Black

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"There's a gentleman here to see you," Daniela announced to Freddie over the intercom.

Freddie glanced at the speaker. "That's nice. Who is it?"

"A Mr. Black. He said that he's involved in the murder investigation."

Freddie rolled his eyes, then closed his browser. The truth was he'd been surfing the web, looking at his competitors' sites, watching how they treated the same stories he was featuring, so it wasn't like he was particularly busy at the moment. Still, he'd already spent a half hour with two detectives the prior day, and his time was valuable.

"Fine. Show him back."

When Black appeared with Daniela, Freddie appraised him briefly and then indicated one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Daniela closed the door behind her, and Freddie gave Black a wan smile that never reached his eyes before leaning back in his seat and exhaling noisily.

"I've already told you everything I know. I don't see how else I can help you," he started, irritation barely contained in his every word.

"Yes, well, we appreciate that. I just have a few questions, and then I'll be on my way," Black said in an officious manner. He had told the receptionist that he was investigating the latest murder, and she had assumed that he was with the police. He'd even favored one of his more modern-cut jackets and a pair of nondescript gray wool trousers, dressing in an impression of Stan that he thought would fool just about anyone. It had worked, and now he was with his client's nemesis, free to ask whatever he liked as long as he didn't blow it and tip his hand.

"Well, let's not wait for Christmas, then," Freddie said.

"We've already covered the victim's background and the events leading up to the unfortunate event. I want to discuss related elements of the case. Specifically, anything he might have been working on that could have triggered an attack."

"What, you think this wasn't random?"

"I didn't say that. But you have to admit that working for your company has become a singularly dangerous occupation lately. We need to consider all possibilities, that's all."

"Then you think it could be related to the other attacks?"

"We don't have enough information to draw any conclusions, sir. But it's certainly something we're looking at."

"Fine. For the record, there wasn't anything inflammatory he was working on that I know of."

"I see. Tell me, Mr. Sypes. How does your organization get its information?"

"Well, that's kind of a trade secret."

"I'm sure it is. But humor me. I'm not planning to set up a competitive site anytime soon." Black favored Freddie with an empty smile of his own.

"To answer your question, we have a host of ways. People call us with tips. We pay service people at a wide variety of restaurants and clubs where celebrities are known to hang out. Sometimes we get contacted by PR people trying to create buzz for their clients. EMT techs, firemen, even cops give us tips. There are a hundred different ways we stay plugged in."

"I was looking at your site, and I noticed a couple of pieces that caught my eye. Can we use those as examples?"

"I'm not sure how that's going to help catch Lorenzo's murderer..."

"There's a method to my madness. Play along with me," Black said in a decidedly unplayful tone. "You've got one about Terry Hollens. Going into rehab for the, what, fifth time?"