A Village Voice

by Brian Martin

  “Well, let me say first that there is nothing wrong with the structure as such, but banks these days are scared stiff about the RICO laws. If they feel that there might be any possibility of a company’s assets being seized as part of an investigation, they will find a way to decline any loan requests and there goes your seasonal line of credit for working capital. That’s going to be inconvenient and costly.”

  He was on a roll so he continued with ways to save them money.

  “Also, currently you are paying too much interest and too much in fees to the bank. If I were your relationship manager, I would put your line of credit on what’s called a sweep so that as funds come in they are used to pay down the line of credit first, so that your balances are lower and you pay less interest. You are also being overcharged for the treasury products you are using.”

  Tarantino looking annoyed, he seemed like he wanted to say something, so Brian took a breath and paused.

  “Get back to the structure thing, what your recommendations are, how you found out about the existing structure and how we can rely on your discretion,” said Tarantino.

  “Well first, sir, I would recommend that the current shareholders form holding companies to hold their shares and not have the shares in their own name. Second, I think you need someone as your relationship manager, who has a better understanding of how things work. Your current guy was born and raised in Darien Connecticut and went to Cornell, need I say more?” Finally, he got what passed as a smile from Tarantino.

  “As to how I got hold of the corporate structure, I would change your accountants. Stern overcharges for your audit and his people are sloppy. I was up there on bank business and all the files are just lying around. It was easy to make a copy. You should use Fitzgerald and Sons. I could get you a discount and the accountants there are mostly neighborhood kids. They understand the importance of keeping client information confidential.”

  At the mention of Fitzgerald’s, Morgenstern had commented ‘more Micks’ and mopped his brow with a tissue from a box he keep on his desk.

  Tarantino sat back in his chair and went back to staring. In order to break the silence, Brian was about to do a recap of his value proposition and sales pitch to be a relationship manager for this company and maybe other companies where he could provide similar services, when there was the sound of squeaking wheels from just outside the door and a soft knock. Morgenstern looked like a deer caught in the headlights, Tarantino turned his stare to Morgenstern and raised his eyebrows in the classic New York, What the fuck now expression. A very attractive Puerto Rican looking young lady came in pushing an old fashioned trolley with a large coffee pot and cups.

  “I saw the light on and I thought you guys might want coffee before I go.”

  Morgenstern was rising from his chair to protest the intrusion, and although he was clearly annoyed, he couldn’t help but pause to check out the figure of the young woman pulling in the trolley. She had on a tight red skirt and she was bending over the trolley to bring it in behind her. The office was not that large and she ended up beside Morgenstern in the corner with the trolley beside his desk.

  “For God’s sake, Dolores, this is a private meeting, I thought you had gone home.”

  “Hey, I forgot my purse, came back and saw lights on, figured you were working late and thought you might like some coffee. Excuse me for trying to be thoughtful.”

  Brian remembered looking to see if she brought two pots in the hope that she had made some decaf. He couldn’t drink coffee in the evening, it kept him up all night.

  Tarantino was busy checking out Dolores as she bent low to the coffee pot, Morgenstern was trying to gauge his reaction and trying to decide whether to be mad or to make light of the whole thing. Before he could make up his mind, Dolores bent over, reached under a napkin and came up in a two handed stance with the largest revolver Brian had ever seen. She fired once and hit Tarantino in the head, knocking him clear out of his chair. It seemed as if a large part of his skull had come away. Brian imagined that only the most highly trained of people could react when something as violent and unexpected as that happened right beside them. The rest of the human race simply freezes, so when Dolores shouted, “Freeze, don’t fucking move,” it was really not necessary at all.

  “It’s over,” she shouted, “it’s over! If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. It’s over, this was business. When the police come you tell them you were having a meeting, and a guy with a black ski mask walked in and fired one shot and left. Medium height and build, dressed all in black, he said nothing, just picked his target and fired. You are going to count to one thousand and then call the police and ambulance. You,” she said pointing to Brian, “go sit on the floor in that corner and put your hands over your head and lock your fingers. You,” she said, pointing to Morgenstern, “hands over your head, same thing. You know I should fucking kill you, you creepy bastard, but it’s not what they want. Before I go, I want you to feel what it’s like to be scared and humiliated, and maybe you will think twice before abusing some poor girl out there.”

  Brian had taken up position on the floor in the corner. Dolores looked over at him and reminded him not to fucking move and that she wasn’t going to hurt anyone. As if he would make some rash move to save Morgenstern. He was very happy in the corner, he had his hands locked over his head and he was staring at his knees. He did have the presence of mind not to stare at her and to make sure she could see that he was not staring at her. He was not highly trained in these situations, but he was not stupid either. Most New Yorkers think fast and catch on even faster. She moved over to Morgenstern’s chair and Brian glanced up under his eyebrows while still keeping his head down.

  Morgenstern had his hands behind his head as instructed. It seemed like he was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out.

  “You fat bastard, yeah, go ahead and open your mouth, open wide.” Morgenstern shook his head and she screamed at him, “Open wide, you bastard.” He finally complied, he was pale and shaking like a leaf as he opened his mouth.

