The Darkness - Jason Pinter [17]
something that was squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste."
"You know, sometimes I feel I'd be better off not
knowing about all your previous stories."
"Thought it might be pertinent," Jack sniffed.
"Come on, the building where 718 operates out of is
over there."
We entered the building, and I wasn't shocked to find
a different security guard on duty than I remember. He was
an older man, mid-sixties, with a tuft of gray hair parked
on the top of his head like a wind ornament. He had on
thick reading glasses and was reading a newspaper. We approached, and I said, "We're here for 718 Enterprises."
The man looked up. I could see a crossword puzzle on
the table in front of him. Only three of the words had been
filled in. And let's just say he wasn't aware the word
nuclear had an a.
"Sorry, come again?"
"718 Enterprises," Jack said. "Can you ring them up?"
"Just a second." He pushed the newspaper away and
brought out a large binder. Opening it, he began to flip
through pages, studying the telephone numbers with his
index finger. I watched as he scanned, unable to see the
numbers for myself.
"I'm sorry, there's no company here by that name.
718 Enterprises, you said?"
"That's right. They definitely work here," I added.
"I've been here before," I lied.
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Jason Pinter
The guard curled his lip up, flipped through the binder
again. He looked confused, frustrated. "Sorry, nothing
here by that name."
"Hold on a second," I said. I took the logbook from
the counter, began to look at all the people who'd signed
in. Last time I was here, Scott Callahan and Kyle Evans
had signed in when they visited 718 Enterprises. But to
my surprise, nobody was here to visit the company. Not
a single name I recognized.
"Sir, please give that back," he said, his voice growing
impatient. "If you don't I'll have security down here right
quick." Figured they'd have security. Old Man River here
didn't look like he was hired to do much strong-arming.
"What's your name, friend?" Jack said.
"Edgar," the guard replied.
"Edgar, I'm Jack. My friend Henry here is a little impatient, for that I apologize. We were under the impression this company was located at this address.... How
long have you been working here?"
"It's my fourth day," Edgar replied.
"Really," Jack said. His voice was modulated to feign
interest, but I could tell that bothered him. "Who else
works this shift?"
"Nobody anymore. Building manager called the agency
that was looking to place me, said they needed a new
morning man five days a week, Monday through Friday.
They didn't tell me about the last guy, but this is a full-time
job. Thank God, because in this economy heaven knows
my savings and 401k aren't worth squat anymore."
"Thanks, Edgar," Jack said. "Come on, Henry." He
didn't say my name like we were partners, but like I was
his subordinate.
As we left the building, I said to Jack, "Next time
The Darkness
53
you're going to do the good cop, bad cop shtick, how
about letting me know ahead of time that I'm going to be
the bad cop?"
Jack shook his head. "This is about the story, Henry.
Not your pride or your feelings. If I need you to be my
patsy to get someone to open up, that's just what I'll do.
And I'd expect you to do the same with me if the situation called for it. In fact, if you didn't, I'd wonder why I
was letting you tag along in the first place."
"Tag along? This is my sto..." I stopped talking. This
wouldn't get us anywhere. "I can tell what you're thinking."
Jack nodded. "Whoever did work here packed up and
left faster than my second wife left with my collection of
antique pens."
"You think it's because of Tsang?" I asked.
"No way. At least not entirely. Tsang was killed
yesterday. Edgar started a few days ago. If Tsang was
connected to 718 Enterprises--and ipso facto your
brother--they were long gone before they crushed his
bones into oatmeal."
I don't know what we should have expected to find,
but I guarantee it wasn't nothing. Not the nothing as in
"well, we got there but didn't