Phantom Point
by Gary Inbinder
July 1907: Chicago is sweltering, and hard-boiled detective Max Niemand has a hot, new case. A wealthy socialite hires Max to rescue her wayward artist brother from the clutches of a femme fatale and her dubious California artists’ colony. The job is lucrative, with the promise of a large bonus for good results.
Arriving on the West Coast, Max becomes embroiled in a murder case and a fight over oil rights. In the course of his investigation, he encounters hard-nosed cops, gangsters, an Old West marshal, a tycoon, a cagey lawyer, fast cars, faster women and a malevolent gold-toothed hitman. Before long, Max realizes the odds of living long enough to collect his bonus are definitely not in his favor.
Chapter 29: Offers
part 1
Max was packed and ready to leave when Sam knocked on the door and presented him with an invitation. “Mr. Merwin wants to lunch with you in the Japanese garden. You’ll have plenty of time to catch the afternoon train to Los Angeles.”
Max could hardly refuse such an offer from his generous host. He followed Sam down the long marble corridors, past walls lined with classical paintings, statues on pedestals and display cases filled with pricey curios. At the end of the main hallway, they passed through a doorway leading to the iron and glass enclosure. Light and warmth saturated the vast arboretum on a clear, mild day.
The Eyrie had an indoor garden contained within a two-story iron and glass structure on the seaward side overlooking the terraced gardens. The interior was done in the Japanese style, including bamboo fences, a koi pond, ferns, mosses, stepping stones, stone lanterns, and wooden footbridges leading to an island with a miniature tea house. There was also a centrally located western style dining table set up on a flagstone stage from which the diners could view the interior garden and, on clear days, enjoy a panorama of the exterior landscaping as well.
As they passed through a bamboo gate and proceeded down a stone path, Max heard the plashing of a waterfall flowing into an artificial stream. There was a pleasant outdoor odor of fresh sea air, earth and flowers, courtesy of modern engineering and landscaping. John Merwin made an appearance on the raised dining area. He looked like a man with fifty million dollars who had just doubled his fortune.
Amiable and spruce in his white linen suit, silk shirt and tie, Merwin got up from his chair and came down the path to greet his guest. “Well, Max,” Merwin said as they shook hands, “what do you think of my little indoor hideaway?”
“I’m impressed, Mr. Merwin—”
“Please call me John,” Merwin broke in.
“All right, John. As I said, I’m impressed, but then everything about this place is impressive.”
Merwin smiled with satisfaction at Max’s response to his host’s conspicuous consumption. The millionaire led his guest to the table. Sam disappeared noiselessly.
As soon as they were seated, Max noticed the setting for two. He scanned the area before asking, “Excuse me, John. Isn’t Miss Sinclair going to join us?”
“No, Max. I’m afraid we’ll be mixing business with pleasure, and I’d like to keep this between you and me. But don’t worry,” he added with a knowing smile, “you’ll have time to see Eve after we’re finished.”
Max nodded his understanding without speaking.
Merwin paused to read Max’s face before continuing. Noticing nothing unusual in his guest’s mildly bemused grin, Merwin said, “I hope you like fish.”
“I’m a meat and potatoes guy, but I’m fine with whatever you put on the table.”
“Good. I believe you’ll like this. We’re having grilled swordfish, a California specialty. Fresh from the Santa Teresa market. And I’ve ordered up a bottle of reserve Chardonnay from my vineyards. In my opinion, it’s as good or better than the best French varietals. What do you think?”
“I think that’s swell. Thanks.”
Merwin nodded with a wry smile, as if to say: Of course you think it’s swell. It beats your customary nickel beer and shot of cheap rye. Merwin pressed an electric button to begin service. “They’ll bring the wine along with the first course, a mixed green salad with sliced avocado, shortly. We can start talking business while we’re waiting, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sure. Fire away.”
Merwin laughed. “I like your direct manner of speaking. We’re going to get along fine. First, I have something for you.” Merwin picked up an envelope resting conspicuously next to his salad plate and handed it to Max. “Please open it, Max. You might be surprised; pleasantly, I trust.”
Max opened the envelope and took out a check made to him in the sum of five thousand dollars. He studied it for a moment while maintaining his poker face and then set it down on the table. “This is very generous.”
“You’ve earned it, and there’s more where that came from. I’m about to make you an offer, a business proposition, that I trust you’ll give the serious consideration it deserves. But first I want to fill you in on some details concerning Phantom Point. What I’m about to say to you should remain confidential. Do you agree?”
Max thought a moment before saying, “I agree.”
“Very well, Max. Have you gone through Williams’ confession and his Phantom Point file thoroughly?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Do you believe his statement that he was solely responsible for the murder of Virginia Moore, and that he, and he alone, solicited Arthur Burgess to steal the map and then hired Ralph Moon to recover the map from Burgess?”
“No, I believe he had an accomplice. That is to say, an accomplice besides hired thugs like Moon and Duke Placco.”
“Who was this accomplice?” Merwin frowned, narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
They were interrupted by the sound of a cart rumbling up the path to the dining area. Sam arrived with the salad bowl and the wine. They broke off the conversation until Sam served them and returned to the kitchen.
“This is excellent, isn’t it?” Merwin savored his wine with the palate of a connoisseur.
“Yeah, first rate,” Max agreed.
Merwin put down his glass. “Now then, as to Williams’ partner in crime. Whom do you suspect?”
“Your sister-in-law, Eugenia. She and Williams were lovers, and there’s evidence to support their conspiracy to commit the crimes in question.”
“Yes,” Merwin said. He looked down at his glass, swirled the wine and took another sip before adding, “Yes, indeed.” Then he looked straight at Max. “But I don’t want that to get out. There’s already too much bad publicity surrounding this matter. Do you agree?”
