Blood Money Page 20

  This was the first time that Dr. Cartwright had not been summarily dismissed by Thurston. He just turned and walked out the door. He was at a loss for words. Thurston had even called him “my friend.”

  As he walked alone toward the elevator, he could still feel Thurston’s hand on his shoulder. He stopped to go to the restroom. As he prepared to leave, he hesitated for a minute to straighten his tie. As he looked at his image in the mirror, tears welled up in his eyes. “Daddy,” he said softly, “The President of the United States thinks that Doctor G. Mason Cartwright is a ‘big shot.’ What do you think of that?” He removed a handkerchief from his back pocket, dried his tears and left the room.

  CHAPTER 30

  Special Agents Turner and Eaton walked up to the desk at Peabody’s Gym in Denver. They flashed their shields and ID’s. “How can I help you?” the attendant asked.

  Turner showed him a photo. “We’re looking for this man. We understand that he works out here a lot.”

  “The Monster? Yeah, he’s a regular. He hasn’t been in for about a week, though. His name is Mel Tarkington. He works over at that blood bank company that’s been in the news recently. What’s he done?”

  “Nothing. We just want to talk with him.” Do you mind if we walk around and talk with a few of your customers?”

  “Knock yourselves out, gents.”

  Ten minutes later, the agents were ready to leave. Eaton handed his card to the attendant. “If you should see him or hear anything, we would appreciate it if you would give us a call.”

  “Sure thing, glad to help.” As the agents left, the attendant tore the card in half and tossed it into the wastebasket. Peabody’s gym was Tarkington country.

  CHAPTER 31

  When Mark left Susan’s room, he headed for the airport to return to Centerville. Dennis had arranged for a commuter flight to the Dayton International Airport. From there, he took a cab to his house. Bruce Crandall had agreed to meet him at the office after lunch. It was Brenda’s day for billing, so he planned to speak with her before he met Bruce. She was busy at work when he arrived. “Brenda, it’s been a while. Somehow, we keep managing to miss each other. How have you been?”

  “Hello, Mister Matthews. I’ve been just fine. It looks like you were away for a while. I don’t think I’ve heard from you at all in the past two weeks.”

  “Actually, I was just taking some much needed R & R. All this travel takes its toll. May I interrupt you for a few minutes? I want to run something by you.”

  “Certainly, I was just getting ready to run the billing cycle. Let me sign off and I’ll be ready.”

  A few minutes later, she came into his office. After she was seated, he closed the door and sat down at the desk. “Brenda, I’ve been thinking for some time about adding an associate. Someone who can help me grow the business and be here when I need to be out of town. That seems to be a lot lately. I’m taking on some new clients, and they will require me to do a lot of traveling. Sometimes I’ll be overseas for a time.” He stopped for a minute to gather his thoughts. “I’m also planning on moving our office to that large suite two doors down. It’s been vacant for a while. It has an extra office, and it would be roomier for you, too.” He looked up to see if she knew where the conversation was leading. Apparently she did. “The bottom line is that I’m going to need a full time secretary, and I’m offering the job to you. There will be a big raise in it for you, and it will be a full time with benefits. You won’t have to work those extra jobs any more. What do you think? Are you interested?”

  “I’d have to be crazy not to be. Thank you, Mister Matthews. For a moment there, I thought you were going to let me go. It’s so kind of you to give me the opportunity. Yes, of course I will take it.”

  “You will even have your own computer. No more sharing.”

  “That sounds really great. When does it start?”

  “I have an interview in an hour with a candidate for the Office Manager position. I will be counting on you to help break him in. So that means I want to start this next Monday, if that’s okay with you. If you need me to, I’ll speak to the other companies you do work for.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Matthews. I know that they will all be happy for me. Sometimes I think that they create extra work just to help me out. They’re a great bunch of people. I’ll make sure that they all are covered.”

  “Good. Then be ready to start next week. I’ve already got work orders in for moving our furniture and equipment, so it might be hectic around here for a while.”

  “That won’t bother me a bit. I’m looking forward to it.”

  His next job was to hire an Office Manager to lighten the workload. The man he had in mind was a good friend of his father. He had met him a few times; just casually. When his father died, they had a long conversation after the funeral. Bruce was fascinated with PI work.

  Bruce Crandall was a large man; a recently retired Dayton Police lieutenant. Although he never had any military experience, he had the bearing of a kick-ass marine; a man you didn’t mess with. A lifetime of weight lifting was evident in his well-muscled frame. He had a full head of thick grey hair coifed as a crew cut. He carried himself with a stiff upright posture. He had a large nose, and his ears were too small and very close to his head. He spoke with an accent that was noticeably Midwestern. He showed up right on time.

  “Mark, it’s so good to see you again. I haven’t seen you around town lately. What have you been doing with yourself?”

  “I’ve been traveling a lot. That’s why we need to talk.”

