong, then left.</p><p>Maria was nowhere in sight when he came out, so rather than see her, and answer any difficult questions, he headed to the front door to pet himself out.</p><p>Pity, then, it was exactly the same time his mother chose to return.</p><div><br /></div><p><br /></p><p></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><br /><p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-30507527189665424342021-02-22T18:04:00.002-08:002021-02-22T18:04:48.734-08:00Case 2 - Episode 24 - Harry goes home<p> Standing outside the front door of the apartment he used to call home, there were mixed emotions running through his mind. The rather strange childhood, well, compared to other children of his age at junior school, leaving home to go to college, and then the argument that made it impossible to stay.</p><p>His father's expectations were not the same as Harry's even though he'd done as he promised, going to law school, and working in his father's practice. But law just wasn't Harry's thing, well, that side of the law, which he discovered was more about defending the criminals, not prosecuting them.</p><p>It was a lucrative occupation, proof of what was just beyond that door held ajar for those who wanted to pass through it, to the multi-million-dollar apartments and the trappings that come with it, that life his family called home.</p><p>Would his mother be home? At that hour of the day, he suspected not, though he never really knew, nor had he ever known, what she did with her day. </p><p>As far back as he could remember, neither of his parents had ever spoken about their day over dinner, in fact, dinner was always a somber affair and none of the five children could wait to leave the oppressive atmosphere at the table.</p><p>Yes, Harry thought, it was surprising how quickly the bad memories came flooding back the moment he outside that front door.</p><p>Not having a key, forced to surrender it after the conflagration with his father, he was reduced to pushing the button for the chime that would summon the maid.</p><p>The door opened. Maria. She was not a live-in maid, but one that came early and left late, what Harry always believed to be a thankless job. Even so, it was one she had been doing since he was about five.</p><p>"Master Harry."</p><p>He was the only one of the four boys she referred to as master for some reason.</p><p>"Maria. How are you?"</p><p>"I am well. Your parents are not here."</p><p>"I'm not here to see them. May I come in?"</p><p>She hesitated for a few seconds, most likely wrestling with a command from either of his parents not to let him cross the threshold, the pariah of the family to be viewed with suspicion.</p><p>Then, with a shake of her head, she stepped to one side, saying, "Of course."</p><p>He was, after all, still a Walthenson.</p><p>He passed by her and waited until she closed the door. Just crossing the threshold, he felt like he had been transported to a different world, one where opulence was everywhere, the mainstay, the ten-million-dollar painting on the foyer wall, setting the gold plate standard.</p><p>Notwithstanding the fact, it had a gold-plated frame. Harry hated it, mainly because it was garish, but also because he didn’t understand what it represented. No one did. A needless trinket, his mother had said when she first saw it, but a good investment. </p><p>To her, everything had a monetary value. Everything.</p><p>"Why are you here, Master Harry? It is not something I will get into trouble for, is it?"</p><p>She had every reason to ask because it would not be the first time she had suffered because of his actions. A regret he could not make up for</p><p>"No. My mother has asked me to find Mr. Walthenson. Apparently, he's gone missing, well, in her eyes he's missing, but he could be just on another of his, er, you know what I mean."</p><p>By the expression on her face, she didn’t know what he meant. She had always been grateful for the job he had given her and would brook no bad words about him. "No one has told me anything. The Mistress never tells me anything. For my own protection, she says."</p><p>"And probably the best course of action for her. I suspect she has secrets of her own, which, I emphasize, I don't want to know about. Do you have any idea where my father has gone?"</p><p>"Me. No. I know better than to ask either of them anything. I just do as I'm told."</p><p>"Ok. Then I'll just go and have a look in the study, just in case he left a clue to his whereabouts, or what he was working on."</p><p>"So long as it does not cause trouble. And leave it the way you found it. Both are very particular about that room. No dusting, no cleaning, no entry." She shook her head, walking towards the kitchen at the rear. "I don't want to know."</p><p>Harry didn't blame her. His father's wrath was not something you wanted raining down on you, a fate Harry was well acquainted with.