Double Trouble (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 10) (17 page)

They parked about three spaces away from Royal’s car and as they walked past, Tony made a comment. They both looked at the Mercedes, Ashley nodded and said something back that got both of them laughing.

She was wearing a short black skirt that barely covered her rear, a silky black blouse, some sort of wide sequined belt with a sparkly buckle, a string of pearls and black knee-high boots with stiletto heels. If there was a board meeting, she was going to be the best dressed person in attendance.

Tony looked his usual idiot self in jeans and an olive drab T-shirt with some sort of image on it. I was pleased to see his left arm was still in a sling. I was pretty sure I knew the drill, Ashley would head to the elevators and Tony would head for the bar. I waited another five minutes just to be sure then went out to take a couple of pictures of Tony’s car.

Given the close proximity, I was able to photograph both vehicles with the second vehicle appearing in the distance. Would these stand up in court? Probably not, but it was a start.

After forty minutes, I ventured into the lobby. The bar and restaurant entrance was just past the main desk. I peeked in and caught a glimpse of Tony sitting alone at the bar. Most bars offer pull tabs, a state sponsored gambling option. For a couple of bucks you buy a card and pull off the tabs to see what, if anything, you’ve won. Tony appeared to be in the process of filling a plastic cheeseburger basket with losing pull tab cards and drinking a beer. I figured he already had to be down by at least fifty bucks.

I walked up to the front desk. A young woman with a blue polyester blazer and a wide smile said, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

“I’m supposed to meet a friend, Royal Baker, I believe he checked in this afternoon. If you could give me his room number, please.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you his room number, but I can give you his phone extension and you can reach him on our house phone right over there,” she said and pointed to the phone on a table between two comfortable looking wing back chairs. “Let me just get that extension for you. You said the name was Baker?”

“Yes, Royal Baker.”

“Oh yes, here it is,” she said then wrote a four-digit extension number on a business card and slid it across the counter to me.

“Thank you,” I said then walked over and took a seat next to the phone. Unfortunately the extension was 1015 and there were only eight floors in the hotel. I’d hoped the extension could have translated to a room number, but no such luck.

Still, I did have the phone extension written on a hotel business card and it might help if it could be married up with a credit card receipt. I pretended to talk on the phone for a moment and then when the girl at the front desk turned around I made my way out the door and back to my car.

Tony and Ashley were the first to leave a couple of hours later. Ashley looked more than a little disheveled and maybe high. Tony looked unhappy and although I couldn’t hear him I could sense by the body language he wasn’t pleased.

Ashley stopped at the rear of the car to make some remark as Tony was about to get behind the wheel. I took a couple of shots of them just as Tony stormed toward her. Ashley took a step or two back just as he grabbed her by the arm then marched her to the passenger door, half threw her into the seat and slammed the door.

He chirped the tires backing out of his parking place, picked up speed through the parking lot, then screeched pulling onto the road as he accelerated out of sight.

Royal exited maybe a half hour later. He looked nicely groomed, like maybe he’d taken a shower and gotten cleaned up. There seemed to be the slightest spring in his step and he was whistling. I took a couple of shots from the front seat of my car then waited until he exited the parking lot before I phoned the hotel.

“East View Lodging, how may I direct your call?”

“Yes, would you connect me with Mr. Royal Baker, please?”

“Sure, one moment please. Oh, I’m sorry sir, it looks as if Mr. Baker recently checked out.”

“Checked out?”

“Yes sir, I’m afraid so.”

“All right, thank you very much.”

So much for Royal’s board meeting.

Chapter Forty-One

I went online first
thing the following morning. There was an email message waiting for me regarding the coffin, it simply read “We have a better offer.” I sent a response back that said “I’ll pay you $100 more.” I forwarded both emails to Andy then called him.

“Hi, Dev. I’ve got both of those up now, they just came through.”

“I’d be surprised if they had another response, even at the give-away price I offered, that’s still a grand and then what would the market even be for a coffin on craigslist.”

“What if they come back and tell you someone offered four or five grand?”

“I’m sure they’re going to come back and tell us someone offered more, they may not even mention a figure. I’ll tell them I can have guaranteed funds, a cashier’s check, or even cash and I’ll pay five hundred more than whatever offer they have, something like that. In fact, I may just wait a few hours, send another reply sounding like the anxious customer and say I need it due to a death in the family and I’ll pay five hundred more and I’d like to pick it up tonight or tomorrow.”

“Think they’ll go for it?”

“I think it’s probably the only offer they have. I know someone I can call who’ll go with me. I’ll send him in, we’ll contact whoever the local authorities are and nail this guy.”

“Good.”

“The more I think about it, Andy, the more I’m willing to bet we’re going to find the other two coffins with this individual.”

“God, if only it would be that easy. Keep me posted.”

“My pal Tommy Flaherty still out?”

“Yeah, had a phone message waiting for me when I came in this morning. Must be one hell of a flu bug, poor guy.”

“Yeah, must be. I’ll keep you posted,” I said then hung up and put a call into Gemma Baker.

“Gemma, its Dev Haskell.”

“I was hoping you’d call, how did things go last night?”

“That depends on your point of view.”

“In other words it’s all true, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, that would seem to be the case.” I related what I knew, how Royal had a room, Ashley and Tony arrived a good half hour after Royal, Tony waited in the bar, they left some hours later and then Royal left about a half hour after that.

