Copp On Fire, A Joe Copp Thriller (Joe Copp, Private Eye Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Bernie."
           "I've never seen you before in my life," she said in a tone usually reserved for a statement of the obvious.
           I chewed that for a moment. "So why are you seeing me now?"
           "I'm trying to find Bernie."
           "If you've never seen me before in your life, how'd you know to start looking here—and how do you even know who I am?"
    She tossed that golden head and gave me a sidewise flash from the eyes. "I've known about you from the beginning," she told me. "I helped Bernie select you. Now I want you to help me find him. I'll retain you. Name your price. I can afford it."
    I ran a hand along the leathered interior of the Jag and replied, "I'm sure you can. But there's no need. I don't know your game, Melissa, but I know that you know that Bernie is dead. You were within sight of it when his car blew up last night. So why would you be trying to find him here? The county morgue is—"
    "Stop that. The man in that car was not Bernie Wiseman. You know that as well as I do."
    "I know nothing," I replied quietly, patiently. If it wasn't Bernie, then who?"
    She was teary. "Don't try to tell me that you weren't in on this, I know all about it—"
    "Exactly what do you think you know?"
    "I know that Bernie was coming to see you. He was setting something up, I know that. And I was supposed to meet him in Hollywood last night, afterward. I know that. But the man in the car wasn't Bernie. So where is he?"
    I took my time lighting a cigarette, then blew the smoke outside. "This is getting ridiculous, kid."
    She agreed, but with a lot less patience than I was showing. "It sure is!"
    "Let's start it again. You and Wiseman came here two days ago in a rented limo and under false colors. He posed as a man named Albert Moore and hired me to sit outside NuCal Designs and photograph the comings and goings all day yesterday. I delivered the film to his chauffeur at a few minutes past six. At about seven o'clock NuCal blew and took most of the neighborhood with it. An hour later the rented limo blew and took Wiseman and his chauffeur with it. But it didn't take you with it, because you beat it away from there moments before the blow. A traffic cop saw you transfer to this car and he made a note of your license tags. The homicide people are interested in your close escape, they want to talk to you about that. It would look better if you found them instead of vice versa."
    It was late afternoon. I wanted to get inside and check my machine for calls while there was still some business time left in the day. It wasn't that I was indifferent to this lady's problem; I just did not see that I could add anything worthwhile to her game on her terms. So I left her sitting there in her emotional stew and I went on into my office.
    She followed quickly and joined me inside before I could get through the reception area.
    "They want to kill me too!" she announced breathlessly. You've got to help me!"
    I gave her a cold stare as I replied, "I don't have to do a damned thing, kid. But I've been known to do quite a lot when I'm properly asked."
    "I'm asking you," she said miserably.
    "Didn't hear it," I said. "What did you ask?"
    "Will you help me?" she muttered.
    I opened the inner office and invited her inside. I didn't know if I could help her or not. The lady certainly had my attention, though and I was willing to try. But then something rushed out of the office behind me and exploded against my head with a flash of pain and nausea. I grasped the significance of that feeling but I could not follow it intellectually; it felt like death, like dying and spinning into a bottomless chasm and being too sick to care. I must have gone out like a light because I do not even remember hitting the floor.
    I came out of it with Ken Forta and two uniformed deputies bending over me. I felt very sick and very weak, and my head was like ten Margarita hangovers. Someone growled, "Look out, he's going to puke," and someone helped