Chapter 34

   Clearly, Max Faraday was not happy to see Nik Friday. “What the hell do you want? I thought I answered all of your questions.”

  “Well, look at it this way: I didn’t bring Columbo.”

   That earned a smirk. “All right, you have five minutes. Let’s go into the living room.”

   As they climbed the stairs, Nik asked, “This may be none of my business, but exactly what type of legal work does Ted Clayton do for you?”

  “It is truly none of your business.”

  “The reason I ask is, he works for a family law firm. You don’t seem the family man to me.”

  “I’m not, but certain family members of mine are not as well off as I am, so I help them out.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “No. Want a drink?”

  “Ordinarily I’d take one, but I need to keep a clear mind tonight.”

  “Mind if I take one?”

  “Your pleasure, your place.”

   Faraday started to fix himself a whiskey sour. “Is this visit regarding that man DeBartolo?”
  “It is.”

  “So whatever I may be involved with in terms of Theodore Clayton is purely peripheral and out of the shadows of your case, correct?”

   Nik suppressed a grin. “You’re asking me to ignore whatever you may say to answer my question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Agreed.”

  “My sister and her husband have tried for years to have a child, but to no avail. They went about with the artificial insemination, and whatever other methods were possible, but nothing worked. So, adoption was the next possible route. No agencies were helping with what they wanted, if you get what I mean.”

   Nik shook his head.

  “There are lots and lots of children in need of loving families. Unfortunately, the majority of them are not white. My sister and her man are, well, wanting of the vast minority.”

  “They want white.”

  “And nothing else. You know, they tried every agency in this area, and quite a few others in the country. Nobody bit.”

  “I see. Somewhere in the mix, Jefferson-Brown popped their head up.”

  “The first ones who offered to find a baby through slightly less-than-legal means. I wasn’t crazy about the idea, but I love my sister.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Ted Clayton and I first met over a month ago.”

  “I see.” The conversation about Mark Robertson flashed in Nik’s mind. “Let’s get back to Clayton borrowing your yacht.”

  “I guarantee it will be the last favor I do for him outside of our business deal.”

  “Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, at least not this soon, but Mr. DeBartolo was not the victim’s name.”

  “Who was he?” Faraday asked as he sipped his drink.

  “His name was Damien Tyler. He was a professional hitman, used to work for the mob in New York.”

   Faraday almost choked on his drink. “What the hell was Clayton doing letting that man use my boat?!”

  “The crime lab and I think Tyler may have been set up to be killed. We also found out that Tyler may have been involved in an assassination a few weeks ago. See where the timing is interesting?”

   Faraday sat down at his desk, stunned. “Detective, I run a casino, a legal vice in this state. I’ve dealt with my share of shady sons of bitches through the years, and I knew Ted Clayton was no exception. I suppose this shouldn’t surprise me.” He looked squarely into Nik’s eyes. “I am no criminal, and I had no knowledge of this. I just wanted to help my sister.”

  “I know that.”

  “What should I do?”

  “First of all, keep dealing with Clayton. If our theory is right, he could turn dangerous, especially if he can find hitmen to do his dirty work, whatever that work is. If you dissolve the business deal now, he might get suspicious of you.” Nik suddenly had a thought. “When you first talked to him, did your boat come into the conversation?”

   Faraday shrugged. “It was on the boat. We talked on the phone, then he came up and we talked business out on the lake.”

   Nik nodded. “I see. Just one more question.”

  “Your time was up anyway. What is it?”

  “Where was your yacht parked, so to speak? What space?”

  “Section 12, dock A.”

  “Thank you. Oh, and another thing. If Mr. Clayton asks, the police never talked to you.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you sold the boat to a bounty hunter from El Paso, named Nicolas Viernes a week ago; though, I wouldn’t bring up the bounty hunter part right up front, if he does ask.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

   Nik took a business card from his wallet and gave it to Faraday. “I’m not a true cop. I got into some bad business in El Paso last year and a buddy on the Reno Police, he’s a captain, managed to rig me with a badge here until the heat blew over.”

  “You’re a bounty hunter?”

  “I find people, so that helped make me a good, though fake, detective.”

  “Does that snot-nosed partner of yours know?”

  “Nope. He just thinks I’m a sarcastic mentor. I’m gonna mention this conversation to him, and request he doesn’t bother you. There’s nothing else you can tell us anyway.”

  “You going to tell him everything?”

  “Yep, though I’ll say you’re an only child.”

   Faraday smiled. “I owe you.” He then frowned. “I need to ask you this: why are you being so generous if you’re a mere bounty hunter in hiding?”

  “Franco DiGarcola.”

   Faraday’s eyes widened in surprise. “I haven’t heard that name in almost ten years. How did you know him?”

  “Before I began freelancing, I worked for the agency you hired to track DiGarcola down. He owed you a ton of money, remember? I tracked him down, and that was my first paycheck as a bounty hunter. Call it a sentimental favor.”

  “Using bounty hunters to track down that thief was the last thing I wanted, but the police were of no use.”

  “I appreciate the faith, even if it was reluctant. We are even now. Good night, Mr. Faraday.”

Chapter 33

   Nik was not usually the worrier. On this evening, however, he could not shake a bad feeling. After the meeting with Roman Wells, he sent Dwayne home to rest. After all, the kid was going to make the transaction, since it was the kid’s case. Nik had returned to headquarters, seeing the boss about the possibility of leaving sooner than expected. He had stayed in Reno much longer than he had intended to. Not that there had been much of a choice, but he wanted to get the hell out of Nevada. It wasn’t his kind of place.

   At 10:00, Ben Whitney, one of the forensic specialists, approached Nik at his desk. “Got a sec?”

  “I might. What’s up?”

  “We found two bullets in him.”

   Nik looked up from the newspaper, which he hadn’t read a word of. “Why wasn’t I told?”

  “You guys were busy with the apartment search.”

  “Find anything?”

  “Maybe. Whether it’ll do you any good is another story.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The bullets seem to have come from a high-powered sniper rifle. We won’t know for sure until we actually find the weapon, but it seemed a reasonable guess.”

  “You mean as opposed to a slug from a revolver?”

  “Of course.”

