The Anonymous Client

I’ll get a tail on him.”
    “O.K., Mark. Sorry to bother you.”
    Steve hung up the phone. “I’m sorry, Bradshaw, but you’re going about this all wrong. You can’t get information from lawyers and detectives. They have to protect their clients.”
    Bradshaw scowled. “When I find your client, he’s going to need protection.”
    Steve studied Bradshaw narrowly. “Now look here, you wouldn’t be trying to kid me, would you?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You seem to know more than you’re letting on.”
    Bradshaw laughed. “That’s a good one. I seem to know more than I’m letting on. You won’t tell me a thing. Can you give me one good reason why I should spill my guts to you?”
    “I could give you ten thousand reasons.”
    For a second there was a flicker of expression in Bradshaw’s eyes. Then he controlled himself, put his hands on the desk, and leaned into Steve’s face.
    “You know something, Winslow, you’re smart. But this time you’ve been a little too smart. Go ahead. Shadow me to your heart’s content. See if I care. All you’re gonna get for your trouble is a big fat detective bill. Now then, if your detectives have managed to get here in time, I’ll pick them up in the corridor. If not, I’ll pick them up at home. So long, wise guy.”
    With that, Bradshaw turned and stalked out of the office.

6.
    M ARK T AYLOR STUCK HIS HEAD in the door.
    “Steve, this is getting screwy.”
    “You’re telling me, Mark? Did you pick up Bradshaw?”
    Taylor waved it away. “Yeah, yeah, he’s covered. Never mind him. I just got a call from the guys tailing the girl. She left Bloomingdale’s and they’re tagging along. But get this. There’s another agency on the job.”
    “What?”
    “That’s right. There are two other guys tailing her.”
    “No shit! Any idea who it is?”
    “My man didn’t recognize them, but he got the license number. I’m running it down now.”
    The phone rang. Tracy was so fascinated with what she was hearing that it rang twice and Steve had to give her a look before she answered it. She listened, then handed the phone to Mark Taylor. “It’s for you.”
    Taylor took the phone, listened, said, “Uh huh,” and hung up. “Got it, Steve. It’s the Miltner Detective Agency.”
    “Know anything about them?”
    “I’ve heard of them. They’re a fairly reputable small agency. They mainly handle routine stuff. You know. Divorce cases, accident claims, stuff like that.”
    Steve rubbed his head. “Jesus Christ.”
    “Yeah. Look, Steve, I don’t like this at all. We were just looking to I.D. the girl and drop her. Then we run into this. It’s crazy.”
    “Yeah.”
    “And if we spotted them, it’s a cinch they spotted us. I just don’t like it.”
    “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. If she’s being tailed, she’s important. We gotta tag along and find out why.”
    Taylor sighed. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
    “So what’d you get on Bradshaw?”
    Taylor shook his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing to get. He’s got no driver’s license, Social Security number, credit cards, birth certificate, marriage license, or what have you. My man pulled the old credit rating line on Bradshaw’s landlady and drew a blank. The guy moved in two months ago. He pays his rent in advance and in cash. That’s all she knows and all she cares to know. The bank can’t give us any more information than it already has.”
    “What I.D. did he use with the bank?”
    “Cold hard cash. After he deposited it the bank made him up a nice little photo I.D. with his signature, but for our purposes it’s not worth the paper it’s printed on.”
    “And that’s it?”
    “That’s it. So the odds are, David C. Bradshaw isn’t your client’s real name.”
    “That figures.” Steve frowned. “Look, Mark. You got a fingerprint kit in your office?”
    Taylor stared at him. “We got one. We never use it, but we got it.”
    “But you know how to use it, right?”
    “Hey, give me a break. That’s TV stuff, and it never happens, but I can do it all right. Why?”
    “When Bradshaw got mad, he leaned over the desk to tell me off. I think we might have a pretty good set of latent prints.”
    Taylor shook his head. “Jesus.” He went out and came back ten minutes later with an old leather satchel.
    “Found it. I had to turn the office upside down, but I got it. Where are the prints?”
    Steve pointed. “Right here on the top of the