“I couldn’t.” she replied.
“What do you mean? You don’t have his cell phone number?”
“He did not use one. Every time he called, it would be from a phone booth. I had no way of contacting him. He said his job required him not to have a cell phone. I did not ask him too much about it.” she said, fully aware of the fact that it was unusual for anybody to not have a contact number. The detective thought it was strange too. He could think of several jobs that might prevent a person from giving contact information to his own sister. Most of these jobs were of the sinister kind, and he did not really enjoy the direction the discussions were taking him. However, his mind was racing, his blood was pumping, and he was getting excited.
“I have to admit, this is very strange. Please do not take this the wrong way. Was he involved with a criminal gang?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. He was a little spoilt during childhood. When our parents died, I took care of him. He moved to this city two years ago, looking for a job. After that, he would randomly come to visit me. Ever since he moved here, he would always insist on calling on his own, and not once would he let me call him. Nor would he let me visit him here. I thought that it was strange in the beginning. Over the months, I got used to it.” she answered.
“Have you lodged a complaint with the police?”
“I did that three days ago. I have yet to hear from them. I got anxious as days passed. Finally, I called up June, got your address, and came to see you, first thing this morning.” she said. She was speaking a lot better now. Something in her gut told her that this private detective would help her out.
“I see. I will need some information from you. First, please give me your contact information. You have to understand that I may have to intrude into your personal affairs in order to ascertain your claims about yourself and your brother. I will probably need a few things, and there will be an advance payment that you would have to make. By tonight I will email you all the information that I would need. Missing person cases can get pretty expensive. I do not know how much you can afford to spend on this case.” he said.
“Money is not a problem, Mr. Russo. Please state the advance sum in the email you will be sending. I will make the payment by tonight.” she said.
Looks like I finally got something. John Russo said to himself. He had a real criminal case. The money is good. The client seems to be eager. On top of that, she already had confidence in his working capacity. So far, so good. He made a note of her contact number and email address and bid good bye. She got up, smiled, and let herself out. John Russo heaved a huge sigh of relief. A wide smile took over his face.
John got up from his chair, pressed the button that locked the office door, and relaxed on his favorite sofa. The television was off and John hoped that it would remain that way for a long time to come. As John relaxed on his sofa, staring at the ceiling, his brain started working out the path that lay ahead of him.
So far, all John knew was that there was this woman, Ms. Luck, who felt that her brother was missing. Oddly enough, she was assuming that her brother was missing. For all John knew, the brother could be dead. The only thing she knew for sure was that he lived in the city of Primer. Was he still in Primer? If he was, why did he call her from public phone booths? Why did he never give his contact number, or even an email address, for that matter? What if Ms. Luck was not what she seemed to be? What if she was working on behalf of another agent, and this was all just a clever ruse to get some advantage over this Todd person? The eyes in the photograph and that of Ms. Luck matched perfectly. Then again, she could be wearing contact lenses.
That won’t do. John had to be sure that the client was genuine. That would mean checking her out at two different places. He would have to verify her name and contact details at the hotel she was staying in. Then he would have to make a trip to her residence and verify her identity in every way he could. Yes, that seemed to be the right way to go about it. First he would go to the city hotel she was staying in for the night. John hoped his Father would be there soon with his car. He glanced in the mirror at his attire and was relieved that he looked professional. He wore his silk suit which made him look like a banker. John loved silk, mostly because of its smoothness. There would always be times when John had to run, jump, and even use firearms. The many pockets and the flexibility of silk made it his favorite option for clothing.
John walked into the small cabinet that contained his collection of firearms. He picked up two guns and put them into his hidden holster underneath his jacket. Then he grabbed two blades and put them into secret slots in his shoes. John would normally not carry the two blades, but something told him that things were going to get pretty dangerous with this new assignment. On top of that, he had been without any action or activity in a seriously long time. If he were to rate himself, John would consider himself a seven out of ten. John hoped that this assignment would not get so dangerous that his first criminal assignment would be his last. John shuddered at the thought of that. Once he had his weapons secured, he headed down to the parking garage. His Dad was just reaching the lot.