   Nik sat back in his chair. “Let’s say you have it right. Anything else?”

  “Nothing else so far.”

   Nik tapped his desk in thought. “At what angle did the bullets enter the body?”

  “Looked to be roughly four or five degrees below the horizontal, from what I remember of the notes.”

   Nik stood up slowly, a frown forming on his lips. “We had to have fuel brought to that yacht to get it back to the marina.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Meaning the boat was dry when it was found.”

  “You should be a detective.”

  “Shut up. I think we’ve been looking at the crime scene wrong.”

  “You haven’t been looking at it much at all, we have.”

  “What do you mean?”

   Whitney sighed. “Look, Friday, you guys have been doing what you’re supposed to do, track down suspects. You just need to check with us more often.”

  “Point made.”

  “Now, how should we be looking at the crime scene?”

  “You tell me.”

  “All right. Nothing is 100% yet, and that’s because it took too long for the body to be discovered. We do have a time of death, though.”

  “Which is?”

  “Exactly five days ago at around 5:00p.m.”

  “Okay, that in the file yet?”

  “A few hours ago.”

  “Good. Next?”

  “Given the type of ammunition we found, we think Tyler was shot from shore, and the boat just drifted. It’s also our theory that Tyler just kept going, like he expected it.”

   Nik slowly nodded. “I think you’re right. He just kept the motor going, and he was probably dead when it was on. When it ran out of fuel, well, it just ran out of fuel.”

  “But when the yacht was boarded by you, the engine was turned off.”

  “Then he found a nice, quiet place to die in the middle of the lake.”

  “Sure. Now, here’s what blows a hole in our guesswork: if he was shot from shore, a bullet couldn’t have gone through him from that distance.” A smile was on Whitney’s lips.

  “So think again.”

  “We have.”

  “And?”

  “Can you figure it out?”

   Nik sighed in exasperation. “Look, I chase em, I don’t analyze em.”

  “The bullets the divers found weren’t from this case.”

  “I see. So this entire conversation has been a waste of time.”

  “No, we still like the theory, and that’s why we need your help.”

  “How?”

  “What space was that yacht moored in prior to going into the lake?”

  “I don’t know….but Max Faraday does.”

Chapter 32

At 6:50, Nik and Dwayne were seated at a dark corner booth at the Tony Roma’s, located at the back of one of the casinos. Seeing how dark the restaurant was in general, Nik Friday understood why the mystery man had chosen the place, and figured he had done business there before.

   Dwayne looked in his left shirt pocket. “You sure this bug will catch it all?”

  “If your’s doesn’t, mine will.”

  “Do I even want to know how you have this stuff?”

  “I was a bounty hunter, remember? These make for easy tracking.”

   Dwayne looked at the menu, a slightly puzzled look on his face. “He’s making a long trip for this.”

  “Yeah? What makes you think he made a trip?”

  “You think he’s been here?”

  “That camera’s signal could only work from so far. He was watching locally.”

  “Then he’s lying. I don’t know if I like this.”

  “For only a thousand, neither do I.”

  “So do you want to get out of here?”

   Nik’s eyebrows went up in amazement. “Whoa! You’re the one who wanted to keep this case going. Why the change of heart?”

  “I haven’t changed heart. I want to know who killed Damien Tyler and why. I don’t know, it’s just something I have to see through, prove something to myself, I guess. But something about this meeting stinks.”

   From behind them, voice boomed. “It certainly does!”

   The two cops looked to see a tall, bald man who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He was dressed in white pants, black silk shirt and a black suit jacket. He was slightly overdressed for the meeting, but Nik figured it was probably the man’s usual attire. He certainly had on a strong aftershave or cologne. The man took a seat directly between the two officers and put a folder on the table. “There is your sample.”

   Nik eyed the folder, which was very thin, practically empty. “That’s worth our time?”

  “Take a look for yourself,” the man said.

   Dwayne grabbed it slowly. “No fee to see?”

  “This is your free sample.”

   Nik still eyed the folder. “No anthrax around the edges of that?”

   The man chuckled a low, humorless chuckle. “Now why would you ask that?”

  “I get the feeling you’re in the same business as Tyler.”

  “Yes I am, but I don’t kill unless there is a contract out on you. Please, gentlemen, let’s not waste time arguing over a lot of petty crap. Look at what I gave you.”

   Dwayne was way ahead of him, already going through the few pages that were there. “I don’t get it,” he murmured. “This is all about some unsolved shooting in Nye County.”

   The man nodded. “Yes. I personally know that Tyler was on assignment there when it happened, about three months ago.”

   Nik barked a laugh. “Oh, I see! Your word makes it so. Well, we need more convincing than that.”

   Dwayne shook his head. “Maybe not.”

  “What?” Nik asked.

  “Part of this is the police report and investigation notes.”

   The man shrugged. “I have contacts in the Vegas Police Department, they just do not know they are contacts.”

   Nik eyed the contents more closely. “What does it say?”

  “Some nobody named Mark Robertson was killed on route 375 and then castrated. In the course of the investigation, an employee of Jefferson-Brown was approached, but not officially questioned as a suspect.”

   Nik shrugged, then looked at the man. “Well, you get what you pay for, I guess. That doesn’t tell us anything. What’s this Stalk project you mentioned?”

   The man smiled thinly. “That’s where a grand is paid.”

  “No, first you tell us how this sample ties into anything remotely interesting.”

   The man’s smile grew just a bit in respect. “All right. What does the word stalk bring to mind?”

  “Stalkers, celery.”

  “So true.”

  “And?”

  “Let’s say you need to watch what you eat.”

  “Food poisoning? Will you speak English?! None of it makes sense.”

   The man nodded. “It didn’t to me before I saw it with my own eyes. Trust me, it’s big, and it’ll make nationwide papers if it gets into the public.”

   Nik sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “All right, I admit you have me curious. But we’re Reno cops, somehow I doubt the folks down south will let us piss on their lawn.”

  “If you’re investigating a death that happened here, you’re entitled, I imagine.”

   Dwayne looked closely at the man. “Tell us the truth. Did Damien Tyler really kill this guy?”

  “He told me as much, but I am not 100% sure. I was on another assignment when he came back to Reno. He left me a message but by the time I got back to him it was too late, he’d already been shot.”

