The Phantom Photographer: Murder in Marin Mystery - Book 3 (Murder in Marin Mysteries) (8 page)

Michael, watching Marv’s face redden, waited for what seemed like an eternity to see who would be first to break the deafening silence.
 

Finally, Michael did. “Incredible quality, given the low light and the angle I was shooting from, but, a good camera, the right lens, and the proper film speed to handle the lack of light really makes all the difference.”

Those casual words by Michael fully awakened Marv’s ire. “I ought to take this photo and ram it down your throat,” Marv said in a voice that might be described as a stifled scream.

“Easy, big fella,” Michael responded with a cruel smile.

“What were you going to do with these?”

“Well, of course there are a lot of things that I could do, but I think this is the time for us to put our heads together and come to some arrangement that can work for both of us.”

Marv, who was thinking of picking up the fork he had just used moments ago to take another bite of Emilio’s homemade chocolate cake, and ramming it into Michael’s neck, said in a soft growl, “What is it you’re looking for, you little prick?”

In the excitement of the moment Michael decided to up his demand by a hundred dollars and add a unique twist as to how Marv could cover the expense and give him cover for his extortionist demands. “Honestly, I need to supplement my income at the camera shop. Milton’s a great guy to work for, but an extra five hundred dollars a month would really help, so I was thinking it would be terrific if the auto parts business and the chamber could hire me on a monthly retainer, say for two-fifty apiece.”

By this time, Marv was flush with anger, and for a moment said nothing at all.

Michael, like a shark circling its next meal, watched as his target dissolved in a frenzy of frustration.

“Marv, don’t have a stroke over this. I have a dozen different shots of you, all of which could be used at a peep show in San Francisco. Let’s do the smart thing here. You want these photos to go away and be forgotten, and I want a little extra money every month. You’re top dog at the chamber; after the great shots I’ve taken of your business, it can’t be all that difficult to put me on two different retainers, and you can split it any way you like.”

“And suppose I just told you to take a hike, what then?”

“Seriously, Marv, we both know you’re not that dumb. Your marriage would be down the shitter, and from what I hear, your divorce attorney wife could cut you up into little pieces in any settlement. Obviously, your position as manager at the Anderson Auto Parts store will fall apart, and after your dismissal, your standing with the boys and girls at the chamber will go down the toilet as well.
 

“And for what: the satisfaction of telling me to go fuck myself? Come on, man, you’re better than that. You’re smarter than that. This is one of those moments,” Michael said as he leaned in, “when you have to consider the big picture. Make the right choice.”

“And if I should choose to accidentally run you down with my car, how would that be?”

“I suppose being just a couple of years out of college I look pretty damn dumb to you, but trust me, I’m really not that stupid. Don’t you think I’ve got someone ready to send out my collection of Marv and Sandy photos the moment I go missing, or get hit by a car while crossing South Novato Boulevard? Get serious, man. Start thinking with your brain and not your dick. The photos will hang you. Do something stupid and make me disappear, and with what I have on you, who do you think will be suspect number one?”

“Son of a bitch!”

“Call me any name you want. My offer stands. Pay my price now or pay a much bigger price if you tell me to get lost. And, remember, you’ll get a damn good photographer in the bargain. That is, whenever I have the time to be available to meet your photography needs.”

“And when do I start paying your extortion demands?”

“Gosh, you really can get abusive when you don’t have two or three margaritas in you. Okay, I want a check delivered to this PO Box on the first of each month, but never later than the fifth. Since the first is less than a week, and you have some arrangements to make, both at your company and probably at the chamber as well, you can wait and start the following month. Five hundred bucks, and again, I don’t care how you divide it. Just get me the money or everyone in Novato who matters to you gets a full set of, from what I can see, was your finest hour.”

Marv gave the table a bang with his fist.
 

Michael got up to leave and threw down his new business card that had his new company’s name, Michael Marks Photography, along with its post office box.
 

“Make your checks payable to this name on the card, and send it to that PO Box.” Leaning in close to his ear, he whispered, “Don’t screw with me, Marv. You’d be a lot better off to just do as you’re told.”

Marv picked up the card. He was sorely tempted to tear it up and throw the pieces in Michael’s face, but reason took hold of him…the side that knew Michael had him by the short hairs and there was really very little he could do.
 

He would dearly love to bang Michael over the head and bury him in one of a dozen spots he knew in the abundant open space of Marin County. But if it was at all possible that Michael had a backup who would rain photos down upon everyone should Michael disappear, he would be in a far worse position than the one he was in right now. As bad as placing five hundred a month in Michael’s pocket would be, a ruined marriage, a destroyed career, and serving a life sentence in San Quentin would be far worse.

