Wolf in the Shadows - Marcia Muller [17]
When I got home, it was still too early to call anyone to confirm what I’d remembered about Renshaw and Kessell, so I toasted the bagel and had it with the first of my customary three cups of coffee. I supposed I should eliminate caffeine if I planned to lead a virtuous life from now on, but I knew I wasn’t going to give it up—just as I suspected that my good intentions would soon go the way of most New Year’s resolutions. That was okay, though; my vices are so few—caffeine, white wine, chocolate, and an addiction to late-night grade-B movies—that relinquishing any would practically turn me into a saint.
There was nothing much of interest in the paper; it even felt thin. The comics weren’t funny, the crossword and the Jumble were all too easy; in desperation I even read the business section, but the lead article on the unexpected withdrawal of an initial public offering of Phoenix Labs stock failed to stir me. Finally it was nine o’clock, time to make my call.
I dialed the number of one of the city’s larger security firms and asked to speak to Bob Stern, my former boss. Bob, who has changed companies about once every nine months since I worked for him, saved me from a hideous life by firing me several years ago, and has spent most of the intervening time trying to hire me back for whatever outfit he’s hooked up with at the moment. I have a certain reputation in investigative circles here in the city, and while the consensus is that I’d be impossible to work with, a number of people would like to give it a whirl.
“So what is it, Sharon?” Bob asked. “You ready to come back to me?”
“No way.”
“You’re not going to lure another of my promising new operatives away, are you?” Rae had worked briefly for Bob at one of his former gigs, before he sensed she’d be fully as difficult as I and recommended her for the job at All Souls.
“Not today.” But as I spoke I reminded myself that soon I might have to call on Bob for referrals, should I say yes to All Souls’s offer. Quickly I put the troublesome thought out of my mind and said, “I’m after information. What can you tell me about Renshaw and Kessell International?”
“RKI? Shit, Sharon, don’t tell me you’re thinking of hiring on with that bunch!”
“Why is it you always suspect me of looking to change jobs? I’ve been with All Souls ever since you tossed me out on the streets.”
“Those bleeding hearts aren’t good enough for you. Come back to me. I promise—”
“RKI, Bob.”
“Right. You know Ackerman and Palumbo? Paul Chamberlain? The big guys in the international security consulting field?”
So I’d remembered correctly. “Yes.”
“Well, RKI’s right up there with them, but that’s where the resemblance stops. A and P are mainly former spooks. At PC you got the guys with law or accounting degrees and nice suits. RKI uses both, but it’s the other types that make them flashy—and dangerous.”
“Other types.”
“Yeah, people whose past you really don’t want to know too much about. People who don’t play by anybody’s rules. They’re what makes RKI so effective in certain kinds of situations. Firms that’re desperate or very vulnerable use them. Insurance companies—well, they’re leery.”
It sounded like a place where Hy would feel right at home. “So who’re the principals there? What’re their backgrounds?”
“Strictly off-the-wall. Take Gage Renshaw. DEA, years back. Was tapped for a very select and low-profile task force called Centac in the mid-seventies. Then in eighty-five Centac was disbanded. Renshaw was in Thailand; he disappeared. Three years later he resurfaced, came back to the States, apparently affluent. Set up the RKI shop in La Jolla in partnership with his old pal Dan Kessell.”
“So La Jolla is where they’re headquartered?”
“With offices in major U.S. and foreign cities.