Read Online Montaro Caine by Sidney Poitier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sidney Poitier
Ads: Link
anyone else know where he is? His wife?”
“She passed. Long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Does he have a travel agent?”
“No, his agency went out of business years ago. I usually set up his plans, but this time, he didn’t ask me, so I have no idea where he is other than what I told you. When I hear from him, I will tell him that you called and ask him to get in touch with you right away.”
“Madeline, listen,” Montaro said. “You don’t have to respond, just listen. Throw your mind back twenty-six years. I’m sure you’ll recall that winter when Professor Walmeyer and I made such nuisances of ourselves regarding a rare coin. Do you remember how we pestered Dr. Chasman to get the owner of that coin to let us have a second look at it? No matter how hard we tried, Dr. Chasman would not let us know who the owner was.
“Now, I know you know who that person is,” Montaro continued. “I’m sure you know, too, that I analyzed that object for Professor Walmeyer. Assuming the owner is still alive and has retained possession of the coin, I want you to call him and tell him this—I have just seen and done a workup on a second object that is almost identical to his, but not quite. It is certainly as authentic and, in my professional opinion, I would say their origin is probably the same. In other words, I found almost all the unusual characteristics of that first coin in the one I examined today. If he still owns the first coin, or even if he doesn’t, please give him my number. Do you understand?”
Madeline swallowed audibly before speaking softly into the phone. “As soon as I hear from Dr. Chasman, Monty, I will let him know that you have tried to reach him. Thank you.”
Gina Lao made sure that both lines had disengaged before she quietly replaced the receiver she had been listening in on, while in her boss’s office, Montaro Caine placed a call to Lawrence Aikens, Fitzer’s head of security.
6
“M ORNING , CHIEF ,” L AWRENCE A IKENS SAID AS HE PICKED UP his phone. He had been listening to a report from his security officer Curly Bennett when he saw Montaro Caine’s name appear on his caller ID. At that very moment, he told Curly that his report would have to wait. When Montaro called him directly, Aikens knew that there was an important matter he had to attend to immediately. Not only was Montaro his boss, but Aikens was a Nebraska Cornhusker, and Montaro came from Kansas City, and Aikens felt that, in New York, men from the Great Plains needed to stick together.
“Hi, Lawrence,” Caine said. “How’s the family?”
“Oh, everybody’s fine, chief,” Aikens said. Then, alluding to Fitzer’s internal situation, he asked, “How goes it with you?”
“We do what we have to do,” Caine said. “Speaking of which …”
“What can I do for you, chief?”
“I need some information.”
“You got it.”
Caine had first met Aikens sixteen years earlier, when Caine was manager of operations at Mosko Chemicals, a pint-size chemical company where Aikens was head of security. Over the years, Aikens had become both a good friend and a strong ally. And Caine, who valued Aikens’s loyalty, his honesty, and his plainspoken Nebraskaways, had brought him to Fitzer. Caine appreciated the straightforward nature of his security officer, a profession that seemed to attract a fair number of men more interested in throwing their weight around than actually solving problems. Even now, despite all the turmoil and turf wars going on at Fitzer, Aikens was one man who Montaro trusted completely.
“I need to find out everything I can about a man named Herman Freich,” Caine said. Aikens listened, jotting down pertinent information. “He’s about fifty, fifty-five years old—and a woman, maybe twenty-six, answers to Colette Beekman.
“I want to know who they are,” said Caine. “I want to know where they’re from, where they go when they leave Suite 2943 at the Waldorf Towers, what
“She passed. Long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Does he have a travel agent?”
“No, his agency went out of business years ago. I usually set up his plans, but this time, he didn’t ask me, so I have no idea where he is other than what I told you. When I hear from him, I will tell him that you called and ask him to get in touch with you right away.”
“Madeline, listen,” Montaro said. “You don’t have to respond, just listen. Throw your mind back twenty-six years. I’m sure you’ll recall that winter when Professor Walmeyer and I made such nuisances of ourselves regarding a rare coin. Do you remember how we pestered Dr. Chasman to get the owner of that coin to let us have a second look at it? No matter how hard we tried, Dr. Chasman would not let us know who the owner was.
“Now, I know you know who that person is,” Montaro continued. “I’m sure you know, too, that I analyzed that object for Professor Walmeyer. Assuming the owner is still alive and has retained possession of the coin, I want you to call him and tell him this—I have just seen and done a workup on a second object that is almost identical to his, but not quite. It is certainly as authentic and, in my professional opinion, I would say their origin is probably the same. In other words, I found almost all the unusual characteristics of that first coin in the one I examined today. If he still owns the first coin, or even if he doesn’t, please give him my number. Do you understand?”
Madeline swallowed audibly before speaking softly into the phone. “As soon as I hear from Dr. Chasman, Monty, I will let him know that you have tried to reach him. Thank you.”
Gina Lao made sure that both lines had disengaged before she quietly replaced the receiver she had been listening in on, while in her boss’s office, Montaro Caine placed a call to Lawrence Aikens, Fitzer’s head of security.
6
“M ORNING , CHIEF ,” L AWRENCE A IKENS SAID AS HE PICKED UP his phone. He had been listening to a report from his security officer Curly Bennett when he saw Montaro Caine’s name appear on his caller ID. At that very moment, he told Curly that his report would have to wait. When Montaro called him directly, Aikens knew that there was an important matter he had to attend to immediately. Not only was Montaro his boss, but Aikens was a Nebraska Cornhusker, and Montaro came from Kansas City, and Aikens felt that, in New York, men from the Great Plains needed to stick together.
“Hi, Lawrence,” Caine said. “How’s the family?”
“Oh, everybody’s fine, chief,” Aikens said. Then, alluding to Fitzer’s internal situation, he asked, “How goes it with you?”
“We do what we have to do,” Caine said. “Speaking of which …”
“What can I do for you, chief?”
“I need some information.”
“You got it.”
Caine had first met Aikens sixteen years earlier, when Caine was manager of operations at Mosko Chemicals, a pint-size chemical company where Aikens was head of security. Over the years, Aikens had become both a good friend and a strong ally. And Caine, who valued Aikens’s loyalty, his honesty, and his plainspoken Nebraskaways, had brought him to Fitzer. Caine appreciated the straightforward nature of his security officer, a profession that seemed to attract a fair number of men more interested in throwing their weight around than actually solving problems. Even now, despite all the turmoil and turf wars going on at Fitzer, Aikens was one man who Montaro trusted completely.
“I need to find out everything I can about a man named Herman Freich,” Caine said. Aikens listened, jotting down pertinent information. “He’s about fifty, fifty-five years old—and a woman, maybe twenty-six, answers to Colette Beekman.
“I want to know who they are,” said Caine. “I want to know where they’re from, where they go when they leave Suite 2943 at the Waldorf Towers, what
Similar Books
