Parnell Hall - The Anonymous Client

“Bradshaw went out.”

“How?”

“In a taxi.”

“Got him covered?”

“I’ll say. I’ve got two cars on him this time. We’ve got him bracketed, one car in front of the taxi, and one car behind. He may know he’s being followed, but there won’t be anything he can do about it.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Mark. Bradshaw’s tricky.”

“Sure he’s tricky, but this time we know it. He ditched my shadows this afternoon because it seemed like a routine job and no one suspected he was wise. My men are onto him now. They’ll stick like glue.”

“You sure of that?”

“Of course I am.”

“Wanna bet?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll bet you dinner Bradshaw walks away from your men again.”

Taylor rubbed his hands together. “You’re on, Steve. Shit, if I’d known that I’d have ordered steak.”

“I thought you liked the burgers here.”

“I do. But I love to gamble.”

“Big deal. All we’re really betting is whose expense account it goes on. So it’ll come back to me anyway.”

“I know, but what the hell. You want a side bet?”

“No. It’s a bad bet for me anyway. If I win, I lose. But-” Steve broke off. “Son of a bitch!”

“What?”

“Don’t look around, but there’s a girl with blonde hair and big round glasses sitting at the end of the bar.”

Taylor grinned. “No shit? Your secretary? Why don’t you ask her to join us?”

“It’s not funny, Mark. She’s playing detective. I don’t like it.”

“She know you saw her?”

“I don’t think so. Stay here and don’t look at her. I’m gonna head for the men’s room.”

Steve got up, went out the door and down the stairs. Instead of continuing down to the men’s room, he went up the stairs on the other side. He circled around the bar, came up on Tracy Garvin from the other side, and slid onto the bar stool next to her.

“You come here often?” he said.

Tracy turned to give him an exasperated are-you-really-trying-that-old-line look. Then she recognized him. For a second her eyes flashed embarrassment, then anger. Then she smiled and said, calmly, “No. First time. And you?”

Steve frowned. “Look. You’re playing detective, and I don’t like it.”

Tracy’s eyes flashed. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “What are you gonna do, fire me? I already gave notice. And it’s after hours, and what business is it of yours where I eat?”

Steve took a breath. “Look. This isn’t a game. If the girl spotted you watching her, it could be serious.”

“She won’t.”

“I spotted you.”

“Bullshit. You know me. The girl doesn’t.”

Steve frowned again. She was right. Women who were right exasperated him. “All right.” he said. “Since you’re here, you might as well join us.”

“Thanks for the invitation,” Tracy said, pointedly.

They got up and went back to the table.

“Look what I found, Mark,” Steve said.

Mark Taylor actually stood up, which Steve thought was overdoing it. “Hi, Tracy. Sit down. Join the fun.”

“Go ahead and fill her in, Mark,” Steve said. “She’s gonna pump you for the information anyway.”

“O.K.,” Taylor said. “Now, if you promise not to turn and stare, I’ll tell you who everyone is.”

“I know that,” Tracy said. “I just don’t know who is who.”

Taylor frowned. “What?”

“There’s the two guys over by the wall, and the nitwits entertaining the blonde. I just don’t know which pair is yours.”

Taylor looked at her. “Son of a bitch,” he said. “The nitwits happen to be mine. But how the hell’d you spot them?”

“The blonde pretending to be a pickup is one of their wives. She’s wearing her wedding ring. If she were a real pickup, and she were married, she’d leave her ring off as a matter of course.”

Mark Taylor stared at her.

Steve shook his head. Jesus Christ. A ridiculous, farfetched piece of deduction, that absurdly happened to be true. It was a little much.

The waiter came back. “You got another phone call.”

Mark Taylor pushed his chair back. “Our bird must have lit somewhere. I’ll find out where he went.”

He went over to the cashier and took the phone.

“What’s that all about?” Tracy asked.

“Bradshaw went out. We’re tailing him.”

“And Mark just got a report?”

“Maybe. I just bet Mark dinner Bradshaw’s gonna ditch his men again.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“’Cause I think he will.”

She stared at him. “Don’t you care?”

“Sure, but there’s nothing I can do about it. But I’m betting he will.”

Tracy was interested. “Why do you think so?”

“Because he gave up trying to talk me into calling them off. That must mean he thinks he can handle them.”

“Or that his heart is pure,” Tracy said.

Steve grinned, in spite of himself. “Now there’s a thought,” he said.

Mark Taylor came back from the phone. He slumped into his chair, drained the last swallow from his drink, and sighed.

Steve Winslow shot Tracy Garvin a look. “What’s the scoop, Mark?”

“You win, Steve.”

“He lost ’em?”

“He sure did.”

“How did he do it?”

Mark Taylor shook his head. “He did it so easy it makes me sick just to think about it.”

“Gonna tell us how?”

“Yeah. Now get this, Steve, ’cause it’s a new one on me. Bradshaw hails a taxi and my men pick him up. They’ve got him boxed in, with one car in front of the cab and one car behind. They’ve got the number of the cab and everything. O.K. They’re going up Park Avenue, right? They hit 42nd Street, they go around the Pan Am building, you know? They continue up Park Avenue, and you know what it’s like-a two-way street with a median strip in the middle. So what happens? They come to 48th Street. That’s a one-way street going east, a right-hand turn if you’re going uptown. Now the cab slows down and gets in the right lane, but he doesn’t signal, so the lead car has to play it by ear. He goes straight through, which turns out to be the right thing to do, because the cab goes through the intersection and pulls up at the far corner. Bradshaw gets out, pays off the cab, and starts across Park Avenue. The lead car sees this, so he beats it down to the end of the block and pulls a U-turn at 49th. The second car can’t turn left because 48th is a one-way street, so he pulls up next to the cab to see what Bradshaw’s gonna do. Bradshaw reaches the other side of Park Avenue, and starts trying to hail a cab going back downtown. When he sees this, the second car runs up to 49th Street and pulls a U-turn too. By this time, Bradshaw has walked halfway up the block toward 49th Street, still looking for a cab. So when the second car pulls up, the first car passes Bradshaw and waits on the corner of 48th, so when he gets a cab they’ll have him bracketed again.

“O.K. A cab comes along. Bradshaw gets in. The first car pulls out ahead of the cab. He’s right at the corner of 48th, so that takes him through the intersection. The cab cuts into the left hand lane and hangs a left onto 48th Street. That takes the first car out of the picture. His best bet is to beat it down to 46th, hang a left, run parallel, and try to spot the cab from two blocks away going through an intersection. That’s what he does.

“Meanwhile, the second car is right on Bradshaw’s tail. He makes the left hand turn onto 48th right behind the cab. Now get this. The cab goes twenty yards down 48th and stops dead in the middle of the street. He’s blocking the whole street, there’s no room to get by, and two cars have followed my man into the turn so he can’t back up.”