Easy Money by Alastair Brown

Author:Alastair Brown [Brown, Alastair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strada Books
Published: 2019-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

David Maus was a quite, gentile sort of person. He was hard-working and easy-going, a real gentleman with a penchant for information that was nothing short of impressive and a sense of determination that was admirable. He had been a licensed private investigator and security guard for years, and he was good at his job.

His reach stretched the length of Michigan, but Detroit was his heartland. He worked hand in hand with the Detroit PD more often than anyone could care to count, assisting with everything from tracking down unidentified witnesses to busting down doors with case detectives to scoop up perps.

He was tall and broad shouldered. Six-four as is, six-five with thicker-heeled shoes. He was also heavy. Two hundred and fifty pounds of pure masculine bulk. Not solid muscle like Joe Beck, more like time-toughened flab that was spread proportionately around his body, giving him a thick, even, cushioned physique. Just like Beck, he had short dark hair, green eyes and a masculine face with defined cheeks and a square jaw. However, his chin was freshly shaven. He was wearing a black woolen coat, a black sweater, dark pants and black boots. And there was a black snood wrapped around his neck. On first glance, fully clothed, it would have been easy for someone to mix him up with Joe Beck. He looked almost exactly like him. But he was David Maus, not Joe Beck. And he wasn't anywhere near equipped or ready to handle the hell that was about to reign down his way.

He was sitting behind the wheel of a black Mercedes sedan, drinking a full-fat latte from a thick brown paper cup and chowing down on his third sugar ring of a supermarket box of twelve glazed donuts. A bundle of A4 papers were sitting on the front passenger's seat beside the donut box. The bundle contained information on his latest case.

The top sheet was a photo of a woman somewhere in her mid-thirties, named Arabella Fox. She was slim and pretty with long dark hair and a soft, feminine face. In the photo, she was wearing businesslike dress. A baby blue blouse, a black pencil skirt and a black pair of heels. To the unsuspecting eye, she was just another person working away to get by. But, actually, she was a criminal. And the sheets underneath her picture detailed her infractions.

She was a professional con artist who made her living by pretending to be someone else. She claimed other women's identities and took out lines of credit in their names using falsified documents she had purchased from black markets and the dark web for around fifty to a hundred bucks a pop. And, with the proceeds of her labor, she lived a lavish life filled with parties, champagne and limousine rides with affluent white businessmen who were looking for a bit on the side. All while leaving her victims buried in a worrying myriad of credit card and loan debt they knew nothing about until

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