Джордж Хиггинс - The New Black Mask (No 4)

“Not bad,” I admitted. “I used some of your money to spruce up the office a bit, and to get you a good used desk. And I took out a small announcement ad on the business page of the morning newspaper. That might bring us in something.”

He looked over the desk and tried the chair. “I guess I’ll need a typewriter too, for letters and reports.”

I was about to suggest he could use mine, but that didn’t seem right on his first day. “I’ll rent you one for a month, till we can find a good one to buy.”

“Swell.”

“Your dad coming by to see the office?” I asked casually.

“Uh, no — not right away. He wanted to, but I thought he should wait awhile till we get settled.”

“That’s probably best,” I agreed.

I set to work on the telephone trying to drum up business then, because I couldn’t have the two of us sitting around doing nothing all day. I got lucky on the third phone call, to one of the big agencies. Some of their people were on vacation, and they were farming out a few routine insurance jobs. I told them my new partner Mike Trapper would be right over.

He was gone all afternoon and hadn’t returned by the time I locked up the office a little before six. At the bar around the corner where I often stopped for a drink, I ran into Sergeant O’Keefe from Headquarters. We’d been casual friends for years, and as he slipped on to the stool next to me he said, “I hear you got yourself a partner, Al.”

“Yeah, kid just out of college. Wants to learn the business. I was down yesterday and got him a license.”

“Who in hell’d want to be a private eye these days? Does he think he’ll get rich?”

“Family’s got money. Maybe the pay doesn’t matter to him.”

“What’s his name?”

I took a sip of Scotch. “Mike Trapper. You’ll probably see a request for a gun permit come through for him.”

O’Keefe patted my shoulder. “Hell, Al, maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe it’s like having a son to carry on the business.”

“Yeah.”

The next morning I had to wind up some business on a shoplifting case. After that, on my way down to the office, I stopped by a gun shop and picked out a five-shot Smith & Wesson caliber .38 Terrier. I told the clerk to put it aside, that we’d be in with the permit in a day or two. I figured if the kid invested ten grand in my business I could afford to buy him his first gun.

When I reached the office I was surprised to see the door standing open. Mike Trapper was inside at his desk, over in the opposite corner from mine. But he wasn’t alone. A tall white-haired man occupied the visitor’s chair. Mike jumped up as I entered.

“Al, we have a client! This is Craig Winton; Al Darlan. I met Mr. Winton over at the insurance office, He has a perplexing problem and he thinks we can help him.”

Craig Winton’s handshake was firm, and his eyes reflected a shrewd intelligence I’d often noticed in successful middle-aged businessmen. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darlan. Your young partner here impressed me at the office this morning. I decided your firm might be able to help me with an annoying situation.” He glanced around at the big single room as he spoke, and I feared for a moment that the kid had oversold us.

“We’re hoping to move to larger quarters soon,” I explained. “My secretary is on vacation, but when she returns we’ll be moving to a suite of offices on the fifth floor.”

His cool eyes studied me and he smiled slightly. “I chose your agency because I wanted a small outfit. Our insurance firm deals routinely with the larger agencies in fraud investigations. I know those people, and I don’t want them involved in my personal affairs. It wouldn’t be good for our future business relation-ship.”

“I understand completely,” I said. “What’s the nature of your problem, Mr. Winton?”

“I explained it to Mike on the way over. Someone seems to be impersonating me. It started about three months ago when I flew to Las Vegas for a convention. The clerk at the hotel insisted I’d arrived a day earlier, stayed one night, and then checked out that morning. I considered it a foolish mix-up, and didn’t think too much about it. But a month later there was a similar occurrence. This imposter or double actually showed up at a meeting where I was to speak. Several people saw him, but he disappeared just before the time of my arrival.”

“Have you reported this to the police?” I asked.

“There’s been nothing to report. The imposter has committed no crime, and in fact has shown no attempt to harm me in any way. And yet—”

“There must have been more recent instances,” I said. “The last one you mentioned was two months ago. What caused you to act now?”

“I suppose it’s that the appearances of this phantom double are becoming more personal all the time. Last month, while I was out of the office for lunch, he actually walked past my secretary, entered my private office, and remained there for five minutes. When I returned from lunch she asked me what I’d come back for. Believe me, I was prepared to call the police that time! But nothing on my desk had been disturbed, nothing was missing.”

“What did you tell your secretary?”

“I insisted it hadn’t been me. She dropped the subject, probably thinking I’d had too many luncheon martinis.”

“And the latest appearance?”

Craig Winton gave me another of his tired smiles. “Yes, there was one just yesterday. You may have guessed that’s why I’m acting today. My wife saw him in our garage yesterday morning, after I’d left for the office. She thought it was me.”

“Did he speak to her?”

“Yes. He muttered something about forgetting his briefcase. Then he left before she could get a good look at him. She phoned me later at the office and asked if I was all right.”

“And you told her about this double?”

“I told her the whole story last night for the first time. She insisted I go to the police with it. We finally compromised, and I agreed to hire a private detective.”

Mike Trapper shook his head. “Weird, isn’t it, Al?”

“Strange,” I agreed. “And just a bit menacing. You’re aware of the pattern in all this, of course.”

“Pattern?” the kid asked, but Craig Winton gave a little nod. He knew what I meant.

“Yes. The first time he appeared, the double was seen only by a hotel clerk who didn’t know me. The second time he was seen by some casual business associates who knew me slightly. The third time my secretary saw him. And the fourth time my wife saw him.”

“It’s leading up to the grand finale,” I said. “The next time you’ll see him.”

“I read a story in college about a doppelganger,” Mike said. “That’s German for a sort of ghostly double. When someone sees his own doppelganger it’s supposed to kill him.”

I picked up a pad and started making some notes. “Do you have a weak heart, Mr. Winton?”

He shook his head. “Strong as an ox. I have a checkup every year.”

“So we can assume no one’s trying to scare you to death. What about a twin? Do you have any brothers?”

“Only a sister living out west. You can be sure there’s no secret twin hiding someplace.”

I turned to the kid. “You want to work on this, Mike?”

“I sure do!”

“All right.” I pulled a figure out of the air and told Winton how much we charged per day, plus expenses. He didn’t bat an eye, and I wished I’d made it higher. “I want you to give Mike here a schedule of everything you’ll be doing for the next week. Every business meeting, every luncheon or dinner engagement, even social events with your wife. Mike’s going to be one step ahead of you, and sometimes one step behind you. Meanwhile, I’ll do some investigating on my own.”