Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius (3 page)

“No sir.” (Gahhhh!!!) “The card was declined when your money ran out.”

No shit!

“Well,” I said, “the charges are still pending, right? Can you just cancel them?”

“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir. What you need to do is wait for the charges to clear then come into a branch and file a fraud complaint.”

“Are you serious? I have to sit here and wait,” Elise walked back in holding her coffee and a sugar free Rockstar for me. I reached out and did the gimme-gimme signal with my hand. She passed it to me and I mouthed I LOVE YOU to her. She responded with I KNOW then turned and went back out to her desk.

“Sir?” the woman on the line had noticed my sudden silence.

I continued, “I have to sit here and wait for my money to be stolen before I can do anything about it? Just cancel the goddamn transactions!”

“Sir, there is no need to use foul language towards me, I am only explain-‘

“You’re explaining to me that I have ninety-six cents in my account and all my money is stolen and I’m supposed to sit back and wait for these assholes to finish the theft.”

“That’s just the way it works. Feel free to walk into a branch once the charges clear and see what they can do for you. We are done here. Thank you for calling.”

She hung up.

AHHH!!!

3.

I slammed my phone down in exasperation then took a few deep breaths to calm myself before going out and talking with Elise. It didn’t really seem to work, so I dropped the idea all together and exited the office anyway.

“You will not believe this, E.” I said.

“Oh god,” she responded, “what’s wrong?”

“Well, someone had themselves a fun-filled weekend in Las Vegas, on my dime.”

“Oh dear.”

“And here’s the best part! The charges are all still pending. Technically the money is still in my account but my fabulous bank just told me I have to wait for the charges to clear before I can do anything about it!”

“What? That’s so stupid! So you have to wait and watch your money get stolen before they’ll do anything about it?”

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I said! So stupid! I swear to god I am switching banks! Up yours, Kern Educators Credit Union! You suck!”

“So what are you going to do? How much money do you have left?”

“Yeah, um, I have ninety-six cents.”

“You owe me three bucks for that Rockstar.”

“What a jerk.”

***

I tried to push my anger and aggravation aside. The fact was we had good news for a client and that always improved whatever mood I happened to be in. I called the parents of the beaten up sack-of-ass and told them we had proof of London’s access to funds and pictures of him purchasing alcohol and consuming it. The family was very pleased. They agreed to be at my office within an hour for final payment and to collect the pictures to be taken to the judge. Promptly, I assumed.

I removed the memory card from my camera and inserted it into my printer. When the photos were ready I put them in an envelope and set them on my desk, ready for pickup. I polished off the rest of my drink then lounged back into my chair, allowing my brain to wander to a daydream of me finding the asshole that ripped me off. Apparently, in this daydream I had mad fighting skills and wore tuxedos. I heard the phone ring vaguely but I ignored it. I assumed Elise picked it up and I continued beating the living crap out of some douche in a fancy Las Vegas casino.

After replaying the beating several times in my head, each one with the most minor of differences, Elise barged in and broke my reverie.

“I know what will cheer you up!” she said, excitedly.

“Twenty three thousand, nine-hundred ninety-nine dollars and four cents?”

“Close! A new case!”

“Okay, that’s good I guess. Am I missing something…?” I ask.

“Yep! It involves a dead body…”

“Okay…?”

“But, it’s not just any dead body.”

“I’m listening…”

“This dead body happened to become dead while…You ready?”

“…yeah?”

“Masturbating!”

“Score!”

***

Elise filled me in on the semi-vague details she had just received via her brief phone call. A dude named Vincent Maxwell has a friend, sorry, HAD a friend named Balthazar August, (seriously) who cashed in, shall we say, with a smile on his face. Here’s the best part, he died in Las Vegas! And not only did he die in Las Vegas, he died in the same hotel where some asshole just spent all my money. The coincidence was amazing and I started to get excited about the possibilities of where this case may take us.

A maid at the hotel entered the room during her usual cleaning rounds to discover Mr. August dead in the closet, pants down with a belt wrapped around his neck, hanging from a hook. The maid calmly phoned hotel security to inform them that she found another dead body, her ninth this year.

The LVPD we’re called to the scene and eventually came up with an accidental death ruling. But, Balthazar’s friend, with whom he was vacationing, thinks things didn’t add up. They were roommates together here in town and went to Vegas for a quick weekend getaway to celebrate the selling of their latest script. Get this, they write low-level, soft core booby movies for Cinemax! This case was going to be great!

Anyway, the friend who called us, Vincent, isn’t happy with the ruling. He said he had known the deceased for years and he never showed any sign of being interested in choking himself while…choking himself. Even with the massive amount of alcohol involved during their Vegas weekend, he still couldn’t see it happening like that. He suspected foul play. He didn’t say why on the phone. He would explain when he arrived at the office late this afternoon.

As for now, our previous clients were just arriving. They would be happy to see us.

4.

I checked my bank account again later that afternoon and lucky for me, all my money had been stolen! Hooray, now I could finally do something about it. Thanks crappy credit union!

I wanted to get to the bank before they closed today but we were still waiting on Vincent to arrive. Looks like it would have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Vincent showed up thirty minutes later. I asked Elise to join us in my office to hear this awesome story.

I invited Vincent to take a seat. He obliged.

“So, Mr. Maxwell…”

“Just call me Vince,” he said.

“Great. I have a friend named Maxwell.”

“Good to know,” he said and he gave Elise a quick glance. What’s that all about?

“Anyway, Vince,” I say “Tell us what happened and why you need our services.”

“Well, we decided to go to Vegas last week. We had just finished some work and were in the mood to do some drinking and some gambling. We usually get over there about twice a year or so. We have fun.”

“Of course,” I said.

“So, anyway, we’re having a good time, playing some blackjack, drinking some really expensive free drinks, enjoying the scenery, if you know what I mean…” He added a little nod, making sure I knew what he meant, I guess. I didn’t.

“Nope.”

“Ya know, the ass, man.”

“The Assman?”

He turned to Elise again. “Is this guy for real?”

“I get asked that a lot,” she answered. “Please continue, Mr. Maxwell.”

He smirked then went on. “Anyway, Balls hit a bit of a losing streak and decided to head back up to the room to cool off for a minute and grab some more cash. He said he’d be back in a little bit and would text me if I wasn’t still at the table. He never came back. That was the last time I saw him alive.”

“I’m sorry; Balls?” I ask.

“Yeah, that’s just what I called him. Just a joke, since-‘

“Okay,” Elise chimed in, “you said earlier that the maid found his body. I’m confused about the timeline. How long had he been gone before he was found dead?”

“Not too long. Maybe a little over two hours or so? We had been up all night. When he left the table it had to have been after 6am. The hotel said the maids start their rounds at 8am.”

“Okay. So why do you think it wasn’t an accident?”

“Because I’ve known the guy for years. We were roommates. I think I would know if he was a pervert.”

I interrupted, “So, what you’re saying is; your friend wasn’t known for masturbating…INXS?” I looked around the room, trying hard not to giggle at my clever, and rather hilarious, joke, seeing if anyone else got it. Apparently they did not. Alright then. “I heard you guys write Skinemax flicks. Is this true?”

He returned his look to me, “Yes, that’s true, but just because we write that ridiculous crap doesn’t mean we’re pervs. Believe me, it wasn’t our lifelong dream to write that dreck, we wanted to write real movies, we just never got a break. Titty flicks were our starting point. They were easy enough to write and the money was decent. That’s not the point…”

“I know, I wasn’t implying anything. I was actually, ya know, impressed by it. Those movies have gotten me through many a sleepless night.”

“I’m flattered, but listen; he didn’t do this to himself. I know it.”

“Let me ask you, how had he been acting recently? Was anything bothering him? Was he depressed or anything like that?”

“No, not at all. Like I said, we just sold another script. It was a real gem called Throbbin’ Hood.”

“God damn, that sounds amazing. What other movies have you guys written? You’d be surprised, I might just know them. I don’t get much sleep these days.”

“Hmm, well have you seen The Rodfather?”

“Yes! Oh my god! Any others?”

