The Way Things Seem

by Mackey Chandler

  “Do you see any reason he could reasonably refuse?” David asked.

  “No, especially given the stated reasons for excluding him. A means test might have been appropriate. He might well have written the will that way, even set it up as a contest, though discovery might have gotten sticky later on the availability of Sahars or the bias in using one. You might have had to draw lots over who would go first,” Crenshaw speculated. “But I think we can avoid all that. Do you wish to report to me you have successfully completed your quest?”

  “I do. Successful beyond any initial expectations I had,” David added.

  “Then I accept your report. There are no actual actions to freeze the funds, an oversight they may regret, so I’m calling my secretary right now to wire the cash funds to the same account to which your ten million dollar bequest was deposited. The transfer agent for the securities will be contacted and given your particulars. He’ll contact you. Is that satisfactory?”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” David agreed.

  Crenshaw pulled out his phone and selected a number. “Simmons, have the balance of the funds payable to David Carpenter wired to his account and the stocks transferred. He’s satisfied the terms.”

  He gave a little smile. “Better to have it out of the way. You never know when somebody will darken your door to serve you. Now, it becomes a matter of trying to claw it back. I hope you fulfill your father’s expectations and take an interest in these firms after you become the stockholder of record. It’s likely you will be offered board positions after those changes are recorded. At the least some of the senior officers will want to know if you intend to be an active or passive shareholder.”

  “I’ve been too busy staying alive to think about that. I have no particular expertise in many of the things my father pursued,” David said. “I may contribute some of my own general business philosophy. If the fellows running them now are doing fine I wouldn’t be inclined to force any sudden changes. I’m not an activist to meddle if they are making money.”

  “Do you have something you wish done with that package you sent us,” Crenshaw asked, “or should I just hang on to it for now?

  “As soon as I find somebody who has some expertise at propagating succulents I’ll give you an address to ship it. From what I’m reading the way I saved the segments was correct to do what they call harden them off, so they can likely be rooted later.”

  The lemon cheesecake arrived. It had a deep yellow layer with zest and smelled strongly of lemon.

  “Would you like coffee with dessert,” their waiter asked.

  Please, for both of us,” Crenshaw said, after David’s nod.

  “So, do relate any of your experience you’d care to share,” Crenshaw invited.

  David was happy to do so and didn’t stop to realize Crenshaw must have cancelled any appointments after lunch to deal with David, because the conversation went well into the afternoon. When he came to the point he returned to New York David stopped and regarded Crenshaw with a very serious demeanor.

  “There are events I’d rather not share unless we have attorney-client privilege,” David said. “Now that you have discharged your obligations surrounding me, for my father’s estate, may I retain you as my attorney on personal matters, not as counsel for my company?”

  “If you can supply two things,” Crenshaw stipulated. “An immediate cash advance on your retainer and some physical demonstration your story isn’t the manifestation of a deranged mind or a hoax perpetrated on you by some subterfuge.”

  David smiled and put a dollar on the table, which Crenshaw made no move to pick up.

  “Observe,” David requested, and tilted his cup so Crenshaw could see the last few table-spoons of coffee in the bottom.

  Crenshaw nodded his acceptance.

  David didn’t make any show of straining or furrowing his eyebrows. He didn’t even look in the cup. With no significant delay he held the saucer out in front of Crenshaw and inverted the cup. Nothing happened, so he tapped the cup lightly on the saucer. A perfect little brown lens of frozen coffee fell out on the saucer and David handed it to the attorney.

  Crenshaw touched a finger to the ice and shook his head in amazement. He reached across and tilted it back in the cup still in David’s hand and returned the saucer to the table.

  “I’m satisfied, but don’t ever expect me to testify to what I just saw. I know what I saw but as a practical matter that’s how people get you committed.

  There was an awkward silence, like Crenshaw was waiting for him to resume. David just pointed to the dollar bill still untouched on the table. Crenshaw gave a little laugh and tucked the bill in his shirt pocket completing the transaction.

  “You know, I believe with a little couching you could make a decent trial lawyer. That was very dramatic,” Crenshaw told him. “Now what did you do you were afraid to tell me?”

  David had to admire the fact Crenshaw only raised an eyebrow askance when he related his experience in Customs. To the rest there was no reaction.

  “I could never advice you to assault an officer of the law or anyone else for that matter,” Crenshaw said at the end of his tale. “Next time, trot off obediently to jail and let me sort it out for you. That is my official advice. Please carefully remember I offered it for any future reference. I’d never advocate as practical a solution as what you used. I think now everything is resolved, if you do?”

  “Got you,” David agreed, “would it offend you terribly if you don’t drop me off anywhere in that awful self-driving car?”

  “No, I could tell it was torture for you. You watch every move it makes and judge them. You have to do as I do and not even watch. I often read or do calls while using it and ignore it. In fact I have it set to tell me quite loudly when we’ve arrived or I can sit there engrossed in something and fail to note that I’ve arrived.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind to try if I’m ever forced to ride in one again,” David said.

