Just watch me: Life of a private dick
The closest I came to executive protection during my tenure as a private detective was keeping a takeout coffee from spilling onto the floor of my boss’s minivan during a particularly dull stakeout.
For most of Canada’s private investigators, keeping CEOs safe takes a distant back seat to tracking insurance claims. No femme fatales in dimly lit alleyways, no Maltese Falcons, no Ferraris — just hours squatting in the back of an anonymous van fitted with tinted windows, sipping coffee from a flask, videocam at the ready.
In other words, surveillance, surveillance, surveillance…
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