Free The Dirt Peddler by Dorien Grey Page B

them?
    “Senior, please.” I hoped I sounded as though I had known all along.
    “May I tell him who’s calling?”
    “My name is Hardesty. Dick Hardesty.”
    “And may I ask what company you are with?”
    “Hardesty Investigations.”
    “One moment, Mr. Hardesty.” There was a click and then the sounds of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons.”
    Well, the place has class, I decided.
    A moment later, another click and a male voice, “Donald Bernadine.”
    I introduced myself as a private investigator and explained that I would like to speak with him about one of his authors, Tony T. Tunderew. I didn’t mention I was working for Tunderew. I could do that later.
    “I do not discuss our professional associations,” he said, politely but firmly.
    “I understand. But this is a matter of some importance which might affect Bernadine Press, and I would really appreciate it if we could talk in person for a few minutes.”
    After a moment of silence, he said, “Tomorrow at ten thirty? I have a meeting at eleven, so it will have to be brief.”
    “Ten thirty will be fine, Mr. Bernadine. Thank you. I’ll see you then.”
    *
    At home, right after dinner, while Jonathan sat cross-legged on the floor studying, I called Larry Fletcher. I hoped he was in, since I really wanted to talk to him before I went to see Donald Bernadine.
    Luck was with me.
    “Hello?”
    “Mr. Fletcher, it’s Dick Hardesty. I had another question I wonder if you could answer for me?”
    “Will it help Tony find out who is blackmailing him?”
    “I hope so. I understand you were nice enough to run some errands for Mr. Tunderew during your lunch hours.”
    “Oh, yes. I was glad to do it. I don’t eat lunch very often anyway. And Tony was always so busy…”
    Uh huh, I thought.
    “Did he by any chance ever have you go by Bernadine Press for him?”
    There was no hesitation. “Yes, a couple of times Tony asked me to take things over to them. Mr. Bernadine is a very nice man, very friendly.”
    I found it a little odd that Tunderew would be so brazen as to keep anything having to do with Dirty Little Minds at work.
    “So he would just hand you a package and ask you to deliver it to Bernadine Press?”
    “Oh, no, not during working hours. Tony is very conscientious about not taking up company time for his personal affairs.”
    Right. Why should he when he can sucker some naive kid into doing it for him?
    Unaware of my thoughts, Fletcher kept on talking. “Whenever he’d have something he’d like me to take over to them, he’d ask me to meet him in the parking lot before work. I’d put it in the trunk of my car, and then deliver it during my lunch hour.”
    Sigh.
    “Did you by any chance mention to Mr. Bernadine that Tony had helped you get your new apartment?”
    “I don’t think I…wait, yes I did. I stopped by to drop off an envelope on my way to the apartment management company with the check. I was so touched by Tony’s kindness I’m sure I told Mr. Bernadine about it. Tony’d made me promise not to tell anyone at work, but I had to tell someone! Why do you ask?”
    “I was just curious,” I said, only half truthfully. “And I was wondering, were there any rumors around work about Tony and any of the women he worked with?”
    I sensed the question bothered him a bit. “There are always rumors. Tony’s a very, very handsome man. Every girl in the office had a crush on him, I think.”
    And at least one of the guys, I mentally added.
    “Any one in particular?”
    “Well, maybe Judith. She was a temp and worked for Tony on a project he was doing. She was only there a month or so, but she really liked Tony. He was just being nice, as he is with everyone, but I think she thought he liked her…well, you know.”
    I knew.
    “Do you know Judith’s last name, or the temp agency she worked for?”
    He paused. “Her last name was Francini. I remember that because our next-door neighbors when I was growing up were Francinis. I asked her if