The Maltese Cat, the main character, takes you on an another International adventure.
“Escheatment”, Book 1 in the Maltese Cat Book Series continues with new chapters. Enjoy:
Chapters 1 & 2, 3 & 4, 5 & 6, 7 & 8, 9 & 10, Chapter 11,
Chapters 12 & 13, 14-16, 17, 18, Chapters 19 & 20,
Chapter 21, 22 & 23, 24, 25, 26, Chapters 27-29
Chapter 30, 31-32, 33-34, chapters 35 & 36,
Chapters 37-39, 40-41, chapters 42-43.
Bo Gets an Offer
Bo Dimmler had been dealing drugs since his teenage years. When the Boys decided they wanted to experiment with pot, Bo knew where to buy it. Over the years he had always come through, even when his family had no money. Bo always knew where to get more.
Now, a business colleague of his needed some advice. The other lawyer, who worked as a defense attorney for the City and County of San Francisco, had a client who was accused of trafficking drugs. The attorney had no idea that Bo both used and dealt drugs personally, but he remembered from law school that Bo was very adept at figuring out defenses for make-believe clients on school projects. He consulted Bo on this case. For Bo, it was an easy puzzler.
Listening to the evidence against the client, Bo was certain that half of it could be thrown out and the other half could be twisted against the prosecution. They had no solid evidence against the drug dealer. If it were Bo, he would be able to get the client off before it ever went to trial. Bo gave his opinion, pro bono, since he figured that saving taxpayer’s money by not going to trial would constitute a public service. Then he forgot about the case. A week later when he purchased some cocaine for a friend, the dealer told him it was on the house.
“What do you mean, on the house?” Bo asked. Bo had only been using this dealer for a short while, but everything in the transactions had always seemed clean. His dealer said that his boss would like to meet Bo. Bo was cautious but agreed to a meeting.
The dealer took Bo to a Mexican restaurant in the Mission district. In the back of the restaurant, a man introduced himself as Mauricio and asked Bo to sit down. Mauricio had heard of what Bo had done for one of his salesmen, as Mauricio called him. He said that he could use a good lawyer. Bo declined, saying that he didn’t deal in criminal law, specializing in business law instead.
“Oh, so you are a businessman, then?” queried Mauricio.
“Yes,” answered Bo.
“Then perhaps we could do some business.”
“I’m busy enough as it is, thank you.”
“But a businessman is always interested in new opportunities, is he not?”
Not wanting to argue with this man, Bo answered,
“That is true. But at the moment I have more than I can handle and I haven’t the time to look into new ventures.”
“New ventures. Yes, I like how that sounds. Perhaps one day you will be interested in new ventures, and then we can talk.”
They exchanged a bit more social chit chat briefly, and then Bo departed. Mauricio Falcón started to eat from the plate of chimichangas and beans with rice that had been brought to him. He had heard that Mr. Dimmler was the brains behind the defense of his salesman. He thought it would be a good idea to have such a lawyer on a retainer for future cases. When Bo declined, Mauricio had another idea. The word on the street was that Bo was also a consumer who occasionally scored drugs for his friends. Why not bring him into his sales force? An investigation into Bo’s life had revealed that he moved in rich circles. He would be an ideal entry portal to a new sales market. And, if things turned difficult, it would be good to have his legal expertise. He would keep his eye on Mr. Dimmler.
Outside the restaurant, as he drove away, Bo thought, “Terrific. I’m still marketable. Never need to worry about unemployment!” In his mind, dealing drugs was just another business like any other. It had its risks and rewards. Perhaps one day. Right now he and the Boys Club were doing just fine with the dead accounts at work. Life was good.
Also outside the restaurant, his dealer watched as Bo drove away. Then he reached for his cell phone and made a call. The dealer was the same man that the Maltese Cat had talked to when he, Jimmy and Tim visited the Frisco Disco.
Cat Wants Tim Out
The Cat and Jimmy had just finished an hour’s worth of playing on the tennis courts at Golden Gate Heights playground and were sitting together on a bench. The two courts were now empty. Nestled among pine trees, on a hill overlooking the Sunset District, a short walk from the courts would offer a wonderful view of over several miles all the way down to the Ocean Beach, if the famous San Francisco summer fog did not obscure the vista. For this reason, as well as because of their seclusion and unfrequented use, these courts were one of the Maltese Cat’s favorite locations in a city which had more than 100 public municipal tennis courts. Jimmy and Cat tried to play two or three times a week. They could get in a good workout within two hours and get back to work. Polo, on the other hand, entailed an all day affair.
Jimmy had enjoyed their game of tennis, as always, even though he was far overmatched. He had much to learn and still played too hectically when the important points were on the line. But the Cat had taught him an important lesson, which applied not only to his tennis but also to his polo. It was a lesson every sniper had learned.
Slow is Smooth. Smooth is Fast.
This is how the Cat could play with a seemingly effortless motion. Jimmy was determined to learn. For now, though, he changed the subject.
“How’s the investigation coming along?” asked Jimmy.
“It’s going into places I could have never foreseen.”
“Yeah. I’d like Tim to be left out of this.”
“Done,” said Jimmy. Tim McPhail was Jimmy’s brother-in-law, married to Jimmy’s younger sister, Tina. As soon as he was earning enough, Jimmy brought over his sister from Ireland. He financed her college education and eventually she married Tim. Tim was a good fellow, although a bit young and naive. He was a fast learner and a hard worker, and Jimmy had brought him into his business. He could rely on Tim. The Cat was Jimmy’s best friend and Jimmy had introduced the two with the hopes that Tim would mature and become a bit worldlier. The Maltese Cat was the most urbane man that Jimmy knew. But if there were danger here, he agreed with the Cat that Tim should be excluded.
“Still following up on that Cheating thing you were talking about?” Jimmy asked.
“You mean Escheatment? Yeah, but it goes far deeper than that.”
The Cat thought for a moment before he spoke again. “I think it better if I kept you out of this, also. I would hate for the wrong people turning up at your and Tessa’s doorstep.”
“That bad, eh?”
“Could be. Better to avoid the possibility,” answered the Cat.
“Well, Tim will be disappointed only if he can’t return to the Frisco Disco. He was impressed!”
“You tell him that the place is for the homeless. If he wants to freeload meals, he can volunteer to help out there once a week. Then he can sample the wares.”
They laughed together.
“In fact, tell him that if his friends are thinking of donating to charity, they can donate to the Disco instead of those charities somewhere around the world where some two-bit dictator grabs all the money. Here, he knows where the money is being spent.”
“Speaking of food, do you wanna grab lunch?”
The Menkee Wonton Diner on Noriega Street & 24th Ave. was a regular haunt for the two. It offered low priced, scrumptious Chinese food. Sometimes the two had only a bowl of Gai Jook, which was chicken porridge, or even just a large Won Ton Soup. Most of the other entrees were less than $6.00.
The two men packed up their gear, went through the gate, and down the stairs to their cars. The Cat knew that two of his friends were now out of the game, and he felt better for that. He had a foreboding that this caper was going to get far stickier as time went on.