The atmosphere at Costantini's was what made it one of the most sought after restaurants in the city. With its quiet and very private setting along with the nice home like atmosphere and fantastic food; it was a place where people could meet to converse without being interrupted and also wanted a little privacy while dining out. Edgar had only been here three times before, one reason was because of the wait list to make reservations, but the price of the food also had something to do with it as well. As he and Tuck walked in, the maître d' met them before they even had a chance to take off their coats.
"Sir Norsberg is waiting," he said, snatching their coats from them, "Please follow me."
The two men followed the maître d' as he led them past all the usual tables and towards the most expensive and private room in the building. In there sipping on a small glass of dry white wine was Sir Nigel Norsberg. The old man seemed to be in a pleasant mood as he waved and gestured the men join him at the table to join him.
"It is so nice to see you again," Norsberg said, as the two men sat down. The old man then turned his attention to the maître d', "Thank you for your hospitality. We'd like a little privacy."
The maître d' made a slight bow and then closed the doors on his way out. Edgar wasn't even aware that the place had private rooms, but Norsberg seemed to be on the A list in order to get it on such short notice.
"I'm sure you are both very curious to why I have called you here." Norsberg continued, "But I suggest we all eat first then we'll talk business. I've taken the pleasure in ordering for you. I remember what you guys had the last time you where here; I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not," Tuck said, tossing a napkin on his lap. "I'm flattered that you remember what we ordered."
"It was hard not to forget," Norsberg replied, "Mr. Willis ordered the most expensive items on the menu."
A few moments later, they were served their amazing entrees. It smelled great and tasted even better, but several bites into their delectable pastas Edgar couldn't help himself.
"I'm sorry Norsberg," Edgar started, "but curiosity is getting the best of me. I was under the impression that we would never hear from you again and yet here we are eating a great meal, your treat of course."
"Of course," Sir Norsberg agreed with a grin, "I knew this would be a good peace offering so that I can hire you to do a job for me. I thought this setting might also be necessary since I'm under the impression this particular job might require a little arm twisting to get you on board."
"You see," Edgar said as he was munching on a piece of magnificent Brushetta bread, "He's here to smooch us up for something big. What happened to make you want to seek us out?"
"I can't help but agree with Edgar." Tuck said, sipping his wine, "Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that we're talking again. I also appreciate the second chance and hope that this case will prove to you that the last time was a fluke."
"Glad to hear it boys," Sir Norsberg said, draining what was left of his glass. "That was exactly the kind of attitude I was hoping to get from the both of you. Especially since I thought you were going to reject my proposal regardless of how much money I offered."
"What made you think we might reject your offer?" Tuck asked, his curiosity also getting the best of him.
"Well, you were less than receptive when Ms. Johnson brought it to your attention a few days ago." Norsberg said, sitting back and waiting for the light bulbs turn on above their heads.
It was now Edgar's turn to polish off his glass, which he did despite it being nearly full. He paused for a moment and then asked, "How do you know Jessica Johnson?"
"Oh, I don't know her," Norsberg confessed, "Only of her. I got to watch a very fascinating video tape from the police station that was delivered to me by one of my numerous sources there. The tape caught poor Ms. Johnson making a rather heartfelt plea to the local authorities. I was also told by my source that she also approached several private investigators, but found no takers. Since one of the offices she happened to pitch was old acquaintance of mine, you seemed like the perfect people to approach regarding this matter. I know you two had the honor of meeting her, so I would like to know why you turned her down."
Tuck tried to seem diplomatic said, "Well, you see we were just..."
"Shut up, Tuck." Edgar interrupted. "You know we turned it down because there was no money to be made. As interesting as the case might be, we can't do the kind of work she was asking for without serious financial backing, which was something that Ms. Johnson seriously lacked."
"I appreciate your honest, Edgar." the old man concurred, "Financial backing, however, is not something I lack."
Tuck covered his mouth in shock to prevent him from spitting out his food, "You want to finance her case?" he couldn't believe the words were coming from his mouth.
"Sorry for taking a gift horse in the mouth," Edger said, as he wasn't sure what was going on. "But why do you want to be the founder of this needle in a haystack hunt? As much as want to take your money, and believe me I want to take it by the truck load, I'm not comfortable getting involved in anything unless I know what your motives are. You know that."
