Free Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery by Harry James Krebs Page A

Saturday, April 20, nine days from now. I reluctantly accepted the invitation.
    Frankly, I had no interest in playing golf, but I had agreed halfheartedly to give it a chance when I met with him last November. It had been at our second meeting, and I had hoped he’d forgotten. No such luck.
    I thought back on that strange conversation. Marcus had requested that I stop by his office for the second time, but this time it was just the two of us.
    When I’d been shown in, he’d stood and greeted me. “Ben, thank you for taking the time to meet with me. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.” He’d gestured toward a burgundy leather tufted chair in front of his desk.
    “I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot a few weeks ago, and I can only imagine what you must think of me.”
    “Frankly,” I’d said, looking him in the eye, “I think you’re a pompous ass.”
    Marcus had smiled. “Maybe so,” he’d said. “Maybe so. But I’m the kind of person who will admit to making a mistake, and I made a mistake about you. It’s been a long time since I’ve met an honest man, and I didn’t recognize it when one was standing in front of me. Please accept my sincere apology.”
    Marcus had stood and extended his hand. After we’d shook hands, he walked over to an antique Chinese black lacquered armoire in the corner. He came back with two glasses and a bottle of scotch.
    “You look like a scotch man to me, Ben. Am I right?”
    “Absolutely. You’re growing on me, Marcus.”
    He poured three fingers worth in each glass and handed one to me. He raised his glass. “To a long and prosperous partnership … and to Margaret.”
    We toasted.
    “I hope you realize I was just attempting to look out for Margaret,” he said.
    “I know that.”
    “The truth is, Ben, you and I are going to have to work together a lot. The whole Marshak enterprise is a very complex financial situation, and there are constant legal issues that arise. You may not be aware of it now, but you’ll soon find out, and some of them will involve you.
    “There is extreme wealth and power here. And where there’s wealth and power, there are enemies that want to take it away.”
    “What do you want me to do?” I asked.
    “Just keep your guard up because you’ll be a part of this enterprise soon, and the leeches will come out and want to suck on the Marshak teat.”
    “I’ve already seen it,” I said. “With my ex-wife, Jennifer. She’s got it in her head that I’ll be able to fork over a few hundred grand when I marry Maggie.”
    “Exactly. Luckily, she has no legal claim.” Marcus paused and read my face. “You look like you have something on your mind.”
    “I do. I’d prefer it if Maggie and I had a prenuptial agreement. I really want nothing she’s got, and I’d feel better if it was in writing.”
    Marcus shook his head and smiled. “I suggested that to Margaret last month and got nowhere. She wants you to be an equal partner. And I must say, having learned what kind of a man you are, I now agree.”
    He finished off his scotch. “Which brings me to the real reason I asked you down to see me: as an equal partner there are certain perks that come with the territory.” He opened a desk drawer, pulled out an envelope, and dumped the contents on his desk.
    “Here is your membership card to the Highlands Country Club. You won’t need it after they know who you are. They have a championship golf course designed by Jack Nicklaus, and all the usual elite country club trappings. It’s the most exclusive club in the Triangle, and I think you’ll really enjoy it.” He grinned and added, “Your future mother-in-law is there all the time.”
    I reluctantly took the card. “Thanks, but the last thing I wanna do is rub elbows with a bunch of stuck-up golfin’ assholes.” I no sooner got the words out of my mouth than I noticed the four golf trophies on the bookcase behind him. “Sorry. Sometimes I suffer from foot-in-mouth