his hand with puzzlement each time it came away empty.
The backs of his hands were marked with scabbed-over scratches, too, a
couple of which were slightly swollen and inflamed.
“But frankly,” he said,
“seeking help from private detectives seems ridiculous, as if this isn’t
real life but a TV show.”
“I’ve got heartburn, so it’s real life, all right,” Bobby said. He was
standing at one of the big sixth-floor windows that faced out toward the
mist-obscured sea and down on the nearby buildings of Fashion Island,
the Newport Beach shopping center adjacent to the office tower in which
Dakota & Dakota leased a seven-room suite. He turned from the view,
leaned against the sill, and extracted a roll of Rolaids from the pocket
of his jacket.
“TV detectives never suffer heartburn, dandruff, or the heartbreak of
psoriasis.”
“Mr. Pollard,” Julie said,
“I’m sure Mr. Karaghiosis has explained to you that strictly speaking we
aren’t private detectives.”
“Yes.”
“We’re security consultants. We primarily work with corporations and
private institutions. We have eleven employees with sophisticated
skills and years of security experience, which is a lot different from
the one-man PI fantasies on TV. We don’t shadow men’s wives to see if
they’re being unfaithful, and we don’t do divorce work or any of the
other things that people usually come to private detectives for.”
“Mr. Karaghiosis explained that to me,” Pollard said, looking down at
his hands, which were clenched on his thighs.
From the sofa to the left of the desk, Clint Karaghiosis said,
“Frank told me his story, and I really think you ought to h why he needs
us.” Julie noted that Clint had used the would-be client’s first name,
which he had never done before during six years with Dakota & Dakota.
Clint was solidly built-five foot eight, hundred and sixty pounds. He
looked as though he had on been an inanimate assemblage of chunks of
granite and stone marble, flint and field stone, slate and iron and
lodesto which some alchemist had transmuted into living flesh.
broad countenance, though handsome enough, also looked if it had been
chiseled from rock. In a search for a sign of weariness in his face,
one could say only that, though strong, so features were not as strong
as others. He had a rocklike personality too: steady, reliable,
imperturbable. Few people i pressed Clint, and fewer still pierced his
reserve and elicit more than a polite, businesslike response from him.
Hint of the client’s first name seemed to be a subtle expression of
sympathy for Pollard and a vote of confidence in the truthfulness of
whatever tale the man had to tell.
“If Clint thinks this is something for us, that’s good enough for me,”
Bobby said.
“What’s your problem, Frank?” Julie was not impressed that Bobby had
used the client’s first name so immediately, casually. Bobby liked
everyone he met at least until they emphatically proved themselves
unworthy of being liked. In fact, you had to stab him in the back
repeatedly, virtually giggling with malice, before he would finally a
regretfully consider the possibility that maybe he shouldn’t like you.
Sometimes she thought she had married a big puppy that was pretending to
be human.
Before Pollard could begin, Julie said,
“One thing, first.
we decide to accept your case-and I stress the if-we are cheap.”
“That’s no problem,” Pollard said. He lifted a leather flight bag from
the floor at his feet. It was one of two he’d brought with him. He put
it on his lap and unzippered it. He withdrew a couple of packs of
currency and put them on the desk. Twenties and hundreds.
As Julie took the money to inspect it, Bobby pushed away from the
windowsill and went to Pollard’s side. He look down into the flight bag
and said,
“It’s crammed full.”
“One hundred and forty thousand dollars,” Pollard said Upon quick
inspection, the money on the desk did not appear to be counterfeit.
Julie pushed it aside and said,
“Mr. Pollard, are you in the habit of carrying so much cash?”
“I don’t know,” Pollard said.
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated miserably.
“He literally doesn’t know,”