The Final Detail: A Myron Bolitar Novel Read Free

took another swig of Yoo-Hoo, emptied the can.
    “Everything seemed to be going swimmingly for our old college chum,” Win said. “He was pitching well. Domestic bliss seemed to reign. He was passing his drug tests. He was making curfew with hours to spare. That all changed two weeks ago when a surprise drug test produced a positive result.”
    “For what?”
    “Heroin.”
    Myron shook his head.
    “Clu kept his mouth shut to the media,” Win said, “but privately he claimed the test was fixed. That someone had tampered with his food or some such nonsense.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Esperanza told me.”
    “He went to Esperanza?”
    “Yes, Myron. When Clu failed the test, he naturally looked to his agent for help.”
    Silence.
    “Oh,” Myron said.
    “I don’t want go into the fiasco that is MB SportsReps right now. Suffice to say that Esperanza and Big Cyndi did the best they could. But it’s your agency. Clients hired you. Many have been more than unhappy by your sudden disappearance.”
    Myron shrugged. He would probably care one day. “So Clu failed the test.”
    “And he was immediately suspended. The media moved in for the kill. He lost all his endorsement deals. Bonnie threw him out. The Yankees disowned him. With nowhere else to turn, Clu repeatedly visited your office.Esperanza told him that you were unavailable. His temper rose with each visit.”
    Myron closed his eyes.
    “Four days ago Clu confronted Esperanza outside the office. At the Kinney parking lot, to be more exact. They had words. Harsh and rather loud words. According to witnesses, Clu punched her in the mouth.”
    “What?”
    “I saw Esperanza the next day. Her jaw was swollen. She could barely talk, though she still managed to tell me to mind my own business. My understanding is more damage would have been inflicted had Mario and several other parking attendants not pulled them apart. Supposedly Esperanza made threats of the I’ll-get-you-for-this-you-limp-dick-son-of-a-bitch variety as they were being held back.”
    Myron shook his head. This made no sense.
    “The next afternoon Clu was found dead in the apartment he rented in Fort Lee,” Win continued. “The police learned about the earlier altercation. They were then issued a slew of search warrants and found the murder weapon, a nine millimeter, in your office.”
    “My office?”
    “MB’s office, yes.”
    Myron shook his head again. “It had to be a plant.”
    “Yes, perhaps. There were also fibers that matched the carpeting in Clu’s apartment.”
    “The fibers are meaningless. Clu was in the office. He probably dragged them there.”
    “Yes, perhaps,” Win said again. “But the specks of blood in the trunk of the company car might be harder to explain.”
    Myron almost fell over. “Blood in the Taurus?”
    “Yes.”
    “And the police confirmed the blood as Clu’s?”
    “Same blood type. The DNA test will take several weeks.”
    Myron could not believe what he was hearing. “Had Esperanza been using the car?”
    “That very day. According to the E-Z Pass records, the car crossed the Washington Bridge back into New York within an hour of the murder. And as I said, he was killed in Fort Lee. The apartment is maybe two miles from the bridge.”
    “This is crazy.”
    Win said nothing.
    “What’s her motive?” Myron asked.
    “The police don’t have a solid one yet. But several are being offered.”
    “Such as?”
    “Esperanza was a new partner at MB SportsReps. She’d been left in charge. The company’s inaugural client was about to walk out the door.”
    Myron frowned. “Pretty flimsy motive.”
    “He had also recently assaulted her. Perhaps Clu blamed her for all the bad things that were happening to him. Perhaps she wanted vengeance. Who knows?”
    “You said something before about her not talking to you.”
    “Yes.”
    “So you asked Esperanza about the charges?”
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    “And she told me that she had the matter