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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781449037222 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 12/08/2009 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 108 |
| File size: | 153 KB |
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SILHOUETTE
By Robert Emmet Grant
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Robert Emmet GrantAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-3720-8
Chapter One
THE YEAR: 1970 (a major USA Metropolis)The naked body of Victoria Ver might appear to some as sensually stimulating ... even in death! The only defect: a small bullet hole in her no longer beating heart! A sordid end and sad waste of beauty were first blush thoughts imagined. Victoria Ver's death scene photograph I was viewing was attached to a thin Criminal Investigative Report (CIR), sent to me from Manila by Fidel Guerero, Director General of the Philippine Constabulary. The cryptic report alleged she had been murdered in the bedroom of her family home in Manila by a current leading suspect, her lawyer husband Fernando Ver the leading candidate for Attorney General of the Philippines. Absence of motive was irritating and bothersome to the Philippine Constabulary, hence the desire for more information about the victim's background and so forth. The package included a box of Tabacalera cigars, the finest in the Philippines since 1881, and was the Director General's traditional gift to me. Fidel and I went all the way back to our combat days during the Korean War. Fidel was part of the Philippine Forces contingent to that conflict and we both had lost some of our body parts in that undertaking ... on the same day and during the same particular battle skirmish no less! Ihad lost an arm while serving with the Marines; Fidel, most of an ear and a large part of an elbow and knee. He had narrowly escaped losing an eye as well. We had somehow met while we were waiting medical transit back to our respective countries and kept up a correspondence since that time. Fidel would sometimes include the Tabacalera cigars as a memorial to the wounds we both received from that same combat skirmish. Why one would wish to memorialize wounds escaped me. Fidel's report included stated authorization from the Philippine Government for me to conduct a private and most confidential investigation into the background of the victim Victoria Ver, maiden name Nesbeth, an American with roots in this major city I work in. The deadline for reports on my investigation end would be thirty days from the receipt of this initial CIR. Payment of US 400 dollars a day fee plus reasonable expenses, to include informant coverage, was authorized. Separate per diem was allowed for any overnight expenses. An additional added Confidential report and authorization was to be hand carried to my office by a representative of the Government of the Philippines in due course. I was to report to the representative timely results of my investigation; that this person would also be the party who would make weekly payment to me in US dollars for fees incurred. This same representative would in effect be my direct liaison with Fidel's offices in the Philippines. It was mentioned if I could occasionally allow this representative to assist me directly in the investigation as well, a request I was confident at the time I would not have to honor.
Helga interrupted my reading and was upon me with other mail and reports which needed dictation. She was pressing sixty, but always nicely dressed, smart hairstyle and still had an arresting figure. Her daughter Faith was my lovely and sustaining love interest and a fashion buyer for one of the leading department store chains. Faith was a sex loving Catholic, thank God, if there is one! "Save me the Philippine stamps, Bitsy, and set aside time for dictation on three of these pending case matters, Okay?" Helga asked. "Did Fidel include any cigars? They're little strong for you, you know!"
Helga had a good interest in my well being as her weekly pay check largely depended on it and she was hoping Faith and I would eventually marry, although this would be the second time around for both of us. My divorced ex of now some twenty plus years was living somewhere in the Far West, and I presume still with the guy she eventually ran off with when I came back from the Marines without an arm. Can't blame her, but she was a young hot ticket! Faith's husband Artie had died earlier from the effects of emphysema.
"Yeah, I know, but good cigars like Tabacaleras are hand made 100% tobacco, so what can you expect" I responded, handing her the torn out stamps. "Put on your memory card that a representative from the Philippine Government, the Philippine Constabulary, will be paying us a visit, and send Fidel a letter acknowledging receipt of this stuff. Read it all yourself and send a brief to Creeper for evaluation and feedback as well, O.K.?" Helga was not only an exceedingly sharp secretary with exemplary office management skills, she had a memory that was overwhelmingly accurate and an accounting system which made sure all the office bills were paid in a timely fashion, to include her salary.
"Creeper" was Jimmy Patrone, a retired city detective who ran the best network of productive informants in this great metropolis and internationally after having served thirty years on this City's Metropolitan Police Force. I always paid him reasonably well for his services. He and Helga were a mutual admiration society in their own right thinking they were keeping the operation from my eyes and ears. I pretended not to take notice. Both Helga and Creeper had lost their respective spouses years earlier. "Will do" acknowledged Helga. "You're a little late today Bitsy. I guess the Alibi is taking its toll on you. How you can remain trim with all the fat and cholesterol you ingest at that roach hole, is amazing to me. I have to work hard at keeping my figure while you never exercise, frustrating! By the way, you seem to have a little egg left over on your mustache!" she added, while pointing to the area beneath my nose.
