Easy Money

by Rik Hunik

  She was a three-masted cargo ship that had seen better times, but even though she looked pretty rough she was still seaworthy. My escort, a harried woman in her thirties who had to lock up the office to give me the tour, must have thought I was deaf or mentally deficient because I was focusing more on my mother's necklace than on what she was saying, but I didn't care what she said or thought.

  When we passed a carved, paneled door she said, "This is the captain's cabin, but you never get to go in there."

  I just nodded and smiled even though I sensed the necklace was right there on the other side of the wall. I could afford to pay a bit more attention during the rest of the tour but there was really nothing more I needed to know. The necklace was inaccessible to me now but I had a few days to figure out a way to get it back.

  # # #

  I stopped in at Caracalla's Baths on my way home. This had already been the busiest day of my career and it wasn't over yet. Talking to a woman as pretty as Zena didn't sound like work to me, and it didn't have to be all work, so showing up fresh and clean at her place seemed like a good idea.

  Caracalla's Baths isn't as large or fancy as bathhouses in the other quadrants; there are no elaborate gardens surrounding the property, no sandy paths lined with statuary by famous artists, and no famous orators or warriors or poets lounging about, just plenty of white marble on the walls and floors, and lots of water, with hot, warm and cold pools. There may be cheaper places to go for a bath but Caracalla keeps his place clean and that counts for a lot.

  The present Caracalla was the third generation with the same name running the place. Nobody remembered what it had been called before. He was a quiet man, getting a bit fatter every year, never moving fast, but always busy. He never seemed to be watching but he never missed anything. Stuck in the heart of Old City there was a lot of riffraff around but payment was up front and Caracalla always had muscles on staff to maintain order.

  I was plenty grimy from my travels and I had no time for working out in the gym, or lingering to soak and socialize, but I didn't run into anybody I knew so no one hassled me about hurrying. Another thing I dislike about the upscale baths in other quadrants are the annoying trainers always getting in your face trying to help you lose weight or build up a muscle group.

  On the way out I paused to scan the news bulletins. New stories are posted every day and usually left up for a week but I only had to check the last couple of days because I like to keep up to date. An old man, tall and thin, with a long gray beard, was reading an article to a group of men. I saw him frequently, trying to earn a few coins by reading news stories for those who couldn't read for themselves, a group that woefully still included nearly half the population, with a higher proportion among the poor who inhabited Old City.

  The old man read too slowly for my taste but his rich, mellow voice drew me in so I found myself listening to him, rather than squeezing in beside him and reading for myself.

  The story started out by reporting the murder of a young woman in Old City. Nothing unusual about that, I thought, which is just what the writer wanted us to think, but the next part of the story reviewed some similar murders in recent months. That's where the reader cut off because his listeners were losing interest, but I was interested so I pushed my way closer and finished reading the story myself.

  The story listed several other murders, then drew the conclusion that there were more murders this year than at the same time last year, too many more, and a disproportionate amount of them were women. Add in the number of young women who had simply disappeared and we had, according to the writer, a serious epidemic on our hands, even though officials refused to acknowledge that there was a problem, and police said it was business as usual, with every case being investigated. Even allowing for the melodramatic tone of the article it sounded to me like there really was something wrong in our fair city, and I couldn't help but wonder if the women I was searching for were somehow connected.

  Chapter 8

  That evening, gazing across the candle lit dinner table into Zena's brilliant, blue eyes, I had to remind myself that, now that dinner was eaten, I was here on business. Instead of complimenting her on her eyes I said, "You worked for Aldwin for a long time. Did you like him?"

  Her smile made her eyes sparkle. "Oh, yes, he was a wonderful man. His concept of interchangeable parts put together on an assembly line enabled him to build furniture several times faster than his competitors, but even though he was rich he shared his wealth, treating all his employees well and paying us top wages."

  "Not like Cal."

  She shook her head so her hair went flying. "Not at all. Cal increased the workload and decreased the payroll, leaving fewer people to do more work, and now, instead of giving us a raise, he's talking about cutting our pay. If he does that I am out of there."

  I thought about the woman waiting for me outside my office this afternoon, and despite my flippant attitude at the time I knew it would happen again, and it would lose me some clients. I thought about someone who knew what they were doing handling my paperwork and accounts, and I thought about the wad of money in my pocket, and I said, "If you ever do that, and you need a job, why don't you come and work for me?"

  She looked me in the eye, saw that I was serious and cut her laugh short, but she kept smiling as she said, "I'll consider it."

  Back to the case. "What do you think of Aldwin's disappearance?"

  Zena leaned forward and her dark hair swung down beside her face as though to veil her secret. "I think he planned it a long time ago."

  That was more or less what the cops suspected. I shifted my chair closer and leaned toward her. "What makes you think that?"

  Her eyes gleamed with excitement and she lowered her voice. "I did some snooping in files I wasn't supposed to see. More than two years ago Aldwin began making regular, large payments to The Good Fortune Company, a company we had never dealt with at all before, and I couldn't find any indication of what kind of product or service they offered, so I have no idea what Aldwin was paying for. I found their office downtown but there was never anyone there when I checked."

