The Blackmail Club by David Bishop Read Free Book Online Page A

some tailin’ done.”
    “That’s right. You interested?”
    “Yes, sir, I can do your job and would be glad for it. Truth is, I miss havin’ me nose in the wind.”
    “We want this fella tailed round the clock.” While Jack talked, he pulled two bottles of water from the half fridge in the corner behind his desk. “The job includes you putting together a team, and keeping it going until I say stop.”
    “Can do, and I’ll be startin’ and stoppin’ when you say. We do need to talk pay a mite. I’ll have to give up being a security guard. It’s a flavorless job, but it buys me needies.”
    “We’ll pay you thirty an hour and guarantee the number of hours needed to cover what you made as a security guard. We might work you more. We’ll pay the men you pick twenty an hour, without a minimum. You okay with that?”
    Max screwed the cap off his water bottle. “A more’n fair offer, Jack. I’m aware it’s a temporary job, but I should be telling ya I take it with the intent of convincing ya to retain me permanent.”
    “That could happen, Max, but I don’t promise. At the moment we have but one case.” Jack leaned forward and handed him an information sheet.
    “Life has few promises,” Max replied. “I’ll take what I earn, no more.” He held up the page Jack had given him. “Is this the donkey you want me to pin a tail on?”
    “Yes. Donkey—Donny Andujar.”
    “I know the lad by sight, but he has no shine on me. I know his club. It’s fancier than most, but when you lift the lid, it’s no different from the rougher stripper joints.”
    “Do you need a camera with zoom and night vision?”
    “Takin’ pitchers is me hobby.” He raised his hand and clicked the button on a phantom camera. “I have one, and I can pass it along to my lads as we change shifts.” After a pause, he said, “Art Tyson, a local PI—Nora knows him—tried to hire me to be one of his camera-slingers. But to paraphrase your American West, ‘a man’s gotta decide which brand he’ll ride for.’ For me,” he shook his head, “it’ll not be Tyson’s outfit. I’m ready to start anytime.”
    “Now would be good. Thanks for riding for our brand.” Jack winked. “Welcome to MI.”
    “Good to be with you.”
    Jack took another twenty minutes to bring Max up to speed on the case; what little they knew and that at this point they had no clues or intuitions.
    After he walked Max out, he told Nora the terms under which Max would be working and that he had started immediately. In turn, Nora told Jack that Mary Lou Sanchez had come by while he was talking with Max. That she had hired Mary Lou and she would be starting tomorrow morning. Nora and Mary Lou would work out their schedules so that one of them was always at the office.
    Jack stood shrouded by the afternoon shadows, at the grave of his dead wife, Rachel. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, Rach. I’ve been traveling, trying to learn if there was a connection between your death and my past work for the government. I found none. Nora caught up with me in Egypt to say that Chris Andujar was dead. The police have ruled suicide, but Sarah thinks Chris had been blackmailed and that’s why he took his life. We’ve meet with Sarah and have nothing so far that confirms either explanation of his death. But I swear to you I will find the answers.”
    After a while a breeze brought aromas that made him remember Luigi’s, Rachel’s favorite restaurant, but Luigi’s was miles away. He touched the chiseled granite, letting his fingers ride the cold grooves of each letter.
    Rachel McCall, beloved bride of Jack McCall
     
    The choice of bride, rather than wife, had been unusual, but after so short a time together, bride had seemed right.
    The stone showed her age to be forty-three, four years younger than Jack.
    He had survived hell many times on the world’s declared and secret battlefields. He had seen so much he could only explain through a belief in God. Had