Missing Amanda by Duane Lindsay

Author:Duane Lindsay
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Duane Lindsay
Published: 2017-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

23 – Of Course We’ll Need a Forger

“Of course we’ll need a forger,” Monk said.

“Of course,” agreed Lou complacently.

On the settee, sipping from a fluted champagne class, Cassidy giggled.

“A good one,” Monk clarified.

“Sure.” Lou lit a Camel, thinking about cigars.

Lately he’d been feeling that unfiltered cigarettes just didn’t fit with the whole Hilton experience. Maybe one of those new filtered ones? A Marlboro maybe. “How about Truffles?”

“Truffles?” Cassidy asked. “You know a forger named Truffles?”

“Antoine Trufout,” Lou explained, pronouncing it True-foe. “He’s a French expatriate from WW II. Came to America to practice his art.”

“Art. What does he really do?”

Monk smiled. “He makes perfect copies of great artworks and sells them as original. He does ID’s, the occasional twenty—”

“Not any more. He did five years in Joliet for that. Got out a couple of years ago after we got back from Korea.”

“Is he available?” asked Monk.

“I guess.”

“Find out, will you?”

“Sure.” Lou sat back and waited. When the silence and Monk’s bland stare eventually got through he said, “You mean now?”

“Ideally.”

“Oh. All right. Tuesday morning, I’ve gotta find a forger.” He got up and shuffled off to the bedroom. “I’ll make the calls from in here.” He closed the door behind him and Monk turned to Cassidy.

“Did you get it?”

She nodded. “The best they had – a twelve inch Magnavox. Oh, Monk, you should have seen it.” Stars appeared in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. Solid mahogany, twin speakers, built in antenna and a recessed panel that covers the screen when not in use.”

“Cassidy?”

“Hmmm...?”

“You got it delivered?”

“Yep. Right where you said.”

“And you’re going along on the delivery?”

“Sure.”

Monk was greatly pleased.

“What’s this about?” asked Cassidy. “It doesn’t make any sense that I can see.”

“Just wait and see,” said Monk. He leaned forward and poured some champagne in her glass. “It’ll be worth it.”

Cassidy Adams was having the best time. She’d already bought a Magnavox under false pretenses, lied – and convincingly – to Ralph the appliance salesman – and now she was going to see a forger named Truffles. She felt like she was in a film, maybe one of the bedroom comedies with Rock Hudson and Doris Day. She cast a sideways look at Monk, her companion in this mysterious undertaking. He so fit the role, appearance-wise at least. Big, handsome and smart, he was everything she could ask for in a leading man. But there was something about him, she thought, studying his profile. Like he’d been broken and would never be right again. The romance of that had a certain appeal, of course; all women like to think they can fix a man, but, and this was a surprising thought for her, Cassidy decided she didn’t want that sort of relationship again. Herbie, the guy in Vegas who’d taught her to deal twenty-one had his problems – like a marijuana habit that had led him to clean out her bank account one day. She hadn’t fixed him, had she? Or Keiffer the rodeo rider who’d shown her the ways of the world back in Rawlins.

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