Disenchantment 16

After getting off the phone with someone he had questioned in another case that seemed to actually be somehow related to a current case, Blake Leonard Malbourne received a call from his secretary. “Yes, Linda?” he asked.

 

“Mister Malbourne, there’s a call for you on line two.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

“A client, Oren Phileus. The computer shows him to be a current client.”

 

“Yes, yes. He helps pay for your salary and our fancy office. Put him through.”

 

“Yes sir,” replied Linda Sanchez. Blake had hired her because of her beauty, not because he found it necessarily appealing, but because he knew others did. Not much of a looker himself, he liked to surround himself with pleasing aesthetics, to give off an impression of success: trophy office, trophy secretary, trophy life. He had also liked the meek personality of Linda Sanchez, and used it to make himself feel important at times. Blake was pretty certain that he was the most successful private dick in history, and he wanted everyone to know it.

 

“Money, money, money,” he said before he cleared his throat and hit line two. “Oren, how’s it going, my friend?”

 

“I think you can guess. I miss her so much. I’m quite worried, man. I... I don’t know...shit, you know how it is, right?”

 

“Of course.” Blake had no idea how it is. However, he did know that Oren Phileus barely looked at his bills, didn’t seem to care about the price he paid, and always kept a large sum of money on retainer, ever since he had hired him for a past case. “So, I found you an astronomer, but I have to say, she said it’s simple stuff. You can look it up on the Internet, do all this stuff yourself.”

 

“No, I want context. I want a plan, with everyone in the room together.”

 

“I see.” If Blake thought that he was going to answer any differently, he never would have mentioned it, but the lady had said that she didn’t really know why she was hired, and would talk to him over the phone for free. That wouldn’t do. Blake liked to pad his bill as much as possible. He considered his job more manipulating his clients, than actually investigating anything for them.

 

“I should mention that she also said that weekdays were bad for her, and that if we can’t do it on a weekend, she would have to charge more money for a weeknight, as she was missing work and all.” She had said no such thing, but he knew Oren would never ask her.

 

“Look Blake, I have missed a lot of gigs, and the highest paying ones are on Fridays and Saturdays, so I need to at least start going back to work on weekends for now. We can use our sub, Paul, for all weekday gigs still, but some of the venues are starting to complain that I’m not around, and I need to be there for the bigger ones. I’m starting to run out of money too, so the work will help.”

 

Blake certainly didn’t want him running out of money because Blake wanted to continue getting paid. “Well, it’s probably better for you to get back to work, you know, healthy to put your mind on other things.” And earn me some more money. “I just wanted you to know that she will want more money for a weekday.”

 

“That’s fine. I need context.” Blake still didn’t understand Oren’s whole obsession with context or what he even meant by it, but it was more money in his pocket, so it was all good.

 

“I want to say again, how sorry I am that this has happened to you. We’ll get this worked out. I have a good feeling about this. You’ve hired the best.”

 

“Thanks, I feel that way too. I know I can trust you. I know you went above and beyond looking for Mattie, but I hope we have a different outcome here.”

 

Idiot, thought Blake. “Hey Oren, don’t worry. We’ll get this sorted out.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

“Okay, so I’m lining this up. We’re shooting for next Wednesday, right?”

 

“Yes, if your astronomer can make it.”

 

“She can...and about that other guy that your friend Mark is bringing, you know he was the primary suspect in his son’s disappearance, right?”

 

“Yes, I know. If Mark found him and thinks he can be of assistance, then I trust that we should include him.”

 

“I’ve interviewed him before, Oren. He is not all there. Why don’t you let me find someone else?”

 

“You won’t find anyone like this guy, I think.”

 

“Try me. I found the astronomer. I can find anyone. It’s my job, right?”

 

“If you find someone, will they have the capacity to believe what they have studied?”

 

“I’m not sure, but it’s possible, right?”

 

“I don’t think so. I want a true believer in this stuff. I’ve seen it too. I know it’s real. I’m sure that most people won’t believe this stuff. I don’t think that Mark even does yet. I’m pretty sure you don’t, but I am paying you.”

 

“I believe you, Oren,” Blake lied.

 

“I’m sorry, I think Mark’s guy is a good fit. I want him. Okay?”

 

“Very well, Oren. It’s your dime.” Blake had to fix this. He would probably have to threaten the weirdo into not coming, then hire someone else. That would be good, as he could really drag this out and possibly turn one meeting into two where he could get paid, and hire others and skim money off of their payments to get paid further.

 

“Thanks,” replied Oren with a sigh.

 

“So, Wednesday, seven PM, your house. Anything else?”

 

“I think that will do it for now. I’ll call you if I think of something.”

 

“Great, Oren, I’ll see you then. And Oren...take care of yourself. We’ll get your through this and everything will get back to normal, you’ll see.”

 

“Okay thanks. Goodbye.”

 

“Goodbye Oren.” After he disconnected, he dialed out to his secretary.

 

“Yes, Mister Malbourne?” asked Linda after picking up immediately.

 

“How long was I on the phone for?”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry sir; I didn’t turn on the thing.” He sensed a fear in her voice, and that turned him on, not that her physical appearance did anything for him, but he enjoyed the ability to cause others to fear him.

 

“Miss Sanchez, I spent money on that program, and I need you to use it. You time every call I have, especially with a client, do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir, I’m sorry, I—”

 

“I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do your fucking job! I have told you before that I will tell you if I don’t want the call timed. Did I mention not timing it?”

 

“No sir.”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“Sir, if I had to guess it was less than five minutes.”

 

“Did I buy the program so that you can master your abilities to guess how much time has passed? Was the entire system set up so that you can ignore it and just guess, instead of relying on the accurate technology that I paid for?”

 

“No sir.” She sounded almost panicked

 

“That’s right.” He enjoyed the fact that he had upset her. He imagined her squirming with discomfort and fear on the other side of the door. If he were an average guy, he might have been attracted to her and he could probably have easily gotten her, amongst many other women. Then again, if he were an average guy her fear probably wouldn’t arouse him and he might have treated her, and others, with more respect.

 

He often avoided the question when others, mainly clients, asked about his personal life. He led women to believe that he was homosexual, and a rather free spirit not interested in settling down. On the rare occasion that he met a homosexual, he allowed them to think that he dated many women, but wished to remain a bachelor. He had secrets that no one knew, no one save the weird freak Floyd, but he had something on him.

 

As he started to get aroused in his secretary’s discomfort the inevitable happened, he started to imagine her appearance, her looks, her biological smells, and all other things that turned him off to women...and men. Regaining his composure, he took a deep breath. The entire situation hadn’t really bothered him anyway, as he knew what he was going to do before he had even contacted his secretary.

 

“Miss Sanchez, we will assume that it was five minutes. However, I want you to log that as a billable hour.” He then disconnected before she could respond.