I had traded in a complete breakfast with a beautiful young lady for a stale doughnut and a lukewarm cup of coffee with someone who was anything but beautiful.
My boss was in his late forties, maybe early fifties. He had slate gray hair, a bushy mustache, high cheekbones and deeply sunken, blue eyes — eyes not easy to trust, unless you knew him.
I knew James Howard Biel as well as anyone.
When his grant was finally approved for four special investigators — a request brought on by the infamous “sting” incident, where a champion thoroughbred was substituted for a cheap claimer in a triple race, resulting in an exorbitant payoff — I was the first one he chose, and he was in turn guided by me in his choice of the other three. That was just over a year ago.
I had been running a one-man agency for a few years after a hitch in Vietnam and had done a job for Biel, something personal, not connected with his position with the N.Y.S.R.C. He had remembered. He offered me the job, not a high-paying job, but a decent and steady paying one — and I was hungry. Maybe someday I would go back on my own — I had even maintained the rent on the office — but right now I was getting a steady salary to do what I liked to do: investigations.
“That’s breakfast?” I asked him. Actually, it was more of an accusation than a question. I was pointing at the doughnut, which I could tell was stale just by looking at it, and the coffee, which had no steam rising from it.
“You could stand to lose some weight, Hank.”
I resented the remark, but kept my reaction to myself. Maybe, just maybe, I was getting a little heavy, but I was almost thirty.
I took a seat and sipped my coffee. After making a face I asked, “What’s it all about, sir?”
“Don’t call me ‘sir’,” he told me seriously. “Look, a friend of mine needs some help, Hank. He’s been to the police, but they cannot do anything for him. He was going to go to a private detective, but I don’t want some shyster ripping him off.”
I frowned, wondering if I hadn’t somehow just been insulted, but he jumped in before I could comment.
“Not all private investigators are as honest as you are, pal.”
“Unfortunately,” I remarked. I decided to try the doughnut and regretted it after one bite.
“Who’s this friend of yours, sir, and what’s his problem?” We were friends, but he was also my employer. I never called him anything but ‘sir’.
“His name is Benjamin Hopkins. I’m sure you know the name.”
I did.
“Sure, he’s one of the top trainers in the business. Owns and trains Penny’s Penny. I didn’t know he had any friends.” That is, if I was to believe all of the bad press he got.
Biel smiled at that.
“He doesn’t have very many, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “We became friends at an earlier time, when we were both much younger and different people,” he continued. “Old friendships die hard, Hank, isn’t that what they say?”
I couldn’t remark on that. I didn’t have any old friendships. Shit, I had damned few of any kind.
“In any case, Benny’s problem is his daughter.”
“What about her?”
“She’s missing — or at least, he thinks she’s missing. She left the house yesterday afternoon, around twelve, and hasn’t returned. He went to the police last night, but they told him they couldn’t do anything and suggested he hire a private investigator.”
“That means she’s over eighteen, right?”
He nodded. “Nineteen, to be exact. He phoned me last night to see if I knew a good detective. I persuaded him to abandon that idea and allow me to send him one of my investigators.”
“Ah, me, right?”
“Well, Hank, if you were still on your own I would have recommended you anyway. This way, you do the job as a favor to me, while on salary.” He paused, then added, “I would appreciate it if you would do whatever you could.”
He knew I wouldn’t refuse. For the most part, we maintained an employer/employee relationship, but he was one of those damned few friends I said I had.
“I’ll go see him this morning,” I promised.
He smiled and told me, “He’s expecting you. Penny’s Penny is supposed to work out this morning, at Island Downs’ Breakfast with The Thoroughbreds.”
“Okay,” I said, rising, “maybe I’ll finally get to eat breakfast after all.”