Saving Sharkey

by Felicity Nisbet

I glanced down at my watch and once again Sharkey responded to my thoughts. “You’re welcome to take my Lincoln home if you lads need to get going. I can have Maureen drop me off.” He glanced at his daughter. “That is, if you aren’t anxious to get home to your husband.”

  Maureen made no effort to hide her frown. “Andy’s working.”

  “On a Saturday night?” Sharkey attempted to swallow back his words, but it was too late.

  “Work’s piling up. He needs to get through some of it before Monday,” Maureen said with little certitude in her statement. “And then he’s headed to the club for a work out.”

  I was tempted to suggest she make a surprise visit to her husband’s office to see what he was really doing, but it was none of my business. Her father most likely would have made the same suggestion, but for the scowl on her face in response to his last comment.

  Instead, Sharkey said, “You do know that Charlie here is a private detective. I’m sure he’d be happy to oblige if you’d like him to investigate your husband’s whereabouts.”

  Maureen’s glare was weakened by the slight quiver of her lips and the moisture in her eyes. “Dad.” It was spoken without the strength of her conviction. She waved at the bartender, motioning for him to bring her another glass of wine and with one quick motion, she emptied the glass in her hand which was at least half full only a moment earlier.

  Her father didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, darlin’. I just thought you might like to know what he’s been up to— what causes his mood fluctuations. “

  Sharkey pulled out the business card that Charlie had given him the day we’d all met. Maureen snatched it from her father’s clasp. We were silent as she stared at it for a moment, before allowing a smile to creep across her lips. “Only if you have him investigate someone else as well,” she said.

  “And who might that—?” Sharkey stopped himself as he realized exactly who his daughter meant.

  “Aileen. You know you think she’s up to something.”

  “I do not think any such thing.” But even as he said it, the wheels of suspicion had started turning.

  Maureen stuck her hand out to shake her father’s. “Deal?”

  He grudgingly accepted her hand and shook it. “Deal. I suppose you’ll want me to pay for all of this.”

  “Of course,” Maureen said.

  “If you’re both serious about this, it would be very helpful to know what behavior is giving you cause for concern,” Charlie said most diplomatically.

  But Maureen clamped her lips tightly shut.

  “It would assist us to know what your suspicions are, lassie,” Charlie encouraged. “It would save time and money.”

  This time she did respond. The feisty daughter of Sharkey had returned. “None! I have none! I just—You’re the PI! You figure it out.”

  “One of Charlie’s specialties is investigating spouses or significant others,” I said. “More often than not he proves their innocence.” Only a slight exaggeration.

  Maureen’s eyebrows rose with that comment. “Really?”

  “Often,” Charlie concurred. “What is it that has you upset?”

  “You’ll just think I’m a spoiled brat if I say.”

  “Nonsense,” Charlie said.

  She exhaled a heart-wounding sigh and said, “It’s just that some times he can be so warm and attentive. Then suddenly he gets so annoyed with me, impatient, and he practically ignores me. He stays late at work, goes to the health club for hours, doesn’t bother to call, doesn’t show up when he says he will. It’s become a pattern almost.”

  Charlie nodded and pulled a second card from his billfold and handed it to Sharkey. “Email me their information. Where they work or go to school, where they spend time outside of work and classes, anything that you think is pertinent. We’ll need some photographs of Andy as well. I can do some preliminary work right away, and I’ll be able to give it more attention once I wrap up an insurance fraud case I’m working on.”

  If I knew Charlie, he wouldn’t wait that long.

  “I can help out,” I offered. “I’ve plenty of time between lectures this week.”

  “You work with Charlie?” Maureen asked. “I thought you were a professor.”

  “I assist the master detective only when I’ve the time.”

  “Or if I have a particularly interesting case,” Charlie added. “He realized soon into our friendship that it would be advantageous to get his PI license.”

  “Advantageous to whom?” I said. “He encouraged me so he could take advantage of my skills as a photographer.”