   Nik asked, “When did he come back?”

  “About three weeks ago.”

  “What was his message about?”

  “He said he’d found dynamite.”

  “That’s deep,” Nik said dryly.

  “He wasn’t clear about it, but he implied that his employer had gone too far.”

   Dwayne smiled. “And somehow Ted Clayton, employee of Jefferson-Brown, is here within days of the shooting.”

   Nik nodded at Dwayne. “I don’t know what that law firm does, but it sounds like Mr. Clayton has a few questions to answer.” He turned back to the man. “What’s your name?”

  “Roman Wells.”

  “You’re a hitman?”

  “I prefer to be known as an independent entrepreneur. I don’t just kill.”

  “That must light up a resume.”

  “I know what my skills are, so I use them to the fullest.”

  “So long as our professions don’t cross on a legal basis, Wells.”

  “No reason why they should.”

   Nik nodded. “So, we give you a thousand, then what?”

  “A key to a room in a Las Vegas storage facility.”

  “And this room contains?”

  “Heavy stuff.”

  “You seen it?”

  “Some of it. Damien mailed me the key. He knew somehow they were coming after him.”

  “Who?”

  “The room answers all.”

   Dwayne banged the table. “Clayton must have been looking for the key here.”

   Wells nodded. “Tyler wasn’t completely stupid. He must have known he was going to be killed. The time in the mob gave him experience.”

    Nik shrugged. “He’s dead now. And if he knew that was going to happen, why did he bother with the key at all?”

   Wells shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

  “From the guy’s past, I’d say he didn’t have a huge code of ethics.”

  “You’re right, he didn’t. Problem is, Stalk scared the shit out of him. If this reaches the public, the whole idea will scare the shit out of a lot of people.”

   Nik leaned forward. “All right, enough cryptic bullshit. You have your thousand, guaranteed. I want to know what Stalk is.”

  “I can’t say. I’m just the messenger.” Wells glanced at his watch. “Look, I have to get going.” He stood up. “We can’t do the exchange here.”

  “Where then?” asked Dwayne.

  “Midnight, my penthouse suite at Silver Legacy. Suite 3500.”

   Nik whistled. “Swank place to stay. You guys make that good a living?”

  “At times, Detective, at times.” Wells waved. “Midnight, gentlemen.” He left.

   As Wells walked away, Dwayne watched him. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know yet, partner.”

  “One thing seems strange to me.”

  “Just one?”

  “For starters, anyway. You asked him his name.”

  “So?”

  “He said it like it was inconsequential, like it didn’t matter whether we knew or not.”

   Nik looked at the exit door. “I don’t think it does, either.”

Chapter 31

      Nik paused for a moment before speaking again. “Project Stalk?”

“Yes, Detective. Sounds too good to pass up, doesn’t it?”

 “No, it sounds like a bad sci-fi movie. I don’t pay money for catchy phrases, and neither does the department.”

  “So we’re at a standstill?”

  “Maybe not. You know why most vendors fail at their profession?”

  “Why?”

  “Because they don’t believe in free samples.”

  “I don’t believe in anything free, Detective. It goes beyond my philosophy for doing what I do.”

  “$100.”

  “For?”

  “A bit of information my partner and I can verify. Once we verify it, then we’ll start talking higher figures.”

  “I need a thousand. Believe me, the information I have is potentially damaging for many people. It is useless to me, but the police will find it most useful. A thousand is quite reasonable.”

  “So is $100 for a taste.”

   A long pause ensued. “Very well. You and Detective Behrens meet me at Tony Roma’s tonight at seven, and bring the paltry sum you mentioned.”

   “In San Francisco?”

  “No, I will make a trip to Reno. Be on time, Detective Friday.” With that, the line went dead.

   Dwayne’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “What did this guy say?”

  “Nothing yet, but for $100 he’ll say a few words, plus eat some ribs.” Nik also silently wondered how the man knew his and Dwayne’s names. Chances were, this guy was in Reno, and had been following the two cops.

  “What?”

   Nik turned to Dwayne. “Ever heard of Project Stalk?”

  “No.”

  “He has, and I think our victim knew about it, too, whatever it is.” Nik grinned. “I think we can extend the case just a bit longer.”

   Dwayne grinned back. “You’re convinced?”

  “Yeah. Of what, I don’t know.”

  “Take a stab. I do it all the time.”

   Nik sat down. “All right. It sounds like Mr. Tyler was sitting on information, maybe this Project Stalk, whatever that is. At some point either before or after he was killed, a friend of his got hold of it. I suspect it was before.”

   Dwayne began to pace. “Project Stalk, what the hell is it?”

  “It does sound curious, and a bit stupid. What makes it even more curious is a law firm’s possible involvement. It sounds big. Then again, that’s what you’ve been saying all along. You’re an infection, you know that?”

  “It’s scary to think an assassin might have been employed by a law firm!”

   Nik looked at the floor in thought, then shook his head. “Doesn’t look promising for us if we get involved, Dwayne.”

  “Why?”

  “It sounds to me like Damien Tyler was blackmailing someone in that firm, and the injured party decided to kill him. Now someone else has the information, and is offering to sell it to us. Question: what if this guy is also in contact with the firm? These aren’t our garden variety dumbass perps.”

  “What if? We have to find out what this project is all about sooner or later.”

  “At seven at Tony Roma’s.”

  “What was the guy’s name?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Did he describe himself?”

  “No.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We sit, order, and wait.” Nik paused, then leaned in to Dwayne’s ear. “And with a wire,” he whispered.

Chapter 30

   At 7:00a.m. the next morning, the landlord at Damien Tyler’s apartment building let Nik and Dwayne into the murder victim’s apartment after showing him the warrant. The two cops saw immediately that Tyler apparently did not spend a lot of time there. It was a studio, with a small kitchen, and a living room that doubled as a bedroom, with a couch that looked as though it was also used as the bed. There were no papers or junk on the floor. There was a 13” television VCR combo on a stand opposite the couch. A telephone was on the kitchen counter. To round it all off, there was a dresser with a laptop computer sitting on top of it.