  “I’m off then. Have Benjamin there call whatever transport you wish and the doorman will call up when it arrives,” Crenshaw suggested. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed this lunch.”

  Benjamin took David’s instruction and had his coffee refilled without asking.

  Chapter 18

  The same company that took David to Crenshaw’s office was able to get a car to him in about ten minutes. They must either have other offices and lots, or are able to divert a car coming off duty, David decided. It wasn’t the same Toyota and driver but it wasn’t a limo either David was happy to see.

  He had the driver head for the airport and told him he’d have a destination before they got too far along. If there was a favorable flight he might go home. If not, he’d stay at a hotel near the airport.

  The two flights he would accept were booked sold and he had no desire stand around to try for a cancellation. He directed the driver to whatever Holiday Inn was easiest to get to. The familiar green script came into view on the side of a tall building in about a half hour.

  The check in was easy. He had a key card and turned to the elevators because the room was on the ninth floor. He obviously had no need for help with one small soft bag.

  Half way across the lobby a short stout gentleman in a cheap suit jerked all over like he was shocked and looked up at David. He propelled himself out of the lobby chair and stalked up to David blocking his path to the elevators. It was surprising the floor didn’t shake with his stomps.

  “What you think you’re doing moke?” the fellow asked, obviously incensed.

  “Going to my room, if I wanted company it certainly wouldn’t be you.”

  “We got no notice some other family’s sending somebody through our territory. You got no business here, this is not only McDonnell territory this is the Man’s business too. You gotta lot of nerve showing your face. You glow so bright you light up the whole room. Think you’re hot stuff, don’t you?”

  The man’s face was a little odd in the false colors, but n
othing so striking David would have noticed him in a crowd. Everybody had odd colors, but on his hand was an elaborate M in false colors.

  “I don’t know what arrangement you have between families. I don’t know any families except the McDonnells to which you just introduced me. I’m my own family and I don’t let anybody bully me around and tell me where to go. Now kindly go away before I call the police.”

  “That’s rich. McDonnell owns the cops here. You’ll come talk to my boss,” he said and reached for David’s arm.

  David knocked the hand aside casually producing a flash of astonishment on the man’s face. He followed through with the motion to deflect the hand and brought it back as a backhand slap, leaning into it hard. It caught the fellow solid and completely off guard, knocking him to his butt so hard his legs came up and he almost rolled over backwards.

  The man had all the delicate grace of a Jersey cow, built like a lawn gnome, so it was a shock when he did a kip up like a thirteen year old gymnast.

  The anger on his face was now rage and some false colors David hadn’t sampled yet. He reached out like he was grasping something and pulled his hand back to him drawing a gold spike in the air as long as his forearm.

  The analytical part of his brain, still functioning, concluded that was the sword part of the sword and shield the fellow at the rest stop hadn’t shown him. The part of his brain dealing with the immediate problem of staying alive saw the man was done talking and intended to gut him like a hog.

  He was only two steps away and fast. He was one step away when David grabbed as much heat as he could from the room and pushed it to a point in the middle of the man’s head. It exploded. Not in pieces, but the steam blew his brains out of his ears and eye sockets and it was a mess. David stepped aside like a matador letting a dead bull stumble past on momentum. He looked down in distaste at his jacket. He’d never wear it again no matter how it was cleaned. He took it off, used the inside to wipe something disgusting off his left hand and threw it on the floor.

  Taking his jacket off made David aware the whole room, already cool from air conditioning, felt as cold as a walk in fridge from sucking the heat from the air. It would take awhile for the steaming pile of meat on the floor to return to room temperature

  David might have been better off to do the opposite and move the heat out of the man’s head, if the fellow had only given him time to think about it. He stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. He couldn’t just proceed to his room. Neither did it seem feasible to just walk out the door and go away. He was already checked in to his room. Six uniformed police came through the lobby doors and resolved it for him. He was going with them. They all had their weapons in their hands and after seeing the goon on the floor looked terrified. David was sure the slightest twitch would make them all start shooting.

  He’d do what Crenshaw had just advised him to do at lunch and go with them quietly. David still suspected Crenshaw would be irritated with him.

  * * *

  They took everything in his pockets and nobody seemed to react to the unusual nature of the sign in his pocket or the rocks. The clerk looked at the sign and asked, “Amish?”

  “Not personally, no. It’s a coaster,” David said. “I drink a lot and it’s handy.”

  He didn’t ask about the rocks, but held them in a pile in his hand and looked a question at David.

  “Enchanted rocks,” David said truthfully, just for the hell of it.

  “You see every damn thing in this business” the man said, dropping them in the envelope.

  The cuffs he could understand, but the waist chain and ankle hobbles seemed like a little overkill to David. He’d come as meekly as it was possible to be. He’d just said yes, or moved as directed from the lobby until he was chained to a steel chair in this interrogation room.