  Ignoring the truth of my comment, Charlie turned to Sharkey and Maureen and said, “So, with your permission and the information you email me, we shall proceed?”

  Sharkey nodded and Maureen smiled, apparently happy with the bargain she had struck. Apparently she was willing to sacrifice her husband to the wolves if it meant getting rid of her father’s girlfriend.

  “Here are the keys to my car,” Sharkey said, looking from Charlie to me as if deciding who the more sober one of us was, and finally handing them off to me. “Great to have you aboard . . . the Westside Wanderers as well as this other matter.”

  “Our pleasure,” Charlie said. “Very enjoyable afternoon.”

  “I’m glad we had our near accident,” Sharkey said. “Why don’t you come over for dinner? Thursday? Maureen and my son Declan and their spouses are coming. What do you think?”

  Charlie and I looked at each other, both keeping our expressions clear of judgment. Neither of us, I was sure, was up for another family squabble.

  “I’ll even bring out my thirty-year old Glenfiddich single malt.”

  “What time would you like us?” Charlie asked.

  Sharkey chuckled. “Six thirty? Dinner will be at seven.”

  If nothing else, it would give us the opportunity to observe the two people we would be investigating. And we would indulge ourselves in a thirty-year-old bottle of whisky. Both Charlie and I kept a bottle of our own single malt in stock, but ours were fifteen-year-old bottles.

  “If you’ve discovered anything by then, you can tell us that evening, subtly, of course,” Sharkey said. “And you’re more than welcome to bring dates if you’d like.”

  I didn’t know about Charlie, but there was only one date I would want to bring and she was off living in the San Juans. And the last I’d heard, she was still preoccupied with a case and a newspaper reporter on Anamcara Island.

  “It’s good you’re on the job then, laddie,” Charlie said once we were outside, walking towards Sharkey’s Lincoln. “We’d best do some incognito surveillance before we meet young Andy Currie on Thursday night.”

  “Maureen’s husband? Oh, aye, but Aileen has met us already. We will not go unobserved.”

  “Aye, she has that, but since she’s taking those education courses at the University, it will be easy to provide an excuse for running into her. And we can always disguise ourselves or utilize our trusty hide-behind-the-newspaper trick. Besides which, something tells me she’s not really the one we need to observe.”

  “You think Eddie just went along with Maureen’s deal in order to get her to let us investigate?”

  “Aye, I do. He doesn’t like to see his daughter unhappy.” He looked me directly in the eye. “As no father does.”

  Chapter 3

  Fortunately I was not the only one assigned to the spy-on-mate job. Charlie had called in some of his old students to assist. But I did my share, particularly at lunch time and on evenings when Maureen called to say Andy was coming home late.

  For the most part, he did not go anywhere from the office except to the health club and to lunch. When the weather allowed, he ate in the courtyard. Otherwise, it was one of the restaurants within walking distance of his building. Having only four days to observe him before the dinner party, camera in hand, I was stationed outside his building by eleven thirty each morning. Twice I followed him into a restaurant where he was joined by some gentleme
n with whom he undoubtedly worked.

  The one day he was able to enjoy the Seattle autumn sun, a young blond woman joined him. They seemed to know each other well, kissing each other’s cheeks as they sat down at a table. Someone he worked with? She had walked over from the building across from his. While I observed, there was nothing to indicate that they were anything other than close acquaintances. All the same, I took several photographs. Just as they were finishing their lunch, a young man joined them, shaking Andy Currie’s hand and hugging his lunch mate. I zoomed in on him for a moment, and decided that his resemblance to Maureen was too strong to ignore. Green eyes, reddish brown hair, lighter than hers. Her brother Declan? If that was the case, then there was nothing sordid about the other two having lunch together. Perhaps our young knave was innocent after all.

  “Nothing suspicious?” Charlie asked me when I checked in with him.