   Dwayne took a few minutes to look over the place, then shook his head. “So much for a lead. There’s nothing here to signify a life.”

   Nik shrugged. “Makes sense to me, if he was an assassin.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “These people move on a lot, and often have to change their home bases, such as they are.” Nik turned to the landlord, a short, hunched-over man in at least his early seventies. “How long had he been here?”

  “Less than a month.”

  “And how long of a lease did he sign?”

  “I go on a month-by-month.”

   Nik chuckled. “Not a place where a lot of kids grow up, huh?”

  “Not really. I take cash only.”

   Nik nodded. “That fits.”

   Dwayne shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

  “See, back when I was a bounty hunter, I sometimes tracked these kinds of assholes down. They like to find places to hole up that don’t require credit checks. Credit checks can be traced, and these people don’t want to be traced.”

   The landlord shook his head. “You said he was an assassin?”

   Nik grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Is he gonna come after me?”

  “Not unless you have a contract out on you.”

  “I don’t think I do, can’t be sure nowadays.”

  “If you did, you’d be dead.”

   Dwayne walked around the small apartment some more, then rested his eyes on the computer. “You think anything’s on there?”

  “Turn it on and see.”

   While Dwayne played with the laptop for a few minutes, Nik dismissed the landlord, saying they’d find their way out. He then walked around the apartment a bit more, but not exactly at the things Dwayne had found. It was true that Damien Tyler kept the apartment sparsely furnished. Of course, there wasn’t that much room for furnishings. However, there did seem to be room for something in the upper corner of the ceiling, near the front door.

   A black, slightly shiny orb had been placed there. A camera! Nik looked at Dwayne, who had finally accessed the computer. “Smile!”

   Dwayne looked up. “Why?”

  “You’re on Candid Camera.”

   Dwayne finally noticed the camera and smiled. “Who’s on the other end?”

   Almost on cue, the phone rang. Nik shrugged. “The phone company doesn’t know he’s dead yet, I’m sure.” He went over and picked it up. “Hello?”

   A deep, stern voice replied. “I am on the other end.”

  “So there’s a microphone in here, too?”

  “Of course.

   Nik smiled. The dead end didn’t seem so dead anymore. “You a friend of Mr. Tyler’s?”

   There was a low chuckle. “You learned his real name, very good. Most would have not looked beyond DeBartolo.”

  “You know us Reno police, we’re on top. So, who are you?”

  “My name isn’t important.”

  “Fine, shitbrain. I’ll just call you whatever comes to mind.”

   A pause. “No need for you to be unpleasant, detective.”

  “I’m not being unpleasant, fuckbird. I just like to know who I’m talking to.”

  “A friend of Mr. Tyler’s, with a question.”

  “And that is?”

  “Why are the police searching his apartment?”

  “The donut shop is closed, that’s why!”

  “Please, I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was…entrusted with his life, so to speak.”

  “Speak in English.”

   Another pause. “Damien was afraid that someone was after him.”

  “Turns out he was right.”

  “Yes. Whatever he had that you might want, I have it.”

   Nik nodded, knowing that already. “You don’t say. And why would your buddy entrust all this to you?”

  “I was his friend, his only friend. Are you looking to solve his murder?”

  “The thought had struck me and my partner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the fucking donut shop is closed, and we’re bored to death!”

   The voice cleared itself. “I never thought the police would come there. I expected the other visitor, though.”

  “And who was that?”

  “Mr. Ted Clayton.”

   Nik turned to look at Dwayne. So the kid was onto something after all! “The lawyer?”

  “Correct.”

  “Did he find anything?”

  “No, he didn’t. He even pored over that laptop like an idiot for hours, found nothing, as there is nothing to find.”

   Nik said, “Hold on,” then looked at Dwayne. “Put that thing down before you become an idiot!”

   Dwayne’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Never mind.” Nik turned back to the phone. “So, you have information that could help us solve Damien Tyler’s murder?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Will you give it to us?”

  “It does me no good to keep it.”

  “Are you in town?”

  “No, I am in San Francisco.”

  “That camera is feeding you our pics from that much of a distance?”

  “Technology is three steps ahead of mankind.”

  “I see. And why is this place wired for picture and sound?”

  “Like I said, he entrusted me with his protection, and now I am looking after his interests.”

  “You don’t say! Let’s get back to what you have.”

  “This data I am in possession of is too good to waste. It goes beyond what you think is a simple murder.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You will have to see.”

  “Bullshit. I know this game.”

   A slight pause, then a sigh. “What game would you refer to?”

  “The kind where you offer something big, then demand a lot of money, and the big thing turns out to be horseshit.”

   A chuckle. “Money is certainly part of the bargain. I don’t know how big the information is, but from what I’ve seen of it, there’s a cover-up of more than one crime.”

   Nik looked at the receiver for a moment, not sure whether to continue this or not. Only the mention of Ted Clayton had kept him on the line this long. “I need to hear more before I hang up.”

  “Very well. Part of the documentation is a curious phrase on a faded piece of paper.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Project Stalk.”

Chapter 29

   Before leaving the station to go home, Nik stopped by the captain’s office. The light was on, but the door was closed. He knocked lightly.

  “Come in!”

   Nik opened the door to see his boss poring over reports, piles of them. “Long night?”

  “And getting longer!” the superior officer replied testily. “What are you doing here? I thought you were catching up on sleep.”

  “My partner asked me in, he has a theory on the case.”

  “And what does he think?”

  “Well, he has pretty good evidence that the victim on the yacht wasn’t that much of a victim in life.”

  “Oh?” The captain put down the report he was reading, hoping for a good story to distract him. “Do tell.”

  “Seems he was a former mob hitman, long retired but maybe doing work on the side.”

  “And maybe, just maybe the man’s profession had to do with his murder.”

   Nik sat down. “Is my partner crazy? Or am I crazy?”

  “I think spending time with you will do that to anyone. And you’ve always been crazy. My question: is he getting what I want him to get from you?”

  “Remind me what the hell is he supposed to get from me?”

  “Your tracking skills.”

  “Oh. I don’t know yet.”

  “If he’s chasing this case down at this time of night, my guess is he’s learning something.”

   Nik shrugged. “Maybe. I just chase people.”