The Alibi as we both knew is the Alibi Restaurant where I have my daily breakfast. The food is good, but the ambiance leaves much to be desired to say the least, especially the little family of roaches that seem to love the garbage cans you can see when the kitchen doors open periodically. "Possibly Helga", I replied. I would never admit to her she might have a case as my stomach was making some sounds. She was right in that my height, weight and general disposition was about the same as when I was in the Marines some twenty years earlier. Must be genes, I guess.
"You have two visitors waiting to see you," she resumed. "Both are knockouts! A mother/daughter team I think. Go by the names Shirley and Patricia Duncan. They have a cute foreign accent, possibly Australian. Appears to be a Domestic Relations matter as best I can gather. You ready for them?" "By all means, show the ladies in and don't bother to record the conversation unless I request you otherwise. They know my fee arrangement and are prepared to sign my authorization and pay a retainer if I accept their case?" "Okay to the first, and yes, to the second, but don't forget to put some time aside for dictation as some of these investigative matters are growing legs and these clients owe us fees." Helga's sore point was always money. "Oh, and I almost forgot to remind you. You have an appointment tomorrow at the Veteran's Administration at nine thirty in the morning to measure for your prosthetic arm device, just in case you forgot."
"You know I haven't. Show the ladies in, Helga."
Helga was right! Both women were stunningly attractive; tall, tan and smartly dressed. They had the aroma of old money around them. The older women, Mrs. Shirley Duncan, perhaps fifty something years old, introduced herself; the other, considerably younger with what appeared to be the most gorgeous legs since Marlene Dietrich, introduced herself as the daughter, Patricia Duncan. They were from Hobart, Tasmania, Australia and had only arrived in the USA less than a week earlier. It appeared they were referred to my office by the Bank of Australia, in Sydney. How the hell that happened is beyond me as I don't think I have any contacts in Australia that I know of other than I helped out on a case in which their branch in this city was involved. Years ago, but perhaps that was the connection. I could not deny, as is the case in any initial meeting with just about anyone, that both seemed a little uncomfortable with viewing a one arm person. After a short period they seemed to adjust however, and proceeded to advise me the following:
Mrs Duncan's husband and the father of Patricia, Peter Duncan, had been reported missing for about a year and could not be located. They had long since reported this fact to the Australian authorities who reported their records for a Peter Duncan, at his offered address in Hobart, indicated this person had departed Australia for the USA within that time frame and had landed and entered the USA at this major city port. A subsequent brief apologetic postcard the women had received in Hobart from him with postmarked this city as well. Mrs Duncan handed me the postcard. Since there was no apparent crime, the Australian authorities suggested they retain a private investigator in the city last indicated he was in, which happened to be this city. Since the authorities could not recommend anyone, the Duncan's sought out their bank, Bank of Australia, for assistance in this regard since much of their large estate was being administered by that bank. At this point I excused myself briefly to advise Helga to note the initial conversation I had completed with the Duncans and to record the conversation I would now be having. Contrary to any law I did not advise the Duncans of this happening.
"Peter is a leading developer in Tasmania, and quite well settled and his leaving was quite unexpected" said Mrs Duncan, once the discussion resumed. "We can't imagine why he left, for what reason or for what purpose. No living family relatives, just us"
"Was their any domestic dispute, a parting of the ways so to speak, another woman involved in his life perhaps?" I customarily asked in such cases, but looking at the two beauties before me I could not do so with any real belief.
'No, Dad was a good father. He didn't drink to excess, steal, curse a lot, or womanize as far as reasonably known", replied Patricia Duncan. I noted Mrs Shirley Duncan did not respond or add to her daughter's comments, which I found to be an interesting aspect.
"Did he or does he gamble; has he a known serious illness?" I routinely followed. This time a collectable response from both: "No!"
"What projects was he last working on and did he have any work contacts, business, relatives, friends, associates, etc, in the USA?" I asked in almost machine gun fashion. "Did he ever previously visit the USA?" added.
Both answered my question, again in unison: "No!"
"As far as work projects", the attractive older Duncan began, "Peter was largely restricted to restoring the 19 Century remains of the Port Arthur Penal Settlement. This was the renown prison to which Britain dispatched its repeat offenders and other hardened criminals. Escapes were rare as Port Arthur lies on a jagged shark infested peninsula, separated by only a narrow neck from the rest of Tasmania. It's a National landmark and is a popular tourist attraction. A lot like your old Alcatraz prison, I would imagine."
There was a lot more to this woman, Mrs Shirley Duncan, which I hoped I would eventually find out.
"Was your husband ever arrested for any crime anywhere that you know of? Has he ever been involved in any controversy or lawsuit anywhere?" I pursued. There was hesitation and I could sense some information which might assist was forthcoming. Had I hit a nerve?
"Peter had in fact testified as a witness in a criminal matter in Hobart last year. A woman was murdered by her husband and the husband alleged Peter was a motivating factor in his lulling his wife. The police released Peter from any charges and the man's conviction followed and he was sentenced to Life Imprisonment." offered Mrs Shirley Duncan, rather sharply.
