by Paul Neuhaus
“We know that, but the cops don’t.”
“Look, I’m not gonna call the cops.”
“I know you’re not.” And, with that, he dropped his hands to his sides, balling them into fists, and approached me. I was starting to really hate this case. It had more than its fair share of trouncings. I put up my fists, knowing they wouldn’t be effective, and prepared for the worst.
Right then, the back door of Pepe Bell opened, and a head popped out. The head said, “Ar’ the food’s getting cold. Are you gonna—?” The head saw me and said, “Oh, hi!” The head belonged to Tad Albright.
I wasted no time at all. I shouted toward the action star, past the angry Armenian. “Tad! Tad Albright! I’ve been looking for you! I really, really need to talk to you about Randall Dunphey!”
Albright blinked at me. “About Randy? Sure, c’mon in.” He opened the door wide and held it for me. As I walked by him, Arsen dropped his fists, the very portrait of interrupted rage.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
Pepe Bell wasn’t bad for a twice-defunct, now-abandoned eatery. It was clean, there was nice overhead lighting, and the tables were still in place. The boarded-up windows kept out the curious. Spread on one table was the ethnic feast prepared by Arsen’s grandmother.
Arsen came in behind me, complaining. “This isn’t a good idea, Tad. It’s a complication we don’t need.”
“Nonsense,” Tad said. “He knows Randy. Randy Dunphey.” The star caught himself, laughing. “Look at me saying, ‘Randy. Randy Dunphey’ to you like you know who Randy Dunphey is. You don’t know who Randy Dunphey is.” He turned to me. “Are you hungry? You want food? We have tons.”
That too struck me funny. I couldn’t imagine Kohar—who’d smashed my balls but good—would be happy with me eating her food. “No thanks,” I said. “I had a sandwich on the train.” Tad sat down and I sat across from him. “Look, before you dig in, there’s something I gotta tell you...”
He nodded, filling his plate anyway. “Right. About Randy.”
Arsen came over and sat down on the same side as Albright. Sulking, he took a plate of food. At least he didn’t try to inject himself into the conversation.
Tad seemed like a nice guy, but he had focus problems. He looked into my eyes. “Hey, you’ve got an intensity thing going,” he said. Then he turned to Gasparyan and said, “This guy’s got an intensity thing going.” Then he turned back to me and said, “It’s an acting thing. I can always spot it. I’m good that way.” He examined my face. Front, then each profile. “Have you ever done any acting? I think you could do some acting. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’ll never be a Brando, but you’d be a good film actor. A lotta people think it’s something you gotta train and train for, but I don’t think that. I think eighty percent of it’s innate. It’s something people are born with. Or they grow into. I don’t even have a term for it. I just call it ‘The Thing’. I think you got The Thing.”
“Look, I’m flattered, but—“
“Seriously. Come down to the set. We could get you a screen test. I could work with you. There’s not that much to it. You could—“
“Tad, Noah’s dead.”
That stopped him short—which was good because I was thinking he was a well-meaning automaton, obsessed with making a good impression regardless of circumstance. “Noah’s—?”
“I’m sorry. Yes, he’s dead. Murdered. Randy hired me to find you. I was working the case. I was talking to Noah when it happened.”
Albright sank down into his chair, deflated. “You were there?”
“Yes, although the killer didn’t realize he’d have a witness. I saw the whole thing. It was Liam O'Connor. He shot Noah. He also tried to kill Noah’s sister Nikki. He also kidnapped me. Planned to kill me and my girlfriend. I put out his eye. Fortunately, he’s in custody last I heard. Him and Patrick Dankworth.”
No one spoke for a whole minute. Both Arsen and myself gave Albright some breathing room. Finally, the movie star said, “Wow. I— That’s a helluva lot to take in. A helluva lot. Liam O'Connor killed Noah?”
“Yessir. Do you know why he would do that?”
Tad looked like someone had just punched him in the solar plexus. He was goggle-eyed. He shrugged. “I can guess. I mean the math’s easy. Since you were talking to Noah, you know I’m not entirely straight...”
I smiled at him. “That’s not the term your ex-wife used.”
He blinked twice. “Scarlett? You talked to Scarlett? She would say something like that, wouldn’t she?” He paused, sizing me up. “Did you fuck her?”
