Lake Union

   "Methinks a boat ride is in order."

   Whenever the boss started speaking in Shakespearean English I knew something was up.

   "OK, I'll bite. What?"

   "Won't you let me take you on a sea cruise?"

   "Mrs. Robinson, I believe you're trying to seduce me."

   I had been working at Applied Diffusion Research for nearly half a year. Most of the cases were routine: deadbeat dads, disappearing embezzlers, sex offenders with new identities, all the people who didn't want to be found. We'd find them and take a third of the net. There was another class of cases, however, those which involved political intrigue. As the Wicked Witch of the West once said: "These things must be done delicately..." They were strictly a cash+expenses deal.

   I had heard of the boss's "Sea Cruises". They were usually done when only the highest level of secrecy was needed. The boss had a little runabout, kept in the marina behind the Naval Reserve building in Seattle's Lake Union. In theory, when you were out on the lake with the motor running no one could overhear or monitor your conversation. Later that afternoon we boarded the nondescript vessel- "Fleet ADR" as it was known in the office. It was a classic- a simple motorboat with a teak deck supporting a divided windshield and small canopy. The interior was spartan- two wooden seats, a wheel, and a dashboard with only an ignition switch and a throttle. My boss gave the interior a thorough examination before we cast off. No bugs. The motor sputtered, then caught and we headed out in the direction of the Gasworks Park on the other side of the lake.

   "You went to school with Senator Clarkson's son, is that not so?" The overly formal style of speech led me to believe that this would not be an idle chat.

   "Yes, I knew him, as you well know." There were few secrets between staff members at ADR.

   "We need your special knowledge for this case. Or, should I say, these cases."

   Billy Clarkson. My old roommate, my doppelgänger. We were almost dead ringers for each other. He had a way with women and a learning block when it came to English Lit. His myopic instructor never figured out that I had taken his finals for him, raising his C- average to a solid B. When he had two dates for an evening, he would offer me one. He never really cared for any of them; he was a "Four F" kind of guy. He gave me the girls who he thought wouldn't put out. I was the perfect gentleman, although a couple of girls were really lonely and wanted someone to do more than just talk. These I obliged.

   "As you know, Senator Clarkson is running for president. His son may become a liability."

   "What's he been up to? Isn't this a job for the journalists?"

   "We've been contacted by the Senator's people. They've lost him. They think he may jeopardize the campaign if he were to emerge in, shall we say, an inopportune circumstance."

   "Do we have anything on him?"

   "Almost nothing since he left college- that's why I want you in on this case. You know him better than anyone. We need to make sure that little Billy remains a non-factor until after the election."

   "What we do with him when we find him?" I didn't like taking on an open-ended case like this- too many things could go wrong, too many players involved, too much at stake. The boat had made a lazy figure-8 on the lake, we were nearing the marina.

   "Well, that depends a lot on what he's up to. You might have to babysit him for a few months."

   "Location work." Molly wouldn't like this. We had gotten real comfortable in our living arrangements over the last coupe of months. The first real test.

   After we tied up the boat we walked back to the parking lot.

   "Are you in?"

   "Yeah."

   "So let's get to work."



Fiction