GUMSHOES

Chapter 6 - Hard Nosed Negotiations

Wendell poured through the files, reading some bits aloud, cursing at others. His desk was littered with sheets of typed and handwritten notes, on various scraps of paper, and photocopies of photographs, the originals in police evidence boxes. Jerome sat on the radiator cover eating a South Seas pizza, laden with banana, mango and jalapeño peppers.

"Aah! Aah! Aah! Got it. Hot damn!" He swung around holding a sheet out to Jerome, displaying a malicious grin. "I know what Max Shine's connection is!"

Jerome set the pizza box down and took the paper, reading slowly and intently.

"I don't see anything about Shine here."

"It's the pattern. Look at the pattern."

Jerome took on another mouthful of pizza, and chewed while he frowned at the page.

"Well?"

"I still don't see--"

"Deduce, man, deduce. You're an investigator." Wendell's impatience had him shouting.

"I don't know what the deuce you're talkin' about." He handed the sheet back.

Wendell slumped at his desk and patted the sheet of paper. "I sometimes wonder at my decision to make you a partner."

"Might have had something to do with the money I invested in this." Jerome waved a hand, sending mango bits across the room.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Now, while you clean up that mess you made, I will explain what I found. My dad was tasked with finding and stopping the smuggling of individuals into the country by persons unknown. After exhausting investigation he learned, first of all, that it was a custom operation. That is, only single individuals were smuggled in, presumably for a large fee. People, who for some reason or another, had to leave their country.

The custom part was in the means used to accomplish that. On the sheet I showed you there were four arrests made because those means broke down through intense investigation. problem was, they could never get the big fish, and the little ones they caught clammed up."

"I still do not see Shine's connection."

"Think about it, Jerome. The first one they caught was when the casket being unloaded was dropped and the fugitive spilled out in front of customs officers. The second one was in a truck load of plants. Apparently the guy developed a serious allergy and surrendered in agony. The old oil drum ruse was a flop because the inspectors enjoyed beating on them - screams gave it away. The last one, where dad was killed, they disguised the guy as a car seat. We know how that turned out."

"And you think Shine is making masks to disguise them."

"I'd bet your bottom dollar on it. It would be perfect in those masks we saw."

Jerome finished his pizza and spent minutes meticulously licking his fingers and digging remnants from his teeth.

"I doubt Elvis Presley would fool many inspectors."

"Not those masks - custom jobs. Didn't you see the moulds on the workbench and that 3D printer? He could turn them into any face he wanted - even gender! It wouldn't even seem like smuggling. They could drive right across the border like anyone else, with good credentials."

"And that's why he called and warned us to back off."

"Bingo! I bet he's hauling in a fortune, or has a chance to."

"So, we just go to the cops and collect our reward."

"It's just our theory, Jerome. We need proof, real proof before we bring any cops in."

"And we get that how?"

"I'm thinking."

******

Audrey listened to a complete replay of Wendell's theory, interrupting only once or twice to clarify. When he finished, she got up and brought a bottle of wine to the living room with three glasses.

"It sounds pretty good, Wendy, I have to admit. The rub will be getting solid proof. Catching them in the act is a non-starter. You would never know when, who, or what he or she even looked like - before or after."

"That's why our next move is to stake out Max's shop and see who comes and goes."

"That's crazy. That could take forever, and what, we follow every person that goes into his shop?" Jerome complained.

"I doubt Max has that much walk-in business, but if that's what it takes. You have a better plan?"

Audrey poured some wine into her glass and raised a hand. "I do." They sat up eagerly. "One of you could do stake out duty while the other does the agreed upon vacuuming and dusting."

"Well, Jero--"

"Oh no! Jerome can't. Jerome will sit on the shop while Wendell keeps his promise. I can take pictures as well as you, partner. It's my camera after all."

"But we need to follow--"

"I can follow too, believe it or not, Wend -ell."

"Good. That's settled." Audrey raised her glass in a toast and bathed them both in her smile.

******

Hardy listened to Fletcher's recounting of Max's terms, pausing a spoonful of Ash Reshteh soup to his mouth as he listened to Max's suggestion regarding his finger.

"You vouching for his work, Fletcher?"

"Absolutely. It's fantastic - really."

"I recall the same testimonial for the car seat idea."

"I know- that was- was- but this is guaranteed, Hardy."

"For the money it better be. Take Donnie with you."

"I don't need muscle to deliver a cheque, Hardy."

"It's advertising, Fletcher. Shows our suppliers our business means business." The soup was slurped noisily off the spoon.

******

"I want regular updates, Jerome," Wendell commanded, watching with a forlorn longing as Jerome gleefully loaded up his cooler.

"When there's something to report, I'll report."
"Yeah, if your mouth isn't too full." He waved a disgusted hand at the cooler. "You aren't going on holiday you know."

"Compared to dusting and vacuuming, I am. Don't forget to move the furniture when you vacuum, Audrey will check you know." Jerome cackled and carted his laden cooler to the door. "See you, partner."

Wendell watched the car pull out of the drive, windows down and a loud Bossa Nova track pounding from the player. He turned and sighed, looking at the vacuum then the room and holding up the feather duster for appraisal.

"Tools every private investigator longs for." He tucked it in his belt, plugged in the vacuum and plodded across the living room carpet.