W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)
The relationship between Mary Lee Bryce and this Pensky fellow certainly cried out for further study. If he could talk Willard into extending their agreement, he could submit a second round of paperwork without actually having to do anything. The report itself offered no interpretation or speculation about the nature of the relationship. Pete liked the neutral tone, which seemed crisp and professional, one he might have adopted himself if he’d elected to do the work. He’d offer Willard a verbal summary first in which he’d set the stage. Properly prepared, Willard would be eager to authorize additional surveillance.
Pete took the finished report, made a copy for his files, and attached the photocopies of both sets of round-trip tickets with the relevant adjustments made to reflect how thoroughly he’d done his work. The Nevada PI had spent four nights at the same convention hotel where Mary Lee Bryce had been. Pete made a copy of the bill, whited out the other fellow’s name and credit card information, typed his own into the blank, and photocopied the bill for a second time. He leaned close to the page, inspecting the results, and decided it would be fine and dandy for his purposes. Willard would be too busy hyperventilating over the contents to pay attention to expenses. Generously, Pete discounted his fees by twenty percent, which he noted at the bottom of the page.
He tucked the paperwork in the half-filled banker’s box and shoved it in the knee hole under his desk. He put a call through to Willard. Pete had scarcely identified himself when Willard jumped on him with both feet.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he’d snapped. “I should have heard from you weeks ago. As much money as I paid, I expected you to be prompt.”
“Now, let’s just hold on a minute, son. I’m not some pal of yours, doing you a personal favor. You hired me to do a job and I went far above and beyond. Your tone is a hair accusatory for a man who’ll benefit mightily from my being such a thoroughgoing professional. Most investigators would be content to leave well enough alone. I went the extra mile. Let’s not even talk about the twenty percent discount I accorded you in appreciation for your business. I guess none of what I uncovered is of interest.”
He could picture Willard’s eyelids turning a brighter shade of pink. Willard probably wasn’t accustomed to being backed into a corner and it took him a few seconds to collect himself.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” he murmured.
“You sounded pretty hot under the collar if you want my take on it.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a wreck waiting to hear from you. That’s all I was trying to say.”
“You like, I can drop my report in the mail to you without further ado. You might find it more instructive if I go over it in person, but that’s entirely your choice.”
“‘Instructive’ meaning what?”
“There’s reality and then there’s facts. I’m saying there’s a difference that I’d be happy to clarify. I should point out you could have called me at any point during these past two weeks and I’d have told you the same thing. I had the information in hand. What’s taken the additional time is the verification supplied by an out-of-state colleague purely as a courtesy to me. Do you want to take a look at it or not?”
“Of course. I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. Mary Lee came home jumpier than I’ve ever seen her. I tried talking to her, but she shut me down. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“The good news is I’m now in a position to fill in some blanks. I won’t say my report’s definitive, but it’s a start. I can stop by later this afternoon.”
“That won’t work. She’s been leaving the lab early, practically barricading herself in the bedroom to make phone calls. You’d have to be here by three and you can’t stay long.”
“Might make more sense if we conduct our business off-site. Why don’t I pick you up and we’ll go somewhere else?”
“What if she comes home while I’m out?”
“Leave her a note. Tell her you’re having coffee with a friend and don’t specify the gender. Want my opinion, you’d benefit from creating an air of mystery around yourself. She’s doubtless taking you for granted and that won’t help your cause.”
• • •
Pete picked up Willard at the prearranged spot, a block and a half from the Bryces’ apartment. He liked the cloak-and-dagger aspects of the meeting. He’d wanted to put Willard in the proper frame of mind, talking him through the findings before he surrendered the written account. Willard was having none of it, already impatient at having had to wait this long. He held out his hand, snapping his fingers twice as though Pete were a dog. Pete had no choice but to pass him the manila envelope.