  “But he does it using his brain, you do it with your legs and car.”

    Nik grinned slyly. “You implying I don’t use my brain?”

   The captain stood to get himself some coffee. “Oh, you’re smart, don’t get me wrong. But a lot of people wanted to work with him, despite what you told him. And because he was a new detective, he was the only one I could spare to work with you.”

  “I know. I had to tell him he wasn’t all that trusted.”

  “When the truth is 180 degrees off.”

  “I know. I told him he had two days to prove his theory.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then we close the case as unsolved.”

  “I don’t know about it, either. None of it makes sense. If the guy was an assassin, my guess is that someone found him and got their revenge.”

   Nik shook his head. “It usually doesn’t work that way. Assassins are hired guns, nothing personal about what they do, most of the time. Dwayne seems to think the killing involved some law firm down in Vegas, or at least a lawyer who works in that firm. It’s all sketchy, but he’s called in for a search warrant for the victim’s home.”

   The captain sighed and nodded. “And he has it, it just got faxed in an hour ago.”

  “I can make it disappear so we can forget about it.”

  “Why do you want it to go away?”

  “It just seems dead, not worth looking into.”

   The boss looked sternly at Nik. “No, it’s you avoiding a case where you have to use those deduction skills that you don’t think you have. Quite frankly, I think you have them.”

 “Is it worth using them if I don’t plan to be around much longer?”

  “It’s called bettering yourself. Try it.”

  “Is the lecture over?”

  “Yeah. You gave him time, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Make it useful for him.”

Chapter 28

   The clock was now ticking, and Dwayne knew to not push Nik for an extension. After they had agreed on the 48-hour deadline, Nik had gone home. Dwayne stayed to find out more, if that was possible, about who Damien Tyler was. What truly puzzled him at the moment was the connection to the lawyer from Las Vegas. Why would a family law firm attorney want a former mob hitman dead? At the moment, it made no sense.

   Neither did Nik Friday. Dwayne had never met someone so aloof at solving a crime.The captain had told Dwayne to trust Nik and his instincts several times. The other cops had mixed feelings on the man. He did not seem like he was academy-trained, more like a reject from another department, maybe another state for that matter.

   For the time being, Dwayne decided to go with his own gut. He’d solve this even if it meant going over Nik’s head, hell even if it meant suspension for doing just that. He had to make a mark in the department somewhere.

Chapter 27

   It was six hours later that Dwayne called Nik into headquarters. Nik had taken the afternoon off to grab a nap, after reading about his past. Despite his boasts about being able to stay awake, his eyelids had gotten heavier while listening to Dwayne’s theories in the car. He was none too happy to be called back in, and he took his time driving back.

   At 8:00p.m. Nik walked slowly up to his desk where Dwayne sat beaming at the computer. “This had better be worth risking your life over, kid.”

  “I think it is.”

  “Think? You’d better be damn sure.”

   Dwayne finally looked at him. “You didn’t sleep?”

  “I didn’t continue sleeping, that’s the problem!” Nik then looked at the computer. “You been web surfing all day?”

  “You might say that.”

  “Look, Dwayne, your dedication is cool, but we’re not going to solve this murder in one day. If you hadn’t noticed, there’s no political pressure here.”

  “I know, but it’s my first real case, Nik, and I don’t want it breaking me.”

  “No, I’ll be the one that breaks you, in half! Who are you trying to impress?”

  “You, for one.”

   Nik grabbed the back of his chair and looked down, sighing. “You don’t need to impress me, got it? I know you’re new, and I fuck with you because of that. Your response seems to be to work yourself toward burnout instead of telling me to go fuck myself, which I get told a lot.”

  “It’s tempting.”

  “So say it!”

  “It’s not my way.”

  “I see that.” Nik turned the chair around and sat down. “You have one minute to impress me. Go!”

   Dwayne’s smile returned. “Oscar DeBartolo isn’t his real name.”

  “55 seconds.”

  “I checked the social security, and it belongs to a Sacramento kid who drowned in 1989.”

  “45 seconds.”

  “The address might still be good, but we’re waiting on a warrant. In the meantime, I ran his picture, got nothing in the computer files.”

  “35 seconds.”

  “Karl Walters, the morgue assistant we just got, used to work in New York, and while I was eating dinner, he saw the pic and recognized him.”

  “25 seconds. And?”

  “Let me introduce you to Damien Tyler, former mob assassin for the Gianelli family and, up to recently, appears to have done some independent work off the books.”

  “15 seconds!”

  “Our victim is a hitman! And if my theory about that law firm guy is right, I think someone was cleaning up after themselves.”

   Nik looked at his watch, then nodded slowly. “I’m mildly impressed, okay? I say mildly because you got lucky. Did you check on the name Damien Tyler?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “Tyler was a mob enforcer and hitman for that family. What’s I’m working on is getting evidence on his independent hits.”

  “Evidence you’re not likely to find.”

  “Why?”

  “Hitmen, or hitwomen, are rarely known on police records unless they’ve been caught by at least one agency.”

   Dwayne nodded. “Well, according to the New York cop I spoke to, Tyler had been disappeared before the trial fifteen years ago.”

   Nik smiled for the first time since walking into the office. “He’d been disappeared?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think he disappeared himself. Was he ever officially arrested?”

  “For suspicion of murder, but it never even went to a judge.”

  “What a surprise. So the guy was known underground and not really officially on the books.”

  “Sounds that way.”

   Nik chose his next words carefully. “Then why continue?”

  “What?”

  “If he was a mob hitman, then who will miss him? Does it all matter?”

  “It does to me.”

  “Why, Dwayne?”

  “Because he was a murder victim, because it’s our case, and because I think in his post-mob days, this Tyler guy might have been into something nasty, if that lawyer is any indication.”

   Nik rubbed his eyes. “Do you realize that as of this moment I don’t care about this case?”

   Dwayne stared at the computer screen. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Pretend your ass off. Solving a hitman’s murder is a waste of my, rather, OUR time.”

   Dwayne spun around and threw his pen at Nik. Nik ducked it slightly. “You want off, you go ahead! I don’t need you to help me on this. I want to continue working on it. If you don’t, I’ll ask to go solo.”

