Rip Tide, Robert F Clifton [best free e reader TXT] 📗

at this time, worthless. It's what is known as penny stocks.

Nonetheless, if Bill convinces her that he's real and John Hanes buys Amalgamated Energy Stock and does a pump and dump scheme that gives us further evidence of insider trading.”

“What's pump and dump?”, asked Emily'

“It's a form of stock fraud that involves artificially inflating the price of an owned stock through false and misleading statements. The buyers buy and the market value increases. Then, a guy like Hanes quickly sells and the market drops. Guys like Hanes make money, by selling the stock as a broker and as a stockholder”.

“But, it doesn't give you a murderer”, said Qwen.

“No, not yet, but little by little it's all coming together”.

On September 1, 1978 the beach resort town of Nautilus Beach, New Jersey population of forty thousand expanded to one hundred thousand with the influx of conventioneers and summer visitors. Practically every hotel room in the resort was booked and filled. Crowds of people walked the boardwalk and paved streets. Groups of pedestrians crossed the streets against the red light or jaywalked causing the honking of automobile horns and curse words from angry drivers. This was the beginning of Labor Day weekend. It was also the beginning of the end of the summer season for the year. Local merchants were now in the position where they had to make as much profit as possible in order to survive a lack of business in the off season.

The energy convention was also the last fashion show of the season for the Nautilus Beach Modeling Agency. Robert Wallace sat with pen and pad and wrote down, “ Seven conventions. Five thousand per show, salaries to models. Boat, waterfront home, other expenses, don't figure?”

“How can the Butlers afford the lifestyle they live? At best they'll make thirty five thousand dollars this season. Then, there are expenses, taxes,

license fees. The models kick back. What? Eighty dollars? Four hundred a show”, figures don't add up. Insider trade suspected, still, not enough, Drugs? No evidence or mention of drugs. What else? What would go with insider information. Sex and talk? Sex and extortion?....Bingo!..that could be it”, Wallace thought.

He went to the telephone and called Bill O'Neil at home. “Hello”, said Bill when he answered the phone.

“Bill? Wally. I've been sitting here wondering just how in the hell the modeling agency is able to do business with the amount of money they're pulling in. I thought I covered every angle, legitimate and illegitimate, meaning prostitution and insider trading. However, those still don't add up. I then got an idea that to me makes sense. Extortion. It could be that the models turn the tricks where they're taping and photographing the johns. You more or less hit on it when you suggested that the ring could have one or two rooms set aside in a hotel. Let's suppose they do and let's suppose they have a hidden listening devise and camera in that room”.

“Sounds logical. If so then that puts a new spin on this case. At the same time if I'm asked to meet one of the models in a room other than mine that should be the clue we're looking for. If and when it happens I'll let you know”, said O'Neil.

“Good, meanwhile I'll call Qwen and let her know what's going on”.

“Alright Wally, talk with you later”.

Wallace then dialed the telephone number of Emily Wescoat. “Hello”, she said when she answered.

“Hi, how are you”, he asked.

“Tired. It's been a hectic day. They were standing in line in the emergency room. It seemed that every other person in Nautilus Beach was either cut, sprained, broken, had a mysterious rash or sunburned.'

“Welcome to your first beach resort, Labor Day weekend. Cheer up. Next month you can shoot a cannon ball down main street and you won't hit a thing”.

“Right now I'm looking forward to it”.

“Is Qwen there?”
“Yes, just a moment. Qwen?”

“Hello Wally”.

“Hi kid. Listen, Bill and I just came up with a new angle. It's possible that the models could be using a room in a different location, hotel, motel, hell, it could even be a private dwelling. We think when they turn a trick it's photographed and taped. Then, the video with sound is used to extort money. By no means are you to go to any room other than the one that we have at the Sand Piper Hotel. If anyone suggest that you go anywhere else you don't go. Pretend you're sick, injured, whatever. Understand?”

“Yes, got it”.

“What time is the fashion show tomorrow?”

“There are two shows. The first one is swim wear. That's at eleven in the morning. The next one is a five pm. The display is evening wear”.

“Hmmmm. Normally, one would think that prostitutes operate at night. Not. So, particularly in this case. So, I'll go out on a limb so to speak and guess that Martha Hanes will suggest a sexual rendezvous with Donald Trainer between seven and eight pm.

“The problem might be to get Martha into Captain O'Neils room”, said Qwen.

“Possibly, but I doubt it. This is the big weekend, the final show. The merry wives of the organization will want to make a big score. They'll be anxious to work and Martha Hanes will be looking to set up Donald Trainer

on film. At least that's what I hope happens.”

“Well, we'll see soon, won't we?”

“Yep. O.K. Unless you have any questions I'll talk again to Emily”.

“No, I'll be ready. Emily? Wally wants to talk to you again. Bye Wally'.

“Bye”.

“Hello?”, said Emily.

“Sorry for the interruption, but I had to talk business. Now, I want to talk pleasure. And that is the New York Symphony is scheduled to perform at Hopewell. Would you like to go?”.

“Oh yes. Do you know what the score is?”.

“Beethoven. I know the Ninth Coral Symphony is listed”.

“It sounds delightful. When is it?”

“Saturday, the twenty third. I thought we could stop at a nice little restaurant I know, one that's off the beaten path, have dinner and then motor on up to Hopewell”.