</p><p>And it was a room he tried extremely hard to keep out of, as indeed had his brothers and sister. A summons to the study was like standing in court waiting for the death sentence.</p><p>It took a moment to collect his courage, then walk towards the double door entrance.</p><p><br /></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><div><br /></div>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-82835005147466949772021-02-11T05:44:00.000-08:002021-02-11T05:44:39.071-08:00 Case 2 - Episode 23 - Felicity drops in on Harry<p> Harry ordered in. Felicity was coming and he knew she liked either pizza or Chinese. They had Chinese the last time, and she had made him feel bad when she displayed her dexterity with chopsticks, so this time it would be pizza.</p><p>He had made the acquaintance of the pizzeria owner just up the road very early on, mainly because he had a passion for authentic Italian pizzas, like those he had eaten on one of several holidays his mother had taken him and his brothers on.</p><p>The owner was Italian, and his pizzas were almost authentic.</p><p>He was musing on the idea of going back to Italy, and if she would go with him, he’d take Felicity. She had yet to experience the charms of Italy herself, and there was a relative who lived in the heart of Tuscany who had recently issued an invitation.</p><p>After this case.</p><p>The front door rattled as Felicity closed it and flipped the lock. There would be no more leaving the door open or unlocked in the wake of his previous experience.</p><p>Felicity had the pizza boxes in her hand. “The delivery boy was outside the door when I got there. These the famous Italian specials?”</p><p>“Salami, Cabanossi, pepperoni, mozzarella, chili, peppers, olives, and I forget the rest. You’ll love it.”</p><p>The aroma had followed her into the room. She dropped the boxes on his desk and pulled up a chair. A plastic carry bag she had put beside the desk on the floor had a six-pack of Peroni beer, and she took two out and handed him one/</p><p>“Italian beer, we’re going all out,” he said, taking the bottle opener out of the top drawer and passing to her.”</p><p>“If we do this, we have to set the mood.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t we need a full moon? You know, the moon in the sky is like a big pizza pie, etcetera, etcetera.”</p><p>“Is this your version of a romantic night in?”</p><p>“It could be.” Harry hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but it was a possibility.</p><p>In fact, he hadn’t been thinking of her in a romantic sense because he was not quite sure what her feelings were on the subject. It was not something they’d discussed lately.</p><p>She lifted the lid on both boxes and took in the aroma. Having not eaten for hours, her stomach was rumbling.</p><p>They ate.</p><p>It was not a dish that could foster dialog while eating, and both wanted to get a few slices down before it got cold. Not that there was anything wrong with cold pizza, it was just he preferred it hot.</p><p>Then, when one bottle of beer was gone, and another appeared on the table, it was time to talk.</p><p>“I got your cryptic message. Evidently, my mother is a flirt?”</p><p>“She’s more than that with Florenz. In my research, I found a picture of them together, back in University days, and they were a hot item. I might be misreading the signs, but they still are. Perhaps he bumped your father off.”</p><p>“I don’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t think he would. He’s never been a match for my mother, he just does as he’s told, so she’d just screw Florenz and forget to tell him.”</p><p>“If he found out?”</p><p>“I doubt they’d break up the gold foursome, though I could imagine some crackling conversations on the golf course.”</p><p>“You don’t sound surprised your mother is having an affair.”</p><p>“I doubt it’s one. But no. She’s rich, smart, and more sophisticated than he is. I always believed she married him because he got her pregnant and was probably honorable once. I don’t think we should discuss this in from of Corinne.”</p><p>“No. I’m going to visit her again in the next day or so, and make sure she’s safe.” She didn’t mention the boy who was tailing her, or that she had discussed it with Sykes. “I just visited a lowlife Willy Blines brother of equally lowlife Theo, the guy I shot. Seems they’re still mixed up with that plot at the docks. At the moment the plot is the least of our problems. How are you going with the missing father?”</p><p>“Slowly. I’m going home to do some snooping, a task that can only be performed when my mother is not there. But if she turns up later, I will ask her about Florenz.”</p><p>“Be careful with that.”</p><p>“I will. I do know how to conduct interrogations.”</p><p>“She’s your mother, Harry. Interrogation indeed.”