"Yes, I do." Norsberg responded, fully aware of how the two men worked. He opened an attaché in the chair beside him and took out a piece of paper, "It took a lot of arm twisting to get this, but to be honest it's been in my possession for years. I give this to you as a sign of my true motives."
"What is it?" Tuck said as Edgar spanned over the list.
"It's a manifest." Norsberg responded rather quickly.
"Not just any manifest." Edgar said as he looked up with utter disbelief, "This is the manifest for Flight 77."
"Yes, it is." Norberg added, "And that is not the same as the cookie cutter copy that was given to the media outlets. This one came straight from the top and has never been touched by a permanent marker. I don't think I need to tell you how much I had to spend to get a copy of it."
The old man sat there, waiting for Edgar to find something in the list, something that would tell the investigator why he was interested in this matter. When Edgar found it moments later, he tried to be as professional as possible and hide the shock that came with this discovery.
"What's the relation?" he asked, pointing to a name on the list.
"Relation? Who's on the list?" Tuck asked, swiping the piece paper away from Edgar. It took Tuck a few moments to find it, but there it was right in the middle of the manifest. It was the kind of name that was almost impossible to miss: Helene Norsberg.
"Helene was my only child," the old man replied, "She was going to California to visit her half-brother, a sibling from her mother's second marriage." Sir Norsberg paused as this was a difficult story to tell, "I offered to let her use the private plane, but she refused to be pampered. She wouldn't even let me buy her ticket because she was afraid I would book first class. The last thing she ever told me was to take my vast wealth and to shove it up my posterior."
"I like her already," Edgar said, impressed by the nerve it would take someone to say that to someone like Norsberg.
"So she was on flight 77," Tuck said, putting the manifest down on the table, "Just like Mrs. Johnson?"
"She was," Norsberg confirmed, "When the incident occurred, her mother never forgave me. I haven't been able forgive myself, and for this reason you're going to dig into that haystack and keep digging until I'm fully satisfied that everything has been done to find the truth."
"I get it, Norsberg." Edgar said, "But what exactly are you asking us to do for you?"
"In order to look for my daughter," Norsberg started, "You need personal information that I am not able to provide and no one for the ex-wife's side of the family is going to give you that information without asking why. The best way to get anyone to open up and co-operate with any kind of investigation would be to find proof that this isn't some wild goose chase"
"I get it," Tuck said, "If we can locate and prove that Ms. Johnson's mother is still alive, it's proof that your daughter might be alive too."
"Precisely," Norsberg agreed, "With that, we could convince my former wife and her family that Helene could still be alive as well. Only then would they be willing to help us locate her. If she was going to make any contact at all, it will be through them. We're not on good terms before the crash so you can only imagine how relations are now."
"I think I can see where you're going with this," Edgar said as he took another look at the list, "You don't want to put your own family through this kind of hell only for it to turn out to be a hoax. You'd rather let someone else go first before dragging your own people into this mess."
"I'm sure Ms. Johnson wouldn't have a problem with that. She's begging for help and I'm willing to give it to her, through you two of course." Norsberg took out a blank piece of paper and a pen, "I don't want her to know I am involved. As far as she, the police and especially the government are concerned, you've both had a change of heart and decided to help the poor girl for free. Is that Understood?"
The two men nodded in full agreement as Norsberg passed the paper and pen to Edgar.
"Outstanding." Norsberg said, "Now all I need is a number. How much will it take to get your full co-operation, and don't half ass it. I only want to make one investment. I don't want you two coming back weeks later saying you're out of funds. And if anyone manages to find out where you got it this money, tell them it's for private services rendered over the last two years for the usual fronts in question."
"Alright then," Edgar said as he put down his fork. He picked up then pen and wrote something down on the small sliver of paper and passed it over to the old man.
Norsberg took a look at the number and smiled back. Edgar expected a counter proposal, and thought he was getting one as Norsberg wrote down a new number on the same piece of paper and passed it over to Mr. Tucker. Tuck took the edited number and handed it back to Edgar.
"Is this going to be all right?" Tuck asked.