“Do I have to dress”?

“Casual. You have your choice of sitting in a beach chair or sitting on a blanket”.

“I'll take the beach chair”.

“You got it. O.K. I have to go now. I have some things to do and many things to kick around in my mind”.

“Good by, Robert”.

“Bye”

At eleven o'clock the next morning, Captain William O'Neil, posing as conventioneer, Donald Trainer, sat in a first row seat in front of the fashion show's runway. Several seats to his left sat Erica Butler. She was seated behind a small table that contained a petite desk lamp, a microphone, clipboard containing a list of models and the fashions they would be wearing. Butler leaned forward, gave opening comments about the show, introduced the first model, Mary Ann Bell and the fact that she was wearing a Hamilton designed, beach robe, white, made of cotton, and priced at eighty eight dollars.

O'Neil applauded lightly with the rest of the audience as Mary Ann Bell walked towards the backstage.

Next to be introduced was Martha Hanes. “O'Neil sat up straight in his seat wanting to visibly perceive just what this particular woman looked like. Plus, the fact that what she was modeling could be a subject he could use in a conversation with her later. Hanes was wearing a black, bikini priced at four hundred and forty nine dollars. He had to admit to himself that Martha Hanes was not only attractive, she was beautiful, not too tall, not too short and round in the right places.

He waited patiently until Qwen Phillips modeled the same suit only white and deliberately leaned forward in his seat at which time out of the corner of his eye he saw Erica Butler turned her head and look at him.

As Qwen headed towards the backstage O'Neil stood and applauded making it impossible not to be noticed.

At the end of the morning fashion show O'Neil walked over to where Erica butler stood. She looked up from the pile of papers on the table faced him and smiled. “Can I help you?”, she asked.

“I hope so. I understand that in addition to the fashion show at times there are private showings. Are you the one I have to talk to in order to arrange such a thing?”

“No, that would be Martha Hanes. She was the blonde wearing the black bikini, Mister?”

“Trainer, Donald Trainer”, said O'Neil pointing to the name tag pinned to the lapel of his light blue sport coat.

“Of course, Mister Trainer. What I do need to know is what model and fashions you would want for your private showing”, said Butler.

“That's easy. I want the red head. The one that was wearing the white bikini. She can model that and lingerie”.

“I don't see your wife, Mister Trainer”.

“She's back in Pennsylvania. I am sure that after your model is finished I'll be more than satisfied and will look forward to purchasing the fashions you carry”.

“The Mrs. is a lucky woman. If you wait here I'll have Martha speak with you and make arrangements”.

“That's fine. Thank you”.

Five minutes later Martha Hanes stood in front of Captain O'Neil.

“Mister Trainer? I am Martha Hanes. Erica has told me that you would like a private showing. Is that right?”

“Yes it is”.

“And you prefer Qwen Phillps modeling beachwear and lingerie?”

“Correct, if she was the redhead”.

“Fine, the fee for a private show is five hundred dollars an hour. Have you any idea how long of a demonstration you would want?”

“One hour should be enough”, O'Neil answered with a smile.

“So, what you're telling me is that's how long it will take for you to be satisfied?”

“Yes, by then I should know what I want to purchase for my wife”.

“Very good. Now what I need is your hotel. Room number and time”.

“I'm under the impression that there is another show this evening. Is that correct?”

“Yes it is. That will begin a five o'clock. The girls will be wearing casual and sportswear”.

“Excellent, I might see something on that order too, for the wife”.

“Well, the show should end about seven pm. Now what time would you like Qwen to come to your room?”

“Let's see. I have to have dinner, talk business with a few people.

Is eight thirty or nine this evening alright?”

“No problem mister Trainer. Now, I need the hotel and room number”.

“Oh, of course. The Sand Piper Hotel room 708. do I pay you now, or the model later?”

“You pay the model after she has rendered her services”.

“I see. Thank you”.

“Thank you Mr. Trainer. I hope you have a very satisfying evening”.

“Before you go. Suppose I want you to model for me privately?”

“Do you mean along with Qwen?”

“No. There would be just you and me”.

“Martha Hanes smiled. “I see. Same arrangement, Same price”.

“Perhaps I might be interested in seeing you model at another time”.

“If and when you decide I'll send my card along with Qwen. You can always reach me at home. However, this evening I'm booked, also for a private showing”.

“I see. Close by?”

“As a matter of fact it will be in your hotel”.

“Then, is it possible for you to stop by and see me, say around ten tonight?”

“Certainly, however, after I give one private showing I don't do another on the same day. I am somewhat fastidious. I prefer a hot shower or a long bath afterwards. If you know what I mean”.

“Oh, of course. However, you could stop by for a drink and conversation. That way we could make the ah? What do you call it? Ah, yes the arrangements”.

“Yes I can do that. So then ten o'clock, right?”

“Oh yeah”.

At five minutes past eight pm. Qwen Phillips stepped out of the elevator on the seventh floor of the Sand Piper Hotel. She pulled a small, black, two wheel, suitcase behind her. The suitcase had been packed with two bikini's, one black, one white. Also contained was a beach robe, nightgowns, bras and panties all put there by Erica Butler.

When she got to room 708 she knocked lightly on the door and after a minute