</p><p>Yes, he thought, the thought of interrogating his mother was a little daunting, that was if he got her co-operation.</p><p>A change of subject, after another slice. It was, she thought, excellent pizza, but, then, she had been starving. “What do you know about Shawville and Argeter?”</p><p>“They are familiar names. Dad’s golf partners, the other two of the four, with Florenz. WE need to talk to them too, I guess.”</p><p>“I’ll find out who they are and where they are. Now, no more work talk. Let’s finish the pizza, have some more beer, and talk about where you’re going to take me for our anniversary?”</p><p>Anniversary? What anniversary? Like most men he hadn’t kept track of women might consider important dates, like when they first me, when they started working together, anything really. It was the casual nature of their relationship. Best to act as if he knew what she was talking about. “Of course.”</p><div><br /></div><div>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</div>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-64861532299918427442021-02-02T05:48:00.000-08:002021-02-02T05:48:51.013-08:00 Case 2 - Episode 22 - Harry and Ellen in the office<p>It was a surprise for Harry to see Ellen back in the office.</p><p>When he’d disappeared, she had correctly made the call to close the office, and maintain her distance until he’d reappeared, if, of course, he’d reappeared. Now that Harry knew Giselle had a hand in her employment, she would have kept Ellen informed of developments, and, finally, of his recovery and return to work.</p><p>The last advice he had was that she had joined her grandmother on a world cruise, or as it happened, her grandmother had bought a permanent cabin on some luxury liner and spent most of her life at sea, and Ellen had become her traveling companion.</p><p>To be honest, he’d not expected to see her again. The idea of traveling the world held more appeal than working for a dreary Private Detective who nearly got himself killed.</p><p>But she was back, sitting in her seat, as though she had never been away.</p><p>The door was unlocked and open, and Harry had been expecting to see Felicity.</p><p>“So, not all beer and skittles on the Liner?”</p><p>“Since I don’t drink beer, or play skittles, hardly an apt analogy. How are you?”</p><p>“Better.”</p><p>“I was going to visit you in the hospital, but the ship got stuck in a weather front.”</p><p>“I could think of worse places to be.”</p><p>Harry hung up his coat and sat in the chair opposite her desk. As a chair for clients, it was not comfortable. Harry preferred they stay, not leave as soon as they could get away.</p><p>“Aunt Giselle told me you twigged to the great secret.”</p><p>“That she got you the job?”</p><p>“Suggested, Harry, suggested. She is of the Grandmothers who have awkward grandchildren society, and I am an awkward child.”</p><p>“So am I, I’m guessing.”</p><p>She smiled. “Less than me. I do not play well with others in the sandpit. This was ideal. Still is.”</p><p>“And being the faithful companion?”</p><p>“Not all it’s cracked up to be. Old women can be so demanding. Ellen, will you do this, Ellen, will you do that, Ellen, that man is highly unsuitable.”</p><p>“Was he?”</p><p>“The second officer with good prospects of becoming a captain, I thought so. Pity, he already had a wife.”</p><p>“In every port?”</p><p>“Not quite. But I’m done with boats, ships, and seafarers. And grandmothers. Did Sykes find who did for you?”</p><p>“No. Still an ongoing mystery. Felicity has a lead, but we have a case and that takes priority.”</p><p>“Felicity? Oh, the girl whom you met at the conference. Aunt Giselle said she was working here now her father has, well, the equivalent of sending her to Coventry. Aunt Giselle thinks she has gumption whatever that means.”</p><p>“The ability to get into trouble mostly. You’ll like her.”</p><p>“And the current case, a missing father?”</p><p>“So mother thinks. We have a note, but I don’t think that truly describes the situation he’s in. I think it has something to do with what happened to be, and over the same plot of land.”</p><p>“Down at the old wharves?”</p><p>“Yes. We have to be careful how we investigate that lead in the future.”</p><p>“I’ve opened a new file for both your father and the block. I see you have a new filing system.”</p><p>“The place was trashed. Corinne came looking for me and found it a mess. Another surprise, she thinks she’s working for me in her spare time. Just another ball you’ll have to juggle, trying to keep her out of trouble.”</p><p>“Is it too soon to ask for a raise?”</p><p>“Good try. Ask me again in a few weeks.”</p><p><br /></p><p>He was glad Ellen was back. She was old enough to know how to handle Corinne and firm enough to handle Felicity. Harry was not sure why he thought that would be necessary, only that he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle her.