Free Once a Mutt (Trace 5) by Warren Murphy

“Better yet, it’s fucking water damage, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” Ed said.
    “Then buy a bunch of mops, hire a bunch of college kids. Don’t pay them more than three bucks an hour. Have them mop up the water. Buy two sunlamps to dry the place out. It shouldn’t cost but two hundred dollars and I’ll have my forty bucks in the mail to you tomorrow.”
    “Very funny,” Ed said.
    “Did you hear anybody chuckling on this end?” Trace said. “What the hell can a storm damage? The building didn’t fall down, did it?”
    “No.”
    “Good. Then mop and dry it.”
    “You can’t mop and dry a ruined electrical system. A burned-out boiler. An air-conditioner that’s got to be rebuilt. A monitoring system for the bar that’s got water in the lines. Your share’s fourteen thousand dollars.”
    “What the hell kind of investment is this?” Trace demanded. “You said this was going to be something for my old age. A steady regular income that would last me the rest of my life, and now the freaking place isn’t even open yet and it’s already driving me to the poorhouse.”
    “Sorry, Trace, but we’ve got to get these repairs done to get our certificate of occupancy. You can’t open a restaurant without one. As soon as we’re open, the money’ll come pouring in.”
    “You’re a pain in my ass,” Trace said. “I want out. You want to buy me out?”
    “I don’t have the money right now,” Ed said.
    “How about one of the other partners? Hell, they’re all going to get rich, right? Tell them buy me out and they’ll get twice as rich.”
    “No interest there.”
    “How do you know that?” Trace asked suspiciously. “How do you know nobody wants to buy me out when I just asked you this very minute?”
    “I have a sense of what the other partners think.”
    “How’d you get such a well-developed sense of what other people think?” Trace said.
    “Actually, I’ve checked with the other partners. Just in case.”
    “You son of a bitch, you’re trying to sell out your own shares, aren’t you?” Trace shouted into the telephone.
    “Calm down. Aren’t we friends?”
    “I thought we were until this, you goddamn pirate,” Trace said.
    “I was just trying to gauge what our other partners were thinking,” Ed said.
    “Gauge this,” Trace said. “You’re not getting any fourteen thousand from me. Not a penny more than ten thousand.”
    “When can I have it?”
    “Hold it. My share’s fourteen, but I offer you ten and you’re willing to take it? What the hell kind of estimate was it you got for repairs anyway? You’re a thief.”
    “If I get ten from you, I can pay the repair people a partial payment. Maybe I can hold them off for the rest until the place opens,” Ed said.
    “Maybe they’ll take the fee in free dinners and do the job for no cash,” Trace said.
    “I’m hurt, Trace,” the other man said. “I bet you think that this is easy for me.”
    “Easy or hard, I don’t care. But I never thought it was real hard to waste other people’s money. Christ, the Third World does it all the time.”
    “I need at least ten thousand dollars’ good-faith money from you. When can I have it?”
    “What happens if you don’t get it?” Trace asked.
    “We renege on our notes. We never open. The bank forecloses. They sell the place at auction.”
    “Cut the crap. What really happens?”
    “You get back maybe a dime on a dollar on the money you already put in. When can I have the ten-thousand-dollar down payment?”
    “I’m working on it,” Trace said.
    “Work real fast. I need it right away. I’d hate to see you go down on this deal. Particularly when just a few more dollars and it’s all broad sunlit highways for the rest of our lives.”
    “Yeah, rolling right to the poorhouse gates,” Trace growled as he slammed down the telephone.
    Trace lit another cigarette even though he had one burning in the ashtray. The maid had removed his butt can and he went into the bathroom,