A Gambling Man David Baldacci (reading eggs books .TXT) 📖

essential to the task.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket, hocked into it, and set it down next to him.

“The developments can come later, and maybe not the ones you’re thinking of. Now, Irving Shaw wrote very highly of you.”

“He’s a good man. Learned a lot from him.”

“And you no doubt want to continue your education under me.”

“I hoped my letter to you made that clear.”

“You’re coming in from this Poca City place? Irv told me that in his letter.”

“Yes. I stopped over in Reno for a little bit and then headed west.”

Dash hocked once more into the cloth and sat back, lifting his feet fully off the floor. “You got a ticket?”

“Come again?”

“A PI’s license.”

“Nope. Do I need one?”

“State of California says you do. Law enacted back in 1915.”

“What do I have to do to get it?”

“You have to apply to the State Board of Prison Directors.”

Archer felt like someone had just shivved him in the carotid. “Prison Directors!”

“Yes. You have to provide background on yourself, where you were last employed, and where in the state you intend to work as a PI. And you have to provide facts that you’re of good moral character. You have to sign that application, and then you have to find five reputable people in Bay Town who will approve of the application and also sign it before an officer duly authorized to take acknowledgment of deeds.”

“I don’t even know five people in town.”

“And the State Board will review the application and may do its own investigation to confirm that you are indeed a person of good moral character and integrity. If they do, they will issue a license good for five years, and the fee is ten dollars a year.”

Archer stared at him. “And if they find out I’ve been in prison, will that knock out any chance of me getting my license?”

“It might. But there’s another way.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a provision in the law that allows you to act under the auspices of the license I have for this firm.”

“So I don’t even have to apply?”

“But you might want to anyway, sometime down the road, Archer. I won’t be around forever, and the license I have is not transferable to you. And I have to tell you that there’s talk of changing the law, making it even more restrictive next year. It might well require several years of apprenticing as a PI, and also require that the applicant not have been convicted of any serious crime.”

Archer nodded. “Okay.”

“So you might want to find five people and get yourself grandfathered in, if you can. Me and Connie can be two of them, so you’re nearly halfway home on that score. In the meantime, I can provide a ticket for you that allows you to operate under the license of this firm. I’ll have Connie get going on that.”

“Didn’t know it was so involved.”

“It’s a profession, Archer. And it’s getting all the riffraff out and making way for us professionals. I went to the CAPI conference last year and it was quite informative.”

“The what?”

“California Association of Private Investigators. Had a woman named Mildred Gilmore speak. She’s a licensed PI and an attorney, and good at both jobs. She argued for adopting a code of ethics for PIs. She also said that women make better operators because they’re more ethical and no one would suspect them of being PIs.”

“What do you think?”

“I’ve got my own ethics, and I don’t want other folks telling me what they should be.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“What’s your first name again?”

“Aloysius.”

“Then I’ll just call you Archer.”

“I, uh, I saw the billboards around town. Miss Morrison told me they were from a while ago.”

Dash cocked his head and the mouth flatlined. “Don’t play me for a fool, son. You put up billboards to get business, least I did when I first got here. The fact is I soon had more than enough business, so no need for more billboards. Plus, I sort of like driving around and seeing what I used to look like.”

“But you need business now, sounds like.”

“Things have slowed, I won’t debate that point with you.”

“So you were with the FBI?”

Dash poured out small measures of Beam in both glasses and nudged one toward Archer.

“How is Earl? In fine form? Man loves to talk.”

“He thinks the world of you.”

“I did him one act of kindness and he did the rest.”

“Nice of you after sending him to San Quentin.”

Dash said sharply, “He sent himself to San Quentin. That liquor store didn’t rob itself.”

“Right. I guess not.”

“And it was the Bureau of Investigation when I was there. Didn’t become the FBI until 1935.”

“He said you worked with Eliot Ness. Is that true?”

“It is. But Ness worked with a lot of guys. I was just one of them.”

“Didn’t he take down Ma Barker, Dillinger and Machine Gun Kelly, and folks like that? Were you in on that, too?”

“Ancient history, Archer.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I had my reasons.”

“So then you went to Frisco to be a cop?”

“A detective,” corrected Dash. “I grew up on the West Coast and wanted to get back here.”

“So why the shamus route?”

“I don’t like following orders, particularly if they’re lousy ones. And I like being my own boss. But enough about me, Archer, how’d you find the joint?”

“It wasn’t so different from being in the Army, actually. And I was innocent, if that makes a difference to you.”

Dash sipped his Beam, and slowly shook his head. “Were you tried and convicted?”

“No, I did a deal. Otherwise, they were going to throw the book at me.”

“Then you were guilty?”

“You think all men who do a deal are guilty?”

“Of course I don’t. Just as I know that all men who are tried and convicted aren’t guilty. But it’s the only system we have. Fact is, I’m not concerned with the past, Archer, yours or mine. I look toward the future.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“With a possibility, nothing more and nothing less.” He bent over and worried at the hole in his sock, tucking