Chapter Seven
“If we don’t drum up more business,” Declan shouted from his office, “we might as well just lock the doors.”
Mrs Beckerman sat at her desk and sighed. It was early Friday morning and she could tell that Declan had just checked next week’s schedule. Charlie poked his head out through the door of his office. She held up her hand to suggest that he should just stay put. She would handle it.
Mrs B made her way to Declan’s office door. “They can’t all be earth-shattering cases. I remember a time when we got along quite happily on the little ones.”
Declan stared at his desk calendar.
“You know what the big problem is, don’t you?” she asked.
“We need better clients, with better cases, that pay better,” he replied.
“No,” she shot back.
It was like dealing with a petulant child.
“The cash flow is actually up from last year at this time. The problem is you haven’t been in the press lately and you’re not used to it.
Here,” she said, handing him a file. “It just came in. It’s not a kidnapping or a murder—not even an unlawful dismissal, but it could be interesting if you want to do the work. ”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Well, you’ll just have to read it to find out, but they asked for you specifically,” she replied.
“I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it,” Charlie called out from his office.
“Let me look at it first,” Declan yelled back.
He scanned the contents of the file folder—a single piece of paper with a long email, addressed to Declan Hunt Investigations.
After a few seconds he closed the folder and looked up at her.
His face read somewhere between disdain and disbelief.
“Is this what it’s come to? Babysitting kids! ”
“I’ll take it if he won’t,” Charlie called out again as he appeared in the doorway. “I’m not too proud.”
“Pride has nothing to do with it,” Declan said. “I have to think of the company’s reputation.”
“It is not a babysitting job,” Mrs B said.
“What else would you call having to look after a seventeen-year-old girl while she moves into her university dorm?”
“Sounds like a babysitting job,” Charlie said to her with a smirk on his face.
Mrs B ignored the comment. “She’s the daughter of a wealthy businessman and she’ll be going to the University of Calgary to study Commerce and Trade.”
“Why us?” Declan asked.
“As you would have seen if you’d read the full document, Mr Slate said he doesn’t want a fuss made, and he’d heard that our firm is known for discretion.
It appears he works for a small mining firm and is being sent to China for a month on business.
He wants to make sure nothing happens to his daughter, Jules.
Apparently, there have been concerns about her personal safety in the past.”
Declan handed her back the file.
“Babysitting,” Declan and Charlie said in unison before Charlie headed back into his office.
“Daddy probably just doesn’t want her to get drunk and do something that’ll jeopardise his reputation,” Declan added.
Mrs B sighed again. “Did you ever consider that she might just be a mature, responsible young adult? They do make them that way, you know.” She turned and headed back to her desk muttering, “Not that you’d know that from what I’ve seen around here lately.”
She sat at her desk and began to answer emails, typing a little harder than she intended to. Her work was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. She looked up. Declan was standing in his doorway.
“I’m sorry, Mrs B. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He gingerly approached her desk. “What else do we know about this Slate guy, or his daughter Jules?”
“So, I’m the detective now?”
“I just wondered if he’d said something in passing when you spoke to him…”
“I didn’t speak to him. He just sent that email.
Everything I know is in the folder I gave you.
He said he felt it would be worth whatever you charge to make sure his ex-wife didn’t do anything to his daughter while he was away.
If you want to know more, you…or the other one, can find out on your own.
Whatever is going on, his money is as good as anyone else’s.
And maybe he won’t be as difficult as some of your previous clients.
Now, if you don’t mind, I am going downstairs for a coffee. ”
Mrs B abruptly stood and walked past Declan. She pulled open the office door revealing a young woman whose hand was raised to knock. She was casually dressed in runners, jeans and a tight-fitting, white tank top.
“If you’re looking for a detective, they’re just in there,” Mrs B said, flicking her head in the general direction of the office before stomping down the stairs.
* * * *
Charlie heard a voice in the outer office. “I’d like to speak to Mr Watts, if he’s in.”
