Regnad Kcin- Private Eye... The Case of the Erstwhile Accountant- Part IX

in #fiction5 years ago

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When Elnora and I got to the Pimpledick offices on Wiltshire it was cordoned off with yellow tape and there were several cars from the LAPD in the lot. We got out of the Bentley (Elnora still refused to ride in my ZX) and tried to enter when we were stopped by the same black detective I has encountered at Philip's house.

"Sorry," he said with a smirk, "I can't let you in here."

"I'm Elnora Pimpledick and this is my family's office," Elnora said defiantly. "You have no right to refuse me entrance- this is my property."

"I don't care if you're Jesus H Christ on a fucking bicycle," the detective spat back. "You're not going in there."

"I'll call your superiors," Elnora threatened. "I'll have your badge... you're rude and disrespectful and people like you have no place on the police force. To protect and serve indeed!"

"You do that lady," he said smugly, "see where that gets you. Now get the fuck out of here."

I bit my tongue and took Elnora by the arm. His being there told me that they didn't have the key either- it had to be what they were searching for. It was likely that the missing Harold probably had the only copy and it was probably what was keeping him alive... if he was indeed alive.

"C'mon Elnora," I said tugging gently at her arm, "I'll take you home."

"But Reg," she protested, "I feel so useless there... I want to be a part of things."

"The guy's supposed to come and sweep the house and somebody has to be there," I told her. I had someplace else I wanted to be, someplace I couldn't take her with me. "You need to keep an eye on him and make sure he gets everyplace- even the patio."

She kissed my cheek when I dropped her off. "You're coming back here aren't you? I feel safer when you're around- so does Flora I'm sure."

"I think Flora's more interested in Otto right now, but I'll be back in a bit," I laughed. I switched cars, lit up a Lucky and headed for Hollywood... along the way I thought.

I didn't like that detective that was at the offices, it felt as though he was baiting me. One advantage about bringing Manny in on the case was that it would take some of the heat off... after the foiled attempt on Flora- a message- and the murder of Philip they would have to back off some. Manny was a good cop and he would find who killed Philip. If I hadn't made the call to him, they would likely have sent a cover-up team. I figured it was cops that killed him, trying to make it look like a robbery. They couldn't do the same to Manny- he was a Captain and when they got caught it would mean either a hot shot, or biting a pillow in Pelican Bay for the rest of their natural... cops did hard time.

The seedier side of Hollywood Blvd was my destination. Otto and his crackpot theories and computer expertise were fine as far as they went, but I figured good old fashioned police work was what would solve this case. Start at the bottom and work your way up- just like in the old days. I started looking around for familiar faces, and it didn't take long.

Licki Wimbo was a diddler- I shit you not, that's the name on his jacket. Licki was one of those Native Americans- white guys that run around pretending to be part Indian, usually Cherokee. I pinched him a couple of times back in the day- once for possession of kiddie porn for which he did a bullet in County, and caught him in the act the other which got him a nickel in Lompoc. While he was there some real criminals took exception to his former depredations and stomped the fear of God into him which cost him over a month in the infirmary. The guys on the force used to call him Aqualung because he'd hang around the parks and watch the little girls.

I pulled over and started walking toward him. When he caught sight of me I thought he was going to rabbit, but he turned and became defiant.

"You're not a cop anymore," he said, "You can't touch me."

"I just want to talk, Licki," I told him earnestly, "I need your help.

"Me, help you," he snarled, "that's a good one. After what you did to me."

"What about what you did to that little girl," I reminded him.

"The shrink at the prison says I'm sick," he said back. "I got a disorder."

"Is there a place we can get a decent cup of joe?" I asked him. "One that isn't made of dishwater or spit."

He pointed at a coffee shop up the street. "I still don't know why I should help you," he said.

We got our coffee, which actually wasn't bad, and sat at a booth out of the way. "I'm working on something," I told him, "maybe you can help me." I folded a yard and put it under my palm on the table. I know they bring kids into the country illegally for, you know..."

"What do you care," he cut in, "you're not a cop anymore."

"I'm a private investigator," I informed him, "working on a case."

"What kind of case?" he wanted to know.

"A missing person," I said. "Will you help me?"

He looked at me and at the c-note under my hand. "What do I have to do?" He asked.

"Right now, I need information," I told him, "if I need more later on, I'll pay for that too- the pay's proportionate."

I sipped my coffee and let him think about it, keeping my eyes on his all the time. He was scum, we both knew it and we both knew he'd go for the money. "What do you want to know?" He asked, a smile on his pockmarked face.

I knew he was going to try to get away with telling me nothing so I held on to the money. "How do they bring them in?" I asked.

Knowing he wouldn't get a payday without telling me something, he replied: "There's different ways. It depends on who you are. The Mexican gangs have coyotes that smuggle them over the border. Most of them are ruined by the time they get here- if they're too bad they kill 'em and leave 'em in the desert."

"Go on," I said.

"The Chinks bring them in shipping containers... mostly through Long Beach- they own the port. Once they get here, they have auctions. Depends on what you want them for," he went on. "Some of the people that come to the auctions are big shots- it would surprise you."

"What kind of big shots?" I asked.

"You know, the Hollywood biggies," he said, "and politicians. Everybody thinks they're so cool, so high and mighty. They're freaks! I could tell you stories..." He stopped, looking around he went on. "Some of them drink the blood, I shit you not, they kill them and drink their blood... it's supposed to keep them young or something. Some of them worship Satan and make sacrifices... that's how they got rich and famous by sacrifices." He leaned forward before continuing: "I heard that some even sacrificed people from their own families."

"I'm interested in the children," I told him, "what becomes of them."

"Yeah, me too," he laughed.

"I need names," I told him. "Have you been to these auctions?"

"Me?" He asked incredulously. "I'm just a poor perv, I can't afford that kind of stuff... it costs thousands."

"Ok, thanks," I said handing him the yard. "How can I get in touch with you if I need you. He gave me the name of a rundown hotel not far away, a flop house- I knew the place. I got up to leave and said, "stay out of trouble Licki, I'll be in touch."

I headed toward my office making sure I hadn't been followed... when you've been in the game as long as I have you get a sixth sense about these things- so far so good. When I got there, Flora looked like she was going to be sick...

"Otto's been showing me articles confirming everything he said before," she told me. "This is real, and it's terrible what they do to these children."

"I know," I told her, "I've just been talking to someone who's been involved."

"Yes, but Reg," she said on the verge of tears, "the government is in on it... they're the ones trafficking the kids in some cases."

I needed a drink after this and what Licki had revealed... and I figured she could use one too. I offered one to Otto, but he said: "I don't drink man."

I figured it was time to lock up the office and call it a day. Otto said he was going to go home and work on his "dossier"... he was compiling facts about child trafficking and abuse in the LA area so he could just plug it in once he/we broke the code. The guy was a hard worker if nothing else. Flora and I headed toward Thousand Oaks.

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we are getting real interesting now, well done.

Thank you, thank you! The chapter of Otto I erased somehow and had to recreate it from memory. I'll have to fill it in more for the book.

you are making this sound like a preview, I hope so.

The imagery and plot reminds me of some of those detective shows from the 1960s. A definite enticement in the way you write. Thanks @richq11

I was wondering when that cop would show up again I get the feeling we will hear more of him later.

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