  Bruce was fifty-eight and married for over thirty years. His wife Angelina had been a very successful real estate agent in town when he met her. It was love at first sight. They married six months later. Bruce joined the Dayton Police Force at the age of twenty-one after having worked construction for three years after he graduated from Centerville High School. He played center for their football team. Even though he was named “All State Center” for three consecutive years, he was not good enough to earn a football scholarship, and his parents didn’t have the money for college. He worked construction jobs instead. A year after he and Angelina were married, they were blessed with a son. They named him Shawn. Angelina left her real estate career and he joined the force. Now with Shawn off to Ohio State, she had returned to work part time.

  Bruce took advantage of an opportunity to retire from the force with full benefits. After thirty-five years he now found himself with time on his hands and a yearning to do something meaningful with the rest of his life.

  Mark’s call came at just the right time for him.

  “Do you remember that you and I talked a few times about my business? As I recall, you said that you found private investigating interesting.”

  “Yes, I remember saying that, and I still do.”

  “Well, like I said before, I’m traveling a lot more because of new clients and I need someone who can conduct investigations and keep an eye on the office. I’m ready to move to a larger suite. It has two large offices and a reception area. Brenda, my part time secretary, has agreed to work full time. What I am planning to do is expand the practice. I think you would make a perfect addition to the company. I’m certain that with your police background you would have no trouble getting your PI License.”

  Mark stopped for a minute to catch up with his thoughts. “I seem to be rambling quite a bit, Bruce. What I’m getting at is that I’m going to need an office manager who can also help with the PI workload. I think you would fit in nicely. What do you think?”

  “Well, Mark, from what I can tell so far, I’m very interested. It sounds perfect for me. Of course, I would need to brush up on my computer skills, and I would have to learn exactly what a PI does. I’m sure it’s different than what I see on television. But, yeah, I would be very interested in hearing more.”

  “I was hoping you would say that. Look, it won’t be very different from the case work you had on the force. Only, of course, with us the
client is the boss, instead of the city. Let me go over the kind of work we do here. First, let me assure you that the image of a PI that you have probably formed over years, the one of Sam Spade or Mike Hammer, just doesn’t fit with the real thing. Sure there are some PI’s that specialize in surveillance, divorce and criminal cases, but we generally don’t get involved in those kinds of cases. We don’t have any dead bodies to deal with, or wear wires or even carry a gun, for that matter. I have one, but I’ve never had to use it. If you’re expecting that kind of glitz and glamour, this would be the wrong job for you.”

  “Believe me, Mark, I had enough of that kind of crap while I was on the force. I am not looking for any more of it. That’s why I retired when I had the chance. How about telling me what the job really entails.”

  “Okay, then. The mainstay of my business is doing background searches. Many of my clients are small businesses that don’t have personnel departments to do the checks for them. Even large corporations quite often prefer an outside agency to do their checks for them. When I started, I offered them my services free of charge to demonstrate that I could do the checks better than they could. I picked up close to a dozen paying clients within the first month. Most of the work now is checking references and doing background checks for mid-to-large sized corporations. Another area that I’m heavily involved in is data search. That involves finding out information that the client cannot or prefers not to pursue on their own. Most of these clients are attorneys that are searching for witnesses or evidence that will corroborate or dispute testimony. I substitute what used to be known as “dumpster diving” with massive searches of databases. Thanks to my four years with the government in Washington, I can find out just about anything that is in the public realm, and often even gain access to computer systems that are not.” Mark hesitated for a minute to give Bruce a chance to catch up on the notes he was taking.

  “Are you still interested, after all that?”

  “You bet I am. The more you tell me, the more fascinating it gets.”

  “Well then, let me tell you the rest. I don’t, as a rule, work with a contract unless the client insists. That happens mostly with corporations. A handshake closes most deals. Brenda uses interview notes to set up the files we need in Quick Books. Then, she relies on activity and expense reports to take care of billing.” Mark let him finish his notes before wrapping it up. “Bruce, I am very confident that you will have no difficulty catching on. Now, as for compensation. I can pay you fifty thousand a year to start. There will be no medical. I will only withhold for Centerville, State and Federal taxes, and for Social Security. How does that sound to you?”

  Bruce hadn’t expected so much. He mentally added Mark’s offer to his police pension. He would be making more that he had ever made in his life. He already had medical benefits for life with his retirement package, so he didn’t need any of those. This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  “It sounds great, Mark, when do you need me?”

  “Well, I was hoping that you would start on Monday. That would give us a good head start before we have to move.”

  “What time?”

  “Tell you what, why not have breakfast with me Monday at Denny’s? Say about eight.”

  “I’ll be here. Thanks, Mark, you won’t regret it.”

  “I know I won’t, Bruce. It feels right to me. I know that you’ll do a great job.”

  As soon as Bruce left his office, Mark called Dennis to let him know that he had accepted the job offer.

  CHAPTER 32

  Mel Tarkington sat in a cafeteria in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He looked nothing like the picture the FBI was circulating. His brown hair was now blond. His face now sported a full beard, also colored blond. He took to wearing baseball caps that represented the town or city he was in at the moment. Mel took out two clippings from The Cleveland Plain Dealer. They showed signs of being folded and unfolded many times. Several lines in each were highlighted with a yellow marker.

