Corridor Man Volumes 1, 2, 3,4 5

by Nick James

  “I was wondering if you were free for dinner? I haven’t seen you in a while and was sort of hoping we could get together.”

  “Oh, I wish we could. Honest, I really do, but well, these girls are liable to stay for a while. I’d love to take a rain check on that dinner invite. I just can’t make it tonight.”

  A baby shower, not a bad excuse he thought. “Some other time then. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow night and another one pending. Listen, enjoy your girlfriends.”

  “I will, but I’d much rather be getting together with you.”

  “Thanks, some other time, then,” he said and hung up thinking there was a pretty good chance he might be recording later tonight.

  Miguel picked him up at 6:30. They drove to a Thai place Bobby liked, picked up dinner, and headed home. They were pretty much finished with the meal before Miguel said anything.

  “I heard something about the new house today, maybe.”

  “New house?”

  “It’s in a building, not far from where Luis lives. You could easily walk to his house if you liked.”

  “So it’s not a house, it’s a building like this or like Luis’s place.”

  “More like the one Luis has. It is the top floor, secure. No one could attack from the outside.”

  “And you’ve seen it?”

  “No, I only heard of it today. I can maybe look at it tomorrow.”

  “Interesting. Please, don’t tell anyone we’ve talked about it and let’s just see what it’s like.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. It’s best to act surprised. No?” Miguel said.

  “Yes, it’s best to act surprised. Look for two things, will it be safe for both of us and, will there be enough room? I would think you might want a friend to be there with you from time to time.” At the word friend Bobby had raised his eyebrows.

  That brought a smile to Miguel’s face.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bobby adjourned to his bedroom with his computer a little after eight and turned on the monitor’s at Emily’s. She was in the second floor den, sitting on the couch. She was wearing a white, short-sleeved blouse and a very short plaid skirt, looking like she was dressed up for her first day at primary school. Bennett’s back was to the camera, but this time there was no mistaking him.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked, then took a sip from the crystal glass in his right hand.

  “Didn’t you tell me you had a lake place?”

  “Well, yes, I mean, I do. I just don’t think that would be the best idea.”

  “Why not? Is there a beach? Do you have a boat?”

  “Yes, of course there’s a beach, gorgeous as a matter of fact and we’ve got a fantastic pontoon, a twenty-five footer.”

  “You could drive me out to the middle of the lake and I could lay out there with nothing on. Get rid of all my tan lines,” she giggled, raised her eyebrows at the same time and then took a sip of wine. “What do you think?”

  “See, there’s sort of a problem. I mean, well I’ve got neighbors and…”

  “Well, just have them come along, the more the merrier, right?”

  “Gee, Emily, not exactly. You see, umm, they’re friends with me, and of course my wife, and I just don’t think it would be the best idea.” He took a hearty gulp from the crystal glass.

  Bobby knew him well enough to know he was uncomfortable just now, very uncomfortable. He also knew Emily well enough to know this was nothing but an act, and she was about to get her hooks into him, big time.

  “I just thought it would be kind of a fun adventure if we got away, just the two of us for some real private time. I promise I’ll be very good,” she said putting on a pout for a second. “Or, would you like me to be very bad?”

  “We can go somewhere, anywhere,” Bennett said, suddenly warming to the idea. “It just can’t be the lake place. That’s a bad idea. No, that just wouldn’t work.”

  “You mean anywhere?” she said, and her eyes seemed to light up.

  “Well, yeah, I suppose, I mean we have some time constraints. After all, I have the office, you have your, well, whatever it is you do. That probably takes China off the table,” Bennett laughed and then drained his glass.

  Emily was immediately on her feet. She picked up his empty glass, then walked over to the cabinet where the crystal decanters were and stood just beneath the recording device. Bobby could hear her, but couldn’t see what she was doing. “Well, if we can’t do your lake place, and we can’t do China, how about we go to San Francisco? You don’t have neighbors there, do you?” This was followed up by two ice cubes ringing into the crystal glass.

  “San Francisco?”

  “What, don’t tell me that’s out, too.” She suddenly walked back into view and handed him his refilled glass. Once he took the glass she ran her hand slowly across his shoulder and down his arm before settling back on the couch. This time she sat a lot closer to him with her legs tucked underneath her in a sort of little girl pose.

  “No, no, not at all. In fact, that might be perfect, I could write it off.”

  She flashed a disgusted look for a half-second then recovered. “Okay, but sooner rather than later. How ‘bout this weekend?”

  “This weekend? Oh, well…”

  “Oh, come on, Bennett. Don’t you get it? I want you all to myself. Please, please, please, please. I’m so tired of hearing you tell me no.”

  “Well, I suppose we could see if there were any flights available. I mean it would seem to me that on such short notice…”

  She was suddenly up and standing in front of him. She took his glass from his hand, set it on the coffee table and then climbed onto his lap facing him. The high backed, winged chair was blocking the view, but it was pretty clear she was beginning to unbutton her blouse. She seemed to undo a button with each word. “I’m. Going. To. Take. Care. Of. Everything.” With the word ‘Everything’, she slipped the blouse off and flung it to the side. She wrapped her hands around his chins and kissed him long and hard. She drew back, sort of shook her shoulders and then shouted, “Come on, let’s go, this is a reason to celebrate.” She jumped off his lap, topless and smiling. She grabbed him by the hand, kissed him again, then led him out of the room.

