The further adventures of TT Spalding, PI This is just for fun as usual. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it.
Edited as always by Angel Love. My thanks to her
TT Spalding, PI – The Industrial Espionage Case.
After sitting here for the last three hours, racking my brain, trying to find a beginning worthy of my idol Mickey Spillane, I finally had the beginnings of an idea. Since his untimely passing, my literary clock had begun ticking. I felt it my duty to Mickey to write the all American PI novel. I would draw from my extensive experience as a fearless, intrepid private dick. My worldly knowledge would be my guide. I picked up my pen, (Well actually, it was a computer but what the hell. I know, I know, Mickey didn't use a computer!)
He reached back and turned up the collar of his black trench coat to block the dripping water running down his neck. It was this damned mist, absorbing the sound and making the night as silent as a tomb. But it was good for him as he leaned against the coarse, wet bark of the tree next to him. It hid him from the house as he stayed just back out of view. He was waiting for her to come out, knowing that she was going to meet her lover tonight.
Her lover! He was number two in the local mob, controlling the numbers and the hookers for Don Giovanni, the top man. Normally that was a good thing to be unless the woman you were sleeping with was the wife of the Don. And Don Giovanni had found out about it. He was there tonight waiting for her in place of her lover, no longer number two and no longer anything. When I called to let him know she was on her way, my job would be done and my bank account would be a lot fatter. Her bank account would be stamped closed. But that wasn't my problem. She knew the risks! She knew what the score was. Shit!
I had to do something! I couldn't let her be killed for loving the wrong man. I knew then that I had fallen for this dame. I had fallen hard and there was no hope for me now.
Not too bad, but it lacked something. I needed to punch it up some. Maybe if I read one of Mickey's novels it would help. I needed inspiration and Mike Hammer was the one to provide it. Yeah, that would do it. I could pull out my copy of
Black Alley
, or even
The Killing Man
to stoke up my imagination. Maybe I could knock off early and . . .
Slam! The door to my inner sanctum, my office, my writing den, flew open!
"Theodore, get your ass in gear! There's a gentleman here to see you. I'll give you a minute and then show him in."
I was about to tell her to go the hell away when . . . , "And don't you even bother to give me that crap! I know that look!"
Trapped! Hoisted by my own petard! (Wonder what the hell that means, anyway?)
"All right, all right! I'll be ready. God, give a guy a break why can't you?"
"What did you call the last three weeks in Hawaii? Work? You don't need a break but we need the money."
That was Maggie, my wife and part time secretary and the only living soul that could call me Theodore and live. She was the boss, that's for sure. And she was right. We had spent the last three weeks in Hawaii, and it had been great. I got more loving and more sex than I ever dreamed and we were both fat, happy and sated by the time we had to leave. Good vacation! Good company! Good everything!
I saved my new document, my novel, to disk and sat back waiting for my new client. I had no information on this one, since he hadn't come in before. Since we were on vacation, the office was closed so this would be the first sit down. Yeah, Maggie was right. We needed the money, especially since she had presented me with an anniversary gift, a first edition copy of
My Gun is Quick
, the first Mike Hammer novel and my most prized possession. God, I loved that woman! Always had and always would.
The door opened and Maggie showed him in.
Tall, coal black hair, combed back tight against his skull and gleaming with the liberal application of tonic. Looked to be mid forties, or maybe older. Sharp features, the face of a man used to giving orders. He wouldn't be good at taking them or of having them ignored. Dangerous, but with an air of vulnerability about him
.
I snapped back to reality and stood, waiting.
Maggie glared at me to be sure I was ready and introduced him. "This is Mr. Raymond Villager. He wants to discuss some business with us. Mr. Villager, this is TT Spalding."
"How do you do Mr. Villager. Welcome and please, have a seat." I indicated the softer of the two chairs in my spartan office.
"Thank you. Please call me Ray if you will. Mr. Villager sounds so tight, so formal. I'm just a plain guy." He sat down slowly, looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else than here. Interesting!
"And you can call me TT, Ray. Let's get some facts first and see what we can do for each other. OK with you?"
He nodded affirmatively but didn't relax in the chair. He was perched, the best word I could come up with, on the edge of the chair with his legs tight together and his hands clasped on his knees. Not what I expected when I first saw him. Of course, I saw him through Mike's eyes and they were biased.
"First, I need to know what it is you want from us. We do many things but we need to decide first if we can even help you. Why don't you start from the beginning? OK with you?"
He nodded again and seemed to withdraw into himself for a moment while he tried to come up with the words he was having trouble saying. I thought probably he was going to be one of those domestic problem guys with a cheating wife and my heart sort of stumbled. I was really tired of those: sad, broken men who couldn't believe that the love of their life didn't feel the same way. I had seen it all and it saddened me.
"I own and operate my own company. It's called, '411, Inc.' and we control access to, or provide the source of, information. Information of all kinds. We're sort of a know-all, see-all outfit. If there's something you need to know, we find it out. If there's something you want to sell, information wise, we sell it. We do it all."
"And this is a profitable endeavor? I mean, you make a living doing that?"
"A very good living. I grossed more than seven million last year and this year, so far, looks much better. I have twenty employees and we provide services to more than two hundred companies. I travel a lot and spend a lot to time out of the office."
Better and better. Maybe this was my meat and potatoes problem: industrial espionage. I loved this stuff. People trying to steal secrets from one company to sell to another. This was the stuff of profits: mine!
"And what seems to be the problem? It sounds like things are going well."
"Yes and no. I'm still doing well and profits are up, but recently, we have been underbid by several other companies that aren't half as good as we are and they couldn't offer the services we do but they are able to come up with a program proposal equal to or better than I can provide at least for the presentation."
This came out in a rush and seemed to be confusing. If they were smaller and not able to provide the services, how could they promise them? I asked Ray this question.
'If they get the job, they can afford to hire the people temporarily to do the job. Probably not as well or as complete but by that time, they're already hired. I'm shut out. The thing is there is no way they could know what I proposed or how much I was changing for that service. But their bid is always exactly 5% less than mine. On a $100,000 job, that's a difference of $5,000, usually enough to get the job."
Now I saw. Someone was stealing the information of the bidding and using it to provide a lower bid with the same services. Someone was ripping him off and had done it enough that Ray was now noticing. I get it! Great! My cup of tea. I knew what I could do for him now.
"I see the problem. You want to know who's feeding your competition information on the job bidding process. Right?"
"Exactly! I need to close the leak and I need to do it soon. There are a lot of people counting on me and I don't want to let them down. I'm good at ideas, information and the ways it can do things, but I'm out of my depth here. Can you help?"
"We can help and we can close the leak. We work on a simple contract basis. I'll need $5,000 up front, permission to place two employees in your offices and permission to install camera or phone taps as I see fit. I'll provide you with the locations of all cameras and taps. We work on a flat fee basis. Once we begin, I'll provide weekly reports and if you are satisfied with the progress, you will pay us an additional $5,000 per week. Once we complete the job, and the leak is identified and stopped, our business will be concluded and there is a fee of $10,000 at the completion. If these terms are satisfactory, I'll have Maggie draw up the contract and we can begin."