</p><p>As either a boss or a boyfriend.</p><p>But she was like a dog with a bone, and not let up until she got to the truth. She would just have to be careful.</p><p>And something else that made him feel slightly better. That he had at least one family member treating him seriously, Aunty Giselle. So much better calling her that than Granny Giselle.</p><p>Harry just got to sit down behind his desk when his cell phone buzzed telling him there was a new message.</p><p>From Felicity. “Your mother just met up with Florenz. Something going on between them, as once old lovers perhaps. Will discuss this when I see you. F.”</p><p>And here he was thinking his mother was just a boring housewife.</p><div><br /></div><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-77771025075721829772021-01-24T07:10:00.000-08:002021-01-24T07:10:03.075-08:00 Case 2 - Episode 21 - Willy Blines on the back foot<p>There was a minute’s silence, then Felicity decided to weigh in with a question of her own, "Do you know either Harry or Xavier Walthenson?"</p><p>She kept a close eye on him as she asked the question, knowing that in those first few seconds as it registered, people often gave away a completely different answer than their verbal reply. </p><p>Willy was no different. His go-to for evasion or thought time before he spoke, was to refresh the ice in his drink that didn't need refreshing. But he was not quick enough in turning to stop that look of recognition in his eyes.</p><p>She waited while he topped up the ice. The answer when he faced them again was predictable.</p><p>"No. Should I?"</p><p>"Well, let's take a step in another direction, and think carefully before you answer. Do you know Emil Florenz?"</p><p>Was that panic? She could almost hear the internal argument he was having with himself, weighing the odds of whether they'd seen Florenz arrive and go earlier. It was a losing argument.</p><p>The was only one answer </p><p>"Yes. Why?"</p><p>Sykes took over. "Although there's no police investigation yet," a sidelong glance at Felicity, "we have information that might indicate that Florenz is mixed up in some criminal financial activity. Do you have any business dealings with him.”?</p><p>"What makes you think I know him, other than knowing of him?"</p><p>A question Sykes believed was to draw out whether they had seen him come and/or go from his office.</p><p>"Don't dance with me, Willy. If I find you are withholding information that might eventually be part of an ongoing investigation, you can be charged as an accessory, before or after the fact won't bother me all that much."</p><p>Another momentary thought, one that Felicity might have said indicated the dilemma; damned if you do, and damned if you don't. Who did Willy fear the most, Florenz or Sykes?</p><p>"I manage a property or two of his, nothing illegal about those transactions "</p><p>"One wouldn't have anything to do with that parcel of land at the docks where your brother is playing guard dog?"</p><p>"No, definitely not."</p><p>"Then you know who's owns it then?"</p><p>Deftly maneuvered into a compromising position, virtually admitting he knew who the owner was.</p><p>"No, not really. Just the person who made the request for security. That was a man called Samuel Argeter from Bilboa Investments. Perhaps he is the owner or knows who is."</p><p>Argeter, Felicity thought; she knew that name, she’d heard it used earlier that day, yes, in the discussion between Florenz and Harry's mother.</p><p>She knew who he was but couldn't for the moment remember what had been said about him. </p><p>It was beginning to appear, to her, there was a group, perhaps old school chums, who worked together. Perhaps Harry could pursue it with his mother.</p><p>Felicity looked at Sykes. He seemed satisfied with the meeting, pulled out a card from his inner suit pocket, and put it on the bench.</p><p>"Two things to remember. If you’re a mind to settling scores over Theo, make sure it's the real killer not the result of some crazy guesswork. You know what I'll do if you go down the wrong path. And just in case your memory comes back, or the owner's name pops into your head, my number is on the card. Have a nice day, Willy."</p><p>And if he chooses to ignore Sykes, Felicity will know tomorrow when she checked on Corinne. Or now that he knew she was one of the shooters, she'd have to have eyes in the back of her head.</p><div><br /></div><p></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><br /><p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-3075907516965332132021-01-15T15:33:00.000-08:002021-01-15T15:33:59.582-08:00 Case 2 - Episode 20 - Sykes and Felicity chat to Willy Blines <p>Both Sykes and Felicity waited by the elevator door watching the progress of the lift coming down to street level until they heard the ding forewarning the arrival of the elevator car.