“I’m serious, Mark. Either Bradshaw sent me the money or he didn’t.”
“I thought we’d established he did.”
Steve shook his head. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t admit it. And I keep trying to convince myself that he didn’t. ’Cause I don’t want him for a client. Now, I can get around the bills by figuring that he gave them to someone else. But there’s one thing I can’t get around.”
“What’s that?”
“He came to my office. The minute he noticed he was being followed he came straight to my office. He must have realized I traced the bills and hired detectives to find out about him. That means he sent the bills and the letter. So, much as I hate it, I’m forced to assume that David C. Bradshaw is my client.”
“Why does that put you in a shaky ethical position?”
“Because a lawyer is bound to protect the rights of his client. Now then, if David C. Bradshaw is a client, he’s already stated in his letter that his situation is extremely delicate and must be handled with utmost discretion. Therefore, if I inadvertently do anything indiscreet to jeopardize his situation I am violating legal ethics by acting against the wishes of a client.”
“Oh shit,” Taylor said.
“Exactly,” Steve said. “On my own initiative I decided to have Bradshaw followed. Not only was this not in accordance with his wishes, but as soon as he realized it he flew into a rage and came up here to cuss me out about it. And I’m still having him followed.”
“I see.”
“There’s one saving grace. Tracy, you took shorthand notes, didn’t you?”
Tracy had, but she hadn’t thought he noticed. “Yeah.”
“I thought you had. Good. Hang on to them. They may be important.”
“Why?” Taylor said.
“That’s the saving grace. Bradshaw came to tell me to stop following him. But I got him so pissed off he never got around to it. In fact, he finally said something like, ‘Go ahead and follow me, see if I care, you’re just going to run up a big detective bill.’ So if worst came to worst, I could use that to show he’d O.K.’d the surveillance.”
“I see.”
“I don’t like it much. It makes me look like a tricky shyster. But right now I got no choice.”
Taylor nodded. “Shit.”
“So what about that car? Can you get another car out to the boat?”
“Yeah. I’ll probably have to bring it out myself. I got my men stretched out pretty thin.”
“I’ll go with you. I want to check out the girl anyway.”
“O.K.”
As they started for the door, Tracy said, “Hey, what about me?”
Steve stopped and thought a moment. “Close up at five as usual. If anything important comes in, call the Taylor Detective Agency and have ’em relay the message. Come on, Mark, let’s go.”
They went out the door.
Tracy stood there, staring after them. She took a breath and blew it out again. So. This was her reward for taking the shorthand notes. When she hadn’t even been asked. Great.
Tracy stalked into the outer office. Her book was lying on the desk. She snatched it up and looked at it for a moment.
Then she slammed it down on the desk.
7
They took two cars, seeing as how they had to get home again. Mark Taylor led the way in one, and Steve followed in the other. It was a short drive, up the West Side Highway to the George Washington Bridge, and then back down the river to the boat.
Steve Winslow had hoped to spot a likely car in the parking lot, but there was no hope of that. The Binghamton shared the huge parking lot with the Showboat Cinema and a racquetball club, and the place was jammed.
Steve found a parking space, got out, looked around, and joined Mark Taylor who had found a space in the next row. They walked up the covered gangplank to the boat. Inside were stairs leading up to the restaurant on the main deck.
Mark Taylor stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “They’re gonna spot us, Steve. You know that.”
“Who?”
“Miltner’s men.”
“That’s all right. They don’t know me,” Steve said.
“Yeah, but they know me. And by now they’ve spotted my men, just like we spotted them. On a job like this, you can’t help that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So they’ll know my agency’s on the job, and when I come in they’ll spot me.”
“I know, Mark. Right now I just don’t care.”
They went up the stairs. At the top was the cashier’s booth. Taylor said, “Wait a minute,” and went up to it. While Steve watched, Taylor conferred with the cashier, then extended a bill.
“What was that all about?” Steve asked, when Taylor came back.
Taylor jerked his thumb. “Phone’s there. I left the number with my office. If anything breaks, they’ll call me here.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes and no. I’ll wind up back in the office eating a soggy hamburger.”
A waiter appeared to usher them to a table. “Party of two? Would you care to eat inside or on deck?”
“Inside,” Taylor said.
The waiter led them to a table, seated them, gave them menus and took the drink order. Steve had scotch and Taylor bourbon.
When the waiter withdrew, Mark said, “You got them spotted, Steve?”
“Yeah. I spotted ’em on the way to the table. In the far corner. It’s the only party of one man and two women that’s even in the ballpark. Gotta be them.”
“Gotta be. You spot the detectives?”
“No, and I don’t want to look around for ’em. Where are they?”
“Look over my right shoulder. The two bored businessmen at the table by the wall-those are Miltner’s men. And then the table to the left. The two rather drunk out-of-town buyer types, trying to talk the blonde into calling a friend-those are mine. The blonde’s one of their wives. They brought her along for cover.”
“And for dinner,” Steve said. “You know, the more expenses I run up on this thing, the more tempting it’s gonna be to keep that retainer.” Steve picked up the menu. “So what’s good here?”
“Well,” Taylor said. “You can get a steak or a lobster if you want, but the best bet is a hamburger.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.”
Steve looked at him. “Here you are, so worried you’re gonna get sent back to the office and wind up eating a hamburger, and then what do you want to order? A hamburger.”
“Hey, there are hamburgers and there are hamburgers. The one in the paper bag is cold and soggy and small. The hamburger here is a half a pound of chopped meat served hot in a basket of fries with your choice of bacon, avocado, Swiss cheese or what have you on top. Trust me.”
The waiter returned with the drinks, and they ordered hamburgers. As the waiter left with the order, Steve looked over Mark Taylor’s shoulder and said, “One of Miltner’s men is getting up.”
Taylor watched as the man walked by, went out the door and down the stairs. “Pay phone’s down there. Probably spotted us, and he’s phoning in.”