  Bobby debated watching what was about to happen in Emily’s bedroom for a brief moment before quickly deciding to just record the event for a future use. He accessed the device in Emily’s bedroom, turned on the record option, and caught the two of them just entering the room. Before the late night activity began, he quickly moved to a news site and started scanning articles on whatever had happened during the day.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Good morning, Bennett,” Bobby called from his desk as Bennett walked past the office door. “How’d your meeting go last night?”

  Bennett stopped for half a second, smiled and said, “The usual sort of problems, but we managed to iron them out. It may require me running some interference in the next week or so. Probably have to head out to San Francisco and make sure everyone is on the same page.”

  “San Francisco? That could be a reason to celebrate,” Bobby said, then kept a straight face as he looked at Bennett.

  If Bennett picked up on the reference to Emily’s statement the night before, he gave no indication. “I’ve a…travel agent, looking into flights today. We’ll see what she finds.”

  “Good luck,” Bobby called and thought ‘Travel agent’. Forty-five minutes later, he left his office to review a few thousand Montcreff files in the file room. Bennett was in his usual pose, arms locked behind his head, staring dreamily out the office window as Bobby walked past.

  A half hour after settling into the chair and paging through the first of the day’s files the phone rang. “File room,” Mike Dorsey answered. “Yeah, just a minute, let me check. Mr. Custer, call coming through for you. You want it here?”

  “Speak of the devil, I bet it’s Morris Montcreff. I better take it in my office. If you can have Marci give me a thir
ty second head start, I’ll grab it in there.” With that he was out of his chair and heading toward the office, not bothering to wait for an answer. The phone began to ring just as he opened his office door.

  “This is Bobby Custer.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Custer. Bishop Dalton here, returning your call.”

  “Thank you for calling…”

  “Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. I was in the midst of a closing all afternoon that ended up going into the late hours. I hope you can understand.”

  Bobby had a pretty strong hunch Bishop Dalton probably listened to his phone message, checked his watch, and figured it was after four and he’d just call in the morning. “Not a problem, glad to hear from you. I called because I wanted to discuss an opportunity with you, listen to your feedback, and see…”

  “An opportunity? Sounds like your selling limited edition coins marking the landing on the moon. I don’t think I’d be interested…”

  “No, I’m not selling anything of the sort, nor am I selling real estate. I would like to meet with you outside our offices, casually. If you don’t like what you hear, you can get up and leave at any time.”

  “But you’re not going to let me know what this might be about?”

  “No, not over the phone.”

  “Well, I appreciate you getting in touch with me, but I don’t believe at this juncture I’d be interested. I wish you all success in whatever your endeavor is.”

  “All right, thank you for returning my call. Enjoy your day,” Bobby said and hung up.

  Shit.

  He headed back to the file room, but not before taking a quick peek at Bennett. He hadn’t seemed to move much from the last time Bobby had looked in. Hands clasped behind his head, dreamy look on his face as he stared out the window. The only change seemed to be the coffee mug now sitting in the middle of the otherwise cleared desk.

  “Everything okay?” Mike Dorsey asked as Bobby settled into the chair and returned to the open file on the desk. “Yeah, one of Montcreff’s attorneys with a question. He could have found the answer if he’d wanted to look for a minute. Guess he thought he could just call me and I’d look it up for him.”

  A little before five, Bobby moved his head from side to side, cracked his neck then stood and stretched. He could do with a good back rub from Emily right about now, but that probably wasn’t going to happen for a while. He made a mental note to check with Bennett to find out when he had scheduled his scam trip to San Francisco. He returned the Montcreff files to the filing cabinet, then called Miguel to come and pick him up. While he waited, he called Morris Montcreff’s phone to leave another message.

  “The number you have reached is not available at this time,” the recording said. Which probably meant the battery had finally died on Montcreff’s phone, wherever it was. Bobby was willing to bet it was still in Montcreff’s pocket, now buried wherever Luis’s men had decided to dump all those bodies. Probably a good thing the battery had finally died. He didn’t need the police tracking it somehow and finding where he was buried. He locked his office, then took the elevator down to the first floor of the building and waited for Miguel.

  When he climbed in the back seat of the Mercedes he said, “I’ve got a meeting tonight, right across the street from the condo. At that Salt Cellar restaurant. I’d like you to watch the man I meet with, give me your impression. Feel free to leave at any time and take the rest of the evening off.”

  Miguel gave him a look in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure? I can…”

  “I think I can cross the street and find my own way home. Besides, you spend another night alone with me, people might start talking.”

  Miguel smiled back, nodded, and then headed through the rush hour traffic to the Salt Cellar.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He was fifteen minutes early and seated at the corner of the bar. He was wearing an open collar white shirt and a grey suit just like he said he would. Miguel was seated a few stools away, facing Bobby at a ninety-degree angle.