  “Nothing so far,” I said, back at my post, this time parked two cars over from the young accountant’s BMW. “Ah, he’s leaving early today. I’ll follow him for a wee while to see if he’s heading home after all. Maureen did say he called in and said he’d be late tonight.”

  “Call me later. I’m curious to hear.”

  “You sound as if you’re expecting mischief. Any reason for that?”

  Charlie was silent for a moment, as if considering what the reason was. “A hunch? Or maybe just having seen Maureen upset both times we’ve met her.”

  I hung up and backed out of my parking spot, following the lad as he pulled out of the lot. Fifteen minutes later we were down at the waterfront, not far from the ferry terminal.

  Dressed in suit and tie, he looked out of place as he climbed from his car and walked toward an old industrial building. It would be an odd place for a liaison. I did snap a couple quick pictures while I waited for him to return to his car which was well over an hour later.

  “What would he be doing down here?” I asked Sharkey when I reached him on his cell.

  “You didn’t see him with a woman?”

  “No, but I didn’t go into the building. I seriously doubt he’d be meeting a woman here. He looks more like the five-star hotel type.”

  “He’d like to believe that anyway.” Sharkey groaned. “It is possible that he’s meeting with a client of his accounting firm’s.”

  “I would have thought that a possibility as well, had he not left his briefcase in the car. Has he mentioned that he’s considering purchasing a boat?”

  “Ahh, that he has on occasion,” Sharkey said, chuckling. “He does seem to like to compete with me. And I have two. But just in case, follow him when he comes out of there.”

  “Speak of the devil,” I said, turning over the engine of my Rover.

  “Anything on Aileen?” he asked before I could hang up.

  “No. Nothing. Just classes, lunch, coffee with friends, study groups—don’t worry, they meet at the library—soccer practice, the pub.”

  “No interested men?”

  “Plenty of those, but she does not give them the time of day.”

  “How have you managed to stay under her radar?” he asked.

  “I’m a master of disguise,” I said, glancing over at the sun glasses, cap, and newspaper on the seat beside me.

  “Well, keep me updated,” Sharkey said.

  I hung up and pulled out a half block behind his son-in-law. It didn’t take me but fifteen minutes to realize that he was headed for the Evergreen Bridge. I pressed Maureen’s number and she confirmed that he had just called to say he’d be home for dinner after all. Interesting. He had gone down to the waterfront, spent an hour, then headed home. Something had interfered with his plans to be home late. I was more curious than ever to meet the lad.

  The next day, after teaching a seminar, I picked up where Charlie’s oldest student, Manny, had left off, following the son-in-law as he exited the parking lot after work. I recognized the route he took to his health club. When he’d gone there two days ago, I had not been able to follow him inside, having a meeting to attend. Today I took full advantage.

  Fortunately I had taken to keeping a gym bag in the back of my car. Also fortunate was that this health club offered guest passes. I quickly signed up for one and headed to the locker room to change as had Andy Currie. Having no lock, I had left my billfold in my car. I elected to keep my car key and cell phone on me, the latter mainly for its photographic capacity.

  I kept my distance, not wanting him to recognize me at the Thursday night dinner as the new guy at the club. I selected a rowing machine as opposed to an elliptical simply for the distance it would put between us. Also of assistance was the crowd at this hour.

  He spent forty five minutes on the treadmill despite the glorious weather which he elected not to enjoy. Always a bewildering phenomenon to me. I did beat him to the weight machines where, after noting his upper body definition, I assumed he was headed. The machines were in high demand by everyone from the young to the old and the fit to the not-so-fit. Some seemed to enjoy their efforts. Others struggled and still others anguished. Whatever did we do in the past without health clubs as a method of self-flagellation? I wondered. How did we keep fit and build muscles? I laughed to myself. And cleanse our souls of guilt? Walk and everyday hard work perhaps? Such a concept. Of course, that was before remote controls and computers that allowed our fingers to do more than just the walking.