It was my turn to be goggle-eyed. “I— I mean, I—“
The actor gave me a thin smile. “It’s okay. Scarlett fucks everybody. It’s her way.” He paused again, gathering his thoughts. Before he started in again, he said, “Noah,” and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to deal with the full impact of his boyfriend’s death. He’d have to file it away and deal with it later. That’s life, isn’t it? “The Concordance… isn’t keen on homosexuality. They’ve done everything they can to keep mine out of the press. It’s been a blessing and a curse. I haven’t been who I am most of the time, but I’m sure the secrecy has helped my career. But this… Noah. It’s just so extreme measure. I almost can’t believe it. Patrick and me… we were friends. Good friends for years. Then again… Patrick hasn’t been himself.” He took a breath. “Did... Did Noah suffer?”
“No, sir. In fact... Well, I don’t think he felt anything at all.”
“That’s—That’s good, I guess,” he said, sounding like he didn’t know if he believed it.
“Look, Tad, I think maybe it’s time for you to come back. Because of Noah, and because of Randall Dunphey. I realize it’s a shit storm for you but I was told you’re not the kind of guy that’d leave Dunphey to twist in the wind. Or the studio.”
He nodded, the gears in his head struggling to keep up. “No, no. You’re right. We should go back.”
Arsen’s tone when he spoke was whiny, like a kid suddenly faced with not getting something he wanted. “But what about my thing?”
I wasn’t happy with the complication, but I couldn’t help but be curious. “What is your thing, anyway? I’ve been wondering that all this time.”
He looked at Tad, seemingly afraid to broach his own concern. Albright nodded to him like a parent saying, ‘Go ahead. It’s okay’. “They’ve got my lady,” Gasparyan said.
I flashed back to what Mrs. Yousefian had said to me. About Arsen being seen with a blond. “Your lady? The shiksa?”
“‘Shiksa’? What’s a shiksa?”
“Jewish term. Means non-Jewish; usually WASPy.”
“Um, yeah. I guess. If you’re talking about Helen.”
Helen! Helen Dankworth! Of course. It only made sense that piece would slot into the puzzle somewhere. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to Evelyn. “That’s right,” I said. “Helen Dankworth is missing.”
Gasparyan nodded. “She’s not just missing. She’s missing because of me. Her husband—the piece of shit—got wind and hid her away.”
“Hid her away in the desert?”
The Armenian nodded. “Destiny Base, they call it. It’s a fortress.”
“He’s right,” Albright interjected. “I’ve been there. The US military’s got nothing on Destiny Base.”
“I heard it’s where they keep disciplinary cases...”
Tad looked embarrassed but said nothing.
“So, right here in America, a guy can literally imprison his wife for having an affair. And these are the guys you run with?”
The actor flushed red at that point. “Look, I never claimed the Aetheric Concordance didn’t have issues.”
I laughed at him without meaning to. “That’s some fucked up shit right there. ‘Issues’ you say? You don’t see the Methodists locking their wives away in a prison camp. Not usually, anyway.”
Tad looked humbled and offered no defense. Instead, he said, “Look, Arsen is ri
ght. I came with him willingly—so there’s no kidnapping charge, if that’s what you were thinking.”
I shrugged. “I’m not a cop. Collars don’t score me points. I just want to get this sorted out.”
Albright nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what I’m getting at. Is there any way we can solve Randall’s problem and Arsen’s problem at the same time?”
I closed my eyes and massaged the bridge of my nose. “Just so we’re clear: You went with Arsen so he could pretend to kidnap you in exchange for getting Helen out of jail?” I opened my eyes and the two men, both looking like children this time, nodded. “I gotta say: This isn’t the world’s most thought-out plan. Did you get in touch with Dankworth to make your… let’s call them ‘demands’?”
“I did, yes,” Gasparyan replied.
“And?”
“He said he’d get back to me.”
I looked at Albright. “In the meantime, with you out of circulation, he’s been trying to tidy up your private life.”
“I guess. Did you say you put out Liam O'Connor’s eye?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, trying to get the cards on the table into their proper order. “Right now we’re in a holding pattern. Is that right? You’re just waiting for Patrick to meet your demands?”
The two guys across the table from me looked at one another, looked back at me, and nodded.
“You’re wasting your time.”
They started to speak over one another. Arsen won out. “Wasting out time? What do you mean wasting our time?”
“What does it mean usually when someone says, ‘I’ll get back to you’?”
They looked at me blankly.
“C’mon. Do you need help with this one?”
“‘Fuck you’,” Tad said. “They mean ‘fuck you’.”
“Bingo. I mean, you know Patrick. Is he the type that says’ ‘fuck you’ with any kind of regularity?”
Albright nodded as the truth of what I was saying sank in. “Yes. He says it both early and often.”
“There you go. He’s calling your bluff. He doesn’t think Arsen will kill you—which, you know, he’s right about. Why would he surrender Helen when he knows you’re gonna be back on the street any time now? When he knows Arsen will give up and turn you loose? It’s what I’d do if I was in his shoes.”