“Over here,” Charlie called, poking his head out of his door.
She walked toward him. “Charles Watts?”
“It’s Charlie. May I help you?”
She handed him an envelope. “Congratulations. You’ve been served.”
“What?”
The woman put her hands up and said, “Don’t shoot the messenger.” Then she spun on her heels and left.
Charlie opened the envelope and read the paper inside. His heart began to race. He looked at Declan. “I’m being sued by Rick Frazer. He was the guy I was investigating for cheating on his husband. His ex is suing him for everything—the house, half their savings and their car.”
“Ouch,” Declan said. “Didn’t they drive a Maserati?”
“He’s suing me for a million dollars in damages!” Saying it out loud made Charlie feel like he was going to faint.
“Here, let me see,” Declan said as he took the paper from him and read. “It seems legit. Look, when Mrs B gets back up here, I’ll have her get our lawyer on the line. I think we’ll need to set up a meeting.”
“What?”
“Congratulations, Pinocchio. You’re not a real detective until someone tries to sue you.” Declan patted Charlie on the back. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sued. Look, as long as you were doing your job by the book, it’ll be okay.”
Charlie went back to his office and sat in his chair behind his desk.
His thoughts swirled. Had he been doing everything by the book?
He was pretty sure he had, but if not, he’d probably lose his licence and his job because of this.
Declan would probably hire someone else to replace him—someone young and cute, and Declan would fall in love with him.
And where would that leave Charlie? Alone.
Homeless. Carrie might take him back in with her but she was probably enjoying having her space to herself.
If that was the case, he’d have to move back into his parents’ basement.
His dad, Ted, would like that. He could hold it over Charlie’s head until the day he died.
Ted would introduce him as “My unemployed son who threw away a promising career.”
Charlie had to find some way to prove to Declan that he was worth keeping.
Declan knocked on the door jamb of Charlie’s office. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Charlie lied.
Declan sat in the spare chair. “Look, how about if we just focus on this new case?”
“So you’re going to take it?” Charlie asked.
“No. I think it would be a better case for you.”
“For me? But I’m being sued. Won’t I lose my licence if I’m found guilty?”
Declan laughed. “If every detective that did their job and pissed somebody off lost their licence, there wouldn’t be a decent PI left standing.
Just think of yourself as being in the company of the best that this country has to offer.
Now, getting back to the babysitting job.
It would make more sense for you to take it.
You’re closer to her age and it won’t look so obvious that you’re protecting her if you’re on campus.
I’d probably stick out like a sore thumb.
We could even get you a room in a co-ed dorm if necessary… ”
“They’re called ‘gender-neutral’ now. The dorms…”
“See, I didn’t know that. That’s why you’re perfect for the job,” Declan said, nodding.
Charlie heard the main office door open. Mrs B stuck her head into his office and silently handed them cups of coffee.
“Thanks,” Declan said, smiling at her. “By the way, can you call our lawyer? Charlie’s being sued.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Charlie?”
“I’m sure Mr What-ever-his-name-is—”
“Our lawyer’s name is Harold Vanstone.”
“Right. I’m sure Mr Vanstone’ll have no problem convincing the guy to drop the charges—”
“Against Charlie!” she repeated, shaking her head, then went to her desk.
“Thank you, Mrs B,” Charlie called out. “Can you also set up an appointment with Mr Slate and his daughter? Their case could be worthwhile after all.”
“I set up the appointment before I gave Declan the file,” she replied. “Jules will be in on Monday morning.”
“Thanks, Mrs B,” Charlie said.
He heard her pick up the phone. “This is Joan Beckerman from Declan Hunt Investigations for Mr Vanstone… Yes. I’ll hold…
Harold? Joan here. I was hoping that you’d be a dear and look into a little problem for us?
… No, surprisingly enough it has nothing to do with Declan.
It’s our newest staff member, Charlie Watts.
Someone is suing him for damages… Monday afternoon would be great.
Harold, you are a doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you. ”