by Nick James
“More than enough, absolutely delicious. Maria told me the recipe, but it just went in one ear and out the other.”
“She does excellent work and is the reason none of my trousers fit,” Luis said and slapped his stomach a couple of times. “Shall we talk in my office?”
“Yes,” Bobby said, then turned to Maria. “Thank you for the wonderful meal and for keeping me company. I hope I didn’t pull you away from your work.”
Luis said something to Maria in Spanish which brought a smile to her face as she nodded, and then Bobby followed him back to his office.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So, have a seat and tell me of your day. I have scotch, Irish whiskey, or bourbon. If I recall, you were partial to the Marker’s Mark, yes?”
“That would be perfect.”
“Ice?” Luis asked, placing two cut glasses on the carved credenza.
“Yes, but not too much.”
“Just like me,” Luis said, dropping an ice cube into both glasses. The ice seemed to chime as it bounced around the inside of the crystal glass and the sound reminded Bobby of Emily mixing a drink the other night for Bennett. From there he thought about the two of them leaving on a flight for San Francisco tomorrow. He wondered if Bennett had booked a room with a Jacuzzi, and then thought…
“Here we are, your drink, Bobby. Bobby?”
“Oh, sorry, I was just making a mental note to myself regarding the files I’m copying.”
“Yes, and how is that going?”
Luis had just sat down in an overstuffed chair and taken a sip of his whiskey. Bobby was seated on the same couch where the two men had sat earlier. He took a sip of his bourbon and set the glass on the coffee table. “I began copying files in earnest this evening. I’m limited by the time I can be alone in there so it’s going to have to be in the evenings until I can get a copy made of the key. That said, I copied maybe ten percent of the files tonight.”
He went on to explain his thoughts about taking the originals and leaving the firm with the copies. “It just might be the case that at some point we run into difficulty and the fact that we have the original files could be just enough to grant whatever it is we’re looking for. To my knowledge, no one in the firm is familiar with Montcreff’s account and they aren’t going to be able to find Montcreff to bring them up to speed. In fact, it would seem a pretty fair assumption that there really is no one to talk to. I don’t know who in his organization would be able to take over that aspect.”
Luis smiled and took a healthy sip. “If you recall, there were a number of men with him the night of your last conversation with Mr. Montcreff. Are you familiar with the story of cutting off the heads of a many headed snake? The hydra?”
“The second labor of Heracles. I had to study it in high school.”
“Well done,” Luis said and raised his glass in a mock toast. “So it was with the snake Montcreff. All the heads were cut off at once that night. A total of six heads, you might say.”
“I have the files in the trunk of my car. Would it be all right to place them in the small room where I’ll be moving to, the new unit?”
“Oh, so you’ve seen it, you have been there?”
“No. I haven’t. Miguel saw it and told me about it. Clearly, it’s more room than I have now, obviously more secure. I would like to get there as soon as possible. As I mentioned I only have clothes to pack and a few personal items.”
“Perhaps Maria might be able to lend you a hand, packing. If she could pack your clothing and Miguel would be there to direct her, would that be acceptable?”
“Yes, very.”
“Done, we’ll have them on it tomorrow while you are at your office.”
Bobby went on to tell him about meeting with Tyler VanCamp the other day and Bishop Dalton tomorrow. “Due to the nature of what we’re dealing with, basically stealing these properties, these are the sort of individuals we need. I can’t get this done with some straight shooter who goes by the book. These two have been caught, but they’ve undoubtedly learned and one has to wonder how many times they’ve pulled something and been able to get away with it.”
Luis nodded as he listened. “So, you think they’ll work out.”
“Yes, I want to put the fear of God in them before they’re given any real access, but we can work on that. One seems to be more suited for the background work, the chapter and verse of the law while the other has an ego and I believe would do well on center stage in any proceeding.”
“Anything else?” Luis asked.
“One thing, the man I’m meeting tomorrow for lunch, Bishop Dalton. He originally turned me down, then left a message in the evening saying he had reconsidered and asked for an appointment. Could your contact maybe see if they could find anything out as to why he had a change of mind. Was there an incident in his office? Or maybe a problem that could rear its head down the road. We don’t need someone investigating us because this man did something stupid.”
“I’ll see if my source can learn anything. Is there anything else?”
“No sir. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with what I’m doing.”
“I am. Please, do not worry yourself, I feel very comfortable.”
“Anything else on the woman Miguel shot?”
“No, not in so many words.” Luis stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. “I’m of the opinion that at this stage it appears the investigation will flounder looking for some other party involved in a drug deal gone bad. That said, we’ve ears to the ground to find out exactly who it was who put her up to it. He’ll have to be dealt with, eliminated.”
“The sooner the better,” Bobby said. “If the bastard is sending people after me I would like to see him eliminated as soon as possible.”
“Whoever it was, they will be. Now, if there is nothing else, I wish you a pleasant rest of the evening,” Luis smiled like he was wise to some sort of inside joke.
“Thank you for your time, Luis.”