“Thank you, Dad for letting me use your car; I really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem; I hope this means you have a case.” John did not want to get into details, but was pleased to indicate that yes he had a new case. “Use the car as long as you need it. I have called a cab, and it will be here soon.”
John smiled and thanked his Dad before jumping into the running car. “Thanks again, Dad.” His Dad waved as he exited the car park. John drove to the hotel in which Ms. Luck was staying. As he drove, he asked himself if it made sense for him to worry so much about the identity of his client. He could have just asked her for identification cards, but John had seen fake IDs before. John had a general mistrust of such IDs, mainly because he himself used a number of faked IDs for his work. Sometimes, the old fashioned way of doing private detective work on foot was the best. As far as John was concerned, this case demanded that old fashioned approach.
Chapter 5
A few minutes later, thanks mostly to the light traffic en route to the hotel, John had handed his car over to the valet. John looked up at the grand Hotel Trinity that stood in front of him. Hotel Trinity looked like it was decked out for a wedding bride who was taking her own sweet time to come out of the carriage. The main entrance seemed wide enough for a couple of elephants to walk through. John noticed a few security cameras that were discreetly placed at different parts of the entrance. If John weren’t a detective, he probably would not have noticed those cameras.
As he approached the door, the doorman smiled at him. John returned the smile and entered the hotel lobby. John noticed that the lobby looked nothing short of a palace, if palaces were still allowed to retain their formal glory. There were a few customers who were waiting in the lobby, seated comfortably on the many waiting chairs. John noticed a family of five step out of the elevator with one of the kids just breaking into a run towards the fountain at the center. John could hear light music in the lobby, but could not locate its source. The air had a pleasant smell to it, sort of like being on a hill top. John made a mental note to go there and spend a weekend the next time he was on a date. Perhaps he could ask Sheila out. John ignored that thought and approached the desk.
He pulled out his wallet and placed his private detective license on the desk in front of the receptionist. The receptionist, who slightly resembled the famous model Alice Long Walker, took his card and looked puzzled. She quickly decided that this was something she wouldn’t be able to handle and went inside, behind the closed door. John waited at the desk, and a minute later, a man returned from the door. He had a rigid expression on his face, like he would like it nothing better than to punch John in the face.
“Hello, Mr. Russo. Your card checked out okay. How can we help you?” asked the man. He did not venture to give his name out, and John did not bother asking. John took back his license card from his outstretched hand and put it back into his wallet.
“Perhaps, there is a place where we can discuss this in a bit more detail, Mr...” said John, trying to figure out his name.
“This way, please,” said the gruff guy, leading John to his cabin. John entered the office and took his seat while the manager sat on the opposite chair, behind the desk. John now felt how his clients felt when he would ask them twenty questions when they came with an assignment. John smiled, and then stopped midway, because the guy on the other end did not seem to like it.
“I am looking to know about Rita Luck. I believe she is staying in room number 567.” said John, getting straight to the point.
“One moment please,” said the manager, picking up the phone. He spoke in his gruff voice, “Bates. I need you to pull up the file of Rita Luck. She is in room 567. Make it quick!” John thought that the man always spoke with a gruff voice, and maybe that was just how he was. John guessed that he might be a man of about forty-five. There was a wedding ring on his finger, which made John wonder if any woman could really stay married to a fellow like him.
The phone rang again a moment later. The gruff guy answered it, “Okay. I will check my tablet. Thanks, Bates”. The manager picked up his tablet, made a few swipes, and he seemed to have opened the file that John would use. “Perhaps this is what you are looking for, detective?”
John picked up his tablet and found the customer information. The photo matched with that of his client. He was looking for her home address and it was mentioned. He also wanted her citizenship number and her credit card number. John knew that he could have got this information directly from her. For good or bad, he knew that the less his clients knew about his workings, the better.
“With your permission, Mr. Manager, I would like to make a copy of it.” said John.
“I would like to see the authorization letter that Ms. Luck would have given you when she hired you. I would like to dock that in my file, in case, this turns into a police investigation later, detective.” said the manager.