  She said, “That’s right, open your mouth and close your eyes, I’ve got for you a big surprise.” She put the gun in Morgenstern’s mouth and screamed at him to suck it. Brian heard her say, “How does that feel, you sick fuck,” and then another explosion, and this time the whole back of Morgenstern’s head seemed to end up on the wall behind him. Brian buried his head in his knees and said a quick prayer. He kept thinking no witnesses, no witnesses, Jim sent a crazy person and she is going to kill everyone.

  Then he heard a very calm voice say,

  “You can get up now. Help me move this trolley, we need to get out of here.”

  He tried to get up, but he was frozen, expecting the cannon to go off again.

  “Oh, what the fuck,” she said. “We haven’t got time for this shit, get up and move unless you want to be here when the police arrive.”

  He managed to get to his feet and actually helped move the trolley out of the office. Dolores had a quick look around, got Morgenstern’s hand print on the gun, then left it on the floor near his chair.

  “Look at me,” she said. “Have you got everything, you didn’t leave anything behind?”

  “Wait here, don’t move, it’s okay, it went perfect. Wait right here, don’t be sick or nothing, I hate that and we would have to clean it up. Just wait here, I’m putting the trolley and the cups back in the other room, and then we’re leaving together.”

  Brian stood frozen again, his mind was racing, should he stay as requested or run and keep on running? Surely Uncle Jim wouldn’t want anything to happen to him and this woman who had seemed insane was speaking to him in a calm and rational tone of voice, almost as if she had been playing a part earlier. An actor in Uncle Jim’s production. Before he could contemplate further, Dolores was back at his side.

  “Alright, we are going out together and we are going to walk to my apartment. It’s not far. You’ll spend a few minutes there and then get the train hom
e.”

  “I’ll explain more as we walk along. Give me your arm like we’re old-fashioned lovers.”

  They walked out into the alley and on to the street arm in arm. To be honest, he was glad of her arm and glad that he was being led somewhere, anywhere. That someone was in charge and seemed to know what they were doing.

  His hands and feet were cold and he felt light headed. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, it was like a nightmare. He just wanted to wake up at home in bed. Full credit to Dolores, she kept him moving and she made every effort to distract him.

  “You’re doing great, kid. Just keep moving. Where are you from by the way, you sound like a native New Yorker?”

  “What? Me? I was born and raised in the Village.”

  “Yeah, sounds cool. Was it a good place to grow up?”

  “Yeah, it was okay. Listen, I wasn’t expecting all that.”

  “All what? We’re just two people strolling back arm in arm to my apartment. You went to a meeting and I served coffee. Your meeting lasted about thirty minutes. We met again on your way out. We got to chatting and you offered to walk me home. When we got to my apartment, you came up for a drink. One thing led to another and then you left about an hour later and went home. You don’t really want to discuss the evening with anyone because of what happened between us.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, they tell me you’re a smart kid. We meet, you walk me home, you come up to my apartment, nature takes its course and you go home. You don’t want to talk about this evening because you’re embarrassed and you don’t want your wife to find out about what you did. So, as far as anyone is concerned, you worked late and stopped for a drink and went home. When do you go to the dry cleaners?”

  “Every week, Saturday morning usually.”

  “Make sure you go this Saturday, take that suit in and make sure everything you’re wearing goes in the laundry as soon as possible without making it too obvious.”

  “Listen, back there, did I have to be there when it happened?”

  “I saw you when you came in and you saw me. You weren’t supposed to see me. You were supposed to leave and then I would bring coffee. Because you saw me, you needed to be a part of this. In case your conscience bothered you later on.”

  “But I didn’t see you when I came in, it was dark, I didn’t see anybody. I didn’t have to be there.”

  “Whatever. You were there because you had a meeting and you are here now because, let’s face it, I’m pretty irresistible, right?”

  “Okay, okay, I understand. You want me to shut up about it and just make small talk. Where are you from, Miss Irresistible?”

  “Chicago.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Al Capone was my great uncle. No shit.”

  “And your mom was the Empress of China?”

  “How did you know?”

  Dolores was an amazing professional. He was actually beginning to believe that nothing bad had happened. He believed it because she was there and she told him. He believed because he wanted to believe. He believed in the same way you believe when your parents tell you to stop being silly and that there are not any witches under your bed. Stop thinking about it, he told himself, because it did not happen, it was your imagination, it was not real. You are a gallant, young gentleman escorting an attractive young lady home.

  As promised, it was a short walk to her apartment. It was an old building, dark and neglected looking. They walked up three flights of stairs and she let go of his arm to take out her keys. He hesitated for a second before he followed her in. He was a witness, the only witness that saw her do that thing that did not happen. She was clearly a professional, a witness was a very untidy thing to leave walking around. But surely, if she was going to harm him she would have let him have it back there and after all, this was Uncle Jim’s show and he wouldn’t want anything to happen to him. Would he?

