by Brian Meeks
Richard sat silently on the phone for a moment, hoping Charles would understand his blunder. He didn’t.
Charles, not really wanting to be on the phone and clueless about what Richard's point was, said, “What of it?”
“I was thinking we should get together and have a little talk, someplace private, where nobody is listening.” He let the word listening hang out there for a bit. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear our business, would we?”
Charles liked Richard and had never known him to beat around the bush. He realized there must be a point he was trying to make. Since he didn’t know what it was, he said, rather annoyed, “Spit it out, what do you want to talk about?”
Richard was losing his patience, too. “Are you daft, man?! All I'm asking is if we can get together without announcing it to the bleeding world.”
Now he got it. “Oh, sorry, yes we probably should. How about we meet someplace else?”
“I think that is a great idea. Now that I think about it, O’Mally’s is too crowded. Do you remember that place we went after the first meeting with Daniel?”
“I do.”
“Can you be there in an hour?”
“Yes.”
“I'll call you at the bar if I'm running late.”
* * *
Richard hung up the phone and made a similar call to William. He didn’t get an answer after three tries, so he gave up. It hadn’t been as subtle as he had hoped, but the job was done. Charles would arrive on time as he was always punctual. He could call him at the bar from another public phone and give Charles instructions on where he really wanted to meet without fear of anyone listening. It wasn’t a plan, but it was a start.
* * *
Charles felt a sliver of hope as he hopped in the shower and got ready. He trusted Richard and his ‘chipperness’ spoke volumes.
CHAPTER 56
Richard enjoyed a steak and salad while he sat at the table by the window. The lunch crowd hadn’t started to arrive yet, and the kitchen wasn’t exactly open, but he was well liked there as he was known for being a big tipper. The view across the street to the restaurant was unimpeded. He saw Charles arrive.
The wait staff had set up another table in the back room. When he asked, the waiter brought a phone to the table. He waited a few minutes. Nobody seemed to be watching Charles or following him, so he placed the call.
Charles walked across the street, looking both ways, not for traffic but for the eyes he was sure were watching. Richard got up and greeted him. “Charles, you look, well…not marvelous.”
“All things considered, I’m fair. What did you want to talk about?”
Richard nodded towards the back and Charles followed him. The table had bread and a bottle of wine. After the waiter took Charles’ order, they were alone. Richard asked, “What do you think are the odds of us getting out of this bloody mess?”
“I keep playing it in my mind. I was looking right at Pytor’s face as he killed John. He didn’t blink or jump. I saw men die in the war, but I never saw such soulless killing.” Charles reached for a piece of bread, then pulled his hand back and added, “So, to put it bluntly, I think our odds are slim.”
“These are serious men. We must match them.”
“Match them how?”
“I imagine we all looked pretty shaken Friday when we left with our bags of blood money.”
Charles didn’t say anything.
“They have been thinking about us. The Russian is worrying that any one or perhaps all of us will crack and ruin the whole deal.”
Charles was getting his appetite back and started to butter a roll.
“What do we really know about Kerwin? Before Daniel’s death, all I ever knew was that he was the second in charge. I peg him as being a Russian plant. That leaves Martin. He didn’t leave when we did. Did you see his face?”
“I don’t think I did. Maybe, I don’t remember.”
“He looked, how should I put it…business-like. He is a snake. I would wager he has been privy to who the client is all along.”
“You think Martin is a Russian?”
“No, I think he is without a soul.”
Charles never liked Martin Van Sythe. “So, he is the enemy, too.”
Richard thought, Now he is thinking clearly; we may get out of this yet. “Yes, he is definitely on their side. What about William? Which side do you think he is on?”
“Damn, I don’t know. He looked more scared than all of us. I thought he was going to be sick.”
“I don’t know, either. I tried to call him. Actually, I tried a few times, but no answer. For now, we will just have to think of him as neutral.”
Charles felt like he was back in the army, and Richard was his commanding officer. “So what is the plan?”
“We need to put them at ease. That is the first step.”
“They are Russian spies. How ‘at ease’, do you think they get?”
“That is an excellent point, but I'm merely saying we need to do our level best to show them we have bought in. At the very least, it will give them pause about killing us.”
Charles looked a little deflated, “Give them pause? That is the best you’ve got?”
“Look where we stand. you're a wreck; William has disappeared; and we are about to commit treason. Well, actually you are, as I'm not American, but still I don’t want to help the Russians. The point is, we need to figure out a way to stop them.”
“Just the two of us?”
“I think we are going to need someone outside of the group who they won’t be watching.”
“Who?”
“I think we need to go see Henry Wood.”
“Who?”
“Martin said a detective was looking into Daniel’s death. He told me to be on the lookout for a man named Henry Wood. I looked him up; he is a private dick.”
“Oh, yes, Martin said something about him, but I ignored him. I really don’t like that guy.”
“If this Henry fellow is already investigating Daniel’s death, which I think we may now assume wasn’t a suicide, then he just might be able to help us out.”
Charles leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. “It may not be much of a plan, but it beats the hell out of anything I could’ve come up with.”
The men talked for another hour, mostly just rehashing Friday night and how they had gotten in such a mess. They decided to meet at Henry’s office first thing the next morning.
CHAPTER 57
It was the crack of noon before Henry rolled out of bed. He wouldn’t have, but he heard a knocking at the front door. He threw on his thread bare robe and shuffled to answer it. Luna was standing on the stoop, looking light and airy. His head started to throb. He opened the door and showed her in.
“Good morning, Luna.”
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I tried to call you last night. It looks like you were out having fun without me.”
“It didn’t start out that way.”
“Oh?” She set her purse on the credenza and wandered into the kitchen.
Henry realized she had been to church. He wasn’t sure, but he might have promised her he would go with her and her father. Was that this week? “I had a strange day yesterday and met Francis and Mike at the Rogue. Oh, and I invited Bobby along. That might have been my big mistake.”
Luna put the coffee on as Henry slumped into a chair. “A mistake? Bobby is a wonderful guy. How could it be a mistake?”
“It turns out he is part-Irish.”
“Really? What part?”
“The drinking part.”
Luna giggled, and Henry winced. “It sounds like fun. I guess you didn’t want any girls along to get in the way of your good times.”
“No, it wasn’t that. I wanted to talk about the case, to find out if Mike had anything new, and to get Francis’ perspective since he didn’t know anything about it. One of the guys who knew Kupton showed up yesterday and asked for my help…sort of.”
/> Luna started to make some pancakes. Henry still wasn’t comfortable being doted upon, but he had had them before and knew better than to object.
“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” Luna asked.
Henry told her about how William had shown up terrified and how he didn’t show for the meeting. He handed her the note as she handed him some pancakes. “Thanks. These are even better than last time. Where did you find blueberries?”
“I brought them last time, in case I was here in the morning.” She gave him a sly look. She had stayed over a few times, but, more often than not, he took her home. Luna was very easy-going and seemed to be enjoying their relationship as it was though now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he wasn’t as good a detective as he had thought.
“What do you think of the note?”
Henry asked her what she thought. He valued her opinion, and he could tell it made her feel good when he asked.
She read it again. “I would say he has a good education but was terribly frightened and in a hurry.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He started off with your name and the first few words he used excellent penmanship. Then it got sloppy, though he still spelled everything correctly. The last part looks like it was written in a real hurry.”
Henry reached for the letter and read it again. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about how it looked, just what it said.”
Luna was glowing. Henry stuffed a huge bite of pancake in his mouth and mumbled, “Be right back.”
He returned a few minutes later. He had put on a shirt and pants and ran his head under the bathroom faucet.
Luna was sitting and nibbling on Henry’s pancakes when he sat down. He took his notebook out and wrote down what she had said, stopping when Luna had a fork full of pancake hovering near his mouth. He ate it and continued. Henry wrote down some notes from the night before while gobbling the proffered bits of goodness. While he made his notes, his mind made its own: Being around Luna was comfortable.
When he had finished, he regaled her with stories of how Bobby had put on a herculean drinking display, which Mike and Francis mistakenly got sucked into. In the end, all four of them had gotten drunk, and a half dozen other people had gotten sucked into his vortex of Irish drinking songs.
Henry was starting to feel a little less like death. Luna got out the player, and they listened to more of the music from the future. With everything that had happened this year, his closet with the time portal seemed strangely normal. He still hadn’t been able to figure out the point of the Billy Joel music. Luna liked the songs and was choosing different ones at random. She hit play on “Only The Good Die Young” and was tapping her foot when Henry got a look on his face. He opened his notebook and wrote one word. Cynthia.
Luna saw it and became quiet. Henry was staring off into space, and she suddenly seemed very upset. “I have to go. I really need to get home.”
“What? Why? I thought we would try to figure out this music?” Henry said with a baffled look on his face. This only made her sorer at him. “Henry Wood, you just don’t know anything, do you?”
Henry knew one thing; it was best not to answer that question lest he make it worse. Like that, she left, and he sat in the kitchen alone. There was still some coffee left, so he drank a cup and tried to figure out women. It was a hopeless cause, and he wasn’t getting paid to solve that one, so he went back to bed.
CHAPTER 58
Henry had spent most of the evening listening to one song. He couldn't understand why, but 'The Stranger' seemed to ring most true. His business was all about strangers, but the meeting with William and the earlier CIA run-in had been stranger than normal.
The drive into Manhattan was uneventful. Henry couldn't see anyone tailing him. It became apparent that looking for a stranger among millions of them was a Sisyphean task. He decided to limit his search to those who might have been noticed by his immediate circle of friends
As he walked into the Flatiron building, he read over the names of those he wanted to call. There was William's office; he wanted to know if the man had shown up for work. It seemed unlikely, but one should never assume. Sir Richard Bessemer was next, followed by Charles Hudson. He also thought it might be good to try Martin Van Sythe and see if he got rattled by the mention of the others.
