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.”