They both stood and shook hands before Bobby headed to his room.
He slowly undressed, hanging his shirt and trousers in the closet. He walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower then waited until it was steaming before he stepped in. He showered and shaved then let the hot water run over his body as he slowly relaxed. He turned off the water, grabbed the squeegee hanging on the glass wall and ran it over the glass eliminating the dripping water.
He opened the bathroom door to step into the bedroom and his first thought was hadn’t he left the light on? Then, he noticed the lit candle and smelled the fragrant scent, maybe vanilla, although he wasn’t sure. Maria suddenly sat up from the pillows and motioned him forward into the bed. He climbed part way in as she wrapped her arms around him, kissed him, and pulled him toward her. After a long passionate kiss, she had him lie down on his stomach. She climbed on top of him and began to knead the muscles in his back. At some point, she applied a cream or an oil, he couldn’t tell which. Whatever it was, it felt wonderfully warm as she rubbed and massaged it into his back.
It was a good half-hour before she rolled him over and began to work on his chest and stomach muscles, then worked her way back up to his shoulders applying more cream or oil, massaging his chest and arms. Then she moved up and began to softly rub his temples and along his jaw line, occasionally she made a soothing sort of sound, but never said anything.
She stopped after another five minutes and he felt the sheet being pulled over him. Her firm body was suddenly up against him, warm beneath the sheet, kissing his neck and then her head was suddenly under the sheet, working her way down toward his mid-section.
When she was finished, she curled alongside of him, whispered “Thank you,” in his ear and then quickly drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When he woke he was alone in bed with no idea of when Maria had left. He dressed quickly and went to the dining room. Three trays were lined up on the buffet. One with eggs, another with French toast, and the l
ast with bacon. He felt absolutely ravenous piling one plate with eggs and bacon and another with French toast. No sooner had he sat down than a woman came out of the kitchen, filled a mug with coffee, placed it in front of him and left the room. He read the newspaper that had been neatly folded at his place while he ate breakfast. When he finished his breakfast, he set the newspaper back on the table and a moment later, Miguel stepped out of the kitchen.
“To your office?”
“I’d like to go home and change first. I spoke with Luis last night. We discussed…”
“The move?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact.”
“I’ll take you to the office, then I have a crew coming in to pack for you. They should have your clothes and things out of there today. I’m thinking tomorrow, Saturday, might be a day for you to get personal items, things they’d miss.”
“Good. Do you know is Luis still here? I’d like to thank him and…”
“I believe he is still asleep, at least he hasn’t been seen yet. Shall I drive you home so you can change?”
“Yes,” Bobby said and a few minutes later they were taking the elevator down to the parking level.
Once changed, he spent five minutes pointing out items and clothing he wanted packed and delivered to the new unit. He handed Miguel two hundred-dollar bills and told him to pick up steaks and wine for the evening, and then they were off.
Bobby stepped off the elevator and into the office at just a little after nine. “Any phone messages, Marci?” he asked, and was glad to see her shake her head no as she answered the phone. He headed back to his office. Bennett wouldn’t be in the office for another hour and then only for a short while before catching his flight out to San Francisco. He thought about calling Emily, just to add stress to her day, then decided against it.
He strolled into the file room. Mike Dorsey had already opened a drawer and pulled out the next stack of Montcreff files. Bobby worked through them for the next three hours, then looked at his watch and said, “I’ve got a luncheon meeting at one, Mike. I’m going to just leave these files here and I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Okay. I’ll leave a key with Marci. I’m in a meeting that’s going to probably go until the middle of the afternoon.”
“Would you have a spare key? I hate to have a key just sitting up there with all these files here, not just my stuff but, well everything,” Bobby said then sort of raised his arms to encompass the entire file room.
“A spare, yeah I suppose.” He pulled open a desk drawer, took out a ring of keys, then carefully removed one and handed it to Bobby. The key was brass with the name Schlage embossed on the end, common enough, and he figured he would have no problem having it duplicated.
“Thanks Mike, I’ll leave the key on your desk when I get back. Enjoy your meeting.”
“Nothing that couldn’t be handled in a fifteen-minute briefing, but we’re going to waste a couple of hours instead. You have a nice lunch.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luigi’s, the restaurant where Bobby was going to meet Bishop Dalton, was just a two-block walk from the office. He took the elevator down to the second floor, then meandered through the skyway system, exiting a building directly across from Luigi’s. It wasn’t until he’d stepped inside the bar that he realized it may not have been his brightest idea to stroll over here without protection. He stood by the door, but off to the side, waiting for a long moment just to see if anyone with a gun came in and scanned the dim lit room for him. Thankfully, no one did.
There were maybe a dozen booths against the walls of the ‘L’ shaped room along with an equal number of tables. The place was about two-thirds full with patrons a couple of the tables in the process of paying and leaving. He walked to a booth in the far back corner of the room and slid into the far side. From that angle, he would still be able to watch and see who came in the front door.
