Page 3 of King’s Ransom

(I have mixed feelings about the FBI. I once applied for a job there and they rejected me because of my lack of interpersonal skills.)

‘The kidnapper was very clear, sir. He’s challenged five of the best detectives in America to try and find Mr King and his kids. He named you as one of those detectives and if you don’t come to Mr King’s apartment in New York City by noon sharp, he’ll kill King and the children.’

That brought me fully awake.

One of the best detectives in America?

I looked at the modest bedroom around me.

Plain wallpaper, neat desk, bookshelf dominated by science fiction and detective novels, and framed posters of my three favourite movies: Aliens, The Dark Knight and Searching for Bobby Fischer.

It didn’t strike me as the abode of any kind of great detective.

The agent went on.

‘Sir, as you’ll no doubt be aware, Mr King is a donor to the President and the President has ordered the Bureau to pull out all the stops.’

I took this all in.

I didn’t care that the kidnap victim was a billionaire or the richest guy on the planet or that he could call the President of the United States at any time.

It was the part about the kids that got me.

Whoever had done this had taken his children and that just wasn’t right.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Just one more thing. I need you to send cars for my two colleagues as well. I want them to come with me.’

I’d never flown in a private jet before.

I must admit the whole experience was very nice.

First, you have a lot of space.

Depending on the cabin configuration, a Gulfstream G550 can hold up to nineteen passengers and there were only three of us on this one: Heidi, Bill and me.

(Note 1: There were also two FBI agents escorting us, but there was still plenty of room.)

(Note 2: I forgot to mention them before, but for those of you who haven’t met them, Heidi and Bill are my business partners at the detective agency: Heidi Spunkmeyer and Bill Brewster.

Heidi is a 25-year-old goth emo Jewish lesbian who likes professional wrestling. She has pink hair and many facial piercings. She thinks I drive way too slowly while I think she drives way too fast. She gets speeding tickets often.

Bill is a Black ex–US Army investigator now in his seventies. He’d been living in hiding for thirty years when I’d found him during that Southern case; I kind of endangered his life by doing so, but then I solved the case and asked him to join my detective agency and he did and he says he really likes being back in the world again and not having to ‘live in the shadows’ so I figure we’re sort of even.)

(Subnote 1 to Note 2: If you want to know what they’ve been up to since last time, earlier this year Heidi went to WrestleMania in Vegas. ‘The single greatest fucking weekend of my life!’ as she put it.

Lately Heidi’s become active on the fundraising committee of a charity called SafeNewHomeUSA which gives money and lodging to women who flee abusive relationships. When they flee their abusive spouses, these women often have no money, no place to live and no rental history so they can’t get a lease. Sadly, we see this a lot in our business. Heidi got Bill and me to donate to the charity on its recent fundraising drive. Heidi is a very kind and socially minded person even if she is a terrible driver.

As for Bill, he still drinks 114-proof wheated bourbon and lately he’s been binge-watching Matlock, the old version starring Andy Griffith, not the new one with Kathy Bates. He’s very set in his ways as Dr Lucy puts it.)

Anyway, the three of us sat in enormous swivelling individual leather chairs and there were whole tables on which we could put our laptops and backpacks.

(Of course, I’d brought along my trusty Maxpedition backpack.

Usually, it held the various tools of my trade: concealed Sig Sauer P226 pistol, handcuffs, laptop, compact aerial drones, prepaid phones, extra ammo clips and sultanas for snacking, but I’d had to remove a few of those items for this trip.

For one thing, I had to take out my gun. The state of New York bans the carrying of concealed firearms, so I was going there unarmed.

Likewise, no handcuffs, extra clips or drones: New York has issues with those, too. Texas, on the other hand, is cool with you carrying every conceivable kind of deadly weapon or restraining device. New York and Texas are very different. In short, I only had my laptop, some burner phones and sultanas in my backpack, which made it very light.)