by Sandra Ryan
“Jewel, the slip up came from you. I knew about the PI from you. You let it slip during a conversation with one of your friends, which was how I found out.”
“Oh,” she replied. He wondered if she was going to pursue this, berate him for eavesdropping on a conversation she had, and then having the guts to use the fruits of that conversation as ammunition against her. However, it did appear like she had moved on from that phase in her life. She said,
“I guess I do owe her an explanation then. I fired her without listening to anything she had to say.”
“Her name’s Holly Hackett,” she said after a long pause.”I would send you her phone number and her office address.”
“Thank you so much, Jewel. I do appreciate this.”
“You are welcome, Sammy,” she was back to calling him Sammy. “I do hope this clears up quickly. No one deserves this sort of thing in their lives, even assholes like you,” she finished. He was still laughing when he heard the click on the other end indicating that she had cut the call.
CHAPTER THREE
SEEKING HOPE
Holly Hackett’s office was tucked away towards the outskirts of the city. It was situated in a nondescript rundown building that once housed office building. During the recession, the business that had been there were hit hard and so closed down. Over the years, newer facilities sprung up all over the town and few even attempted to purchase or lease the building.
Holly liked the building because it was not so far from her apartment; it was just a walking distance from her building a little to the end of the street. Also, she liked the air around the building, it had an air of mystery and she could not help thinking that that was how a private investigator’s office was supposed to look. The area it was located ensured that only a few individuals knew of her existence, thus it was only those who were really serious about the business that contacted her. She liked to tell herself that what she did mattered to her more than just the pay she refused, and that in itself was through because once she took a case she always made sure she did everything in her power to see that the case is resolved.
******
“Hello, Barry, how are you?” Holly said. Earphones were plugged into her ears and she was leaning back on her seat. It was 9pm, the time of day she usually reserved for all her personal calls.
“I am fine,” the gruff voice said. “The doctor asked you to call me did she not?”
“Not exactly?” Holly said. “She just mentioned you’ve not been taking your meds or exercising, Barry.”
“I told her I am doing okay, why can’t she leave me alone?”
“She can’t because she is your doctor and if she says you are not doing so well, you should at least listen to her. She is your best chance at beating this cancer.”
“You worry too much about me, kiddo, I have beaten a lot of things in my life, I am sure I am going to beat this cancer too.”
“You know I am afraid, Barry, would you at least do this for me?” she demanded.
“I will,” he promised.
“I’ll let you rest then, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait, are you not going to talk to me about work and how things are going?” Barry protested.
“I’m sorry Barry. I’m not going to talk shop with you till your cancer is on remission. Focus on getting better.” She did not wait for him to protest further before she dropped the call.
Holly placed the phone on the table, then grabbed a pizza slice from the box on the table. The box was intact save for the piece she just picked up, and she could not even get herself to swallow the slice even. She packed the box up and put it in her bag. She would probably put it in the microwave and eat it later at night or she could just dump it in her refrigerator for the many nights she left work late and had nothing else to eat.
She was having a headache. It was usually what happened when she was concerned about someone. This time, her concern was for Barry. It was strange how she had come to care for the man so deeply. The first time she had set her eyes on him was on a hot July afternoon. She had been sitting outside his office door, together with a number of people. It had been her third day in a row sitting at the exact same spot. Each time she came, his secretary turned her away, claiming that Barry was too busy to see her. That day, however, she had made up her mind that whatever it took, she was going to get close to him. So, when his door opened and he stepped out, followed by a couple of other men, she had briskly walked up to him, stretched out her hand and introduced herself. He had looked mildly amused, but he took hers and gave it a strong squeeze.
“You look familiar. City magazine ran an editorial about you a few months ago, right? You solved a case, yes?”
She nodded.
“I am sorry, but I’ve been sitting outside here for three days and I really need to see you.”
“Is that right?” he said, the twinkle never leaving his eyes. “What is it that you seek?”
“Mentorship,” she answered.
‘You want to become a private investigator?” the surprise was clearly written all over his face.
“Yes,” she replied solemnly.
“Well, why don’t we discuss this over a cup of coffee?” he had said, gently tugging her by the arm. It was her turn to be flabbergasted.
“But sir, we have somewhere we need to be,” one of the men with him stammered. Barry paid him no mind. He took Holly’s arm and together they walked out.
It was while they drank coffee that he made his true intentions known to her. no sooner were they settled with their steaming cups of coffee that he began,
“Do you know that when I started out I was the only black private investigator in all of the city?”
“I did not know that,” Holly answered.
“That’s right. It was so hard, folks looked down on me, and I had to work twice as hard as everybody else to prove my mettle.” He chewed loudly, like someone who was in a hurry and couldn’t wait to get everything settled with.
She was silent. She did not know how to respond appropriately.
