The Manifest

Chapter 6

     When Tuck arrived to the office, he had a pleasant surprise waiting for him. In the main lobby where most of the lower ranked detectives worked, there was a tray of coffees from the shop down the street. Tuck already had one in his hand, but recognized one on the tray that had his name on it. He quickly drained the one he had brought with him and then took the replacement with a surprised grin. Tuck's next surprise was waiting for him as he kept walking in. Edgar was normally the last person to arrive for work as he wasn't always the most chipper morning person. Yet there he was in his office with his own coffee, working over his computer and clicking on the mouse as if what he was doing would save his life. Tuck dropped his briefcase by his door and strolled over to the entrance to his partner's office.

     "You're up early. Is everything all right?" Tuck asked, not exactly sure what might be the problem.

     "Not really." Edgar said, clicking away at the keyboard. "That talk with Jerome really got to me last night. I've spent the better part of three hours googling piles of information about Flight 77. You wouldn't believe how many sites that are actually dedicated to proving a plane didn't hit the building!"

     "Holy crap, you're seriously not considering taking on this case?" Tuck asked, seriously concerned. He didn't like to watch Edgar get this caught up in a case, especially when all this effort couldn't lead to any billable hours.

     "I'm not going to take this case!" Edgar yelled out, trying to ease his partner and maybe even convince himself.

     "Thank goodness." Tuck said, as he let out a huge sigh of relief. "But tell me this much: why on earth are you looking up all this data when you're not going to do anything with it?"

     "I'm disturbed by it," Edgar confessed as he sat back and started to rub his eyes. "I'm the guy who's paid to smell the bullshit. We're the ones who are supposed to dig deeper and find out what's really going on. That's what we're supposed to do for a living! We're the guys other people hire to find the truth if there's any to be found, and yet the biggest cons of the century occurred years ago and right under our fucking noses! We could have questioned the truth and asked for answers, but no... we all drank willing downed fucking kool-aid like the good little lemmings we are!"

     "That's what this is about, a bruised ego?" Tuck said, not sure how to respond to his partner's sudden outrage.

     "No, it's about how I acted like such an ass." Edgar said as he turned the monitor off, "The answers to her questions were just a few clicks of the mouse away, and I brushed her off like she was on drugs."

     "Just like every other PI in the city did." Tuck responded, "She must have spent the better part of the day talking to everyone. I don't hear any of them questioning their ability to do their jobs."

     "None of them talked to Jerome Ryan last night," Edgar retorted, "That was one hell of a wake up call. I feel like an ostrich that just took its head out of the sand for the first time in forever. It's not that I'm completely sold on the issue myself, but this is enough to conclude that this girl's story might not be as preposterous as I had first written it off as."

     "And as a result you feel a little guilty, that's understandable." Tuck replied, taking a seat. "That still doesn't change the fact that she's not the kind of client we want nor can afford to take on."

     "I know that," Edgar said as he rubbed his eyes, "It still doesn't change how I feel about what happened."

     "Well, I might happen to have something will make you feel better." Tuck replied with a hint of confidence since he knew his friend well.

     "I'm not sure, but take your best shot." Edgar challenged, as he didn't seem anything would get him out of this funk.

     "I got a call," Tuck started, "From someone representing Sir Nigel Norsberg."

     "Norsberg?" Edgar repeated, looking back at his partner a hint of modest curiosity, "What the hell does that cripple old fart want?"

     "That crippled old fart has beckoned to have lunch with him tomorrow." Tuck answered, "For whatever reason, Norsberg wants to speak to us about something. The man calling on his behalf said was very important, and was very pushy about seeing us as soon as possible."

     It took a moment for Edgar to really digest this information.

     "Seriously?" Edgar said, "You're not pulling my leg here?"

     "I am not," Tuck confirmed, "Norsberg wants to do lunch."

     "For lunch, eh?" Edgar said, pondering it. "I always thought we'd never hear from him again, and now he wants to wine and dine us over lunch. That's surprising, especially how our last case with him ended."

     "Oh yeah," Tuck agreed, sighing just at the thought of it, "That was a royal fuck up if I ever saw one. Yet it seems Sir Norsberg has had a change of heart, so the least we can do is meet him for lunch at Costantini's."

     "Which happens to be my favorite Italian restaurant," Edgar said, thinking about it even more, "It takes me weeks to get a reservation and that old bastard booked it just like that." Edgar snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.

     "Odd how he picked that place, isn't it?" Tuck asked.

     "He's buttering us up," Edgar said, "He actually wants something from us, doesn't he?"

     "I certainly hope so." Tuck replied, "I miss seeing his account number on my transaction records, and am praying this is for something billable. I can't emphasize how miraculous it would be to get back in Sir Norsberg's good graces. A pocket that deep would give us enough breathing room to do some of smaller cases we really wanted to do every now and then."

     Edgar knew what he was talking about, and it was the right string to push with him at that given time "Alright, let's do it. I'm kind of curious to see what he wants anyway. It's got to be something huge for him to come back to us after what happened last time."

     Tuck drained the rest of his new coffee, "Let's not try to relive it. This is a chance to move forward and try to re-establish good relations. This could also be very profitable and good for our business."

     Edgar looked back up at him and nodded in agreement, "I'll be there and we'll do our best to get back into the old man's good books."

     "I appreciate that," Tuck said, standing to leave, "What do you have planned for this morning?"

     "I'm going to stay here and browse a little more." Edgar said, "While I'm at it I might try to figure out what that old man wants from us."

     Edgar slouched back in his chair, and started to go over the new and old stuff that was nagging him that morning. The old man wanted something, and as long as it was something tolerable, it might give his company the finances they need to perhaps pursue something they might not have considered before. Whatever the old man wanted, Edgar wasn't going to have to wait long to find out. This time tomorrow he would be in a position to find out, and at the same time he'll get those answers over some of the finest pasta in the city. Until then he had to keep his suspicions and doubts to himself and let Tuck thrive on the hope that this big fish was going to jump back into their boat. Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, Edgar chose to distract himself by watching some video on the sites that Jerome had given him the night before. As he waited for old man money bags to come to them, it was nice that he had something to distract himself as he spent the rest of his morning peeking deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole Jerome introduced him to the previous night.