Two men stood by his door. They seemed rather stiff, and one was wearing a bowler hat. They both looked at Henry as he walked down the hall, obviously hopeful that he was the detective on the door. When he passed the last office before his, he noticed the hand-written sign, ‘Be Right Back.’
“Hello, gentlemen, sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Bowler hat replied, “Not at all, sir, we have been here but a few minutes, and I would say you met the expectations of your sign.”
Henry smiled and shook both their hands. He got out his keys and, at their jingle, a meow from inside called back. Henry opened the door and found Buttons sitting in Celine's chair, upright, manning the desk.
“Please come on back, gentlemen. This is my assistant, Buttons...”
Buttons protested loudly, “Meow.”
“Sorry, this is the boss, Buttons, filling in for my assistant Celine.”
Bowler hat gave Buttons a nod; the other man did not.
Henry noticed that there wasn't any coffee and deduced that Celine had run out to buy some. “Please have a seat.”
They introduced themselves, then Richard got right to the point. “Mr. Wood, we understand you have been investigating the death of our friend Daniel Kupton.”
“I’m not at liberty to talk about my clients’ business.”
“That is fine; I really don't care, but we need your help and it's related to the case you may or may not be working on.”
“Related how?”
Celine came through the door with a grocery bag. “I’m sorry; we were out of coffee. I’ll put some right on.” She smiled at both men but looked at Richard as she asked, “Would you prefer tea?”
“I would. How did you know?”
She smiled, winked and said, “Detective in training.”
Charles, getting impatient, interrupted. “Mr. Wood, we got into business with Daniel. He needed cash and we were in a position to help.”
“But you were being benevolent, were you?” Henry shot back, not quite liking the edge to Charles’ voice.
“No, Mr. Wood, it was an investment, pure and simple.”
“Go on.”
“He had a plan, maybe a bit sketchy, but the profit potential made it worth a little risk.”
Henry may not have liked his tone, but he liked his straight-forwardness. “Sketchy how?”
“He was bidding for a Navy contract; it was very lucrative.”
“That seems legit.”
“Oh, that part was, but he had another customer who would pay handsomely for the parts, too. He planned to sell an equal amount to this other client for much more than even the price the Navy was paying.”
“I imagine the Navy wouldn't approve of such a sale?”
Charles looked at Richard who jumped in and said, “No, your American Navy would not approve, which is why the client would have to pay so much more.”
“I’m not seeing the problem. What do I care if you guys are doing a little back room dealing?”
They both looked at each other, the weight of what they were about to say crushing them. Charles started, but stopped and looked to Richard.
Richard continued, “Friday night we found out that the client was, is...”
Henry sat still as Buttons hopped up on the desk and sat down, looking intently at Richard, almost sizing him up.
“...it's the Russians.”
“Are you saying Kupton set up a side deal with the Russians?”
Richard answered cautiously, “I don't know if he knew or if it was Kerwin who made the contact, but if he did know and tried to back out, well, it might be why he was killed.”
Buttons leapt down from the desk.
/>
Henry asked, “Who killed him?”
“We don't know, but suicide seems unlikely, considering how well things had been going. If he were the swan dive type, he would have done it when his company was on the brink, not when they were making a heroic comeback.”
Henry couldn't fault that logic. “So, do you have any guesses who might have tossed him out of the Woolworth building?”
Buttons said, “Meooow,” and started pawing at the wall in the corner. Henry looked at Buttons but, before he could scold the cat, noticed the wires. He flashed a look at both men and raised his finger to his mouth. “Celine, how is the coffee coming?”
Celine came in, “Is the cat bothering you? I'm sorry.”
Henry was kneeling next to Buttons, gently pulling the wire from the wall. It was a bug. His office was bugged! He wanted to lose his temper, but his reasoning wouldn't let him. He quickly replayed everything they had just discussed in his mind. “Gentlemen, this is very interesting, but I'm not sure I can help you.” He wrote on a piece of paper, “Wait in the hall.”
Both men looked shaken. They knew better than to keep talking and nodded. Richard replied, “I understand, thanks for your time. We will be leaving then.”
“I'll show you out.”
Celine was confused. Buttons was back on the desk and purring, obviously pleased with himself.
Henry and the two men went into the hall. He whispered, “I have to apologize. I just had the office swept less than a week ago. Let's go to Bobby's office for a moment, then we can move this meeting somewhere public and continue.”
“I'm not sure we want to hire a detective who lets his office get bugged. Charles said,” disgusted.
“That is your right, but I feel the least I can do is let you know what happened with your friend William.”
This hit home, and they followed Henry down to Bobby's door. Before he could knock, Bobby opened the door. “Hey, Henry, who are your friends?”