  She noticed his hesitation and turned on the lights.

  “Come on in, no one here but us chickens. Just come in and have a drink, sit for a while and then you can be on your way.”

  The door opened up into the living room, sofa against the wall, an easy chair and a TV over by the window, a hall with a doorway (probably a bathroom). Brian moved in cautiously. The hall led down to a small kitchen with another door off to the side (probably the bedroom).

  “Come on, take your coat off and park yourself on the couch. I’ll fix us a drink. I got vodka or vodka.”

  “Vodka is fine,” he replied.

  “I got Seven-Up or cranberry juice. Straight vodka is just nasty but some people like it that way.”

  “Cranberry juice would be great, thanks.”

  “Ah, the sophisticated choice, I figured you would go for that.”

  Brian looked around while she went down to the kitchen to fix the drinks. He looked first at the floor to see if it was covered in plastic sheeting. It was old linoleum and a rug. Reassured, he scanned the room looking for photographs of friends or family, something homey, something to reassure him further. Someone would hardly commit murder in front of the family photographs. Maybe she had photographs of people who were not her relatives at all just to lull him into a false sense of security. He should have watched her pour the drinks, God knows what she was putting in there. To break the tension, he asked,

  “Is there a Mister Irresistible, Dolores and if so, is he expected home anytime soon? I’ve had a kind of a rough day and this might look bad and I don’t know if I could explain?”

  She came back, drinks in hand, with a big grin on her face. Vodka and Seven Up for her and vodka and cranberry juice for the sophisticate.

  “No, no Mister anybody. Did you think I would invite you up here if I were a married lady? What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  He accepted his drink and decided to take a good slug. If it was poison he hoped it would be fast acting. She didn’t seem cruel or vindictive, just efficient, and she mentioned that she didn’t like to see people vomit. So maybe it was the kind poison that just puts you to sleep. Not such a bad way to go, he thought.

  “Sláinte,” he said and clinked her glass.

  “Salud,” she replied.

  She had taken off her coat and was sitting on the sofa beside him. As he had first noticed, she was a very attractive woman with a sensational figure. In order to kill time and take his mind off what hadn’t happened, he decided to try being charming and flirt a little bit.

  “Say listen, I don’t want to be forward or anything, but didn’t you say that after we came up here, how did you put it, nature took its course?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Well, I was just thinking. That we need to be authentic about things so we can have the story straight.”

  Now she was laughing.

  “I know what you’re thinking with and it’s not the big head. How like a man. Really? You really think that I am going to do it with you just like that? Right here and now?”

  “Well, I was just thinking about the authenticity of our story. What if I’m asked questions later on? I don’t even know what you look like without your clothes on.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what happened. You got up here and were so overcome by passion that you came up behind me and took me with my clothes on.”

  “Not realistic at all. Just not me. Even if I had done that I would have taken you down to the bedroom afterward and done things properly the second time. There is just no way I would not have seen your breasts.”

  She was shaking her head now.

  “I must be out of my mind,” she said. “Stay sitting right there.”

  She stood up and moved over behind the chair. She took off her blouse and then undid her bra.

  “Now,” she said, “take a good look and make sure you can describe them.”

  This was all too much for him. Afterward, he could pretend that nothing had happened, just like the nothing that had happened earlier, so he left the sofa and came around be
hind her. She was in the middle of saying ‘really bad idea’ when he kissed her. They made love right there and later again in the bedroom just as the script had called for. Or at least that was what he was imagining. What actually happened was that she put back on her blouse and told him to finish his drink and get ready to walk to the Port Authority.

  The walk back was terrible. Having Dolores with him was a great distraction, on his own Brian kept replaying events in his head. He was not a violent person, not a real tough guy at all. He grew up around plenty of them, he could sound like them, he thought he understood them, but he wasn’t one of them. Except for the occasional school yard brawl, he had never intentionally hurt anyone. He had never even seen an act of real violence. He had never bullied anyone or taken their lunch money. In fact, he would have been the victim on more than one occasion if someone had not recognized him and mentioned his older cousins. He was the studious guy who avoided trouble. His dad made it clear that if he caused trouble he was going to be sent to military school where they would soon sort him out. God had blessed him with brains and he was going to college to make something of himself and that was that. No trouble, no violence, and now this. Brains and blood everywhere, two human beings dead. He stopped in an alley and threw up into a trash can.

  Chapter Twelve

  New Jersey, New York, 1987

  When Brian got home, Noreen was already in bed; she had fallen asleep while reading a book. He took the book from her hands and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She woke up for a moment and said “hi,” turned over and went back to sleep. He took a shower, slipped into bed, and stared at the ceiling until it was time to get up.

  The morning started well with the news on the radio. Brian went in to work in a surprisingly good mood considering all that had happened and that he hadn’t really slept. At lunch time, he was actually pretty hungry so he went over to Sal’s for a meatball sub. He brought the Wall Street Journal with him (even his department got a free copy). Sal’s was small and didn’t have much seating, but it was early enough and he was lucky and found an unoccupied table in the back corner.