Dead Wrong: Lukas Boston - Private Investigator Book One

by Logan May

  ‘Jesus, you’re not helping so much with vermin control doing that. Julie, can you please release my hands?’

  Julie squirmed a moment, her dress lifting more and revealing she wore nothing else underneath. ‘Okay, but do you promise to come upstairs and tell me all about it?’

  ‘All right, if you insist. Umm, is your brother anywhere nearby? Just asking…’

  ‘No, he’s away.’ Her voice turned grim. ‘Raymond has nothing to do with this business arrangement, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, I get that—shit,’ Julie was squeezing things again. ‘What was that about going upstairs?’

  Julie put her lips on his, talking softly now, breathing hotly into his mouth. ‘We’ll go upstairs and discuss everything properly. By the way, you’ve got forty eight hours to figure this shit out or I’ll shave you again myself. A lot closer than any Brazilian, do you hear me? I’ll pin your balls to my bed-head and God help you, if you bleed on my carpet.’

  It would have been funny, if Julie hadn’t been absolutely serious. The body part of Lukas’ that interested Julie most right now flinched in fear.

  ‘Forty eight hours? Is that all? Does that include… ah, upstairs time? Because last time you wouldn’t let me go until… well, it was a while.’

  ‘What? Are you in some sort of private investigator’s fucking worker’s union? It’s forty eight hours starting now, but you’ve got deals to seal first. I want to cuddle this rabbit.’

  ‘Okay, okay, but what about your dogs?’

  ‘Oh, they love chasing rabbits.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s why I was asking. By the way, is the safety on that pistol?’

  Julie sighed. ‘You’re a hard man to like, Lukas Boston, always complaining like you do. At least you’re always hard, and that’s why I like you.’

  ‘So, you’ll untie me now?’

  ‘Soon, Lukas. Let me play with this rabbit for a while longer.’

  *****

  Lukas sat exhausted, sprawled in his lounge chair. Max, Bob and Oscar had squeezed onto the opposite three-seater. Max supped on a beer.

  ‘It’s not the same without a lemon,’ he complained.

  ‘I don’t have any lemons,’ Lukas said wearily.

  ‘I’m just saying, if you’re gonna buy this kind of beer, you should always have some lemons in the house.’

  ‘You got Foxtel?’ Oscar asked. ‘There’s a game on—’

  ‘No, I ain’t got Foxtel.’

  ‘No Foxtel, no lemons,’ Max said flatly. ‘We look after him better when he comes to our place.’

  ‘At least you’re not tied to the damned chair,’ Lukas told him.

  The three of them exchanged an aggrieved look. Max made a point of finishing his beer, prompting the others to do the same. They stood together and trooped towards the door.

  ‘You should get some lemons,’ Max said over his shoulder as they filed outside.

  *****

  Lukas wanted to watch from the doorway and make sure they’d gone, but it risked the sniper getting lucky. He closed the door and leaned his back against it. A moment later he jerked away, remembering one bullet had gone through the door.

  ‘I’ve got to find out who that bastard is,’ Lukas said tiredly.

  He badly needed a shower, something comfortable to wear and a good feed. Pulling off his clothes, Lukas went into the bedroom.

  An attractive blonde woman was lying naked in his bed. She stretched languorously towards him.

  ‘Hello Lukas, I didn’t make any noise so your friends wouldn’t know I was here. I’ve been waiting ages for you to get rid of them. I’m horny as hell.’

  Lukas was so startled he let out a yelp, then he stared dumbly at her for an eternity with the obvious question on the tip of his tongue.

  Who the hell are you?

  Except he did know who she was—the woman he’d brought home a few nights before.

  Remembering this didn’t help bring her name back.

  ‘Hello, this… is a nice surprise,’ he said lamely, racking his memory.

  ‘Save the formalities for later,’ she said, crooking a finger at him. ‘Come here right now.’

  It was tempting. She was even more gorgeous than Lukas remembered, although admittedly he couldn’t recall much. Like her damned name. Still, Lukas held up a hand. ‘I hate to be a spoil-sport, but I desperately need a shower first.’

  ‘Oh, manly smells, I like them. Don’t bother,’ she said, pouting.