"Dad had nothing to do with that woman, added Patricia Duncan." The man was a member of the Board of Directors of Dad's company and was always getting the company in some sort of bind. The man was a notorious womanizer and paid for several abortions resulting from his outside affairs. The company helped with most on a very quiet basis to save the reputation of the company, although Dad had trouble going along with this. The victims wife was believed to be an exceptionally good Catholic and endured the pain her husband's cheating caused her with great dignity."
"Will you accept the case and locate Peter for us, and get to the bottom of what this is all about?" requested Shirley Duncan.
"To be perfectly honest with you both, I currently have more work than I need just now. Also, this matter does not have many leads to follow and will take some effort. Tell you what! I'll take the case on a contingency that should I not be able to develop anything in a short period of time, say two weeks, I'll withdraw and recommend you to another investigator. If that's okay, Helga will give you an authorization sheet to sign together with my fee details. Also leave with her your full particulars including your current location and you are free to call daily for a reporting unless I contact you first. Okay?'
They agreed, shook my one remaining hand and after signing with Helga, left the office. What beautiful women! I felt an instant void when they departed. There was something I did not like about the case and my hemorrhoids were acting up, a sure sign of agreement! Since I had agreed on a late lunch with Faith, I advised Helga to send a transcript of the Duncan's recording with collateral details to Creeper and ask him for a full report on anything he can come up with on ALL the Duncans involved, on contingency of course!
"I won't be back the rest of the day Helga. I promise to dictate on those other pending matters after I get back fiom the Veteran's Administration tomorrow ... promise."
"Enjoy your time with my daughter Bitsy, and be a gentleman about it.
"You can bet the mortgage on it!" I responded. "See you later alligator," I added.
"In a while crocodile", she returned with her usual response.
Both of these new cases were somewhat troublesome to me. A lovely American killed by a bullet to her heart; a man who had disappeared for about a year and counting. Did not appear as the more usual open and shut cases I very much prefer handling. But Faith was the more immediate priority Thank God, if there is one!
Chapter Two
Two days had passed since I had encountered those beautiful Aussie gals in my office, and I still had little to go on in the Peter Duncan matter, and was prepared to write the whole thing off. Oddly enough, neither had called the office to obtain the status of the investigation, and I was nonetheless grateful as I had nothing to report and was batting zero. Hopefully, Creeper had something on the Duncan matter. However, it had started out to be a beautiful day in this monster of a city and my reading of the daily horoscope for a Capricorn such as myself, or Monkey in terms of the Chinese Zodiac, indicated four out of the maximum of five stars each, for topics: Love, Money, Mood and Style, respectively. It offered the start of a good day. After having my delicious grease loaded, sugar loaded, fat loaded breakfast at the Alibi Restaurant, together with its usual cucaracha show, and almost two hour fitting at the Veteran's Administration for my eventual prosthetic arm device, I called Helga on my auto-phone to let her know I was coming in and would be there in about ten to fifteen minutes."What happened at the VA?" she asked.
"Not much. Still the usual long wait, the hordes of patients. The arm is coming along nicely." I said. "They use prosthetic sculpturing, molding and casting techniques to create advanced cosmetic effects, like in Hollywood movies today, only with more efficient mechanical involvement. As you know by now, prosthesis is the medical family attempt to replace a missing body part. I'm hopeful, but I lost quite a bit of my arm and many years have passed since then and am not totally certain this will work out", I answered. "Have you heard from Creeper?"
"Yes. I'll fill you in when you arrive. Some strange developments in the Victoria Ver murder!" she added.
I parked at my now private parking place in the rear of the old two floor, long length building, one of the offices of which housed my personally owned small office complex on the principal comer of the top floor. There was no elevator. A restaurant and several small shops comprised the entire ground floor areas fronting the shopping street. Located in the very heart of a principal borough of this city, alongside an active, elevated portion of a last stop city subway train station, it was an ideal magnet business source for the private investigative type business I'm in. The large picture window in my office fronting the station stop allows a multitude of people entering and leaving the station area to view my personal business advertisement, replete with my name and office telephone number, amongst other. Office rule: my office lights remained on 24 hours a day since the train station was in passenger operation 24 hours a day.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from SILHOUETTE by Robert Emmet Grant Copyright © 2009 by Robert Emmet Grant. Excerpted by permission.
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Table of Contents
Contents
PROLOGUE....................ixINTRODUCTION....................xi
(Episode One)....................xi
(Episode Two)....................xvi
CHAPTER ONE....................1
CHAPTER TWO....................9
CHAPTER THREE....................13
CHAPTER FOUR....................29
CHAPTER FIVE....................33
CHAPTER SIX....................45
CHAPTER SEVEN....................55
CHAPTER EIGHT....................61
CHAPTER NINE....................73
CHAPTER TEN....................83
EPILOGUE....................87