  I sat back and smiled in admiration while I considered what she'd said. "Blackmail, perhaps? Did Aldwin have any enemies, or ugly secrets in his past?"

  She sipped her wine before replying. "None that I know of, but he didn't seem the type to have ugly secrets."

  "That could just mean he hid them well."

  "Perhaps you're right, but I don't think so, and if he had any enemies, other than a few jealous business rivals, I never saw any sign of them in the two years I've been working there. I figured he was diverting some of the company cash flow for personal reasons, but he owned the company so it was his own money. It wasn't hurting the company and there was nothing illegal about it, just highly irregular."

  I frowned. "Wouldn't Cal have noticed something like that?"

  "I'm sure he would have, which makes me suspect he was in on it with Aldwin right from the start. He's wanted the furniture company for years and now he has it."

  "No wonder he didn't want me sniffing around about his father's disappearance." I sat back in my chair. "Do you have an address for the Good Fortune Company?" I figured it was important but I didn't know how it fit, or if I would find anything useful there. The trail to Aldwin Nahasa kept getting longer.

  Zena dug into her leather handbag and passed me a piece of paper with the name and address already written on it.

  "Thanks," I said as I tucked it into a pocket. "You've been extremely helpful. In fact, I feel like I should pay you for helping so much."

  "Oh, you don't have to do that." She patted me on the arm. "It was fun."

  "The client covers all expenses, including paid informants, whether they had fun or not."

  "I just couldn't."

  "You don't need any extra money?"

  "It seems so low, so sleazy."

  I shrugged, and dropped the matter. "If you remember anything else that you think might be
remotely useful, please contact me."

  "Be sure that I will." She smiled at me across the table. "But you'll have to tell me everything when you find out what happened to Aldwin."

  I smiled back, a little bit dazed by her smile. "Yes, of course I will." I turned my attention to the wine and conversation lapsed for a while, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her face for very long.

  She gazed frankly back at me. After a while she said, "How did you ever get into the business of finding things? I've never heard of such a service before."

  "Any wizard could do it with some degree of success, but they're all employed by the government doing more important jobs, so the service isn't available to the general public, but it's my strongest talent and I thought it should be available."

  "How altruistic of you."

  I smiled and shook my head. "Not entirely. When I was a child my father used to joke that, with my knack for finding lost things, when I grew up I could earn a living doing it for people. ‘Easy Money,' he called it. Even though he died before I was old enough to enroll he made sure I had enough money put away to get me through the first two years at the Roman Institute Of Magic. When I didn't make the grade to become a wizard I signed up for a stint in the army."

  Her eyebrows rose. "The army? Didn't you get a license to practice magic?"

  "Oh, sure I did, but the city doesn't need another failed wizard setting up shop and struggling to earn a living by telling fortunes and selling marginally effective charms and potions. Joining the army may not have been the best thing for me, because it's hard for me to follow orders, but it made me strong, and taught me how to fight, but mostly it gave me time to think.

  "That's when I started earning a bit of extra cash by finding things my squad mates lost or misplaced. My reputation grew and pretty soon I was finding things for the whole camp. The officers sometimes made use of my talent but they didn't pay me any extra and I hated being used like a tool, so sometimes my talent didn't work as well as it could. When I got out of the army I decided I wanted to be my own boss so I opened my agency."

  "How are you doing at it?"

  I shrugged. "It's too soon to tell for sure but it seems pretty good so far. I just started at the beginning of the month and I've made expenses, kept myself fed and entertained, and I already have enough money for next month's rent. I'm not even close to solving this case yet but Carina is willing to pay me as long as it takes, which is good because the trail is cold and it looks pretty long from here and my talent isn't really helping much." I swirled some wine around in my glass.

  "So what made you decide to look for people too? Did you need more business?"

  "I don't know about that. I told my mother I wanted more excitement in my life, more challenges."

  She studied my face for several seconds. I didn't meet her eyes. She said, "That's not the real reason is it?"

  I started to say it was, but when I looked at her, saw her interest and concern, I felt a connection and I found myself opening up to her and telling her the truth. "No, it's not."

  She waited patiently while I poured more wine into my glass and took a drink.

  "It's not something I planned, or even thought about before it happened. I had just finished with a client in the Southwest Quadrant and I was preparing to leave when his daughter came in, clearly distraught. She couldn't find her five-year-old daughter anywhere on the property. I explained that I had never found a person before, but he hired me on the spot at double my rate just to try. My talent worked and a few minutes later we found the little girl in the well, chilled to the bone but still hanging onto the bucket. He paid me even more than he said he would, but the real bonus was the joy I witnessed when the mother and daughter were reunited, and the gratitude she expressed to me. That's a warm feeling I don't get when I find an object, no matter how valuable it is." I fell silent.

  The silence stretched, but not so long it got uncomfortable. She reached across the table and laid her hand briefly on mine.

  "And what about you?" I asked.

