Mister Jinnah Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Donald J. Hauka

investigators as saying: ‘Trust us.’ You gotta give me something, Dick!”

      “The phrase, ‘Trust us’ has not been used,” Kurster pointed out. “I would put it this way: the investigation has reached a delicate stage.”

      Grant rolled his eyes and exhaled noisily. He snapped shut his notebook. Kurster was playing poker. It was time to see if he was bluffing. Grant resorted to the time-honoured reporter’s ploy of a personal appeal. He dropped the role of interviewer and assumed that of friend and boon companion: no mean feat, given his interviewing style.

      “Listen, Dick,” he said, imitating Kurster’s body language by putting his hands over his head, pressing his greasy, blond hair flat. “This is pointless. Off the record: tell me what the hell’s going on. Have you guys just reached a dead-end?”

      Kurster smiled a tight little smile and sat up, arms folded across his chest.

      “Off the record? Just between you and me?” he asked.

      “My lips are sealed. Shoot.”

      “You did not hear this from me,” said Kurster. “You will go to jail before you reveal me as a source.”

      “Agreed.”

      “It’s like this,” said Kurster, picking up a sheaf of paper from his desk and slowly sorting through it. “The authorities in Jakarta have found details surrounding the transaction in question that put a new light on things.”

      “You’re still prancing around with words,” said Grant, leaning forward. “Straight goods: what’s up?”

      Kurster eyed Grant closely, assessing both him and possible outcome of what he was about to say. Grant knew his obtuse friend was merely grappling for a diplomatic way of letting him know what was going on. Speaking straight did not come naturally to Dick Kurster, but neither did allowing Grant or any other reporter to print stories critical of the Securities Commission. It was one of the reasons why he remained employed.

      “The preliminary evidence suggests that someone other than Schuster was involved in the transaction in question,” Kurster said. “Someone close to Schuster himself. Someone with … how shall I put this? With interests other than those strictly monetary? Do I make myself clear?”

      Grant turned this over in his mind for a moment. Someone close to Schuster. Interests other than those strictly monetary. He ran through the list of players in his mind and the face of Cosmo Lavirtue immediately swam into focus.

      “What interests?” he asked Kurster. “Personal interests?”

      “My lips are sealed,” said Kurster with a grin. “Unfortunately, someone else’s lips weren’t.”

      The implications in Kurster’s leering tone were unmistakable.

      “You’re telling me someone close to Schuster was fooling around with his wife? Is that it?” asked Grant cautiously.

      “It is possible that the arrangement was the other way around, Mister Grant,” grinned Kurster. “But no, clearly that is a possibility that has come to the attention of the authorities both in Jakarta and Vancouver.”

      Grant put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. This wasn’t good at all.

      “If we head down this road,” he said, eyes still closed. “I can see a couple of problems. Problem one, if there’s an affair involved, it makes it much more likely Sam Schuster was murdered, right?”

      “I can’t fault your reasoning. And we’re still strictly off the record.”

      “But what about the insurance policy?”