  “It won’t happen. I have say-so.”

  “You told the captain I’m ready, I heard you.”

  “I was fucking with him. You and I are stuck with each other for the next few months.”

  “Why? We can just say it didn’t work out, we didn’t click.”

   Nik shook his head. “It won’t happen.”

  “Why?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes!”

   Nik stood up. “Because nobody else would work with you.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what your file says, you’re not a team player.”

  “And that’s bullshit! I always backed up whoever I was with.”

  “When you were in uniform, did you rat out some fellow officers for planting evidence?”

   Dwayne stopped cold. “Yes.”

  “Hey, I’m not blaming you. We all know that prick wasn’t guilty. Problem is, it was a character choice. Other detectives respect you, but they think your conscience will get them killed.”

  “Even if I was right?”

  “It’s not about right or wrong, Dwayne. You want some good advice?”

  “I think I’ll get it anyway.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not an oxygen waster.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Take your experience with me, then find another town. Start fresh, you’ve tainted yourself.”

   Dwayne pondered that a moment, then said, “Advice taken. Until then, do we have any other pressing cases?”

  “Why? What’s so big about your hitman?”

   The phone rang and Dwayne picked it up. He gave a few “mmhmms”, thanked the person on the other end, then hung up. “I don’t know what’s so big, but we have the warrant.”

   Nik sighed heavily. He knew he’d just lost a battle. “You have 48 hours to prove that the case has a future. If you haven’t proven it by then, I’m shutting it down.”

  “Deal.”

Chapter 26

   Five minutes after leaving Faraday’s home, Nik turned to his partner/driver. “What the fuck was that question about?”

  “I just wanted to know.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m curious about Faraday’s family problems.”

  “You’re talking Greek!”

  “Jefferson-Brown is a family law firm.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I used to live in Vegas. My parents are still there.”

  “All right, so Faraday hired a law firm in Vegas.”

  “When there are plenty here, and from what I saw, Faraday has been in Reno most of his life. Must be a big case to get someone out of town.”

   Nik was about to ponder that before he caught himself. “What the hell does this have to do with Oscar DeBartolo?”

  “Nothing…yet.”

  “One minute you’re a total dumbass, which I’m used to, and then you start thinking like a cop. You’re hard to follow, you know that?”

   Dwayne opened his mouth to retort, then caught himself. He thought for a moment, then turned back to Nik. “Look, I listen to people, all right? I read things and I listen.”

  “So?”

  “It’s checking out dead bodies and all that makes me green. When I’m green I probably say a lot of stupid shit. I’m telling you, though, Faraday doesn’t look all that innocent.”

  “He doesn’t, eh?”

  “No.”

   As they pulled up to Nik’s apartment, Nik looked at Dwayne for a moment, then grinned. “It’s not Faraday you’re wondering about.”

  “Yeah I am.”

  “Maybe a little. No, you’re looking down the road. What you’re really wondering about is this lawyer in Vegas.”

   Dwayne shrugged. “So?”

  “So, let’s worry about DeBartolo.”

  “That’s just it. I am thinking about him.”

  “You have a scenario for me?”

   Behrens’s face lit up. “Yeah! Suppose Faraday lent this Clayton guy his yacht. Clayton then in turn lets DeBartolo use it.”

  “Doesn’t seem too unlikely. And?”

  “What if DeBartolo was lent that yacht to get shot?”

  “What if?”

  “Isn’t it possible?”

  “It’s possible. There’s one big problem so far.”

  “What?”

  “We don’t even know who DeBartolo was yet.”

  “One thing at a time, Nik.”

   Nik shook his head and left the car, then walked up to his second-story apartment, watching Dwayne drive away as he did. He grimaced, then entered what he called the ugliest stucco development he had ever seen. He took off his jacket, then removed his shoulder strap with the gun inside and put it on the small coffee table he's rescued from a dumpster.

   There was a metal box underneath the table with a set of file folders inside. Nik pulled one folder out and opened it. Inside was a set of newspaper articles from El Paso. He pulled out one that read, “Lopez Son Killed in Crossfire.” Nik shook his head as he read it. The article was from four years ago, but it still stung him as much now as it did then. He remembered it well.

   A bounty hunter named Nicolas Viernes had been hired by Mexican mobster Antonio Lopez to track and haul in a French expatriate named Rene Xavier. When Viernes had asked why, he was told to mind his own business. Xavier was in El Paso, while Lopez ran his operation out of Juarez. The bounty was forty thousand dollars, a hard deal to pass up. The exchange was to take place at Lopez's office, but Nicolas was not about to be tricked into being arrested on Mexican turf.

   Nicolas knew of a spot thirty miles southeast where border security was lax. He had dealt with Mexican clients before, and it was a preferred spot. Lopez agreed. However, he put his son Sandro in charge of the deal, a kid that Nicolas knew to be inexperienced and greedy, a combination destined to make any deal go awry.

   He lured Xavier to an El Paso cantina, mentioning possible reentry into France. When Xavier got there, Nicolas slipped him a strong sedative. When the man was out, he took the Frenchman out like he was drunk and put him into his car and drove to the spot. When he got there, Sandro and some henchmen were there. Nicolas was about to drive away, but Sandro flashed the bounty in front of him. All looked as if it might go well, until Xavier woke up and pulled out a knife. He stabbed Nicolas in the side.

   Nicolas blacked out and when he woke up, he was in a hospital. The article was sitting on his stomach when he awoke. It stated that Sandro had been killed by an unknown assailant. Three days later, as Nicolas was leaving the hospital, he saw one of Lopez's henchmen aiming a gun at him. The man killed Viernes's police escort. Viernes grabbed his gun and returned fire, killing the assailant. It was clear that Antonio Lopez put a hit out on him.

   Nik put the article back and grabbed another one, which was from a Spanish newspaper. He didn't read Spanish well, but it was clear that Xavier and Lopez had entered into a business deal involving cocaine. There was another article regarding the search for Nicolas Viernes. One last article, dated months later, dealt with an “alien raid” in El Paso and the death of Rene Xavier. Lopez tried to pin the murder on Nicolas as revenge-killing. It was clear that Lopez owned the Juarez newspaper and was able to spread as much propaganda as he pleased. The police did nothing, as there was no proof, of course, but Lopez had his own ways of extracting justice.