</p><p>The doors opened and Willy was standing back leaving room for them to join him </p><p>"Detective Sykes is it now?" Willy said as the doors closed.</p><p>There was a slight lurch before the elevator started its upward journey. Felicity thought it was straining considering the combined weight of her two traveling companions. Sykes could afford to lose 20 or 30 pounds before he had a heart attack, and the other man, Willy, well he was past the point of no return.</p><p>The car stopped at the fourth floor and they all got out. Willy headed for the bar at the other end of the room, while the other two follow more slowly, looking in the rooms they passed, till they came out into a large dining/living space.</p><p>She had expected an office but instead, it was a newly renovated apartment.</p><p>Sykes stopped not far from Willy, who had turned to look in his direction. "Drink?"</p><p>Sykes surveyed the array of bottles on the countertop, just about every type of alcohol there was, he thought, and, for a moment considered asking for a gin and tonic.</p><p>He was working, so no. He shook his head to indicate he didn't.</p><p>Willy swiveled to look in Felicity’s direction, on the opposite side of the room, beside a large, rather gloomy-looking painting of the Brooklyn Bridge almost lost in the fog.</p><p>It was an odd depiction of such a famous landmark.</p><p>"Miss?"</p><p>"No thanks."</p><p>Willy shrugged. "Suit yourselves." He turned back to the counter, and poured himself a generous serve of Scotch whiskey, then went to the refrigerator and loaded over from the door ice maker.</p><p>Satisfied his drink was right, he turned to face them. "Now what can I do for you, Detective?"</p><p>"Did Ned call you? I was there earlier it would be a shock if he didn't."</p><p>"No point saying, he didn't. But he's not doing anything wrong, Detective.'</p><p>"Who is employing him as a security guard and why?"</p><p>Willy took a sip of his drink and winced, perhaps the raw liquid not as smooth as he thought it would be. He turned back to the ice maker and this time added some cold water before turning his attention back to Sykes.</p><p>"I am. You know as well as I and a lot of others how unsafe it is down there. He's more or less doing the public service."</p><p>"Unsafe is right, Willy. Theo is a testament to that. Who would want to kill him?"</p><p>Willy's eyes strayed from Sykes to Felicity, then back to Sykes. "I heard it was a girl who done for him."</p><p>He nodded in Felicity's direction. "Wouldn't be her would it?"</p><p>"She didn't kill him, no, but if your brother had not startled her, it might have saved himself the indignity of getting a harmless flesh wound. Self-defence, against someone like Theo, is not a crime Willy. No, your brother was killed by a professional hitman, three to the heart one to the head. So the question remains, who did Theo insult so bad they wanted to make a point."</p><p>Sykes pulled an envelope out of his inside coat pocket, took it to the bench, and pushed it across towards Willy. </p><p>"Just in case you think that I'm lying, that's the medical examiner’s report on Theo's death. It means that if you are going after this young lady," Sykes nodded in her direction, "or any other woman you might think is connected, then I suggest you don't."</p><p>Willy glanced at the envelope, then Felicity, then back Sykes. "Why should I believe you?"</p><p>"Simply this. If you want to make trouble, that's fine, if you do then I'll come after you, and the first item on my agenda will be that so-called vacant block of dockland. I'll have it searched from top to bottom, on the ground and under it, and I'll make sure the media makes it very clear you're the reason we're doing it. I imagine that won't make your employer happy."</p><p>Willy's expression told Sykes all he needed to know.</p><div><br /></div><p></p><p style="margin: 0cm;">© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p><br /><p></p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-84546403445786205562021-01-12T06:11:00.000-08:002021-01-12T06:11:18.465-08:00Case 2 - Episode 19 – The building on Broadway<p>Losing Florenz wasn’t quite what happened.</p><p>When the moment of panic wore off, thinking that she had lost him, a short walk from the corner of Canal Street up Broadway led her to a building that had an inset elevator entrance., and since she had not seen him enter the building by the proper doorway, it was the only place he could have gone, quite literally walking through a wall if viewed side-on.</p><p>A quick check of the bank and stores on that side of the street showed he was not in any of them.</p><p>Nor, she suspected, had he come this far just to get on the subway at Canal Street. There was ample opportunity to do that during his walking odyssey to this particular spot.