Page 37 of Mann Hunt
“Sure,” Charlie said.
“Check out all the social media sites and find out anything you can about Ian Mann—his friends, anyone who’s said anything bad about him. And look into the Axemen. Same thing. Let’s see if there’s any dirt out there.”
“Will do.”
Declan looked at Charlie. “I’m heading to the deli. Want something?”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Charlie reached into his pocket for his wallet.
“My treat,” Declan said, then headed out the door.
Charlie got to work. He started with Facebook. A search showed that Ian didn’t appear to have an account, at least under his own name, but a few entries hash-tagged#ianmanndid pull up a number of interesting posts.
The door opened and Declan dropped a bag off on his desk. “Here you go.”
Charlie smiled. “Thanks.”
Declan headed into his office.
As Charlie wolfed down his pastrami on rye, he copied the Facebook posts into a file and moved on to Twitter and Instagram.
Charlie worked through the afternoon, copying everything else of interest into a file which he sent to the printer. When he glanced at the clock, it was after five. He grabbed his report and headed into Declan’s office.
Declan was on the computer. Charlie rapped on the door jam. “It seems that Ian Mann was not loved by everyone.”
“Oh?” Declan slid his chair back and indicated that Charlie should sit down.
“There were a number of posts critical of him for making a profit on real estate sales on the backs of suffering oil companies during the financial collapse.”
“Some people have long memories.”
“What was more interesting were posts from people from the hockey community who were out for him.”
“Interesting.”
Charlie continued. “On Twitter I came across a number of tweets concerning the possible sale of the team to a banker from Toronto. Some of the sponsors were starting to question where their money was going and some of the parents felt that Ian, as the owner, might not have been putting all of the player fees back into the team.”
“They think he was embezzling?”
“Some people said he was selling before the books could be audited.”
Declan’s eyes lit up. “Well…I think you’ve done a very good day’s work. Let me take you out to celebrate.”
As Declan and Charlie went to lock up the office, Charlie said, “Let me show you how your security system works.”
Declan let out a sigh.
Charlie began, “The code is six-seven-seven-two. If you look at the letters on the keypad, that spells out ‘MrsB’. So if you punch in the code followed by the ‘Stay’ button the only thing that will happen is you’ll hear three short beeps when someone comes through the street-level door. You won’t hear it up in your apartment, though. It’s not that loud. If you put in the same code and press ‘Away’, that arms the main office door up here. If the alarm isn’t deactivated by the code within thirty seconds of the door being opened, a siren will sound and the alarm company will be notified. You’ll definitely hear that upstairs. Wanna try it?””
“Maybe after we get back. Now, Let’s get going. We’ll take my vehicle.”
“Where is it?”
“Mickey dropped it off behind the building yesterday. There it is.”
Charlie looked around for a sexy car. Maybe an Audi, or a Lexus. Something a hot private investigator would drive. “Where?”
“You’re standing in front of it.”