  Tyler VanCamp arrived before Bobby’s drink was in front of him, more than ten minutes early. He appeared just like the image included in the background information Luis had sent over and Bobby wondered if it was just a coincidence or had someone actually gone out and photographed the man forty-eight hours earlier. “Mr. Custer,” he said and extended his hand.

  “Please, make it Bobby. How are you, Tyler? Nice to finally meet you. What will you have?”

  “A vodka martini, make it dirty,” he said to the bartender who wore a brass name tag that said “Gary”. He pulled out a stool, sat, faced Bobby and rested an elbow on the bar. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

  “Thanks for coming. I should begin by telling you I’m currently with Denton, Allen, Sawyer, and Hinz.”

  “Yeah, DASH, you mentioned that yesterday. Look, after we spoke I did a little checking. Your firm seems to have done reasonably well, so I have to ask myself, what do you have going that the firm can’t handle?”

  “And what did you come up with?”

  “This business? Come on, it could be anything. My guess, one of your clients is pulling up stakes, leaving the firm. He made you an offer and you’re thinking about it. Thinking hard. And you maybe have come to the conclusion you can’t handle it all by yourself, so you need someone. Someone like me.” VanCamp smiled, took a sip of his dirty martini, gave a slight gasp before he smacked his lips a couple of times and said, “Am I right?”

  “Partially. I have a client. He is loosely associated with the firm, through another client actually. This other client is in the process of being bought out by my client, you might say.”

  “I knew it,” VanCamp said and took another sip.

  “There’s going to be the transfer of assets, a lot of assets. It’s going to take years and that doesn’t count anything new that might come up. What I’m looking for is someone who has been around the block. Someone who would be content working for just one client and most importantly, someone who knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

  VanCamp pursed his lips and seemed to think about that for a moment. “So why me?”

  “Why you? You’re not from here originally. South Dakota, isn’t it? Spearfish?”

  “Well done. Who’d you talk to?”

  “Just due diligence. You’re experienced, you’ve been around the block. Property and acquisitions are your strong suit.”

  VanCamp smiled, “Yeah, I think I can safely say I’ve earned a bit of a reputation in that particular field.”

  “Apparently. Tell me about your terminations.”

  The smile immediately vanished. “How did you find out about that?”

  “I’m thorough. You have to be in this business.”

  “Well,” he said, and took a heavy sip from his martini. “There seemed to be a question of funds and where they were, exactly. In the end, it was determined that nothing was amiss, but I felt it would be best if I applied my talents elsewhere.”

  “So in other words, you misappropriated funds, got caught by your firm, and agreed to return them if they wouldn’t report you to the bar. They agreed since they would have lost the client if your misappropriation came to light, provided you resigned. Sound about right?”

  “That might be just a little harsh.”

  “But basically true, right, Tyler?”

  “We learn by our mistakes,” he said, then raised his glass and finished what was left of his drink.

  “Care for another?”

  “You still buying?”

  “I am,” Bobby said, then nodded at the bartender for a refill on VanCamp’s glass. “So tell me about the next time, when was that, 2010?”

  “Jesus Christ, you on a mission here to make me feel bad?”

  “Just need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “That was completely different. My ex was involved, we sort of made some adjustments on our taxes a year or two before.”

  “Made some adjustments?”

 
“Mmm-mmm, a question of reportable income earned and a deduction or two. She was just fine with it until the feds had to stick their noses in. Long story short, the bitch fingered me. I sort of lost my cool and she ended up filing a restraining order. The firm told me they didn’t need the baggage. I mean, that’s actually what they said, ‘didn’t need the baggage’. Of course the office manager was a woman, the bitch is still there. Got on her high horse about woman’s rights, and all guys are jerks, and at that point I just decided to pull the plug and start my own gig.”

  “And how has that been working.”

  He took a sip. “You seem to already know the answer to all the questions you’re asking. How do you think it’s going? Look, how ‘bout I just finish this drink and be on my way. If you knew all this shit, why in the hell did you even bother to call?”

  “Because I thought you might be a good fit. I still do, if you’re interested.”

  He looked up, “Don’t fuck with me, man. You serious? I mean I’d work my ass off for you.”

  “Yeah, I believe you would. Look, I’m just beginning to put this together. I need it kept quiet. I pick up even a rumor, you’re the only person I’ve mentioned this to and I’ll know where the rumor came from. And then, well, you won’t be a very happy camper.”

  “I won’t say a word to anyone, honest, I’ll keep it quiet, I promise. But maybe you could tell me, you know, maybe who the client is. I could start doing some research, see how my skills can dovetail with your needs. One of the things my experience has taught me is you’ll make plans, carefully lay things out, then all of a sudden you can’t move fast enough. You let me know who you’re dealing with, I can get a leg up.”

  “Who the client is?”

  “Yeah, you mentioned it’s just one client. If I’m able to do some research, I could hit the ground running, once you’re set to go.”

  “Let me ask you something, you get along with your ex?”