   Nik put the articles back into the box. Nik...Nic...Nicolas....all three and only one in hiding.

Chapter 25

   Max Faraday sat down slowly, in disbelief. “Someone was killed on my yacht?”

   Nik nodded, keeping an eye on the bald 55-year old man. “It appears to have taken place a few days ago. The crime lab is working out the specifics, but our guess is that the victim was shot from a distance. They place the date around June 27^th.”

   Faraday, a man of 5’5 and around 170 pounds, had remained calm so far. He had not seemed at all amazed to answer his door to the police. Not exactly expecting them, but not indignant either. “I see. This is very disturbing.”

  “Had you let the victim use your yacht?”

  “No. I mean, yes.”

   Nik looked at Dwayne, who was walking around the living room in quiet respect. Nik had instructed him to stay mute during the interview. The kid wasn’t quite skilled in the art of interviewing a possible suspect. Dwayne just arched an eyebrow at Faraday’s answer. Nik turned back to the man. “Which is it?”

  “I lent it, but not to the man you described.”

  “Exactly who did you lend it to?”

  “Is that important?”

  “It’s a homicide investigation. Everything is important. Considering your yacht was where the body was found, I’d say your answers are pretty damn vital.”

   Faraday held up a hand in apology, then rubbed his brow. “I’m sorry, this is all confusing to me, and quite sudden.”

  “The name, sir.”

  “Ted Clayton. He doesn’t live in town.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Las Vegas. He’s a partner in a law firm there. Jefferson-Brown is the name of the firm.”

  “What’s his involvement with you?”

  “He’s a professional friend.”

   Nik nodded. “He ever use your yacht before?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll be contacting him, probably today. Is he back home or still here?”

  “I believe he went back to Las Vegas two days ago.” Faraday cast a glance at Dwayne. “Does he say anything?”

   Nik looked at Dwayne. “He’s kind of supervising me, making sure I’m not out of line.” He then said to Behrens, “Boss, you have any questions?”

  “Just one. Mr. Faraday, I don’t expect you to know this, but why do you think Mr. Clayton lent your boat to Oscar DeBartolo?”

   Nik wanted to smile, but held it in. The kid was learning. “I was thinking that, too, boss. Well, Mr. Faraday, any guesses?”

  “I left it in his care. Last time I’ll ever do that!”

  “I take it you don’t have a clue?”

  “None at all. If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “I own the Starboard Casino in Carson City.”

  “Business good?”

  “Always.” The standard business line. “And I must make sure it stays that way, gentlemen. Good day.”

   The two cops turned to walk out, but Dwayne stopped. Oh shit, thought Nik.

  “Mr. Faraday, one more question.”

  “Yes, Columbo?”

  “I’m just curious about your professional relationship with Mr. Clayton.”

  “He handles some legal matters, and I put him up in my hotel when he’s here. Anything else?”

  “At this moment, no.” With that, he and Nik quietly let themselves out.

Chapter 24

   The chewing-out by Captain Larson Ward didn’t take as long as he thought it would. It was not as though it was the first time Nik had apprehended a felon in that fashion. The captain didn’t really mind it so much, but he’d preferred that Nik do it on his own and not use a partner.

   Captain Ward held his head in his hands at his desk. “How long have you been a cop, Friday?”

  “Too long some days.”

  “This is one of those days for me!”

   Nik shrugged. “I’d be just as happy back in Texas doing what I did.”

  “I admit your bounty hunter days help you in tracking, and you’re a hell of a detective. But your lack of respect for procedure gives me an ulcer. And yes, don’t remind me, I know I brought you here.”

   Nik grinned. “Dwayne didn’t seem to mind much. In fact a lot of it was his idea.”

   Ward’s eyebrows went up. “It was his idea to volunteer for target practice?”

  “We were there, we got it done.”

  “And what if that kid sues us?”

  “For what? Interrupting his robbery? Give me a break!”

  “You stuck a gun up his ass!”

  “And don’t think it was easy. Pretty damn tight, that kid.”

   Ward slammed his desk with his hand, but there was no real anger to back it up. “Let’s drop it. Giles is all right, case closed. How’s Behrens working out?”

   Nik scratched his chin in thought. “He has his moments. A lot of them are happening more often now.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I want him to be trained by someone else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because one of these days he’ll get himself killed.”

  “By who?”

  “Me. He’s got some good instinct, but little common sense, and one of these days I’ll have to shut him up for good.”

   Ward sighed in exasperation. “He stays with you.”

  “And if he dies?”

  “Then I’ll know I made a bad decision.”

  “Damn it, you know I can teach him only so much! I can teach him to track a criminal or suspect, but you and I both know I can’t tie clues together to save my own ass. Besides, I like working alone.”

   Ward sighed. “I know your skills, and you don’t give yourself enough credit. For the time being, you live with him. Beat it.”

   Nik got up and left the office. Dwayne stood by the water cooler. “We cool?”

  “Dunno. Are we?”

  “Can we go talk to Faraday?”

  “Don’t see anything stopping us. You eat anything?”

  “Danish from the machine.”

  “Cop protein, that’s good.”

  “I think I’ll have the shits later.”

  “Cop metabolism, too. You see, you’re cut out for the job! I spoke up for you in there.”

  “Oh?”

  “I recommended you be set loose.”

  “What? We work well together, don’t we?”

  “I know, but I’ve learned all I can from you, Dwayne. There’s a point where I gotta try to see how well I do solo.”

   Dwayne smirked. “What did Ward say?”

  “He said I need more seasoning, so you’re stuck with me. Sorry, I tried.”

  “Can we talk to Faraday now?”

  “Lead the way, boss.”

Chapter 23

   Nik and Dwayne drove into downtown Reno, toward police headquarters. They had not eaten yet, as there was an address they had to check on: Max Faraday’s. They had tried to get it on the road via radio, but nobody at headquarters could find him. Behrens stopped the car at the corner right by the station. He was about to get out when Nik touched his arm. “Hold on.”

  “What is it?”

  “Look over there.”

