Chapter 3

A/N: I will be posting at least one chapter a week on Saturdays. The story should come out to be about 7 chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Eric Cartman sits as his desk thinking about lunch. Maybe he will go over to that steak place on 5th Ave., or the sandwich place on 6th. Their food was always good.

Suddenly the intercom beeps. He almost falls out of his chair trying to straighten himself up.

"Mr. Broflovski is here." His secretary says through the speaker.

"Send him in."

Mr. Broflovski is a shorter Jewish man, balding and mid 50's, with an almost tired domineer to him. Cartman sneers. He doesn't really like Jews, but was happy enough to take their money. From his experience, they usually asked for some dirt digging on other Jewish families, something he is more than happy to provide.

"Mr. Cartman." Gerald says, extending his hand. "We spoke on the phone earlier. About procuring your services to find out what is going on with my son."

"Oh yes." Cartman says, taking his hand. "Staying out all hours of the night, coming home looking disheveled."

"He's not a bad kid, I just want to make sure he hasn't fallen in with the wrong crowd. Something like that could ruin his reputation, destroy his future you know." Gerald says.

"You don't have to tell me what reputation means." Cartman says proudly. "Don't worry, I'll find out what your son is up to, Mr. Broflovski. You have nothing to worry about."

Gerald looks down at his feet nervously. "If he's into anything, uh, illegal I would appreciate it if you didn't go to the police. You know, give me a chance to straighten it out first. There would be some money for your silence, of course."

Cartman smiles, "Like I said, you have nothing to worry about. Client confidentiality is of the utmost importance to me. Now, I will need a picture of your son, his schedule, addresses, things like that, as well as half me fee laid out in advance."

Gerald pulls out an envelope and puts it on Cartman's desk. "Everything you need is in there: his picture, schedule, addresses, his office, home, known friends, as well as an ID card to give you access to the building. As well as your fee."

Cartman smiles at that and takes Mr. Broflovski's hand again. "Don't worry, well find out what's going on with your son." He says, walking him to the door.

"Mr. Cartman, thank you." Gerald says, sort of tipping his hat.

"Mr. Broflovski, the pleasure is all mine. We'll find out what your son has been up to and protect his reputation just as if he was our own." Cartman says.

Cartman takes the money out of the envelope first, counting it. He loves money, especially if he could take it out of a Jew's hand. He lights a cigar and puts his feet up on his desk. He pulls out the picture of the boy, young with curly hair, red from what the father had told him. Cartman laughs, this job was going to be easy money. The guy wasn't exactly the tough type. He couldn't imagine he was involved in anything too deep. Maybe he was fooling around with a factory girl, or perhaps one of the secretaries. It embarrassing, sure, but not hard to uncover and certainly not as dangerous as some of the other things he's worked on.

He pulls the schedule from the envelope. He sees Kyle takes lunch around 12. Typical, Cartman thinks. He probably wasn't one to break schedule. He looks at the office address. He should head over there and see if he couldn't tale Kyle on his lunch. See him meeting up with his office floozy. He takes his feet of the desk, sighing. Even an easy case required some work.

The safe opens with a clink. He deposits the cash inside and slams the door shut, spinning the dial. He's never really trusted anyone. Not even the people who worked for him. You just never know. Grabbing his coat and top hat, he grabs the envelope off the desk, stuffing it in his pocket. He picks up the newspaper and tucks it under his arm. It always comes in handy if one needed to disappear in a hurry. Surprisingly good cover.

"Sir, a wire came for you this morning." Cartman's secretary says as he is locking up his office. He takes the note out of her hand.

Eric got myself into a bit of a situation.

Need $100 by next week.

Mom.

Cartman shook his head. His mom was an old whore and didn't know how to stay out of trouble. Even though she could be a pain he still had a soft spot for her.

"Transfer the money into her account." He says to the secretary with a sigh. One day he really was going to cut her off.

"Already done, sir." The woman says, continuing to type away.

For a private detective, Cartman is not in the best of shape and he's panting by the time he reaches the factory. He takes a seat on a bench across the street and unfolds his paper, pretending to read while watching the exit to the building.

Around 12:10 a young man that matches the photo he'd been given emerges. Cartman has to laugh. He was even scrawnier and weaker looking that the photo let on. If this guy was involved with a girl she had to be planning to blackmail him. What other purpose could someone like him serve? Cartman gets up from his bench and follows Kyle from the other side of the street. He might have been out of shape but when it came to tailing he was the best.

He traces Kyle to a semi casual cafe about 3 blocks from the factory. It's the kind of place that still had an upper crust feeling to it but would allow their clientele some casual ambiance without damaging their precious reputations. He watches from across the street as Kyle is seated before going inside.

"Table for one please." He says, approaching the maitre d stand.

The man stares at him with the kind of face that says he doesn't belong. He gives him an annoyed stare back. If he wasn't working he would probably go off on the man but he has a job to do. He will figure out a way to get revenge later.

"That one." He says, pointing to a table not too close to Kyle, but well within the sight line.

Cartman orders a sandwich so that he can keep an eye on Kyle and even leave relatively quickly if possible but still blend in with the other customers. There is practically no activity during lunch. No one comes or goes and Kyle doesn't really converse with anybody except for the overly talkative waiter. Not that it matters. In fact, the expensive lunch will be included on his final bill to Mr. Broflovski. He makes sure to flag down the waiter and pay his bill before Kyle finishes eating. If the boy planned to meet up with anybody afterward he will be ready to tail him.

Kyle goes straight back to the factory after lunch. Cartman takes his seat on the bench, glad he brought his stakeout bag with his camera, along with snacks and other things to do. He planned to stay there until Kyle came out of the factory again at closing time.

It's dark by the time Kyle comes out of the factory. Cartman can barely make him out but can identify him by his distinctive red curls. There is someone else with him, too. He got excited. It had to be the girl he's screwing around with. By the silhouette she is pretty unshapely. It would make sense. What average looking girl would ruin her reputation for a scrawny thing like Kyle? The person Kyle's with steps under a street lamp and Cartman can see it is another guy. For a second he's disappointed, writing the guy off as a co worker or a friend, but then it hits him that the guy is dressed like a worker, not someone who would be associating with the owner's son. Maybe Kyle was involved in some deeper stuff than he had originally thought. Than to Cartman's surprise, the man turns around and kisses Kyle on the lips! In shock, Cartman fumbles for his camera but the two have already separated, headed in different directions.

"Oh, this is too good." Cartman thought to himself. "He's a fag. Boy, is that Broflovski guy gonna pay out the nose on this one to keep me quiet."

Once again I would like to thank theDoctorlies for proofreading my work. A good beta reader is always nice to have.