Blood Money (chapters eleven and twelve.) (standard:Suspense, 3812 words) [6/18] show all parts
Author: Hulsey	Added: Sep 21 2011	Views/Reads: 2310/1882	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Continued.

11 

At the same time that O'Hara was holding court at his Hyde Park mansion,
Pauline Chaplin was parking her Fiat outside the flat of her brother, 
Dean in Camden Town. Schofield greeted her on his doorstep and kissed 
her on the cheek. 

“Your tax is out of date,” she moaned, regarding the battered Ford
Capri. 

“So, my sister actually remembers where I live.” 

“Hell, this place is a tip. When is the last time you dusted?” she
groaned, running her fingers along his windowsill.” 

“Coffee, tea or maybe a fancy cappuccino, eh?” mocked Schofield. “Shit,
you are such a snob, sis.” 

She removed the newspapers from his gaudy red sofa before sitting down.
“Coffee will be fine and with real milk... What you need is a wife... A 
wife and a new career. A private detective indeed. When will you ever 
grow up?” 

“Are you finished? I like my job and it pays well. Okay, so I lied about
the last bit. So why are you here?” 

Pauline fidgeted nervously. “It's about Sam.” 

“Sam?” 

“I'm worried about him, Dean... I discovered recently that he was in a
great deal of debt and then...” 

“Sam in debt?” Schofield tried to look concerned. 

“If you‘ll just let me finish,” said Pauline, who was in the process of
lighting up a cigarette. “The other evening, he took me out for a meal 
at China Tang's and then on to see a show. He was spending money like 
he'd won the lottery. It just doesn't make sense, Dean.” 

Schofield mulled over what his sister was telling him. He passed over an
ashtray before retreating into the kitchen. “When did he take you for 
this meal, Pauline?” he shouted. 

“Last Wednesday... He was saying such strange things to me.” 

Schofield returned with two mugs of coffee. “Such as?” 

“He promised me that we would be rich very soon... Of course, I asked
him to explain himself, but he told me he couldn't.” 

The private investigator coughed, wafted away the smoke and opened a
window. “When did you start smoking again, sis?” 

“Last Thursday... I read in the newspapers about this deal O'Hara
offered to those three poor souls, and only then did I find out that 
Sam was responsible for the transactions. He told me he was to be well 
rewarded by his appointment.” 

“That makes sense. O'Hara is a wealthy man.” 

“But the way Sam was talking, you'd think that he was also to be offered
a vast amount of money. No, it doesn't make sense.” 

Schofield blew on his hot coffee, his foot kicking the almost empty Jack
Daniels bottle behind his chair. “Maybe Sam was exaggerating a little. 
Like I said, O'Hara is...” 

“No! Sam would be paid as normal through his employers, Hector and
Bullard. Christ, he even offered to buy me a yacht... I think he's in 
trouble, Dean. I've never seen Sam so animated before.” 

Schofield placed his mug of coffee on his stained table and grasped the
cold hands of his sister. “What if O'Hara was paying Sam a gratis bonus 
for his services? Wouldn't that make sense?” 


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