Once a Mutt (Trace 5) (15 page)

“You’re a star,” she said.

He willed his eyes to open. “What’s that you say?”

“There’s a big story in there.” She perched on the side of the bed, opened the newspaper, and read, ’Lt. Sam Roscoe of Westport police said the major credit for breaking the murder and fraud case should go to Devlin Tracy, an investigator for the Garrison Fidelity Insurance Company, who had been looking into the spurious Paddington insurance claim for the past week.”

Trace vaulted out of bed. “Time to go,” he said. “How fast can you pack?”

“Hold on. What’s the hurry?” Chico said. “I like this town.”

“That story,” Trace said. “There are probably a lot more just like it in a whole bunch of papers.”

“So what?”

“So this. So my ex-wife sees it, and before I know it, she’s camping outside our room with What’s-his-name and the girl. Time to get back to Las Vegas.”

“That doesn’t frighten me,” Chico said.

“And my mother. She might see it and decide to come up here and visit me.”

“I’ll call the airlines,” Chico said.

Driving to the airport after dictating a brief statement to a police stenographer, Trace told Chico, “I want you to know that I think it was real nice of you to offer me that money to help with the restaurant. Even if I won’t need it now because of my fee.”

“Thank you,” Chico said. “When I talked to Sarge, he said you sounded really depressed. I thought if it meant that much to you, I’d better help.”

“Well, thank you,” Trace said. “You justified my faith in humanity.”

“What are friends for?” Chico said. And a few seconds later, she said, “But I’m just glad that I won’t have to sink any of
my
money down that dry well.”

At the airport, Trace finally got around to calling Walter Marks.

“Where have you been?” Marks demanded “I’ve been calling you for days.”

“Hey, read the papers,” Trace said. “I’m a big hero. Garrison Fidelity is famous. At my press conference, I said I owe all my success to you.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“Groucho, don’t you think some congratulations are in order?” Trace asked.

“For what?”

“For what? For the Paddington case. For saving the company two million dollars,” Trace said.

“For bullshit,” Marks shouted.

“What?”

“Paddington’s dead. You proved that, I guess. He died in an accident. So that means we’re gonna have to pay two million to somebody. If not his wife, probably some goddamn animal shelter. We’ll just have to wait till his will is read. All because you had to go and prove that he was dead.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

“I didn’t want Paddington dead,” Marks said. “I wanted him alive and a fraud. Dead, he costs us two million. Trace, I hate you. We’re gonna have to pay.”

“Goddammit, Groucho, I saved you from paying the wrong person. You want people to think Gone Fishing is an easy mark?”

“Well, you saved us nothing, don’t forget that.”

“You think I did all this work for dogshit?” Trace snapped.

“I don’t know what you did it for. Not for us, that’s for sure.”

“I’m sending you a bill for my fee,” Trace said.

“Keep it small,” Marks said.

“I’m sending you a bill, and if you give me any static, I’m going to the press. I’m a media hero now, Groucho. I’ll make you look like a fool. Well, God already did that. I’ll think of something.”

“Just keep the bill reasonable,” Marks said.

Trace hung up and returned to his seat in the waiting room next to Chico.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

“The usual,” Trace said. “Groucho’s trying to chisel me again. Nothing to worry about.”

Back in their Las Vegas condominium, Chico checked the telephone tapes and told Trace he had a message from his friend Eddie in New Jersey.

Trace called him and said, “How much is it now, you goddamn bandit?”

“I’ve got good news,” Eddie said.

“Let me sit down first. Okay, go ahead,” Trace said.

“I thought about what you said, so I talked to a new contractor. Trace, we’ve got termites.”

“I’m waiting for the good news.”

“The building’s not structurally sound,” Eddie said.

“I’m still waiting.”

“But the contractor who found the termites, he wants to buy it anyway. He says he’s got a lot of guys out of work and he can fix it for himself on the cheap.”

“Where’s the good news?” Trace said.

“He offered to buy us out,” Eddie said.

“How much profit will I make?”

“He’ll give us ninety cents on the dollar,” Eddie said.

“That means I’m out of this deal but I lose four thousand dollars?” Trace said.

“That’s right.”

“That
is
good news,” Trace said. “Send me my check right away.”

“I will.”

“And, Eddie, if you run into any more deals…”

“Yes,” Eddie said.

“File them where the sun doesn’t shine.”