  She smiled shyly. "There's not much to tell. I grew up right here in Agrippina, I studied business and accounting in school, and when I finished I landed the job I have now, which I enjoyed until Cal took over. He keeps making passes at me, even though I've made it clear over and over that I have no interest in him. It's kind of creepy."

  "I could beat him up for you." My tone was light but a part of me really wanted to do it.

  She laughed and shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, but no. It's tempting but I don't think that's the best thing to do. Not yet, anyway."

  We both laughed and her eyes sparkled.

  "Another bottle of wine?"

  Zena shook her head. "I think I'm done here. Let's go somewhere else, somewhere we can dance. We can order more wine there."

  "Hey, great idea."

  I took her to the night club where Belita had become separated from her friends. It's been called the Coconut Club for a couple of years now, to stay in tune with the loud drums and pulsing rhythms of the African music that is so popular with the younger crowd these days. My mother calls it barbaric. While I don't totally disagree with her assessment, I still enjoy it a lot. Being barbaric can be fun; it stirs the blood, stimulates the mind.

  Dinner had been at Carina's expense, under the category of paying an informant, but I paid for our wine and dancing because I wasn't working anymore. We danced for hours, with Zena drinking most of the wine, but we both had loads of fun. About ten o'clock she called it off for the night because she had to be at work in the morning. I didn't argue because I had work yet to do tonight.

  Chapter 9

  When we emerged from the heated atmosphere inside the club, the cold, damp night air made me shiver despite my coat and Zena pressed closer to me. I flagged a cab, one of the newfangled, one-horse kind that looks like a covered chariot, with the driver's seat mounted up high on the back. Zena's face was still flushed from dancing as she climbed into the cab. I leaned in and her lips met mine. It was a quick kiss, but it was very sweet, and I promised to call her soon.

  I closed the door, the cabby took up the reins and set the horse in motion. I watched until the cab was out of sight, then went back into the club.

  I had checked out the bartenders earlier and now I ordered a beer from the thin blond guy who seemed friendly and especially alert. When he served my beer I said, "I'm trying to find a young woman who was in here last night." While he took my money and made change I took a long drink of beer. Wine is fine but I have a preference for beer, a taste I got from my Viking father.

  He handed me my change. "Hundreds of people come in here every night. How do you expect me to remember every one of them?"

  I was on a limited expense account with this case so I slipped out a five and laid it on the bar but kept my hand on it.

  He knew the game. He leaned on the bar and his eyes flicked down to the money but he didn't reach for it. "So who are you looking for?"

  I described Belita and her two friends and gave their names.

  "Yeah, I saw them last night. They come in here once or twice a week. Nice girls."

  "Did you notice anything unusual happen to them last night?" I took my hand off the five.

  He shook his head.

  "Who did she leave with?"

  "Hey, now that you mention it, that is strange." He made the fiver disappear and leaned closer. "She left with a guy dressed all in black. I noticed him when he came in because his clothes looked brand new. He sat alone at a table, but he seemed friendly. He talked to several women and danced with a few, but now that you made me think about him, I think he was watching your girl from the time he came in, without being obvious about it."

  "So how could you tell?"

  He smiled at me like I had missed something obvious, and now I saw a depth in his eyes that made him look several years older than I had originally assumed. "I've been watching people in here every night for years and I know most of the types that come
in. He tried to blend in but he didn't quite fit."

  "What do you mean?" Something distinctive would make him easier to find.

  His face squinted as he tried to put his concept into words. "It was like he was too old, but he didn't look that old, and even when he was smiling he looked like he wasn't really having fun. When her friends got up to dance with a couple of guys he went right over and sat with her. A few minutes later they left together."

  "That fast? Was he forcing her?"

  He thought for a second, then shook his head. "No, he was holding her by the hand and she was going along real quiet, just like dozens of couples do every night. Did something happen to her? He might have slipped something into her drink. That happens a lot."

  I could think of a few drugs that might make her docile, but not so quickly, unless there was magic involved. This wasn't looking good for Belita. "Did you ever see him before?"

  "Yeah, I saw him once before, night before last. He kept to himself and only stayed for one drink."

  "You're sure it was him?"

  "Positive. I have a good memory for faces and I served his drink myself."

  "So what did he look like?"

  "Black hair, two or three inches taller than her, thin, with a narrow face, but his lips looked like he was getting ready to kiss something. He was a good-looking guy and the women all seemed to notice him, but his eyes were hard."

  "Did you notice if he wore any jewelry, or anything distinctive?"

  He shook his head.

  "Did you see which way they went?"

  "You sure want a lot for a fiver."

  I gave a slight shrug. "Sorry, this is a low budget investigation. Her mother isn't rich but she's very worried."

  He sighed, glanced up and down the bar, then continued. "I'm not sure, but it looked to me like they turned to the right as they went out. That's all I could see from here."

  It was time to let him get back to work. "Thanks, you've been a big help. When I get rich I'll come back and buy you a drink." He just smiled and went to serve another customer. I wouldn't have believed me either.