“Yeah, a lot. We’ve been doing this a while. Let’s see. We did, um, Lost in Penetration, A Few Hard Men, Fatal Erection, Hatchet Wound, Lick-Ass, Throw Momma in the Train, Apollo 13 Inches, Rambone-‘

“Gentlemen!” Elise interrupted! “Seriously! This is unnecessary!” She turned to me with her angry eyes, “Stay on track, Archie.”

“You’re right.” I said, and then turned back to Vince. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little star struck. Back to business.”

“Yeah,” Vince said. “My bad.”

“So your friend seemed fine, yes?”

“Yes, absolutely. It wasn’t suicide if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No, not at all. Just routine questions.”

“I just know he didn’t do this. It wasn’t his style. I know it.”

“Did you tell this to the police, Mr. Maxwell?” Elise asked.

“Yes, but they didn’t seem to care too much. They ruled it as accidental and that was that. Look, Balls was no idiot who would accidentally kill himself. He was valedictorian of his high school class, which was nothing compared to graduating with honors from Harvard six years ago. He’s a genius. I’m sure he could figure out that strangling himself could lead to death. I just want you guys to snoop around a bit. Put a little effort into it, because the cops sure didn’t. If you can’t find anything wrong, then I’ll let it go, but I just have a feeling in my gut that it’s not right. I wouldn’t even know where to start. That’s why I’m coming to you.”

I was busy scribbling notes into my notebook, trying to work out the timeline of events and put together a quick profile of both parties involved, but I still managed to giggle at his choice of words at the end, there. Vince continued talking to Elise, but I was too engrossed in the paper in front of me to pay much attention. Bottom line was I was finally going to get my trip to Vegas. Oh, and a hilarious new case to solve. Things were finally looking up for me. Now all I had to do was scrounge up some gambling money. I doubt I could do much with my ninety-six cents.

“I don’t really know how this whole thing works, ya know. I’ve never done this,” Vince said.

“Well,” Elise replied, “it’s fairly standard. First of all, you have to trust us. If you don’t get the right vibe from us, then you should walk away and find someone you do trust. If you like us, then we can proceed. If you go elsewhere, you have to make sure that the investigator is licensed by the state and is fully insured and bonded. It’s mandatory for the license, but you still need to check. You need the investigators to have insurance because once you hire them, they are basically your employee, and if anything is damaged or anything like that by them, you will be liable. Other than that, make sure they have a confidentiality agreement. You don’t need other people knowing your business. Get it in writing, too. Anything else is up to you. Oh, some investigators will not testify in court, others will, that’s up to you, whatever you want. We, obviously, will testify when needed.”

“Oh, thanks,” Vince said. “Really, thanks. I’d really like to proceed. We’ve got money. I have money from the movies and Balls’ parents are wealthy. I just talked to them and they said they’d help with anything. They’re in town right now. So, like, what are the prices?”

I looked up to join the conversation again and heard Elise explaining our rates. He took out his credit card and handed it to Elise. She walked out to her desk and grabbed her iPad and the credit card reader that plugs into it and slid the card. She then looked at the card, typed something on the iPad then returned the card to Vincent. What she was doing was authorizing a mandatory one-thousand dollar charge with an additional fifteen-hundred dollar hold. The rest would be billed if the costs went over.

“You have to understand, Vince,” I added, “we’ll do our best to dig into this thing and see what we can find. But if the police department couldn’t find anything fishy with the scene, don’t get your hopes up. The hotel room has been cleaned and rented out several times since his death, I would assume, so we’re going to have to go strictly by photos and interviews.”

“I understand. I just have to try. The room should still be vacant, though. The hotel manager said something about that in regards to death. Balls’ stuff is still there, too.”

“Right on, then. We will do our best. We will be in contact with you often so you’ll know exactly where we are every step of the way and you can make sure your money is being spent well.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you, guys. Really.”

I drew up a contract for him and he read it over, signed it and returned it to me. We were now officially in business together.

He stood up and shook both our hands then made his way out the door. Once he was gone, I asked “That credit card didn’t have my name on it, did it?”