"It will do," Edgar answered, "Considering that it's double of the amount that I originally asked for."
Norsberg, very full of himself at that moment, smiled back at the two gentlemen. "When it's all said and done, that's merely a drop in the bucket. What I'm buying is hope, and that doesn't come by very often. I wanted to make it perfectly clear to you both how serious I am concerning this matter. As of right now, you don't have a bigger case. I would like this to be your highest priority, but don't make it look like it. Hire more people from the outside and keep everyone in your office working on normal cases. Give anyone who might start watching you the impression that only minimal expenses are being put into this case. The money will be wired to your account, via Dryden Supplies as usual. You know the drill if anyone comes around asking tough questions."
"We're alright with that and know the drill." Edgar said as he kept looking at the manifest, "Do we get to keep this?"
"Yes, that one is only a facsimile." Norsberg answered, "I have the original at my home."
"Okay," Edgar said, "Thank you."
Norsberg put down what he was eating and seemed more serious than before, "From here on out, I want you two to have minimal contact with me after this meeting. I will be sending my people to you for updates whenever needed. I may call on occasion, but not that often. If you require any arm twisting beyond your own powers, I can be of help as long as the request is reasonable and will raise little suspicion. Are we clear on this?"
"Crystal." Edgar said, "But I have a few conditions of my own."
"I'm listening," Norsberg replied, awaiting his terms.
"I'm in charge." Edgar started. "I'm the one looking into things and we're the ones who are going to be on the front line. This means when it comes crunch time, I make the major decisions that affect the case and our business."
"That seems fair," Norsberg said, despite the fact it wasn't an easy concession for him to make. "Anything else, Mr. Willis?"
Edgar paused for a moment, "Any money that is left over when this is all done is considered a bonus for a job well done."
"Agreed," Norsberg said, smiling at them. "It sounds like we have an agreement, gentlemen."
"We do." Tuck said as he extended a hand to the old man, and they shook on it. They went back to eating their meal and a few moments later, Norsberg excused himself and was gone. The two men sat there and went over what had just happened.
"What do you think of this Edgar?" Tuck asked his partner.
"It's risky." Edgar said, as he polished off his pasta, "We are going to be the ones asking the questions no one wants us to be asked. Don't be surprised if official or unofficial government people get in our faces and start to apply pressure to make us walk away. Are you ready for that kind of case?"
"Do you want to tell Norsberg to stick it?" Tuck said waving the piece of paper with the obscenely large number on it around.
"Not really," Edgar said, as he took the piece of paper back from Tuck and gazed at it again with admiration. "I like zeros, especially when they come before the decimal point."
"I do too," Tuck admitted, taking a peek at the number again.
Edgar took out his cell phone, dialed a number and passed the piece of paper with the number on it as he waited for someone to pick up. "Devon? Hey there, it's Edgar. No, I'm not calling to talk to you about that. Seriously, I've got a job that requires a man of your specific expertise. There's no bond, and the offer is cash upfront and a fat bonus if the person in question is found and recovered. I thought you'd like the sound of that. No, I want the entire team. I'm dead serious. Meet us at the office in five hours. See you there."
"Devon Brown?" Tucker said, shocked beyond belief. "I thought you two hated each other."
"We do," Edgar confirmed, "But he's just like us; Uncle Ben rules."
As they both stood up to leave, Edgar took out that twenty that Tuck gave him the night before and laid it on the table, to add to the considerable tip that Norsberg had left already. He looked back to his partner who seemed to still be in awe of what just transpired.
"I'm going to the station to recruit someone else for this job." Edgar told his partner. "Go over to our bank and wait for the money to transfer from Norsberg, which I'm sure he'll do it immediately just to get our asses into gear."
"What do you want me to do once it arrives?" Tuck asked. He had some ideas but want to inquire to see if Edgar was already on the same page.
"Take half of it and transfer it to our secret account in the Caribbean." Edgar replied, "Then I'd like you to take out another quarter and stash the cash with a few of our dummy companies. This way someone won't be able to freeze all our funds in one fowl swoop of the keyboard. I'll meet you at the office in a few hours."
Tuck nodded in agreement and the two men left the private room on their way to get things started.