  ‘No, really. We’re talking dead body smells. Sticky, decomposing dead body smells… from a landfill, too.’ Lukas was going to bullshit his way out of this and into the shower no matter what. What concerned him most, including any sticky stuff, was the plenty of evidence from his recent negotiations with Julie. It wasn’t like he was married to this woman or anything, but there was no point in taking unnecessary risks.

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘All right, but don’t be long.’

  ‘And I need a drink of water,’ Lukas pointed towards the kitchen.

  ‘You need my permission?’ she raised her eyebrows, amused.

  ‘No, of course not. You just stay right there, okay?’

  Lukas backed out of the room and, as soon as he was out of sight, began a frantic search of the apartment looking for a handbag, a wallet—a laptop—anything that must be hers and give him a clue for a name. There was nothing.

  ‘Shit,’ he whispered. If it was in the bedroom, could he get her out of there long enough to find something? No, not a chance.

  Putting on his best smile Lukas sidled back into the bedroom and headed for the bathroom. ‘Won’t be a minute.’

  ‘You’d better not be. Don’t keep me waiting too long, Lukas.’

  ‘It’ll be the fastest shower in history, I promise.’

  Lukas almost shouted for joy when he saw a handbag next to the washbasin. He turned on the shower to make some noise, accidentally bumped the door so it half-closed and began scrabbling through the bag contents like a man possessed, worried she might decide to join him in the shower any moment.

  Straight away, he found a small stash of business cards held together with a rubber band.

  Valerie K. Roland, Criminal Defense Lawyer: Roland, Putner and Associates.

  Lukas was stunned. A defense lawyer? A defense lawyer? What was he thinking, for God’s sake?

  He looked in the mirror for an answer and saw Gavin Hucknall standing in the corner.

  The ghost said again, If I had anything I could tell you, I would.

  ‘Yes, I get that,’ Lukas snapped. ‘If you haven’t got anything more constructive to add, you can piss off. I’ve got enough trouble right now.’

  His guest’s voice floated through the door, ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lukas called back. ‘That spider’s back again, that’s all.’ He slapped the wall for effect. ‘Trying to kill the bastard.’

  ‘Spider? What spider?’

  ‘Oh, right—you weren’t here…’

  True to form, Hucknall was gone.

  In the shower Lukas scrubbed furiously at his body hoping the pain might prompt from his brain an explanation about why he’d ever thought sleeping with a criminal defense lawyer was a good idea.

  Alcohol would have had something to do with it. It usually did.

  Clean, dry and thoroughly inspected for incriminating bite marks and scratches, he stepped into the bedroom. ‘I’m back, Valerie. Sorry about that. Had to be done…’

  ‘You know not to call me that,’ she said, frowning.

  Damn it. ‘I do? Sorry, what am I supposed to…’

  ‘Karen, call me Karen. Don’t you remember? In fact, I don’t recall ever telling you my real first name.’

  ‘But… you gave me a business card.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘I’ve still got it somewhere,’ Lukas patted his naked body, realised that was stupid and went for a change of subject. ‘By the way, how did you get in? Did I give you a key?’

&nbs
p; ‘No, you told me where you hide the spare—Lukas, why are you standing in the door like that with no clothes on? And what happened to your pubic hair?’

  ‘I thought you’d like it,’ he said, getting into bed.

  She rolled on top of him. ‘If you were a woman, you’d know it’s a very bad idea unless you’re going to keep it up. The itching will drive you insane. Now, stop fooling around and put in some effort.’

  ‘Make up your mind,’ he said, trying to oblige.

  A few minutes later she asked, scowling, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong—well, I’m absolutely knackered, I’ve got all kinds of shit going through my mind and I’m starving to death, but there’s nothing wrong with… this. With us doing this, I mean.’ Lukas forced a smile.

  Karen sighed. ‘Wait a minute, stay there.’

  She disappeared into the kitchen, made some noise and returned carrying a bowl of ice cream. Pushing him back on the bed, Karen straddled Lukas and started to spoon-feed him. She said, ‘It’s food and a sugar hit at the same time. No excuses after this. What’s on your mind?’

