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“Please show me your badges again,” Shaut demanded.
“Shields, Mister Shaut,” Pro corrected as she opened her leather billfold and held it out for the man. “Officers have badges, detectives have shields.”
“Whatever.” He shrugged. Facing him were two matching chrome and leather chairs and he gestured to them. “Please sit and tell me what I can do for two of New York’s finest.”
Chu spoke first. “We wanted to speak to you about emails you were exchanging with one Albert Floss about an unnamed item.”
“Christ,” Shaut said, displeased. “Is Marvell sending the cops after me now?” He called out to his assistant, “You hear that, Brent, Marvell’s sending the cops after us.”
Brent walked back into the room carrying a mug emblazoned with the phrase “I’D RATHER MAKE RABBITS DISAPPEAR” and placed it in front of his employer, then added ruefully, “The man certainly has a problem, Mister Shaut.”
“I’ll say he does,” Shaut said as Brent returned to the nearby room. “Look, detectives, he honestly doesn’t have a leg to stand on—”
“You were in touch with Mister Marvell?” Pro interrupted.
“Yeah, and tell him if he makes any more threats, I’m going to have the Las Vegas Police visit him.”
“Are you sure you are speaking about Max Marvell?” Chu queried.
“Yeah, isn’t he the one who sent you? I mean I know that he’s buddies with the mayor, but that doesn’t mean he can send detectives to harass me—”
Chu cleared his throat, and Pro let him take over.
“We aren’t here for Marvell, Mister Shaut,” Chu pointed out. “We are here because of your relationship with Albert Floss.”
“What? Yeah, I know Al. He’s been around forever. In fact, he was selling me information on a trick—an illusion.”
“By any chance,” Pro coaxed, “the Prism?”
Something clicked in Shaut’s mind, and his eyes became narrow as he gazed at Pro. “Hey, I know you, those blue eyes. Now I know this is a scam. You’re Max’s kid, Prophecy.” He rose up from his chair and pointed at Pro, his face growing red. “I remember seeing you backstage when you were little! What are you two trying to pull—”
“Mister Shaut,” Chu raised his voice to silence the man. “We are here because we are investigating the murder of Albert Floss.”
Shaut stared at Chu, unbelieving. “Al’s dead? Murdered?”
“Yes, sir, yesterday at 11:00 AM in his shop on—”
“I know where it is,” Shaut disclosed as he fell heavily into his chair. “Who did it? Was it Max? Is that why you brought—” He pointed an accusing finger at Pro.
“Detective Thompson is my partner. We are the detectives assigned to the case.”
“Thompson? Oh yeah, I heard your mom remarried,” Shaut concluded and turned to Pro. “Glad you were smart enough to change your name.”
Pro’s mouth was a tight line as she pushed back her anger. “We are not here to discuss me, Mister Shaut. We are here to ask you about your business arrangements with Albert Floss.”
His hands went up defensively. “Whaddaya talkin’ about? Everybody knew Al, and everybody did business with the old man.”
Chu took over. “But you were emailing him about an item. May I ask what the item was?”
“Sure, it was like the broad said—it was Prism.”
“Broad?” Pro fumed and rose from her seat. Chu put a restraining hand on her shoulder, and she slowly lowered into it, her blue eyes fixed angrily on Shaut.
“Sorry, uh…lady…uh…cop…detective, whatever you are,” Shaut offered dismissively. “If Al ended up dead, you gotta look at Max Marvell. When he found out I was interested in Prism, he started to write me emails sayin’ he was gonna sue my ass—and worse.”
“Do you have copies of those emails?”
“Yeah. Hey, Brent!”