  When two men came in to question him they were in civilian clothing. He assumed they were detectives, but they didn’t give him the courtesy of identifying themselves. David understood why. They were in a position of power and he was helpless. That was undoubtedly what they were used to. It seemed to remove any necessity in their minds of treating him with courtesy. He wondered how long one had to work with such power before it started altering your personality? Assuming they once had a mother who taught them any social graces.

  When they started asking questions David stated he would not speak without his attorney. He had to repeat it eight times before they seemed to believe he meant it and it just irritated him.

  “You have your attorney’s phone number memorized. That says a lot about you, you know?” the thinner cop said.

  “I had lunch with him today,” David said. “It refreshed my memory.” That and repeating Mrs. Ayers’ formula for encouraging one’s memory before lunch. He could write a transcript if need be.

  The thin one frowned and pulled a pack of cigarettes out.

  “I’d rather you didn’t smoke in the same room with me,” David said.

  “Listen to this,” the heavier cop said. “Do you think he’s challenged enough to ninety-six him?”

  “He sounds squirrely as hell to me. It would let us hand him off to somebody else to deal with after he is released,” He looked at David hard. “Assuming he ever gets released.”

  David realized they were threatening him with commitment to a mental institution. The thin cop was getting agitated because he kept trying to light his cigarette and David kept sucking the heat away. It wouldn’t light and after the first few tries he couldn’t get a flame from the lighter either. He looked at David with sudden understanding, but wouldn’t say anything.

  “Maybe you should go take a piss and let me talk to our buddy here,” the thin one suggested.

  David took that to mean he wanted a chance to smack David around in private.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” David said pleasantly.

  “Why not?” Thin man demanded, but with less aggression than before.

  “It’s not safe. What if you had a heart attack while your partner was away? I’m chained here and couldn’t help. I don’t see any one way mirror to indicate somebody is watching. Do you have cameras? It seems a terrible chancy way to do things. I’m surprised there aren’t rules against it.”

  The flash of emotion on their faces was telling. It obviously was against regulations. David was thinking over all the ways he could remove these chains if the poor officers happened to fall dead. It would be awkward. He wondered of a coroner could tell a heart had been frozen solid later inside an otherwise untouched body? Crenshaw would be really irritated with him.

  The difficult choices were removed, because a young woman entered the room and informed the cops she would question him. They obviously both knew her and deferred to her, quickly clearing the room with no back talk.

  She sat down, slapping a portfolio down and looked at David disgusted. Her eyes went to his hands, barely able to reach the edge of the table because of the chain running to his waist. He saw the eyes shift hand to hand and realized she was looking for a mark on his hand like the goon wore. Sure enough she had a fancy M brand on her hand too.

  “Oh, you have an ownership brand,” he guessed, trying to throw her off balance. “The goon who intended to kill me had one too. I didn’t think to look and see if went away when he died or remained.

  “It vanishes, I’m sure you know. Why don’t you have one? I see all kinds of strange signs about you that don’t make any sense. You aren’t a master, that’s clear,” She insisted. “No maverick has any power to do what you did.” All that created more questions than it answered for David.

  “I’m not cattle,” David said, with a smile that was insulting on purpose. “Would you like that ugly thing removed? I’m not sure I could do it with any subtlety, but it should burn off fine.” He directed just enough heat to her hand it started to feel warm. She snatched it back and for a second David thought she was going to flee the room.

  “Your face says you aren’t scared,” she snarled. “Nobody lies
that well. What are you?”

  “I’m irritated. What are you? You come in here full of assumptions and don’t even give me the courtesy of an introduction. Those two detectives didn’t bother to name themselves either. What is your authority?” David asked. “Where is my lawyer? I refuse to answer questions without him present.”

  “I’m Sarah Oran, Assistant DA for the City. I think you know from where my power comes. You’re awfully brave for a man chained to a chair.”

  “Something I’ve learned recently, is things aren’t always the way they seem.” He focused his attention on one link of the chain linking his cuffs. He didn’t heat it but chilled it hard until frost started to grow not only on it but the links touching it. A sharp snap shattered it like glass, with a distinct >ping<. He reached up and scratched his nose, like that was his only intent.

  This time she didn’t look like she wanted to run, she actually pushed back from the table.

  “Run away if you think it will do any good,” he invited. One thing he was sure about was this woman was no threat to him. If she had any way to deal with him she’d have been directing some of that obvious anger at him, not struggling to keep from running in terror.

  “I’d be killed, or disciplined for failure, which would be worse.”

  “Sucks to have a boss like that,” he agreed.

  She looked at him like he was crazy.

  “The cops thought about putting me in the booby hatch too,” he told her.

  “Are you a mind reader too?” she asked.

  “Not a very good one I’m afraid. I really need more training. I’m growing less sure all the time I want to know what people are thinking. They really seem better at emoting than thinking. If you won’t let me call my attorney so I can answer relevant questions, not chat about things in general and you don’t intend to charge me with a crime, perhaps you should let me go. I’m really being very polite about being held for no discernible reason anybody has been able to articulate.”