The Ilium Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 32

[seymoure]

J. Edgar is Listening

 

“The way to love anything is to

realize that it might be lost.”

-G. K. Chesterton

 

I had to get in touch with my friend at the FBI before we left for the Big Apple. If we were going to follow up on Mrs. Gather, and maybe get more idea about what was going on with Connie Cho, we were going to have to have a bit of an entrée.

“Rusty” Burton had been in the Treasury Department when I first met him. He had been working on a counterfeiting case, and I could smell (literally) phony cash. I had worked in a print shop in college, and somehow my nose became a gauge for real and fake bills. So Mr. Burton and I became a team for about two weeks. After we sent Nero Sargento and his mob to Federal lock up for the next few decades, Rusty said the four most important words an independent investigator can hear. “I owe you one!”

Now was the time to collect.

We walked into the Hoover fortress and were taken by how unimpressive it was compared to the other agency homes.

Hugo said, “I could never feel comfortable here in J. Edgar’s place.”

I knew how he felt. I had never worked on the other side of the law, and yet the place was not angled towards opening up to honest people anymore than crooks. They made you feel like you had done something some time in your past, and they were going to find out about it.

That was why it was so nice to see Rusty walking up to us with his hand out in a warm greeting.

“Well, my friend,” he chirped from his 5’2” frame, “I understand you are doing rather well.”

“Well, I’m here on an interesting case,” I said as I took his hand, “if that’s what you mean.”

 “I hear you’re in the moola, too!” he smirked.

“You need something?” I smiled.

“You’re the one who wanted clues,” he said. “But I’d take a new car, if they allowed it.”

“Well, they let you have Christmas presents, don’t they?”

He looked around, like he might be being spied on. “I couldn’t take that; it might look like a bribe.”

He winked at me.

“I’ll make a note of that,” I laughed. “Now, can we talk in your office?”

“I know a place we can have lunch,” he whispered and then led us out to the parking lot.

“Now, tell Hugo what kind of car you’d like,” I told him. “Then you can tell me everything you’ve got on Connie Cho and Dr. Gather. We’ll also need some leverage to work our way into the investigations in New York and London.”

“Well, a T-Bird would be perfect.” He looked as though he thought I was kidding, “And I can make some calls. But first, how’s Italian for lunch?”

Hugo beamed, “That sounds familiar.”

The three of us laughed out loud.

© C. Wayne Owens
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