  ‘You don’t really want to know—ouch! Hey!’ Karen had smacked Lukas on the forehead with the spoon.

  ‘That’s not what we agreed, right?’ she said, shoving another spoonful in his mouth. He tried not to choke on the cold. ‘You tell me your shit and I’ll tell you mine, and it never goes any further. Free counseling for each other with fringe benefits. Secret lovers, secret informers and secret therapists all at the same time, remember?’

  It was slowly coming back to Lukas now. A drunken idea that seemed brilliant at the time. It wasn’t too silly now, given some thought. Plus Karen was experimenting with putting dabs of ice cream on her nipples. That offered some advantages.

  Lukas thought it was worth a long-shot. ‘Do you know anything about a guy called Gus Warner? Now known as Harry Upton?’

  Another mouthful of ice cream kept him quiet as she answered in a professional, clipped voice, ‘A petty operator who got caught a few times, did some small jail time and ended up working for Chuckles Monroe doing who-knows-what. Used to be in the army, but got discharged when his eyes got bad.’

  ‘Wow, you’re a mine of useful information.’ Definitely not such a stupid idea. ‘But there are heaps of guys in the army who need glasses. Why’d he get kicked out, I wonder?’

  ‘He was a champion marksman, a sniper I suppose, but really just a competitive shooter who never saw active duty. Whatever, you can’t shoot straight, if you can’t see straight, right? Glasses only do so much.’

  ‘Yes, that helps explain quite a few things.’ Including the hole in the door, the letterbox and the bedroom wall.

  Karen was inspecting what was left in the bowl. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said, turning around and offering him a splendid view.

  At the first touch of the ice cream Lukas swore loudly. Then Karen’s mouth warmed things back up again.

  He groaned, ‘That’s kind of counter-productive in an awesome sort of way.’

  ‘Seems to be working,’ she answered, pleased with herself.

  FOURTEEN

  In the morning, again Karen was gone. This time Lukas knew where—back to her own flat to get ready for work. During the night, their arrangement had been spelled out again. This was a secret affair—or not even an affair so much as a sexual convenience. Out on the streets, particularly near any courtrooms, things had to be strictly professional.

  ‘Can I sleep with other women?’ Lukas asked. The answer didn’t really matter. He was being nice. One bowl of ice cream wasn’t going to turn him into a total monk.

  ‘That’s not the right question.’

  ‘Oh, what is, then?’

  ‘You mean, “Do you ever want to know if I’ve slept with someone else”, okay?’

  ‘Okay, do you—’

  ‘No, are you a complete idiot?’

  ‘All right, are you allowed to sleep with other men?’

  ‘Of course, any time I like. It’s none of your damned business who I screw.’

  Under his breath Lukas said, ‘Only a defense lawyer…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  There wasn’t much Lukas could do about the investigation until he heard back from Frank. Keeping out of the clutches of Max and his assistants was a priority. Lukas found himself watching the phone, waiting for it to ring and give him something to do.

  When it finally burst into the Macarena Song, Lukas snatched it up.

  ‘Lukas Boston.’

  He jerked the phone away from his ear as a voice shrieked out.

  ‘Lukas! I just found this dreadful story on the internet about some professional thieves who kidnap people’s cats and sell them to exotic restaurants. I can’t stand the thought someone may be feasting on my Esther. Oh God, I might have eaten her myself. The Chinese takeaway down the road is owned by the most unscrupulous man I’ve ever met. The way he looks at me, too. I’ve never been—’

  Fortunately she ran out of breath and Lukas managed to dive in.

  ‘Barbara, stop. Can you recall the conversation about only contacting me if it’s urgent?’

  ‘This is urgent, Lukas. How would you feel, if your beloved cat was on a menu somewhere?’

  A good sauce can hide a lot of sins. ‘There are some very strict rules about serving illegal meat in a restaurant, Barbara. You can go to jail. Nothing like this happens in our country.’

  ‘But it’s on the internet, Lukas. Plain as day.’

  ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you see on the web, Barbara. In fact, you shouldn’t believe anything you see—’

  ‘What about those further enquiries you were going to make?’

