The Nominee by Alan P. Woodruff

Author:Alan P. Woodruff [Woodruff, Alan P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alan P. Woodruff
Published: 2019-04-07T22:00:00+00:00

22.

It was Monday, the week before Christmas. Horse wasn’t surprised to see that the judicial docket, posted on the notice board beside the bank of elevators, didn’t show any trials commencing that week. Judges have no more interest in working over the holidays than anyone else. The judicial calendar only listed a smattering of hearings. Attorneys don’t like to work over the holidays either.

“Would you be Mister McGee?” a voice behind Horse said.

Horse turned and introduced himself to Detective Peter Gordon, retired. Gordon was unimposing in every respect. Short, no more than five-foot-seven-inches, and small framed. His face was narrow, his hair gray and thin. It was hard for Horse to imagine him as the highly regarded narcotics detective Lou Hamilton described when he arranged the meeting.

“I hope you don’t mind if we grab a quick sandwich in the canteen. I have the misfortune of being involved in one of the few cases being heard this week. The judge wants this case wrapped up today, and he only gave us forty-five minutes for lunch.”

“What kind of a case is it?” Horse asked, just to make small talk as they walked down the hallway to the canteen.

“Divorce,” Gordon said. “That’s mostly what I’ve been doing since I left the force.”

Horse resisted the temptation to say something. Surveillance in domestic relations cases was generally regarded as the bottom rung of the private investigation ladder.

Gordon seemed to read Horse’s mind. “Running around seeing who’s screwing who isn’t what I figured I’d be doing when I retired and hung out my shingle…” Gordon paused to exchange holiday greetings with a uniformed policeman. “But Palm Beach is a little different. Sometimes I think everyone on the island is sharing sausages with someone other than his or her lawful spouse. Their divorces involve big money, and I mean big money. Scorned spouses are willing to pay very well for proof that hubby has a wandering dick.”

They entered the canteen and Gordon dropped his briefcase onto a plastic chair. “What’ll you have? My treat.”

“Chicken salad on a Kaiser roll and iced tea would be fine.”

“Betty,” Gordon called out to the elderly woman behind the counter. “Two bird salads on rolls and a couple of cold teas.”

Gordon let his coat slip off his shoulders and laid it on the back of the chair where he’d dropped his briefcase. “Now what can I do for you,” he asked as he took a seat opposite Horse. “Lou Hamilton didn’t tell me much.”

“I’m interested in information on heroin trafficking.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Gordon said as if there was something nostalgic about the heroin trade. “I hear it’s still a problem down in Miami. A lot of heroin was being spread around Liberty City, but not much up here. Designer drugs and cocaine are the mind adjusters of preference among the obscenely rich.”

“What about a few years ago?”

“Now that’s a different story.” Gordon seemed to find something amusing in old memories. “Not that we had a big problem on the streets, but we had us a hell of an investigation into importing the stuff.

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