Tek Money by William Shatner Page A

She leaned closer to him and kissed him, once, on the cheek.
    The robot in the shabby green tuxedo said, “You don’t want the blintzes.”
    Gomez gave him an inquiring look. “Milt’s Delicatessen is noted throughout the West for its blintzes.”
    â€œNot tonight.”
    â€œWhat, then?” asked the detective.
    â€œThe only thing I’d trust is the chicken soup.”
    Shaking his head, Gomez said, “Nope, I’m not in the mood for that this evening. Just bring me a cup of nearcaf for now.”
    â€œA real spender I got here.”
    As the waiter shuffled away from the small ground-level booth, Jake arrived and slid in opposite his partner. “Have a profitable day?”
    â€œFairly so—and quite scary at one point. And you?”
    â€œMemorable.” Jake filled him in on his encounters with Dillinger, Wolfe Bosco and the young man who’d followed him to the Sherman Oaks Sector.
    After he finished, Gomez asked, “How’d you know the lad wasn’t the creator of the Dillinger andy?”
    â€œBecause, Sid, I happen to know who the true owner and operator of that Banx-tapping operation is,” he replied, grinning. “I made it my business to find out quite a while ago, but I’ve never let on to Dillinger. Whoever sent this kid to get rid of me was obviously eavesdropping electronically on my meeting in the Palm Springs Sector today, where I kidded with the andy about being ignorant as to who was behind him.”
    â€œAnd this cholo had a lazgun in his reticule?”
    Jake nodded. “Yeah, I found it in his briefcase after I stungunned the lad.”
    â€œAm I correct in assuming, amigo , that this assassin turned out to have no idea who actually hired him? He’s a freelance murderer and was contacted anonymously, paid a fee and prepped on what to say and do.”
    â€œThat’s my boy, yeah,” agreed Jake. “I turned him over to the SoCal cops and then ran a make on him. He works out of the San Diego Sector, has four arrests but no convictions and his name is Clare Victor Hillman.”
    Gomez said, “ Gracias ,” as the greenclad waiter plopped a cup of nearcaf down in front of him.
    â€œDon’t thank me until after you taste it.” The waiter scowled at Jake. “You just here to try out the seating arrangements?”
    â€œI’ll have the blintzes.”
    â€œComing right up.”
    Gomez tugged at the side of his moustache. “Before Dillinger became nothing more than a defunct mechanism sprawled upon the burning sands of the desert, he claimed that there was a transfer of an enormous amount of dinero from certain interests in Spain into the coffers of Gunsmiths, Ltd., right?”
    â€œInto a fund that certain folks connected with Gunsmiths can access,” said Jake. “Keep in mind, Sid, that we don’t as yet know what the money was paid for.”
    â€œDevlin Guns would be my guess,” said his partner. “Ah, and speaking of that little dingus—let me describe to you the demo I got from Barragray.” He went on to tell Jake about what he’d seen on the holostage in the executive’s office.
    â€œThat’s a rough one,” observed Jake when he’d finished. “Hate to think there are hundreds of those floating around. Particularly since they may be in the hands of the Zabicas Cartel by now.”
    â€œIt’s definitely kindly old Teklord Carlos Zabicas who is the recipient of the missing weapons?”
    â€œProbably, Sid, although Dillinger—just before he ceased to be—was implying that, while Zabicas is the customer, he wasn’t the original source of the money.”
    â€œIf Dillinger was right—and considering that they knocked him off to keep him from giving you more colorful details, we have to conclude he was—then the trail doesn’t end in Madrid.”
    â€œWe’ve got a couple of other