He stared at me and I stared back.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Wolinsky. Pete. The PI.”
“Well, it’s no wonder you never heard from him. He’s dead.”
“Since when?”
“August 25. He was shot during a robbery attempt and died at the scene.”
“Would’ve been nice if you’d let me know.”
I squinted. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you gave him my name and he subbed out a job to me.”
“I didn’t give Pete your name.”
“Yes, you did. That was the first thing he said.”
“He said I sent you? When was this?”
“May. A week before Memorial Day. He said he ran into you downtown and asked if you knew a Nevada PI. You suggested me.”
“I haven’t talked to Pete in years. I’d never give him your name or number for any reason at all. The man’s a scumbag.”
“He said he worked with you at Byrd-Shine.”
“He did not! He never worked at Byrd-Shine. I had nothing to do with giving him your number.”
“Well, if you didn’t send him, who did?”
“How would I know?”
“I only agreed because of you. I wouldn’t have taken the job otherwise.”
“Have you been listening to anything I said? He might have claimed I referred him, but that doesn’t make it true.”
“How’d he hear about me, then?”
“Maybe another PI in town.”
“You’re the only one I know.”
I lowered my voice, feigning calm. “I have not talked to Pete since Morley Shine died and that was five years ago. I ran into him at the funeral, where he was trolling for business.” In the midst of my protest, I felt a spark of recall and held up a hand. “Uh-oh. Wait.”
Dietz said, “What.”
“I just remembered. I got a call from Con Dolan, who said someone needed a Nevada PI. He asked for your phone number and I gave it to him. This was months ago. I told him I had no idea if you were still in business, but he was free to try. It didn’t occur to me to ask what it was about. I knew you liked Con and he liked you, so it all seemed okay.”
“That’s probably it, then. My dumb luck.”
“I’m sorry. Honestly, if I’d known it was Pete, I wouldn’t have said a word.”
Henry got up and poured me another glass of wine. Dietz had already reached for the bottle of Black Jack that was sitting in the middle of the table. He topped off his glass and when Henry held out his tumbler, Dietz filled that as well. The silence was dense.
I couldn’t quite meet his eye. “How much does he owe you?”
“Three thousand dollars and change.”
Another silence accumulated while I pondered the sum. Three thousand dollars would have seemed like a lot prior to my windfall of five hundred grand. All a matter of perspective, isn’t it? “For doing what?”
“Surveillance.”
“Who’s the client?”
“Some young fellow here in town suspected his wife was having an affair with an old flame. This guy’s wife and her old boyfriend both now work at the same research firm. The two were flying to Reno for a conference and I guess hubby wanted to know if they were up to no good.”
“Were they?”
“Not that I saw. The two didn’t interact at all. She met with an old high school buddy and they put their heads together on two occasions, but there was nothing romantic going on. I sent Pete my report and an itemized expense account with all of the receipts attached. This was four full days’ work and I invoiced him accordingly.”
“You want his office address?”
“I have it already. That’s where I sent my bill. I’ll take a run over there on Monday and see what’s what. Maybe his partner can fill me in.”
“I don’t think Pete had a partner.”
“Of course he did. Able, as in Able and Wolinsky.”
“That’s probably a ruse on his part to net a favorable position in the phone book.”
“Shit,” Dietz said.
“I still have his unlisted home phone in an old address book. I don’t remember the number offhand, but I know where he lives.”
“Never mind. Not your problem,” he said.
“Of course it is. I should have asked Con what was going on and then cleared it with you before I passed your number along.”
Dietz said, “Wouldn’t have made any difference. If I’d known the request came from Con, I’d have agreed. Besides which, Pete sounded legit when I talked to him.”