“I would not mind sharing the authorization letter. Just give me a minute. Also, could you give me your email address?” asked John, pulling out his phone. John opened the scanned copies of signed document and forwarded a copy to the manager. The manager opened it on his tablet, and seemed satisfied. Then, he forwarded a copy of the customer information to John. The indicator on John’s phone went off, notifying him of the document being received. His task done, John got up, shook hands with the manager, and headed to the exit. Once outside, he gave the valet the ticket to his car. A few minutes later, John was back in his Dad’s car and driving towards the train station.
John parked his car, reached the ticket booth. Rita Luck was from the nearby city of Townley. It was about an hour away by train. John was clear about what he wanted to do next. He wanted to visit her house, do some speaking with the neighbors. Then, he wanted to visit her bank. There was something fishy about her, and he wanted to be sure he was working for the right agent. There had been a few times when John had been hired by ‘fake’ clients. There was this one time when this guy hired him to spy on his wife. That was way back in his business’ early days. It turned out that the guy wasn’t the husband at all. He was simply a co-worker with a serious crush.
As John sat next to the window seat in the train, he could not help but smile at that fake client case. John praised his good fortune that the case wasn’t a serious one and things ended satisfactorily. John looked around to see who else he would be sharing the journey to Townley. The seats next to him and the two opposite to him were both empty. On the other side of the train, there was a young woman sitting. She was wearing her headphones and there was a portable computer in front of her. Opposite of her was an elderly couple, and they had already dozed off.
The woman with the headphones had a distinct lipstick on her lips, blood red. John continued to stare at her lips, as if enamored by them. She seemed to notice him staring at her and glared at him. John looked away and returned to the sight outside. The train started moving and it picked up speed fast enough. Soon the train had left behind the vehicle filled streets and tall buildings of Primer and the view outside was filled with the open expanses of the small towns and villages that passed. Pleasant music filled the interior of the train. John shut his mind off the case and let his mind wander away to the music.
About two hours later, John was at 254 Wallop Street, Townley. This was the address that John had picked up at the hotel. The house was a three story place, and the exterior was made of stones. The door had an elaborate decoration on it. There was no mail in the mail box, and the windows were all closed. John looked to the houses to the left and right. The one on the right was closed and John assumed that nobody was at home. At the house on the left, there was someone at the balcony. John looked up to find that it was an elderly gentleman who was reading the newspaper. The neighbor soon noticed John. He put his paper down and walked to the edge of the balcony.
“The folks at that place are not at home. Can I help you, young man?” shouted the neighbor from the balcony.
“I had an urgent message for Ms. Luck. May I have a word with you, sir?” asked John, in the most innocent of voices he could manage.
“I will be there in a minute, young man. Hold on.” said the neighbor. By the time John walked to the entrance of the next door, the neighbor was already standing at the open door. John smiled, continuing his pretense of being a young man who would enjoy nothing better than a conversation with an elderly person. He slouched his shoulders a bit and his voice was humble. The neighbor was easily impressed. John was aware of that. What is a detective if he cannot get some information he wanted nicely.
“Hello, sir. My name is Tim. Tim Alex, from the courier company.” said John, lying convincingly.
“You can call me Tom, young man. Tim, you say? Did you have business with Ms. Luck?” asked the neighbor.
John pulled out his phone and showed Rita’s picture to Tom who recognized the picture right away.
“Yes, that is her, young man. Did you say you are from the courier company?” .asked Tom.
“Yes, sir. I had a delivery from Mr. Luck from the city of Primer. I am guessing that would be her brother.” said John, pushing his luck with information.
“I remember her mentioning a name Luck. I have never met him, though. Is this package you are talking about, from him?” asked Tom.
“Yes, Tom. We got a call from our office in Primer an hour ago. The package has been delayed. We tried reaching Ms. Luck on the phone but she is not answering. So, my Boss sent me to check with her personally. Looks like she is not at home.” said John.
“I can give her a message when she comes home.” said Tom.
“Well, that would be great. Do give her the message that I was here. Here is my card, sir,” said John, handing over one of his many fake ID cards that he had in his wallet.
“I will give this to her, young man. Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? My maid can have it ready in ten minutes.” Tom seemed eager for a visitor.