   Dwayne followed his partner’s finger to a popular delicatessen that the police often used for all meals. He saw, well, the deli. “You want that for breakfast or something?”

  “The car.”

   Dwayne stared at the blue Pinto in front. “A bad antique. And?”

  “Keep looking.”

   Behrens smiled inwardly. Nik was always testing his observation skills. “Okay, he’s in the red zone, and the car is running.” He looked back at Nik. “You think someone is dumb enough to rob that place in front of our office?”

   Nik shrugged. “I’m not sure about a robbery, but it’s odd.”

   Dwayne looked back, and was about to dismiss the whole thing when he noticed something else. “What time does it open?”

  “Two hours ago.”

  “And isn’t the door usually open?”

  “Yep.”

  “Think this is a job for supercop?”

  “And that would be?”

   Dwayne smirked. “You?”

   Nik shook his head. “We’re not rushing in there blind.”

  “I meant you, not we.”

  “You showing your sarcastic side?”

  “I’m getting there.”

  “Then make a u-turn.”

   Dwayne chuckled. “Okay, so what do we do?”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Call it in?”

  “Call what in?”

  “The situation.”

  “What situation?”

   Behrens was getting pissed. “The one you pointed out to me!” Then he got it. “We don’t know anything yet.”

  “But we have a weird feeling.”

  “Call the deli?”

   Nik shrugged. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Holy shit! I actually had an original idea?”

  “One in a morning isn’t impressive.”

   Dwayne could kill the guy sometimes. “I guess the number should be in my cell?”

  “It’s in mine.” Nik speed-dialed the number. “Hey, I want to place an order,” he said when there was an answer.

   There was a pause. “We’re closed.”

  “On a Thursday?”

  “Slow shipments of meat.”

  “Come on, I need some egg salad and cole slaw.”

  “Then go to the supermarket or another deli. We’re closed!” The phone clicked off.

   Nik turned to Dwayne. “It wasn’t Giles.”

  “The owner?”

  “Yeah. This sounds like a job for supercop.”

   Dwayne’s eyebrows went up. “What’re you going to do, rush in?”

  “No, but you’re going to stuff that tailpipe with a rag.”

  “What rag?”

   Nik pulled a towel from his back seat. “Stuff it with this. Don’t ask me questions right now, just do it.”

   Dwayne grabbed the towel and sneaked across the street. He got a few looks from passerby, but they didn’t stop to watch. He stuffed one end of the towel into the pipe, making sure it stayed. He looked up to see Nik waving him back and returned. “I wanted to stay and watch.”

  “Not near a Pinto you don’t.”

  “Whoever it is, I could have arrested him when the car broke down.”

  “I know. An arrest isn’t quite in my mind.”

   Dwayne watched the car. “That thing’ll bust any second if it keeps running. The exhaust smelled like shit.”

  “That’s a Pinto.”

  “Whatever’s going on in there, he didn’t plan to stay.”

  “I think Giles is either injured or dead.”

  “Resistant type?”

  “Proud is more like it. That’s the delay. Whoever that was felt forced to play disciplinarian.”

   Dwayne stared at the car for a long moment. “Sure whatever explodes won’t hit us?”

  “No guarantees, but I feel safe.”

  “Works for-“

   Dwayne’s relief was interrupted by a loud pop from the Pinto. Not a true explosion, but it did seem to kill the motor.

   Nik’s eyes turned to the deli. It was strange. Even though he could not really see anything, he could sense a dead calm inside, as if someone was now on alert inside. He dialed the deli again. After five rings, the phone picked up. “Who the fuck is this?”

  “The man who’ll do ten times to you what I just did to your getaway car.”

   “Back off or I’ll kill the old man!”

   Nik listened. There was no sound in the background. “You killed him already. I have nothing to lose by storming in and killing you. And trust me, I have long practice. Do you?”

   Silence followed. The breathing that came a moment later was quite labored, and Nike was sure he’d just scared the shit out of whoever was in there. Finally he came on. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Asshole, you’re robbing a deli across the street from police headquarters. How far do you think you’re going to get?”

   Another silence. Nik was reassured guy must be stupid. “You mean you didn’t recon the place before hitting it? Well, it shouldn’t surprise me, you came in a bad car.”

  “Shut up, will you?!”

  “Give it up. How much do you think you’ll get in there? A deli isn’t loaded.”

  “Maybe not with money.”

   Nik looked at the phone a minute, then looked at Dwayne. “He wants the food stock.”

  “Is the place that good?”

  “I have no complaints.” Nik turned back to the phone. “Get the hell out of there before I ram my gun up your ass.”

  “Fuck you!” The phone went dead.

   Dwayne looked toward the deli. “Well?”

  “He’s desperate.”

  “On drugs?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “No shit.”

  “I think I could get a sandwich right now.”

   Nik rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “That I need food.”

  “One-track mind?”

  “You can’t go in there, he knows your voice.”

   Nik looked Dwayne over. He was in a flannel shirt and jeans. “Give me your gear.”

 “Go in unarmed?”

 “Well, he’ll suspect the hell out of you if he sees cuffs and your revolver.”

   Dwayne shrugged, then handed over his equipment. “And if I get a gun in my face?”

  “Tell him to point it elsewhere.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey this is your idea.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

   Dwayne left the car as quietly as possible, then casually walked up to the door. He pulled on the door and it opened. Inside, all the shelves had been thrown about, sliced cheese and block cheese were all over the floor, as well as several kinds of sliced meat. In the center of the store was a register in a square enclosure. Nobody was inside it.

   From behind him, he heard a deep, gravelly voice. “Don’t move.”

   Instinctively, Dwayne lifted his arms. “Not even to raise my arms?”

  “I like that move. Keep them up.”

  “May I turn around?”

  “What for?”

  “If you’re gonna shoot, I don’t want to be surprised.”

  “Who said I was gonna shoot?”

  “Why else do you have a gun?”

   The suspect’s casual manner turned icy. “You’re curious, way too curious.”

  “Just making conversation. Nervous talk at that.”

  “I think you oughta shut the fuck up.”

   Dwayne was about to retort when he heard a click. However, the click wasn’t right behind him; rather, it was just a bit further away. He smiled when he heard, “I told you I’d blow your ass out,” from Nik.