“I called the hotel as he was driving away, asked to be put through to his room and they told me that he had just checked out.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone before Gemma cleared her throat then said, “Well, I guess that’s the sort of proof we needed.”

“Not exactly.”

“How so?”

“Well, I have shots of them leaving, although they’re from pretty far off. I have shots from the parking lot with both their cars in the same image, but so what? They could just say they were both there for a beer and a meeting. Plus, with Ashley’s guy Tony there, his presence actually adds some credibility to that sort of denial.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Just that we stay vigilant, let me know when another one of Royal’s working late calls comes through and I’ll see if we can’t get a little more creative.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so, we’re really dependent on their schedule at this point. I can tell you this, my experience is that quite often with a series of these images the contest never actually makes it into court. The evidence you’ll have becomes so overwhelming in Royal’s eyes that he’ll agree to whatever settlement you demand.”

“That doesn’t sound like Royal.”

“Guilt can be a pretty persuasive argument.”

“That really doesn’t sound like Royal.”

Chapter Forty-Two

My email response on
the craigslist ad came through in the early afternoon. “We have an individual ready to purchase, but you sound so nice. What offer can you make?”

I forwarded the response to Andy then called him.

“God, they sure sound like they’re working you. What a bunch of jerks, if you were legit, trying to get a coffin for a loved one, this is what they do? Make you twist in the wind for a couple more bucks? If I didn’t want to nail this idiot before, I sure as hell do now.”

“I’m going to call my pal, see if he can join me and we’ll get this thing shut down tonight or tomorrow. I’ll offer to pay five hundred more, cash and tell them I need to know today.”

“We’re available to verify the item once you get it. I’ve got a file right here on my desk from the shop that built it, invoices, specifications, the family crest design, photos of the finished piece, everything. The way they’re operating, I’d say there’s a good chance it hasn’t even crossed their mind to remove our barcode. Keep me posted, Dev.”

I hung up with Andy and placed a call to Luscious Dixon. Luscious had been a defensive end on three different NFL teams, all during the same preseason. He never played as much as a minute in any game which seemed in itself to be an NFL record of sorts. He had a number of issues, apparently one of them being anger management, which helped to explain the felony convictions and his habit of quickly becoming a marketing liability to whatever team he signed with. If I remembered correctly, I think his record was seventy-two hours with the San Francisco 49ers. Ultimately, it was decided Luscious drew the sort of attention the entire league was better off without. The anger issues, felony convictions and the bad-boy profile made obtaining regular work somewhat difficult in the new caring and more sensitive NFL. He answered my call after a half-dozen rings.

“Mmm-mmm,” he sort of grunted.

“Luscious, it’s Dev Haskell.”

“Dev, what sort of trouble are you in now?”

“Actually none, surprisingly. Hey, I’m working a case and I was thinking you might be the perfect guy to help me out, you busy?”

“Never too busy for you, Dev. What you got?”

I gave Luscious a brief description of the situation. Then I said, “So basically, all I’m looking for is someone to drive a rented pickup truck and show up with the payment. I’ll be right behind you, somewhere, probably have a cop there, too and we’ll just nail this bad actor. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes once we get to wherever we pick the thing up.”

“You know you can count on me, Dev. When you thinking all of this is going down?”

“I’m dealing with this nitwit on email. I’m going to try and set it up for sometime tomorrow. That work for you?”

“I’ll make it work.”

“Perfect, I knew I could count on you, Luscious.”

“You just let me know where, Dev, and I’m there.”

I got back online and sent my response. “Willing to pay $500 over your best offer, but need to send my son tomorrow to pick it up. I can pay cash. Please forward details.”

My response came through about five minutes later. “Have an offer for $3000. If you can go to $3500 we have a deal. Will forward directions once we hear from you.”

I waited a half hour then responded. “God bless you, this is just wonderful. My son will have the cash payment, $3500. Must have this to the mortuary by end of day tomorrow. You are in my prayers, Lucille.”

I got an almost immediate response. “Sold. Glad to be of service. Lucille, my mother would be so happy. Our home is difficult to find, your son can meet me at the Denny’s restaurant on I-94 and Manning drive at 10:00am. Let me know if this is a problem.”

I forwarded the emails to Andy again and called him.

“God, the guy almost sounds legit,” Andy said.

“Yeah, well except for the line about his mother, and then there’s the line about the home being difficult to find. I’m guessing there’ll be at least two people checking my guy out. I know this place, the Denny’s, not a lot of places to hide and cool your heels out that way.”

“Anything I can do to help you?” Andy asked.

“Only by staying away. Whoever this is, there’s at least a fifty-fifty shot they’d recognize you or one of your employees. They had to be familiar enough with your operation to get this out of there in the first place. By the way, anything else missing?”

“No, not a thing. Sort of strange, these three things and then nothing else.”

“In other words, the moment you learned things were missing you tightened security and probably shut down whatever they had set up, whether you knew it or not.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I didn’t mention the fact that Tommy Flaherty hadn’t shown up almost since the day this caper was discovered. Now, more than ever, I felt like I owed it to Andy to nail whoever was behind this and I had a pretty good idea who that was.

Chapter Forty-Three

I phoned Luscious and
told him we were on for seven tomorrow morning.

“You gotta be kidding me, in the morning?”

“Yeah, Luscious, amazingly there’s a seven in the morning, too.”