Read Online Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine by Bernard Schaffer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bernard Schaffer
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just bail on his wife, and he wouldn't just bail on me."
"All right, Jack, all right, calm down," Miller said softly. "I'm sure he's fine."
"If he is fine, he's not going to be after I catch up to him," Jack muttered.
"I bet," Miller said. "Here's the problem. We can't enter him as missing or endangered without something more substantial than some Asian babe grabbed him at a bar. That means we'd have to do an administrative investigation, which is going to result in people above me asking why he isn't responding to a court-mandated subpoena to be at your trial. If he's absent without leave, and we find him holed up in some motel with this girl, he's done. They'll fire him on the spot."
"There has to be something, Captain," Jack said.
Miller picked up his phone and typed in a series of numbers, waiting as it rang. There was a brief pause then Miller said, "Sparky? It's The Tuna."
Jack could hear the laugh on the other end of the line and a man said, "How the hell are you, Phil?"
"I'm good, but I've got an issue, and I need a little discreet help on it. Does Herb Benedict have a department issued phone? He's a detective for me over here at Violent Crimes." Miller looked at Jack as he waited for an answer and then he said, "Good. Is it one of those new smart gadgets? Excellent. Here's the thing." Miller paused, cradling his phone in his palm and keeping his voice low, "The big galoot dropped it somewhere and he can't find it. He's got all sorts of sensitive information on it, including home numbers and addresses for all the big bosses. Now I know this is outside of the usual parameters, and I'm asking you to put your neck out, but I'd like to keep this off the books. Understand?"
"You want me to kill the phone? That's easy. I can do that remotely."
"No, not exactly. We need what's on it for this big trial we're in the middle of. Keenan Marvin, maybe you heard?" Miller looked at Jack and rolled his eyes, knowing he was putting himself squarely inside the jackpot now right next to her. "Yeah, I know, he's an idiot, and he's going to pay, trust me. Can you find the phone for me?"
"When do you need it by?"
"Yesterday," Miller said.
There was a brief pause on the other end and the voice said, "You still a Johnnie Walker man?"
"Yeah," Miller said.
"Red label?"
"Actually, Double-Black now, when I can afford it."
"That's funny. I am too."
Miller sighed and said, "All right, you pirate. Get me that phone, pronto, and I'll send you a bottle." He hung up and looked at Jack, "We'll have this figured out by this afternoon, okay?"
Jack shot up from her chair and wrapped her arms around the Captain, thanking him profusely. "Let me know as soon as you find anything."
"Of course," Miller said. "What are you going to do about court, though? Isn't Herb supposed to be getting back on the stand?"
"Let me worry about that," Jack said. "I've got everything under control."
Jack pushed through the heavy wooden doors of the courtroom and nodded at the cops sitting in the audience. There was a witness on the stand, busy describing his many years of expertise as a forensic examiner for the National Firearms and Ballistics Center of Sheboygan, Wisconsin, or some such place. Alan Davidson looked back in annoyance at Jack, taking the time to shake his head dismissively in front of the jury as she tried to slip past the gate. He did everything but look at them and say, "Folks, I apologize for the prosecution's lack of professionalism."
Jack slid into her seat and Joel Roth gritted his teeth and muttered, "Where the hell have you been?"
"Working on something," Jack whispered.
"Tell me you brought your partner in with you, because he's missing too."
"Well, that's sort of what I was working on," Jack said.
"Where the hell is he?"
"I don't know. But we are looking for him. We should have him by this afternoon."
Roth was squeezing the pencil in his hand so hard it looked like it might begin to spool out the lead inside like
"All right, Jack, all right, calm down," Miller said softly. "I'm sure he's fine."
"If he is fine, he's not going to be after I catch up to him," Jack muttered.
"I bet," Miller said. "Here's the problem. We can't enter him as missing or endangered without something more substantial than some Asian babe grabbed him at a bar. That means we'd have to do an administrative investigation, which is going to result in people above me asking why he isn't responding to a court-mandated subpoena to be at your trial. If he's absent without leave, and we find him holed up in some motel with this girl, he's done. They'll fire him on the spot."
"There has to be something, Captain," Jack said.
Miller picked up his phone and typed in a series of numbers, waiting as it rang. There was a brief pause then Miller said, "Sparky? It's The Tuna."
Jack could hear the laugh on the other end of the line and a man said, "How the hell are you, Phil?"
"I'm good, but I've got an issue, and I need a little discreet help on it. Does Herb Benedict have a department issued phone? He's a detective for me over here at Violent Crimes." Miller looked at Jack as he waited for an answer and then he said, "Good. Is it one of those new smart gadgets? Excellent. Here's the thing." Miller paused, cradling his phone in his palm and keeping his voice low, "The big galoot dropped it somewhere and he can't find it. He's got all sorts of sensitive information on it, including home numbers and addresses for all the big bosses. Now I know this is outside of the usual parameters, and I'm asking you to put your neck out, but I'd like to keep this off the books. Understand?"
"You want me to kill the phone? That's easy. I can do that remotely."
"No, not exactly. We need what's on it for this big trial we're in the middle of. Keenan Marvin, maybe you heard?" Miller looked at Jack and rolled his eyes, knowing he was putting himself squarely inside the jackpot now right next to her. "Yeah, I know, he's an idiot, and he's going to pay, trust me. Can you find the phone for me?"
"When do you need it by?"
"Yesterday," Miller said.
There was a brief pause on the other end and the voice said, "You still a Johnnie Walker man?"
"Yeah," Miller said.
"Red label?"
"Actually, Double-Black now, when I can afford it."
"That's funny. I am too."
Miller sighed and said, "All right, you pirate. Get me that phone, pronto, and I'll send you a bottle." He hung up and looked at Jack, "We'll have this figured out by this afternoon, okay?"
Jack shot up from her chair and wrapped her arms around the Captain, thanking him profusely. "Let me know as soon as you find anything."
"Of course," Miller said. "What are you going to do about court, though? Isn't Herb supposed to be getting back on the stand?"
"Let me worry about that," Jack said. "I've got everything under control."
Jack pushed through the heavy wooden doors of the courtroom and nodded at the cops sitting in the audience. There was a witness on the stand, busy describing his many years of expertise as a forensic examiner for the National Firearms and Ballistics Center of Sheboygan, Wisconsin, or some such place. Alan Davidson looked back in annoyance at Jack, taking the time to shake his head dismissively in front of the jury as she tried to slip past the gate. He did everything but look at them and say, "Folks, I apologize for the prosecution's lack of professionalism."
Jack slid into her seat and Joel Roth gritted his teeth and muttered, "Where the hell have you been?"
"Working on something," Jack whispered.
"Tell me you brought your partner in with you, because he's missing too."
"Well, that's sort of what I was working on," Jack said.
"Where the hell is he?"
"I don't know. But we are looking for him. We should have him by this afternoon."
Roth was squeezing the pencil in his hand so hard it looked like it might begin to spool out the lead inside like
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