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.”