Vic Cross,PI: Paper and Plastic

The lady on the other side of the desk was the definition of too much; too much makeup, too much hair, too much hip, and way too much noise after a night spent throwing back cheap vodka in a basement bar to find out if her husband was cheating. Turns out he wasn’t, he was just a terrible poker player and a drunk. That seemed to suit Mrs. Too Much just fine though.

“I just can’t thank you enough, Ms. Cross.” The woman beamed as she handed an envelope to Vic. “I just knew Harry was a good man.” After a night in the man’s general vicinity, Vic thought that was generous, but attempted to smile as she got up from her desk.

“Glad I could help.” Vic opened the door to her office with a nod. “I hope you two have a grand future.” Thankfully, the client took the hint and swayed her way out the door with one last flash of too white teeth. Vic closed the door behind her and slumped into her worn leather chair.

It had been a busy few months. Arch City was just as full of petty problems as it was real crime and it seemed everyone had a friend whose wife’s cousin had heard of Vic Cross, PI. She wasn’t complaining, not loudly at least. But you could only be grateful for so many consecutive nights of staking out cheaters and two-timing business partners, even if it did pay the bills. And the increase in notoriety had brought in people who assumed she’d cross lines for enough dough. She’d escorted out a wife who wanted more than a divorce for infidelity, a snatch and grab scheme, a badger game offer, and one fellow she was fairly sure wanted her to kidnap someone, although she saw him out before he could get to the details.

Vic sighed and leaned back, propping her feet on the scared desk and looking out the window. The morning sun shimmered off the grim almost as brightly as the neon did after dark. The glare did nothing for her head. She un-holstered the gun on her thigh and put it aside before pulling out a smoke. Maybe she’d just close up for the day. It was early, but she’d had a long night. And she’d just made enough to keep the lights on for the week. A nice hot bath, a glass of whiskey and…there was a knock at the office door. She groaned loudly and put her boots on the floor with a thump. A second knock followed before she yelled, “come in”, already regretting the decision.

A small man wearing a terrible hair piece walked through the door. Vic considered telling him to come back tomorrow, but his suit was expensive, and he looked properly desperate. So instead, she stood up and gestured to a chair.

“How can I help you?”

“Yes, well. Yes. I need some help.” The man’s head bobbed as he looked over her threadbare sofa, dented filing cabinets, and mismatched chairs. He reminded Vic of a bird. A scrawny, nervous bird.

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what I can do for you, Mr.?”

“Harkin. Doctor Lester Harkin,” he said, lighting on the chair in front of her desk.

“Alright, Doctor Harkin, what can I do for you?”

“I’ve had a break in. Important medical files I need to get back immediately.”

“I’m not one to turn away business, but that sounds like a problem for the Arch City PD...”

“No!” She raised an eyebrow, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “I mean, I would rather handle this myself. I wouldn’t want this kind of thing going public. It would be bad for business.”

“Of course,” Vic said. But she hadn’t gotten this far in the business without knowing when she was being lied to. “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

“Medical files, important ones, were stolen from my office one week ago,” he said quickly.

“And…”

“And I need you to get them back.”

“Doctor Harkin,” Vic said with as much patience as she could muster. “If you intend for me to help you, I’ll need the whole story.”

The little doctor slumped forward, all attempts at bluster disappearing. Even his toupe seemed to wither.

“I received this yesterday,” he said. From his pocket, he pulled a single sheet of paper and handed it across the desk.

Vic read the single typed line and whistled. “A ransom? A hundred thousand for medical records?”

The doctor looked defeatedly at his feet. “They were important records.”

“Yes. Well, seems the easiest way to keep this quiet would be to pay. Worry about finding the who, and tighter security, later.”

“I…can’t do that.”

“Ah,” she said as she refolded the note. She should have closed up early.

“It’s not that I don’t have money! Well, I don’t have that kind of money, but I do have money. I can pay you.” She noticed him eyeing the revolver still laying on her desk nervously.

It was easy to see why someone would choose Lester as a mark. Too bad they didn’t check his finances first, of course. But there was something about the good doctor and his story that didn’t add up. Something besides his lying and the skinned rat on his head. Enough of a something to make Vic curious. And if there was one thing she could never pass up, it was a good mystery.

“If you want me to do this job, doctor, I’ll need all the details.” She sat back, lit a cigarette, and waited.

“It’s just, well,” he hesitated. “I need to keep this quiet.”

“Yes. You said. Bad for business.”

“Not just business. I would rather my wife didn’t find out, either.”

“Ah.” She put her feet back up on the desk. “Marriage troubles?”

“No! Well, yes. But we worked out our problems, Susanna and I. We are very good now. Very good.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. My Susanna is a dream. I know I don’t deserve her, but she loves me. She would never do anything to harm me or my business.”

“Fine. So do you have any idea who might have targeted you?”

“Well, I did borrow some money, but I paid it all back. I swear.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Banks aren’t generally the first to jump to ransom, doctor.”

“It…it wasn’t from a bank.”

Vic stood up, re-holstered her gun, and walked to the other side of the desk. She could see the sweat beading on Lester’s forehead as she leaned closer to him.

“I am happy to help you out here, Doctor Harkin, and quietly, but I can’t do my job unless you tell me everything. And I don’t take jobs I can’t do. So you either tell me the details, or go see if the Arch City PD will take your crumbs.”

“It was a lone shark. Gunnar Boros,” Harkin said. “But I swear I paid him back. Every penny. I…I had some gambling problems, but it’s under control now. I don’t want my wife finding out, though. We just worked things out.”

“And you don’t think your wife knows about your financial issues?”

“No, no. Well, yes, a little. But we worked it out,” the doctor whined. “Besides, she’s out of town right now, at her mother’s, has been all week. I would like to have this cleared up before she gets back. I just don’t want to burden her, you know? Not when we’re doing so well.”

“Mmmm.” Vic stood up again. She knew Gunnar Boros a little, and as loan sharks went, he wasn’t terrible. If the doctor had truly paid him off, Gunnar wasn’t the record thief. Harassing paying clients wasn’t good business. Wife is always a good bet, especially with husbands like this, but Mrs. Harkin was out of town for the theft. That left her with exactly no leads.

“Alright, doctor, I’ll take your case. First, we’ll need to discuss my fees, then I’ll need to make a visit to the scene of the crime.”