“What I am saying to you in essence is this: I understand the obstacles you have faced. I understand what it means when people laughed at you and looked down on your skills.”
“How many other places did you go to before coming here?”
“Three,” she answered with a sigh.
He stopped chewing and wiped his mouth with a towel.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. But to be honest, this field is densely populated by the male folk. But there is also a reason women steer clear of the job; this job is grueling, sapping. You would need an abundant supply of energy to keep up.”
“I assure you I can be all that, sir. I just need an opportunity to learn.”
He smiled.
“You say that now. But when the going gets tough, sometimes, even the tough turn back.”
“I’m sure there is a reason that quote isn’t cited like that,” she replied with a smile too.
“By the way, congratulations on solving that case of your parents. I am terribly sorry something like that happened to them. It was a burglary gone wrong, yes?”
“Yes. They were returning from the movies that night when they got ambushed. Apparently, the burglars had trailed them from the cinema, lured by the gold necklace my mother had had on.”
Holly realized that as she narrated the incidence there was no pain. It was as though since she solved the case, whatever wound the deaths created healed.
“What I really want to know is how you did it. I mean, the police tried for several moths and came up with nothing.” His face had assumed a thoughtful sheen.
“Oh well, the police were not as motivated as I was,” she smiled.
“That is correct. I mean, isn’t it why we do this? So we could offer hope to people who the system fails. Beyond the money, and yes our fees can sometimes be exorbitant.” He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Holly laughed. “But beyond the fees, every successful priva
te investigator is always driven by a passion to help.”
“I guess,” Holly replied.
“So, are you going to tell me how you did it or what?”
Holly leaned in towards him, “Why don’t I make you a deal. If you teach me, I would tell you how I was able to solve the case. I will walk you through it, step by step.”
Barry gave a loud laugh.
“A lady who knows how to bargain. I’m impressed.”
He studied her for a while.
“I am dying,” he said finally.
“What?” she asked.
“The doctors say I have cancer. In fact, the group of men you saw me with earlier are my oncologists. Since morning they’ve been inundating me with strategies on how they intend to combat the disease.”
“That was why you’ve been away from public eye for so long?” it was more of a statement than a question. He nodded.
“When I saw you earlier, you were like a breath of fresh air. I saw an escape from all the doctors with their prognosis and grim looks. That was why I asked you out here.”
He clasped his hands together on the table and looked steadily at her.
“But being here, talking with you, it has shown me that I really need to be doing more. It is my responsibility to groom the next set of individuals who would continue this professions. Especially groups of people who are not motivated by greed but by a genuine concern for the well being of others. And you, Holly Hackett is a suitable candidate for this.”
“Yes!” she screamed, pumping a fist in the air.
He raised his hand to silence her.
“But you have to earn it. As I have told you, I have just a limited number of years on God’s green earth, and I am not about to spend it teaching someone who would not appreciate the craft.”
“I promise you I would not disappoint you,” she grinned up at him.
She had been with him for five years, and under him she had learned everything about the job. Eventually, she had left to begin her own practice. But the bond between them had remained strong. He had become like a father to her. From the time of the diagnosis, he had deteriorated so much that he had had to check into an oncology center to be properly monitored.
The tolling of the clock brought her out of her reverie. It was midnight. She began packing up to leave the office when the phone rang. Usually, it was one of her two assistants who picked calls in her absence but they had all gone home. She let the phone ring out and then waited to intercept the message that would come in.
“Good evening. My name is Samuel Clark. I would like the help of Holly Hackett for a specific task. If it would not be too much trouble, could she call me back on this number?” the caller rattled off some digits and hung up.
Holy stood for a while, wondering whether to call the man immediately or to wait till the next morning for one of her assistants to place the call. She knew that if she left the building, the call would continuously nag her. Besides, she had detected a note of desperation in the man’s voice. She dropped her bag onto the table, sat back down and dialed the number the man had called out.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Holly Hackett from Hackett Inc.. How may I help you?”
“Oh, I did not know anyone was still in the office. I thought you guys had all left. I am so sorry for calling this late.”
“That is alright Mr. Clark. You said you needed our services?”
“Yes. I am in a bit of a situation and I would like to hire your firm to help me sort it out.”
“Would you care explaining the sort of situation you mean?” It was a standard question she asked all her potential clients to ensure that no one who required their help was involved in anything illicit or was trying to use their help to escape the law.
“I think I would feel more comfortable if I could discuss this with you on a personal basis.”
Holly considered that. It was a reasonable request.
“Okay. I would be in the office anytime from 10a.m. tomorrow. Would that work for you?”
“That would be great, thank you. I would be there to see you.”
“Do you know where our office is located?”She asked, then proceeded to give him directions before he answered.
“Thank you very much,” he replied when she was done.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Clark. Do have a lovely night,” she finished.