  By six I realized that this was the designated social hour. The older crowd seemed to have diminished and been replaced by young women in little more than their underwear. That was not the most noticeable difference. Andy’s earphones had come off and his attention was now roaming from the television to his fellow masochists. While I detected no relationships with anyone, he did appear to enjoy the pretense of flirtation.

  An attractive young man with thick blond hair, he had a charming smile much like that of his father-in-law. The muscular build was not a deterrent, I thought as young women hovered over him while he bench-pressed a two twenty five. I smiled to myself, the ego surfacing, at my two fifty. I quickly reminded myself that pride goeth before a fall.

  Neither was the gold band on his finger a deterrent. Nor did not wearing one, I deduced by the attention I too was receiving from women older than the young ladies in their twenties who were attracted to young Andy. Those who were more attentive to me must have been at least into their thirties.

  I did wonder how Maureen would have reacted to this scene. I had a flash of her red hair flying out behind her as she stormed into the club and stomped across the room to stake our her territory. I chuckled at the image.

  Fatigued by the lengthy work-out, I was more than ready to head home to my Jacuzzi of which I was becoming extremely fond. However, this being the only opportunity to observe him here incognito, I would not leave prematurely. What he did after his work-out was of particular interest. A shower and a change of clothing and then the in-house juice bar. He had bothered to shower and change for juice?

  All I could say was if the man wasn’t having an extra-marital affair, he was certainly a prime candidate for one. Yet the truth was, there was no evidence of scandal to report to date. In fact, the most bothersome occurrence was after he left the juice bar. Before exiting the club, he detoured around the business counter and went into an office where he remained for a good half hour. I would have suspected a liaison with one of his young voluptuous admirers it there hadn’t been a man’s name on the office door that he had entered.

  As I walked well behind him through the parking lot, I dialed Maureen’s cell and told her what I had observed. She dismissed it easily. “He’s a flirt, always has been. And he probably has a friend who works at the club or maybe even a client, so I wouldn’t worry about his spending time in the office. But he just called and said he’s on his way home.”

  Good. I did not need to follow him anymore today. Home sounded good to me as well. The Jacuzzi and a pint sounded better.

  “You know what, Malcolm? Maybe this whole
thing is silly and a waste of time and money. You haven’t found anything suspicious so far. You might as well stop following him.”

  Not an unusual reaction. According to Charlie, people often went from suspicion to guilt rather quickly for having mistrusted their spouse. But in four days?

  “Hold on,” I told her. “Someone’s calling in. Back in a minute.”

  I switched over to the other call. Sharkey. I brought him up to speed on his girlfriend—nothing new to report—and his son-in-law. Was it my imagination, or was he anxious for us to find something on one of them? Or both?

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the lad has invested in the place,” he said. “Always looking for the mighty dollar. To say nothing of the prestige of being part owner of an upscale health club. Think how that would impress the ladies.”

  “It didn’t seem to concern Maureen. She’s on the other line. I need to get back to her. She’s thinking of calling off our tail brigade.”

  Sharkey laughed. “Of course she is. She would not want you to find anything. Just remind her of our bargain.”

  I switched back over to his daughter.

  “About time,” she said.

  I chuckled, right after apologizing. “You do realize that if we stop”—I searched for a nonthreatening word—“observing Andy, your dad will call us off of Aileen’s trail as well.”

  Silence. Then, “Good point.” More silence. Then, “Okay, keep going.” I could almost hear her next remark as if it had been spoken. “Just be sure not to find anything.” But that remained a silent comment between the two of us.

  * * *

  “No date?” I asked Charlie when he appeared at my door on Thursday evening.

  “And who would I bring?”

  “Perhaps a member of the Charlie McNair fan club? Didn’t I see an attractive brunette chatting you up in the pub the other night?”

  “Ah yes, she was lovely, but I fear she was more enamored with my trumpet playing than with me.”

  My raised eyebrows gave him cause for suspicion. “What are you thinking, Malcolm?”

  “Simply that any woman who tolerates your trumpet playing, is definitely enamored with you.”