  It took an effort for Lukas to remember what he might have promised. Damn it, that’s right. ‘No progress, I’m afraid, Barbara. It’s all looking like a dead end.’ And a dead cat.

  ‘Then I think it’s time you came over and personally discussed a new strategy. We need a fresh approach. You could come over tonight.’ This was said as if it was the most inspired idea.

  ‘I don’t think there are any more strategies to try, Barbara.’

  ‘You could bring your girlfriend.’

  ‘My what?’ Lukas was confused. How the hell does she know about Karen? Is she stalking me?

  ‘Your new girlfriend, who you told me about on the phone, Lukas. You know, the one you’ve just met?’ Suspicion dripped out of the phone.

  ‘Oh, right… I forgot that I’d told you. We can’t come around tonight, Barbara.’ Lukas was tempted to say, We’re having crazy sex with ice cream, in the hope that Barbara might be shocked into leaving him alone. But mentioning sex at all struck him as a bad idea.

  Instead Lukas took a deep breath and said firmly, ‘Barbara, I think you might need to accept that Esther is… gone. Gone for good, I mean. Like, no longer with us.’

  He heard a sharp sob, then Barbara cried, ‘I don’t believe you said that.’

  The phone went dead.

  ‘Hell, why didn’t I think of that before?’ Lukas gave the world a thumbs-up.

  The phone started ringing again.

  Lukas sighed and answered it saying, ‘Barbara, there’s nothing I can do for you anymore. You have to accept that Esther is dead.’

  Frank’s voice answered him. ‘I’m guessing that Barbara isn’t exactly Miss America? You’re not offering her your usual hands-on approach.’

  ‘She’s a nutter, Frank. A complete psychopath.’

  ‘One of your standard clients, then?’

  ‘You’re hilarious, Frank. Tell me something interesting, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘Hey, don’t blaspheme, you heathen. I’m a changed man. I’ve been to church.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Last night. It’s never too soon or too late to turn your life around, Lukas. You can follow the light.’

  ‘Frank, you do realize that finding religion isn’t going to improve your gambling results?
Everyone prays their horse will win, Frank. God gets pretty bloody busy at the race track. Everybody’s trying to reach him on the god-phone.’

  There was a silence. Frank said, ‘I thought it might be worth a try for maybe a week. Compare results, you know?’

  ‘Forget it, stick with science and your chaos theory. Have you got anything useful for me from your overnight redemption?’

  He heard Frank drag on a cigarette. ‘I can tell you that the Reverend Harry and his House of Hope attracts every junky, drug addict and small-time pusher for miles around. It’s like a low security, prison exercise yard in there. These people shuffle in full of misery, listen to his stupid sermon, everyone reads from the Bible and they all leave again looking a lot happier. And honestly, I’ve never seen so much cash chucked into the collection plate. Reverend Harry and his fairy helper had to stuff the overflow into their pockets plenty of times. We’re in the wrong business, Lukas. We need to start selling God. It’s damned profitable.’

  ‘You saw all this? And no one worried?’

  ‘As a new boy I had to sit down the back and watch. Blended in, like.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Lukas nodded. ‘You know I’m not a gambling man, Frank. However, I’m willing to bet it’s not God that Harry’s selling. It’s something else. I reckon he’s been shifting Chuckles Monroe’s lost treasure for years—at about two grams a time.’

  *****

  ‘You’re joking,’ Pete Goodall said, watching Lukas from his desk. ‘Are you serious? Have you got anything you back this up?’

  Lukas pulled a face. ‘No hard evidence yet, but I reckon I can get it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought Gus Warner—or bloody Harry Upton, whatever his name is now—had the brains to do something like this.’

  ‘Between him and Grace Chadwick, maybe they worked it out without screwing it up entirely. It looks that way,’ Lukas shrugged.

  Lukas was back in the Detective Division. Goodall was thoughtfully tapping his fingers and asked, ‘So, what do you want to do?’

  ‘For a start, tonight you and I could have a bit of a poke around the church when nobody’s looking. If we find something that confirms the theory, you can call in the Fast Response Team and it’s game over. We all go down the pub for a beer. I can’t call the FRT in, obviously,’ Lukas added. ‘That’s why I need you.’