  The first reported a shooting during a robbery attempt in the parking lot of a business complex in Hudson.

  The victim, Susan Harrigan, who owns a local business, was shot in the shoulder when she fought off the robber. She is expected to be hospitalized for at least three months due to complications resulting from the bullet shattering her shoulder blade. The robber has not been apprehended.

  The second reported a shootout between the FBI and two men in a Cleveland suburb during a recent drug bust.

  According to reports, both men, John Portman of Denver, and a local dealer, Richard Schaeffer of Cleveland, were killed during the raid.

  Mel was certain that the stories were connected. To him, it was obvious that the FBI was engineering the news. He checked both the Denver and Cleveland papers for the next two weeks. There were no follow-ups to either story. He called Peabody’s Gym and found out that the FBI had been around asking questions regarding his whereabouts. Let them spin their wheels…he intended to stay undercover for as long as it took to do what he had to do. Now that John was dead the money they had stashed away in a safe deposit box and several accounts in the Cayman Islands was all his. He was set for life.

  John’s death nagged at him, however. There was a principle here. He knew Susan Harrigan was responsible. Portman had told him when they spoke last that she had confessed stealing the file and ratting on them. Before he disappeared off the face-of-the-map, he was going to settle the score. The bitch had to pay for meddling in their affairs and blowing the whistle on them. Mel calculated that his premature departure from the NRBA resulted in a personal loss of an additional several million dollars he could have made over the next several years.

  Through contacts, he knew that her hospital room was guarded around the clock. He expected that this would continue as long as she required medical care. He would be patient as he slowly made his way across the country to Hudson, Ohio. Traveling without a schedule was pleasant this time of year. As long as he was cautious, he had all the time in the world.

  CHAPTER 33

  Ramping up for the move and Bruce’s training was keeping Mark busy. He was signing some letters from the “IN” box when the phone rang. Brenda buzzed him.

  “There is a Mrs. Barth on the phone. She’s the person I sent your invoice to at Thurston Electronics.”

  “Yes, I know her. Did she say what she wanted?”

  “No, she didn’t. She just said that she needed to speak with you personally.”

  “Okay, Brenda, put her through.”

  “Mrs. Barth. It’s good to speak with you again. What can I do for you, today?”

  “Good afternoon, Mister Matthews. Mister Thurston asked me to set up an appointment with you for nine on Saturday morning at his home in Beavercreek. Can you make it?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose. Did he say what it would be about?”

  “No sir, he did not,” she replied.

  “Is there a problem with my invoice?”

  “I really couldn’t say, Mister Matthews.”

  “Well, I guess I can be there, but I would feel a lot better if I knew why.”

  “I understand that, Mr. Matthews. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

  Mark took down the address and directions. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the way Thurston conducted business with everyone, or was it just with him? He couldn’t believe that under the circumstances he would be challenging his expenses. He estimated what Susan’s expenses eventually would be. It would be a while, yet, before she can put it together for him. He hoped it wasn’t that. He really hated it when clients nit-picked on expenses.

  Saturday morning he arrived at “The Ridges,” an exclusive gated community in Beavercreek. During the twenty-minute drive from Centerville he tried to imagine what Thurston’s house would look like. This was only one of his three residences. He had one in Scottsdale and another in the Florida Keys. Mark sensed that he was about to see the most lavish house that he had ever set eyes upon. The adventure started with h
is arrival at the “gate.” This was not one of those electronic gates where you announced yourself and were buzzed in. This gate was manned with a uniformed guard. Mark couldn’t tell if he was carrying a gun. The guard checked to see if his name was on the guest list. He recorded the license plate number and gave him directions to Thurston’s house. He tipped his hat and said, “You have a good day, Mr. Matthews.”

  “You have one, too.”

  Each of the thirty homes that made up “The Ridges” had a unique “Ridge” name as an address. He drove up the winding trail to “Carlton Ridge” and his meeting with Peter Thurston. The road was lined with mature maple and horse chestnut trees, interrupted every thirty or more feet by a pole with a security camera on top. As he passed each “Ridge,” he could not help but wonder how much houses like these cost. He would bet that at a minimum the price would be no less than three million dollars. Real estate taxes alone would probably be more than his net for a year. Mark followed the guard’s directions until he came across a non-descript wooden sign with the lettering “CARLTON RIDGE” burned into it. He pulled into the circular driveway, which was made of paver blocks. It was complemented by a two-foot high stone wall on both sides. At the end of the wall he pulled into a parking space next to a late model black BMW.

  As he got out of his car, Thurston rushed up to him with his hand extended. “Mark, I am so glad you could make it. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

  “No, sir, Mrs. Barth’s directions were right on the money.” He intended no pun.

  “Please call me Peter, Mark. After what we’ve all been through together, we should not be so formal.”