“No, Tom. I have to rush back to my office, or my boss will have my neck for sure. Thank you for your help. Goodbye” said John, stepping down and walking back to the street. Tom waved him away, and closed the door after him. As John stood on the street, looking for a cab, he noticed that Tom was back on the balcony, reading the same newspaper again. John got into the cab and asked him to drive to the main office of Carpet’s House Bank. That was the bank that issued Ms. Luck’s card, and he needed one last piece of information to complete his client verification.
The cab had him at the front offices in only a few minutes. It took John a few minutes to gain an interview with the manager of the bank. The bank manager was a man in his early thirties. He introduced himself as Peter Storms and asked John to step into his office with the courtesy that one would normally expect from a senior manager. He verified John’s private detective license and his work order. The whole process took about ten minutes. Once everything was green, the manager returned to his desk.
“Well, detective. Your information is legit. How can I be of assistance today?” asked the manager.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Storms. I wanted a little more information about Ms. Luck’s finances. From what she has told me, I understand she works at a not for profit organization?” asked John.
“That is correct. She has no income that comes from her job. At least, that is what her bank account tells me.” answered the manager.
“Then again, she is paying me handsomely for my services. I have looked at her home, as well as the hotel she is staying in today in Primer city. I was curious to know where she is getting her money from.” John definitely felt something was amiss.
“There is no mystery in that detective. Every month, like clockwork, there is a deposit made into her account from the city of Primer. I have to admit, it is a lot of money, and it has been deposited, without fail, for the last five years.” said the manager.
“Is it wire transfer?” John asked. Even before John came to this bank, he was sure that the deposit would not be made by wire transfer. John had a hunch that it would be cash.
“Surprisingly, no. The amount is deposited in cash. Each time, the name of the depositor is different. I found that odd when it was brought to my attention once. Then again, there is no rule that a person should not have money deposited into the account. So, we did not look into that.” said the manager.
The manager had told him everything he wanted to know. John took his card for if he ever had to contact him again. He thanked the manager and left his office. Once on the street, he grabbed a cab and asked the driver to drive him to the train station. As the cab drove toward the train station, John realized something. Townley was where Nancy worked. He thought about that wonderful time they both had a month earlier. That was also the last time John had gone on a date. He thought she would be upset if he came to her city and did not even say hello.
“Driver, could you stop the car for a minute?” said John. The driver slowed his vehicle down, and stopped it on the side of the street. John took out his phone and dialed her number. As the phone rang, John noticed that the time was about six pm. The phone was answered and Nancy spoke on the other side.
“John. This is a pleasant surprise. How are you?” asked Nancy.
“I am fine. Nancy, are you still at your office?” asked John.
“I just finished work. I was pulling my car out and heading home.” replied Nancy.
“I am in Townley on work.” said John, waiting to see what she would say.
“Really? That is wonderful news. I am not doing anything this evening. You up for dinner?” asked Nancy.
“I was hoping for it. Do you know any good restaurants?” asked John.
“John, forget the restaurants. You are in my town now. I am mailing you my address. Show that to your driver and he will bring you here. It’s evening time, and that means it will take you about an hour to reach my home I will have dinner laid out on the table by then. Would you mind if dinner is pizza?” asked Nancy.
“Pizza sounds great. See you soon.” said John.
A minute later, an email arrived on his phone. John opened it and found that it was her home address. He shared the address with the cab driver. The cab driver turned around and drove towards Nancy’s house. John phoned his Dad and requested him to pick his car from Primer train station using the spare keys. His Dad confirmed that he would do so.
Just as Nancy had said, the drive took about an hour. John paid the driver the taxi fare and a generous amount as tip, as usual. When he reached her apartment, she opened the door even before he could knock.
“Hey, John. Come right in.” she said.
John walked into an apartment that was almost similar to his. The living room had a lot of space and there was minimal furniture. There was a huge television screen on the wall and John noticed that there was a surround sound system lined around the sofa set. There was a lot of light in the living room, coming through a window right behind the dining table. John could see a wonderful view beyond that, another thing that was similar to his own apartment.