******
The next morning Holly walked down the streets of her apartment to work. She had woken in high spirits. It was probably because of the prospects of a new job. She always felt a rush of exhilaration anytime she took on a new job. She pounded down the walkway, relishing the gentle breeze that caressed her skin and blew her hair into her face. It was one of the reasons she always walked to work; the almost orgasmic feeling she had every morning as the sun hit her skin and sent tingles up her spine.
A few meters from her office block, she stopped at a coffee truck to get a cup of coffee. It was one of her morning rituals; a bagel and a cup of coffee for good measure. She smiled up at the wrinkled face of the old man selling the coffee. They had been great friends since she helped him locate his niece in a town in worn torn Liberia.
“Hello Ms. Hackett, how are you doing today?” he always insisted on using a formal tone with her. He had been a teacher before he migrated from his home country of Liberia to America.
“Hello Gilbert. I am fine. How are you?”
“Up and shining,” he replied, bustling about to get her order. He had since learned not to ask her what she wanted as her requests never changed each morning.
“Here you go.” He handed over the bag containing the bagel and then the plastic cup of steaming coffee.
“You are a darling,” she said, giving him a wink. She took a sip of the drink and closed her eyes in mock ecstasy. “You know, Gilbert, I could totally marry you just for this gorgeous coffee you make every morning. You are such a lifesaver!”
He grinned. They went this way each morning, yet he never tired of hearing her shower him with adulation.
“Ah, it is already too old for me.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “But I have a cousin, a very fine man, makes great coffee like me. He owns a car shop and is looking for just a beautiful lady like you to spend the rest of his life with.”
“You don’t say!” she was barely holding in her laughter.
“I kid you not! I have told him about you and he is clearly enamored by the idea of you two being together. You know, I could arrange a date between you two.” His face held such earnestness.
“Oh dear Gilbert, nothing would please me more.”
“Greta. Just great!” he said, clapping his hands together. “Just you wait here while I go get a note to take down your number.”
“I’ll be here waiting,” she replied and he turned to go into the back of his truck. By the time he emerged, Holly had disappeared. He held his sides as laughter came to his lips, as he realized that she had just played him.
*******
Samuel was in the office when Holly stepped in. He had had to sneak out of his apartment through the alley in order to lose the reporters that were camped right outside of his door. He had worn a hoodie and had avoided asking anyone questions. But this had meant that it took him a longer time to locate the office. He had even lost his way twice before finally locating the run-down building that served as the office space of Hackett Incorporated.
When he came in he had been greeted by a woman who introduced herself as Holly’s assistant. She had been expecting him. She informed him that Holly had informed her of his visit. She had found him a seat and made a cup of coffee for him. He had wanted to refuse but she had not seemed like she was a person who took No for an answer. She just fetched a cup of coffee, handed it to him before even remembering to ask him if he took his coffee with milk or sugar.
He had seen the questions in her eyes when she recognized him. Her mouth had formed a slight ‘o’ which she had immediately tried to
cover with the veneer of professionalism. She, however, escaped to hide behind her computer, peering at him from time to time. He could imagine her on Facebook at that very instant, informing her friends of how she had made the acquaintance of the prime suspect in the Benson baby kidnap or maybe she would wait till the close of the day to exchange the gossip with her friends over a bottle of beer and pizza. What he wanted to know though was whether she believed him innocent. It was a thing he had begun doing since he became popular, he would look at a person and wonder if the person was among the parties who sent him hate mails or whether the individual was among the individuals who sent him sympathetic emails. So, as he looked at the woman he wondered if she believed in his innocence, or whether she only attended to him out of courtesy as the job demanded. She gave no indication what her thoughts were. Apart from that brief moment when she had let it slip that she recognized him, she did not treat him with anything less than courteous pleasantness.
On the stroke of ten Holly walked into the building. Samuel noticed that she was clutching a bag of bagel and a cup of coffee. There was a film of sweat on her face, and her hair was tousled, escaping from the ponytail she had braided it into. It appeared as though she had walked. Her dressing suggested a certain laid back kind of persona. He could tell that she was not big on makeup or jewelry, and in a way, this suited him completely. Few minutes after she went into the office, the assistant informed him that she was ready to receive him.
The office seemed like it was freezing. Holly did not seem to notice. In fact, she had removed her coat. The office had a sort of organized clutter. There were a lot of files on the table, but he somehow got the feeling that Holly knew the content of every file on the table, and could pick out one on a moment’s notice. There was a sofa pushed towards the end of the room. The color contrasted with the deep blue of the carpet as well as the oak paneling on the tables. It was almost as though little care was given to aesthetics, focused being placed on the comfort of the individual who picked out the furniture.
“I am not big on fashion or decoration.” Holly said when she caught him staring. He blushed deeply and moved to sit on the leather armchair that she had indicated.