Double Eagle A Cliff Knowles Mystery By Russell Atkinson Chapter 1 I think it was the Double Eagle case that really brought home to me how smart Cliff was. I put in more hours than he did now, quite a bit more, but he was still the lead partner, the rainmaker, the one with his name on the door. And for good reason. I’d always admired Cliff for a number of reasons, but that morning he amazed me. I should introduce myself. I’m Maeva Hanssen, Cliff’s partner, the very junior partner, in the Knowles Detective Agency. I began as his secretary after I dropped out of Stanford Law School and learned the business from the ground up, but three years ago he made me partner. The firm is small, although we have grown some in those three years. Cliff’s niece Ashley is helping out answering phones and doing some billing work, at least until she goes back to high school in the fall. We also have a part-time employee, Woody Braswell, who helps with some of the street work when needed. That’s it. I was at my desk when the call came in. Ashley took it. I overheard her end of the conversation and could tell she was a bit flummoxed so I walked over to her desk and pressed the speakerphone button so I could listen. The caller identified himself as Charles Johnson and said he would like to make an appointment with Mr. Knowles. Ashley didn’t recognize the name and he didn’t provide a company name so she asked him what he wanted to see Cliff for. He said he didn’t want to give particulars over the phone but it was a personal matter. Sometimes we get people who want someone to follow a lover or collect a personal debt. Ashley told him that we don’t do that kind of work. Almost all our work now is for law firms or corporations, although she didn’t tell him that. He assured her that it was nothing like that. He said it was something quite strange and puzzling. He’d heard that Cliff was a modern-age Sherlock Holmes and that was what he needed. He added that he was prepared to pay quite handsomely. She made a tentative appointment for a week later, when Johnson said he’d be in the Bay Area, but she emphasized that she’d have to confirm it with Mr. Holmes, so he shouldn’t make any irrevocable plans until he got a call back. I gave her a thumbs up. She got his number and hung up. 2 “Quite handsomely? He actually said that?” Cliff asked when he came in later that morning. “He did. And he called you a modern-day Sherlock Holmes.” She giggled as though that prospect was unimaginably ridiculous. Cliff snorted at her in mock indignation at her lack of respect. I could tell he was intrigued. Most of his time these days was spent dealing with the major clients hassling over billing rates, response time on the new hire background investigations, and the like. It was boring and not much fun, but it paid the bills. Who doesn’t like a good mystery? I was hoping he’d take the case, but he only told Ashley to give him the number and to write down everything she could remember about the call, even the man’s accent, tone of voice, background noises, and anything else. I told him I’d listened in and would send him my impressions, too. When we’d done that, there wasn’t much to go on. Older-sounding male, probably white, well-educated, American. Nothing in the background. Cliff went to his computer and I was sure he was looking up the number, or trying to, but I’d already done that. It didn’t come up in Google or our subscription databases, which meant it was probably a prepaid phone – a “burner” phone as they say on TV. Area code 209, which covered a lot of the Central Valley of California. Cliff spent a half hour online and then told Ashley to call him back and confirm the appointment. “Did you identify him?” I asked, my enthusiasm unhidden. “No. Too many Charles Johnsons.” “Me neither.” That was it for the next week. We’d fallen into our normal routines, but I’d marked the date on my calendar so that I’d be sure to be around when he arrived. I’d asked if he wanted me to sit in on the interview, but he told me no, but to stick around “just in case.” It wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear. Cliff was in early and busy in his office when the door opened and Johnson walked in. He was average height, a bit portly, and in his seventies or possibly eighties. He wore slacks, leather shoes, and a short-sleeve polyester dress shirt with no tie or jacket. He introduced himself to Ashley noting that he had an appointment. She rose and walked to his office door and said, “Cliff, your appointment is here.” Cliff scowled at her as she was supposed to refer to him as Mr. Knowles in front of clients, a mistake I suspected she made on purpose. At 3 least she hadn’t called him Uncle Cliff as she sometimes did. The whole thing was something of a charade since Cliff could see everything in the main office through the window in his office. We’ve expanded some since the lawyers next door moved out, but it’s still a small office. Cliff stood and walked to his office entrance. “Mr. Johnson, please come in.” Johnson walked slowly to the plush chair kept for clients. Cliff took his own spot behind his desk rather than the other client chair. I walked up to the open door and gave Cliff a hopeful look. He waved me to come in. I broke into a Cheshire Cat grin, but toned it down to a Flipper the Dolphin smile by the time I sat next to Johnson. “This is my partner, Maeva Hanssen.” “Pleased to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” “My pleasure, Mr. Johnson. How can I be of service?” I got a better look at Johnson now that I was three feet away. He had a thick shock of graying hair over the ears and neck, but it was thinning on top where some nasty-looking sun spots spread and merged like a Rorschach test. The back of his hands suffered from the same condition. He kept reading glasses in his shirt pocket, but didn’t wear any now unless he had contacts in. I couldn’t tell. Despite his deep tan, he had a fair complexion and light blue eyes. He’d probably been blond as a boy, but the hairs that weren’t white were now a dull muddy gray that a charitable person might call salt-and- pepper. He wore no wedding ring or other jewelry. “Mr. Knowles, I’ve heard good things about you. I asked someone I trust to recommend a top notch detective and he gave me your name. He said you were a modern-day Sherlock Holmes.” “That’s what my secretary said. I’m flattered, of course, but really that’s an exaggeration, I’m sure.” “Oh, I’m not given to blandishments, Mr. Knowles. Those were his words.” “And to whom to I owe that compliment? You’re not from around here and I don’t know anyone in Sutter Creek.” I don’t know whose jaw dropped farther, mine or Johnson’s. “My lord. How did you know that? I never told your secretary where I lived. You really are Sherlock Holmes.” “Pfft. Don’t be silly, Mr. McNabb. If I were Holmes I would tell you all about yourself, but all I know is that you’re from Sutter Creek, you own a 4 vineyard, you were classically educated, you recently bought a Pixel 3 smart phone, your first smart phone, and you like ragtime music. I really have no idea why you’re here.” Cliff kept a straight face, but I couldn’t. I clapped a hand over my mouth to prevent some unprofessional verbiage from leaking out. Johnson, or McNabb I guess it is now, put his hand to his chest and gaped speechlessly. For a moment I thought he was going to yell “This is the big one, Elizabeth!” like Redd Foxx on Sanford and Son. I’m too young to ever have seen that when it was live, but my dad loved that show and used to imitate him whenever my mom wouldn’t go along with one of his more outrageous plans. I saw a few reruns when I was little. Instead, McNabb burst into uproarious laughter. “I see I got good advice about coming to you. You must tell me how you did that. This is a brand-new phone with a new number that I’ve never given to anyone or used with any sort of account, online or otherwise. I use only my home phone for those.” “Quite simple, really. The white stripe on your left wrist shows where you used to wear a wrist watch while the rest of your tanned skin shows evidence of a life in the sun. We were once the target of a serial killer so I had a security camera mounted in our hallway. I watched from my desk as you approached our door.