</p><p>Of course, she could be wrong, but she was prepared to wait, perhaps for a half hour or so, and see if he materialized.</p><p>She crossed the street, dodging cars and a bus, and leaned against the column outside the building opposite, pretending to consult her phone, and have a fictitious phone call, keeping a continuous eye on that elevator entrance.</p><p>She’d been there about ten minutes when a voice beside her said, “I should arrest you for loitering.”</p><p>She turned to see Detective Sykes, a familiar voice, and one belonging to the last person she wanted to see or find her there.</p><p>“Are you on a job?” We waited for her to answer, then guessed it was not one he wanted her to know about.</p><p>“Sort of.”</p><p>“That’s not much of an answer, is it. I’m guessing you’re working for Harry, and not taking my advice to keep out of danger’s way.”</p><p>“This is me avoiding trouble. Harry asked me to do some surveillance on his mother.”</p><p>“Why would he want his mother followed?”</p><p>“You’ve met the Walthenson’s, and I’m sure you think them as odd as I do. But just the same I wasn’t following her, but Alicia Wentworth.”</p><p>“One of the partners at Walthenson’s practice.”</p><p>“Married to Harry’s father’s father. It’s a convoluted arrangement, but Harry suspects she has something to do with his disappearance. Anyway, she brought me into the city where she met Emile Florenz, one of his dad’s golfing friends.”</p><p>“Florenz? You want to keep well away from him.”</p><p>“Perhaps someone should tell Harry’s mother that, because that was who he met next, and they had an intimate discussion downtown.”</p><p>“So, you’re telling me Florenz and the Walthenson’s are friends.”</p><p>“One I suspect more than the other. I did a little digging and the mother and he used to be an item at University.”</p><p>“And you’re here now because?”</p><p>“I think Florenz is in the building opposite, and I’m waiting to see where he goes next.”</p><p>She could sense a reprimand in the wind, Sykes’ manner having changed markedly the moment he heard the name Florenz. Sykes definitely knew more about Florenz than she did, but knew he wasn’t going to share it. Just the same, she had to ask, “Is he dangerous?”</p><p>“He might very week have had something to do with Harry’s kidnapping. A little advice, it might be time for you to walk away from this right now before he finds out about you.”</p><p>Too late. If Blines had spoken to anyone before he died, and it was Florenz, a fact becoming more likely by the minute, then she was already in his sights.</p><p>“By the way,” she added, thinking it was better to tell him than not, “when I shot Blines, just after he gave me a name. Florenz. That made me think that he had something to do with that dockland property.”</p><p>She saw Sykes shaking his head. Not a good sign.</p><p>“Your curiosity is going to get you the same treatment Harry got if you’re not careful. This is not the place to be.”</p><p>“Why? And why are you here? It can’t be a coincidence.”</p><p>“It could. But another piece of information, not for following up, but just to add to your notebook when you write your memoirs if you live that long, Blines brother lives over the road, and I’m going to drop in and have a chat. Since Florenz is there too…”</p><p>“Maybe not a good idea.”</p><p>“You can use it as leverage on Blines. He doesn’t know we know he knows Florenz.” She almost confused herself with that statement, but the notion was valid. Knowing something the interrogated didn’t know the interrogator knew gave them a distinct advantage.</p><p>Interrogation 101.</p><p>Sykes shook his head again, but for different reasons.</p><p>“Looks like we won’t have to wait long to see Ned.”</p><p>He followed her look across the street where Ned had just finished his meeting with Florenz and just as a car pulled up in front of them, blocking their view, Florenz hastily crossed to it, and got in.</p><p>When it was clear again, Ned had gone.</p><p>That’s when Sykes pulled out his phone and called Ned. “Five minutes, outside the elevator.”</p><p>She didn’t hear what New said, but it didn’t sound friendly.</p><p>“Oh, there’s one other matter, there’s some chap following Corinne to school and back. I took a photo of him.”</p><p>“Send it and I’ll see if he’s anyone of interest. You sure it’s not an old boyfriend?”</p><p>“No. He’s definitely following her. He had a photo that fell out of his back pocket.”</p><p>“OK. Now you’d better leave.”</p><p>“I don’t think so. He needs to be told to stop targeting Harry’s sister. I’m sure he thinks she’s the one who killed her brother, and he needs to know the truth.”</p><p>“You do realise these people don’t take much notice of the truth.”</p><p>“Even so, I should be there. You can tell him I did it, and then tell him that seeking retribution will just see him buried in the same grave as his brother.”