It Was a Very Bad Year by Robert J. Randisi

brunettes, redheads. Hundreds of photos, but none of Abby Dalton.
    â€˜He’s got ’em,’ I said. ‘He’s got ’em with ’im.’
    â€˜So he is gonna sell them to you tonight,’ Jerry said.
    â€˜Maybe,’ I said. ‘I’ll find out when I see him.’
    â€˜I’ll come along.’
    â€˜He doesn’t want you there, Jerry,’ I said. ‘If he sees you, he might not show up.’
    â€˜He won’t see me.’
    â€˜Look, Jerry,’ I said, ‘Danny’s gonna be inside. Irwin’s never seen him.’
    â€˜I’ll be outside, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Irwin won’t catch on and neither will the dick. I won’t come in unless there’s shootin’.’
    â€˜You didn’t bring a gun with you on this trip, did you?’
    â€˜No,’ Jerry said, ‘but I can get one.’
    â€˜Look, Jerry, I’ll tell you what I told Danny. This guy’s a middle-aged photographer, not a hard guy. There’s not gonna be any shooting.’
    â€˜And I’ll bet I’m tellin’ you what the dick told you,’ Jerry said. ‘You never know what kind of a guy somebody is. Sometimes, you find out too late. So it’s better to be ready.’
    â€˜He didn’t tell me that.’
    â€˜Well, he should’ve.’
    â€˜He told me a simple swap is not always a simple swap.’
    â€˜He’s right about that.’
    I looked down at the photos in my hand.
    â€˜What do we do now?’ Jerry asked.
    â€˜I don’t think we’re gonna find any photos of Abby here,’ I said, ‘but let’s keep looking, just in case.’
    â€˜Fine by me.’
    We spent a good hour searching the whole house. We found more nudes in a bedroom closet, in a cardboard box, but they were more than nude. They were porn, showing men and women engaged in many different types and positions of sexual activity.
    â€˜Man, that’s gotta hurt,’ Jerry said, of one photo in particular.
    â€˜These are not just photos,’ I said. ‘They look like stills.’
    â€˜From blue movies, you mean?’
    I nodded.
    â€˜But this isn’t what we’re interested in. Let’s put ’em back and go back downstairs.’
    On the way down I said, ‘I’m thinking we missed something in his studio.’
    â€˜Maybe he just kept the pictures of Miss Dalton all someplace else,’ Jerry said. ‘Maybe he’s really gonna give ’em all to you tonight.’
    â€˜You believe that?’
    â€˜No. Blackmailers are the worst. They’re never satisfied.’
    â€˜We’ve got to satisfy this one, Jerry.’
    â€˜I’m ready, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘I love squeezin’ blackmailers.’
    â€˜Well, let me talk to him tonight, and then we’ll see about squeezin’ him.’
    â€˜With me outside and the dick inside, we gotcha covered.’
    â€˜I know,’ I said. ‘I appreciate it.’
    â€˜We gotta clean up here.’ We were in the basement again, the nude photos still spread out on a table. ‘Or he’ll know we was here.’
    â€˜No,’ I said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I want to take all these with us.’
    â€˜All of ’em?’
    â€˜Oh, yeah,’ I said. ‘If he’s plannin’ to blackmail anybody else, I want to throw a monkey wrench into the works.’
    Jerry went back to the file drawer and looked inside.
    â€˜We got negatives here, Mr G.’
    â€˜Good,’ I said. ‘We’ll take all the copies, and the negatives.’
    â€˜Then he’ll really know we was here.’
    â€˜He’ll know somebody was here,’ I said. ‘He won’t be able to prove it was us.’
    â€˜OK,’ Jerry said. ‘You’re the boss.’
    We found some brown envelopes, stuffed them full of photos and negatives, then went out the back door to the Caddy.
    Jerry looked