Marv took a deep breath and got up to walk out. “Sir, excuse me,” he heard their waiter say. “When your friend left, he told me you were picking up the check for lunch today.”

“Sure,” Marv said in a defeated tone, as he handed him a card. “I meant to do that; I just forgot. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

CHAPTER
EIGHT

“The place is all yours,” Milton said, as he hurried out the door of the camera shop, leaving Michael to his grand schemes; not just what he had made as of today, but what he could make if he continued adding victims. For now, he was looking at eight hundred a month, starting when Marv’s money was added to Fred’s in the coming weeks. This would make for a total of nearly ten thousand dollars in newly found income every year.
 

While Michael suggested to Marv that if he needed a cover story to help lighten the load of a five-hundred-dollar monthly payment, he could claim Michael did work for the auto parts company and the chamber and get them to pick up part or all of that expense. In truth, Michael could care less. If Marv unwisely chose to have his employer and the chamber pay for his personal misfortune, that was none of his business. Personally, he would continue to bury the money by converting relatively small checks to cash. Through his service to the community’s two largest organizations, he knew enough local bankers that this was relatively easy to do.
 

Working for Milton had become second nature. The real excitement for him now was nurturing the growth of his peculiar business. That meant shifting his attention to the Novato Rotary’s top man, Paul Ablow.

Michael’s concern that Paul would be difficult to track and trap proved to be incorrect. To his surprise, Paul, who lacked the bravado of Fred or Marv, was nearly effortless. For two nights, Michael followed Paul after he closed his store, Paul’s Patio World, located on DeLong Avenue, and then headed straight home.

Perhaps he read Paul wrong. Perhaps he was as trustworthy as a boy scout.
 

But on the third night, as he followed Paul on his usual route home, he observed from a parking spot across the road that Mrs. Ablow was on her way out for the evening. She was carrying what appeared to be an overnight bag and gave Paul a kiss on the cheek as she headed for the carport and, moments later, drove off.
 

Michael sat in his car for another twenty minutes. Bored, and expecting nothing to happen, he thought of picking up a pizza and bringing it home. But, just then, he heard the sound of a good stereo system coming from the direction of Paul’s home.
 
As the sound of a popular Neil Diamond album reached him, Michael thought it wise to wait another thirty minutes to see what, if anything, might happen.
 

Less than fifteen minutes later, a blue Mustang convertible pulled into Paul’s driveway, and a woman, who could not be much older than Michael, popped out. The front porch light revealed that she was wearing a skin-tight orange top and sky blue cutoffs that barely covered her bottom.

Wow, I can’t believe this, Michael thought.

From where his car was parked, he occasionally caught a glimpse of what looked like two people dancing in a dimly lit living room. Twenty minutes after the young woman arrived, the living room lights went out, and Michael was wondering if they had gone into a back bedroom. No matter what film he used, he was not going to catch the action in a room so dimly lit.

But Michael set aside those concerns. He was on a roll, and this was no time to turn away from what might be a lucrative opportunity. There was no logical choice but to pursue the target.
 

He quietly closed and locked the door of his car and started to walk toward the house. He circled around the side, past the kitchen’s sliding door, and came upon the back bedroom. Blessedly, tall box hedges hugged the property on three sides, giving Paul, Michael reasoned, cover from the prying eyes of nosy neighbors. Quickly, he realized that Paul and his girlfriend were at play in one of the back bedrooms. He got as close to the bedroom window as he thought wise, sharpened the focus on his lens, and squeezed off several shots. The light was lower than he would have liked, but he was quite sure he would get the photographic evidence he needed.

As with his other two captures, an evening in the darkroom proved the worth of the time he invested. Once again, his shots captured all the proof he needed that Paul was unfaithful to his wife.

Michael had grown tired of Emilio’s, so he made an appointment to meet Paul at his store just after its seven o’clock closing time, to discuss his company’s photo spread in the next edition of the Chamber Waves newsletter.

Michael went through his well-practiced lead up to the major reveal of a photograph he felt certain Paul was willing to pay dearly to keep his wife from seeing.

“Michael, you really do some wonderful work. Marv told me last month how impressed he was with the photos you did at Anderson’s Auto Parts. Let’s talk about what you can do here to show my store at its best.”

“Great, but before we do, I want to show you one more photo,” Michael said, as he slipped an eight by ten photo of Paul at play with a woman who had to be fifteen or more years his junior.
 

“Wow, what a great shot,” Paul exclaimed, as he marveled at the quality of the photo. “This is really hot! When did you get this?”

“I was on a photo safari in your neighborhood.”

“Looks to me like you were spying.”

“Well, maybe just a little.”

“Are you a peeping tom with that camera of yours? Come on, buddy, tell me the truth now,” Ablow said with a wink and a sly grin.