“The guilty parties are dead. No need to dump more dirt on their graves.”
“Of course.” Merwin smiled broadly to show how pleased he was at Max’s answer. “Fortunately, I have some influence with the major newspapers. They’ll keep a lid on it. Now, I’ll say something about the past and present before proceeding to the most intriguing part of our conversation, about a golden future filled with opportunity for those with the foresight to grab hold of it.
“Twenty years ago I purchased the Phantom Point railroad right-of-way and mineral rights from my late father. That was foresight, Max. I was thinking about oil five years before the first big Los Angeles discoveries. Sure, there had been some rich strikes in California going back to the sixties but, with the drilling techniques of that era, the soil had to be just right, and they couldn’t drill deep enough for places like Phantom Point.
“Back in the eighties, only three people in Santa Teresa county guessed the true value of that land: me, Dan Williams and Caleb Moore, Virginia’s father. Now, I’m going to admit to having made a serious mistake. I should have filed a supplemental plat back then, when I bought the rights from my father. But there were so many things going on in my life — I won’t bore you with details — that I put it off, and for a time forgot about it. After all, the drilling technology of that day just wasn’t up to the job. Phantom Point was an investment for the future, that is to say for now.
“When my father died, he left Phantom Point to me and my brother, Paul, in equal shares. His will didn’t mention my rights to the oil and the railroad easement. Shortly thereafter, Williams worked out a scheme with his mistress, my sister-in-law. Eugenia and Williams persuaded my brother to quitclaim his half-interest in the land to Cal Moore, an oil prospector, with a promise that they would all share equally in the oil revenues.
“My brother needed the money, and he couldn’t say no to Eugenia. So he went along with the scheme. Moore, with financial backing from Williams and his investors, began drilling, and I hired a lawyer to file an injunction to stop them. At any rate, before we could obtain the injunction, Moore’s holes came up dry, and the scheme fell apart. I won the court battle and filed the supplemental plat. Not long after, my brother Paul passed away. That should have been the end of the dispute, but Williams and Eugenia kept scheming to extort a settlement.
“Eugenia set up her artist colony to stall my oil syndicate’s plan for renewed exploration. Williams hired Burgess to steal the plat to stir up trouble and cause more delay. Williams dragged poor Virginia Moore into this morass by promising her a share in the profits from his intrigues. I offered them a reasonable settlement in an effort to end the dispute, but Williams refused. Frankly, I believe he would have settled, but Eugenia wanted more. She always wanted more. In the end, her greed ruined many people, including herself.”
Sam came with the main course and a second bottle of wine. The conversation stopped until the service was completed and Sam returned to the kitchen.
For a while, they ate and drank in silence until Max complimented his host: “This fish and wine are excellent. A cut above the eats I’m used to.”
“I suspect you could acquire a taste for our cuisine. But then, you impress me as the sort of fellow who appreciates the finer things in life. That’s a quality I admire.”
Max savored some wine before saying, “Thanks. I do like the good life, if I can afford it. Of course, some folks lie, cheat, steal, and kill to get what they want but. in my experience, there’s always a price to be paid. ‘For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high.’”
Merwin raised an eyebrow and coughed into his napkin. After a pause to clear his throat he said, “Excuse me, Max. What you just said about the price we pay for what we take. Is that a quote from someone famous?”
“Rudyard Kipling,” Max replied between bites of swordfish.
Merwin smiled and shook his head. “You’re a remarkable individual. But then, I already knew that before you came to Santa Teresa. You see, I have friends in Chicago, including a key investor in my new oil syndicate.”
“May I ask the name of that investor?”
“Of course. It’s Cassandra Van Dorn. Does that surprise you?”
“Nope, it makes sense. The Van Dorns have their fingers in a lot of pies,” Max said before returning to his fish.
“Well, it might interest you to know that Miss Van Dorn thinks highly of you, as do I. Which brings me to the subject of the golden future I mentioned. My geologists and drilling experts assure me that I own one of the largest oil reservoirs in North America. Fortunes will be made, and I’m offering you a share in the prosperity. I need a head of security to put together a team of picked men to protect my investment.
“I could hire the Pinkertons for that job, but I prefer my own men, especially when it comes to their leader. Men I can count on in a tight spot, with undivided loyalties. I’ll come right to the point. If you accept my offer, I’ll pay you twenty thousand dollars for the first year, plus a performance bonus and a share in the profits. It’s a great opportunity for the right individual, and I know you can handle it. In a few years you could be independently wealthy and write your own ticket. What do you say, Max? Shall we shake on it?”
Max set down his knife and fork and looked Merwin in the eye. “Thanks for the swell meal and the five thousand. You’ve been more than generous. And I appreciate your confidence in me. But as for your offer, well, I’m afraid I’m going to say no.”
Merwin frowned. “All right, Max. But it’s a serious offer. Do you mind telling me why you’re turning it down?”
“No, John, I don’t mind. Last year some important men in Chicago made me a serious offer that I refused. I won’t go into details, but it was another great opportunity. To be honest, I felt like a chump walking away from it. I guess it goes back to when I left the police. I swore from then on I’d have my own business and remain independent, and I’ve held to it. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
Merwin paused a moment before saying, “I think I understand. Anyway, the job will be open for a while. Think about it and wire me if you change your mind. Now, I guess you’d like to see Eve before you go. She’s waiting for you out on the lower terrace. Follow me, and I’ll show you the way out from here so you don’t have to go back through the house.”
They got up from the table, crossed a footbridge and followed a path that led to a rear exit. When they reached the doorway they shook hands, and Merwin pointed the way out to the parapet overlooking the sea.
* * *
Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder
