Scam

scooped up the phone and punched in a number. “Mr. Pritchert? There’s a Harold Bainbridge here to see you.” She listened a moment, then said, “And what is this in regard to, Mr. Bainbridge?”
    “An investment.”
    She relayed that message, and got another earful from Cranston Pritchert. “What kind of an investment, Mr. Bainbridge?”
    “I prefer to keep that confidential. If Mr. Pritchert can give me a moment of his time, I’d appreciate it. Otherwise, I suppose I could come back.”
    I figured that would work.
    It didn’t.
    “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said, after relaying the message, “but Mr. Pritchert would have to know what this is about before he’d be willing to grant you an appointment. Could you tell me generally what it is in which you’d like to invest?”
    “Singles bars.”
    Pritchert was out in fifteen seconds, white as a sheet. If the sight of me was any relief to him, you wouldn’t have known it. If anything, it only panicked him more.
    “Aha,” he said. “Aha. Mr. …?”
    “Bainbridge.”
    “Yes. Bainbridge. You wanted to see me?”
    “Yes, I did. Do you suppose we could talk about it in your office?”
    “Oh,” Pritchert said. He thought a moment, and added, “Oh.”
    I marched over to him, took his hand, and shook it. I said, “I really appreciate your giving me the time.”
    Now I had hold of him, I figured I’d just push him in the direction of his office. Before I could, two men came down the hall, one short and stocky, one tall and thin. At least, tall by ordinary standards—he was half a head shorter than Pritchert.
    “Hey, Cranston,” the tall one said. “You got a live one there?”
    “Nice talk,” the short, stocky one said. He was a solid man, with hard eyes and a little black mustache. He extended his hand. “I’m Kevin Dunbar. Mr. …?”
    “Bainbridge. Harold Bainbridge.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bainbridge. This is Marty Rothstein. If there’s anything our firm can do for you …”
    “That’s very nice of you,” I said, “but I just want to talk to Mr. Pritchert.”
    “About an investment?”
    “Of course.”
    Marty Rothstein smiled. “That’s fine, Mr. Bainbridge. But we want you to realize. When you deal with us, you’re not just hiring a broker. You’re in partnership with the whole firm. Anything we can do for you, you have only to ask.”
    “That’s nice to know,” I said.
    I grabbed Cranston Pritchert by the elbow, practically dragged him down the hall, where he recovered his wits enough to at least guide me into the proper office. He slammed the door, then wheeled around and towered over me.
    The color had returned to his cheeks. Now they were progressing toward red. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
    “Trying to help you.”
    “Help me? What, are you nuts? Help me?”
    “You hired me to do a job. I’m trying to do it.”
    “I hired you to find the girl. That’s what you should be doing. I told you not to come here.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    “And you came here anyway. Which was the last thing I wanted. And then you ran into them. Do you know who those guys were? Do you know who you were talking to?”
    “Sure. The other two vice-presidents. You told me all about them.”
    “Did I tell you we’re in a proxy fight and there’s an election coming up? Did I tell you that? Did I tell you I can’t bear a hint of scandal? And then you come walking in here and blow the whole thing.”
    “Give me a break. I didn’t blow anything. I’m just another investor. All you gotta do is play along.”
    “I told you I couldn’t do that.”
    “Yeah, well, you got no choice. It turned out I had to see you.”
    “Why?”
    “I found out who sent the letter.”
    “What?”
    “The extortion letter. I found out who sent it.”
    He stared at me. “What?”
    “I found out who sent the extortion letter.”
    He blinked. “How did you do that?”
    “Actually, it was rather easy.”
    “Oh yeah. So who sent it?”
    “You did.”
    “What?”
    “I don’t know why you did, but you did. I don’t like being played for a patsy, and that’s why I’m here.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “I agree. It’s totally ridiculous. If you want to pay me good money to find out why you sent yourself an extortion letter, well, that’s your business. But when the clues lead back to you, that’s mine. Now, you wanna keep playing games, or you wanna sit down and talk this over?”
    “I have no