Bishop Dalton didn’t enter for another twenty minutes, ten minutes late. He took three or four steps in the door then proceeded to scan the room. Bobby waved from the back booth until he caught his attention. Dalton flashed a smile and headed toward the back, stopping at a booth and then a table to chat for a moment with whomever was seated there, laughing loudly until just about everyone was looking at him.
Eventually he made his way back to Bobby. “Mr. Custer,” he said in a booming voice. He thrust his hand toward Bobby, then proceeded to crush it in a vise-like grip.
“Please, call me Bobby, Bishop. Have a seat. You seem to be quite the popular guy. Come here often?”
“Rarely, as a matter of fact. Just a few people I know from some time ago. You know how this town is, everyone wants to say hi.”
“Believe me, I do,” Bobby said then opened a menu and scanned it quickly. “Anything in particular you’d recommend?”
“No, to tell you the truth, I rarely eat here, and hardly ever for lunch. I’ll be going for the cheeseburger, just to play it safe. You should probably do the same,” Bishop said, then flashed a smile of pearly white teeth. He made a practiced show of moving a large ring back and forth on his right hand. The ring was silver with the top almost square, completely covering the first joint of his ring finger. A purple ST was centered in the silver square. The square was surrounded by diamonds.
Finally, Bobby said, “That’s a big ring you have there.”
“Oh this? Little something I earned.” He emphasized the word ‘earned’. “NCAA division champs in college, St. Thomas. Yeah, a lot of hard work, I played left field. Thought about a career in the majors, then decided to go to law school instead. Got some calls, but I’d made my decision. Haven’t looked back since. You might say an early success.”
Or you might say ‘full of yourself’, Bobby thought. They made small talk until a waitress came and took their order. Cheeseburgers for both of them… Bishop added a decaf coffee and Bobby went with mineral water. Once the waitress left, Bishop leaned forward. “So, you said you’re working on something, a project where you needed my expertise.”
“Actually, what I said was I had an opportunity and would be interested in any thoughts or feedback you might have. You suggested it sounded like I was selling limited-edition coins marking the landing on the moon and you weren’t interested.”
“As I said when last we spoke, I may have been a bit hasty. Just a joke all in good fun. It was just one of those days where I had twenty-four hours of work and only twelve hours to get it all finished. But I’m all ears at this point. How can I help you?”
“I appreciate that. Here’s what I’m looking at,” Bobby said. He went on to lay out a very general overview of the sort of properties and partnerships that would be dealt with, the estimated years involved in accomplishing the task, and without naming names the suggestion that there was liable to be an awful lot of grey area given the principals involved. They chatted through their meal, Bishop asking an occasional question, but nothing too probing.
“Given the complexities of the situations you describe and nature of some of the principals you’ve alluded to, I can understand your need for,” he seemed to search for the right word. “Your need for privacy. That said, it would seem somewhat fruitless from my point of view to proceed without knowing who’s involved. Is this individual local?”
“Yeah, he’s local.” Bobby thought for a moment then decided Bishop was probably right. “It’s a gentleman by the name of Morris Montcreff.”
“I’ll be damned,” Bishop said, knocked his ring on the table a couple of times, and sat back in his chair.
“Given Montcreff’s involvement, privacy is a must. I want to maintain an extremely low profile, hopefully generate as little public attention as possible and keep any interference from the city, county, state and federal authorities to an absolute minimum.”
“Will Montcreff go along with that? I’ve always considered him a bit of a loose cannon…well, among other things. Actually, I’ve known him since I was a kid, lived just a couple of blocks away fro
m him, in fact. He’d drive by in a black Cadillac, and we’d always wave. I’d always think ‘someday that’s gonna be me’.”
“And you know him?”
“More or less. I actually handled some transactions where he was involved.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, one was a small commercial building over on lower University, not far from the state capitol. That was some time back. The other was maybe six or seven years ago, an apartment building complex up in Roseville. He was part of a group that was put together. I think they held the complex for three or four years, sold it for a nice profit once the market started to come back.”
“And you handled that transaction?”
“The sale? No, unfortunately I had nothing to do with it. My sense is, it would have been a tidy profit without a lot of work involved. If I remember correctly, someone’s son or daughter in the group handled the legal work. I’m sure I would have brought more to the table, been able to get them another ten percent, but live and learn as they say.”
“How well do you know Montcreff?”
“How well? We say hi if and when we meet. He pretends he knows me and probably tells folks we’re friends, always makes an effort to sidle up to me. He’d share a joke, ask me how I’m doing. Crotchety old bastard, all the same, but what are you going to do? That’s where the business is.”
“Exactly. I’m not sure how many personal dealings we’ll be having with Mr. Montcreff. Most of it will be with attorneys.”
“You deal with him very much? I mean, I’ve still got a number that probably works. I get a Christmas card every year.” He sort of chuckled at that. “I’d be happy to call and put in a good word for you. It would most likely be enough to push him your way. I could get things moving in the right direction for you, probably save a lot of time right out of the chute.”