Read Online The Last Private Eye by John Birkett - Free Book Online

sideboard that held whiskey bottles, decanters, glasses. His back turned, he began to mix a drink. “You like bourbon, Mr. Rhineheart?”
    â€œLove it,” Rhineheart said.
    â€œI thought you looked like a drinking man,” Kingston said. “As a matter of fact, someone told me you liked to drink a little.” He turned and held up a bottle. “Eight-year-old hundred-proof bottled in bond suit you?”
    â€œI’ll pass,” Rhineheart said.
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œPositive.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Mr. Rhineheart? I thought you said you were a bourbon man.”
    â€œI gave it up for Lent,” Rhineheart said.
    Kingston snickered. “I believe you having me on, Mr. Rhineheart. But that’s all right. What’s life without a little joke, huh?” He returned to the desk with a tall glass in his hand. “You don’t mind me having one, do you?”
    â€œKnock yourself out,” Rhineheart said. He jerked a thumb at the goon. “Maybe Mr. Borchek would like one.”
    â€œMr. Borchek doesn’t drink. At any rate, he’s on duty.” Kingston sipped his drink, set the glass down on the desk, and cleared his throat. “Let’s get down to cases, Mr. Rhineheart. One of my stable hands is missing, disappeared into thin air, and this TV lady decides to hire a private detective to find him. That’s fine, but all this occurs in the midst of the most important week of the year. It’s only six days to the Derby. You got any conception what winning the Kentucky Derby means to a horseman, mistah?”
    Rhineheart nodded. It was, he knew, the stuff that dreams were made of.
    â€œI’m going to be brutally honest with you, Mr. Rhineheart. The Derby means more to me than just about anything. My lifelong ambition is to win it. I’d do just about anything to accomplish that goal. Maybe Jessica’s already told you that. There’s people say I’m something of a fanatic when it comes to the Derby. They may be right. I’ve entered horses in it that didn’t have a prayer or a blind hope. All ’cause I wanted to win it so bad. Now, for the first time in years, I think I got a decent shot at it with Royal Dancer. I know the so-called experts don’t think much of his chances, but he’s the best horse I ever owned, a genuine stakes winner, and I want him to have his chance. I don’t want any kind of disruption. That’s why I’m prepared to double whatever salary this woman’s paying you and offer you an additional ten-thousand-dollar bonus if you can find Carl Walsh before Thursday.”
    â€œWhy Thursday?” Rhineheart asked.
    â€œThursday,” Kingston said, “is the day they draw for post for the race. It’s also the day of Jessica’s big Derby party. I want everything smooth from then on out.”
    Rhineheart wanted to get it straight. “You asked me out here to offer me this?”
    Kingston nodded. “Ten thousand dollars is a hell of a lot of money.”
    Rhineheart nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “it is, isn’t it.”
    Kingston smiled. “I thought you might think so.” He took a cigar out of the box and rolled it between his fingers. “And here’s the thing, Mr. Rhineheart . . . I don’t see any need to inform Mizz Sullivan about this. Or Jessica. It can be a little arrangement between us. A confidential matter.” He paused. “What do you say?”
    It was, Rhineheart knew, way too early in the game to be laying down any cards. “I’ll give it some thought,” he said.
    â€œFair enough,” Kingston said. He stood up. “Get back to me on this, Mr. Rhineheart, and we’ll work something out.” He gestured to Borchek, who walked over and opened the door and stood there holding it open.
    It looked as if the interview or meeting or whatever the hell it had been was over. Rhineheart stood