</p><p>Sykes glared at her incredulously. “Do you have any idea what these people are like?”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll sort it out. Let’s not keep him waiting.”</p><p><br /></p><p>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</p>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2938644724387336964.post-79753065352926797072021-01-07T05:45:00.002-08:002021-01-07T05:45:01.425-08:00Case 2 - Episode 18 - Felicity follows Florenz to a building on Broadway (Revised)<p> When Florenz didn’t stop at City Hall, what Felicity thought was the most likely destination, she thought that perhaps Florenz had discovered she was following him, and this would end up a wild goose chase.</p><p>But, when he continued walking slowly up Broadway towards Times Square, she began to think perhaps he was just out for a morning walk to his next appointment. In the short distance past the entrance to the park, he had stopped to look at his watch, then his cell phone, as if he was checking one against the other.</p><p>Then, as he started walking again, he bumped into a man who was walking quickly, making the collision more than it might have been. Florenz dropped his phone, the other man, who had staggered a few steps before regaining control, turned and told Florenz to watch where he was going, then continued on his way at the same breakneck speed.</p><p>Florenz turned to watch him leave, then started scanning the path behind him, and then his eyes coming back up the other side of the road where Felicity, thinking quickly on her feet, moved into a doorway that made her look as if she was going into the building.</p><p>That action lost her a valuable minute, and when she came back out onto the street, immediately looking where he was last standing, he’d gone. Then, she looked further up the street and saw him, just, crossing the next intersection at Reade Street.</p><p>It looked to her like he had almost run to get that far in such a short time. </p><p>Or he considered he was late for that appointment, and just walked fast.</p><p>She took the calculated risk of almost running herself to catch up, stopping still some distance from him, having to wait for traffic lights at both Duane and Thomas Streets, and by the time she crossed Thomas Street, Florenz had stopped at the Worth Street intersection and was checking his phone.</p><p>At least it was a good morning for a walk. Rain had been predicted, the clouds were scudding by overhead, getting darker by the minute, and she was hot from the continuous exercise of walking fast, then slow.</p><p>By the time Florenz checked his phone, she had caught up and was now seriously considering a sandwich, or coffee. Had she more time she might have, but she had to cross and then dodged some scaffolding almost walking into it her attention so intent on where Florenz was.</p><p>It was a moment where losing concentration, by the time she looked up, he was gone again.</p><p>Damn, this fellow is slippery. Or, he knew he was being followed.</p><p>But a few seconds later she realized he had crossed the road, dodging several cars and taxis, a lot more dangerous than if he crossed at the lights. Or had he just realized he was on the wrong side of the road?</p><p>At the intersection, Franklin Street, the scaffolding ended, and the next building would provide no cover. She was maintaining about 20 yards distance between them, and she stopped when he did at the lights.</p><p>When they turned green, he didn’t immediately cross, but turned around and looked directly back towards her. She almost missed his movement and, in her haste, to backtrack to the start of the scaffolding and a store she had seen there, she ran into a woman who was coming out of the store.</p><p>It caused the woman to drop a package.</p><p>All Florenz would have seen if he was looking in her direction was her back and a red-faced woman accepting a package.</p><p>He would not have heard her say abruptly to Felicity, “You should watch where you’re going, young lady.”</p><p>And heard her apology, in her meekest tone, “So sorry.”</p><p>The woman continued on her way, and Felicity followed behind her slowly, scanning ahead to see if she could see Florenz. </p><p>For the moment he was missing.</p><p>Felicity caught up with him at Canal Street, once again the traffic lights her friend in need, the lights just changing and there he was, at the head of several others crossing the street.</p><p>She kept back until the lights just changed, then walked quickly across, and then stopped. </p><p>She just managed to get a fleeting look of a man, not necessarily Florenz, disappearing into what looked like the side of a wall.</p><div><br /></div><div>© Charles Heath 2020-2021</div>Charles Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343327127428475097noreply@blogger.com0