The movie star looked at the gangster. “That sounds right to me.”
“What’re we gonna do?” Arsen said.
“We can get the cops on the Helen thing,” I said. “Last time I checked kidnapping and imprisonment were illegal.”
Tad’s voice lowered, showing his lack of confidence in my plan. “They’re illegal in America, but I’d almost call Destiny Base a sovereign nation.”
“Oh, come on...”
“No, I’m being serious. Not because of any arrangements between the Concordance and the US government obviously, but because of the Concordance’s legal eagles. They can obfuscate and logjam things like nobody’s business. Helen could be an old woman before she steps outside that fence again.”
This was some wacky shit, and it was working my nerves. “Okay, how about this? What if we return Tad to the civilized world and let him get back to work? With that case solved, I can jump over to Arsen and do what I can to get Helen Dankworth out of God’s Gulag.”
“Look, I don’t want Randall’s paying your bill. Not on my account. I’ll pay you.” Albright turned from me to Gasparyan. “From there, I can just keep the payroll train running. I can fund Mr. Huggins while he does what he can for Helen.”
Men behaving childishly cemented itself as the theme for the encounter. “But you promised,” Arsen said.
“I know I promised, but we’ve gotten ourselves into a Catch-22. I was—“
“Do you even think he can do it? Get Helen out?”
Albright flicked his eyes at me and gave in to the inescapable truth. “Do I think he can get Helen out? No, I don’t guess he can.” He gave me his full attention. “No offense,” he said.
I put up my hands in a gesture of no harm, no foul. “None taken,”
“Then we’re really, really stuck,” Gasparyan said. “I don’t even see how we can—“
A loud knock on the back door interrupted him.
We all looked at one another, but mostly it was me and Tad looking at Arsen. It was his venue. The powerfully built little man sighed and got up. As he walked to the back door, I went over in my mind who it could be. It could be Dennis Hill with the FBI. I didn’t think it was that one, though. He told me he’d give me breathing room, and I trusted him. It could be Arsen’s buddies from the gang, but that one didn’t seem likely either. Albright’s “kidnapping” had been a personal project of Arsen’s and the other Armenians probably wouldn’t have been interested even if he’d told them about it. He was working the angle for romance, not money. The most likely source for the knock, near as I could figure, was the Concordance. Dankworth would be spoiling for a rematch, and if O'Connor was up and around (and sporting an eyepatch) he’d really be spoiling for a rematch.
For better or worse, it wasn’t any of those people. Arsen opened the door, and I recognized the voice of the person on the other side right away. Tad did too. “Evelyn?” we said in comic harmony. Both of us got up and went to the back of Pepe Bell. Both of us reached a hand around Gasparyan and drew in the crazy Goth girl. Me and Albright realized it would be bad news to have such a loose cannon hanging around in the parking lot of the defunct restaurant.
“Oh, good,” Evelyn said. “You’re both here. I had a feeling.”
Arsen got the idea and shut the door behind Helen’s sister. He looked Evelyn up and down with more than casual interest.
“Evelyn,” I said. “Fer crissakes. Does Randall know you’re here?”
That got her back up. “Randy doesn’t own me. If anything, I wear the pants in the relationship.”
“Did you come all the way out here to talk about your dissatisfaction with the patriarchy?”
The girl raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “No, we don’t have that kind of time.”
“Evelyn...” Tad said. “It’s nice to see you. How’s Randall?”
“He’s freaking out. I’m assuming Jack told you.”
Again Tad affected his guilty pose. “Yeah, he told me. We’re in the middle of hashing out how to fix it. We just—“
Arsen Gasparyan cut off the movie star. “Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?! Who is this person?!”
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “This is Evelyn. Helen’s sister.”
Arsen shook his head at this new, bizarre piece of information. “I didn’t know Helen had a sister.”
“Yeah,” Evelyn said, holding out her hand to shake. “She doesn’t like me very much.”
The Armenian shook the Goth’s hand. He was still on overload.
“You’d think her not liking me would factor into whether I cared about her being in a desert hoosegow, but there you go. Even though we hated each other as kids, I’d still rather she not be held prisoner by a cult.” She looked at Albright. “No offense.”
“None taken. I mean I still have some love for the... cult, but I’d rather we not imprison people.”
“Good call,” I said to him.
“Thanks,” he replied. “I’d rather it wasn’t such an obvious moral stance so I could claim more credit.”
“Baby steps,” I replied. I turned to Randall’s girlfriend. “What the hell’re you doing here? Remember when I dumped you at the gas station and told you to take a chill pill?”
“I remember,” she said. “You don’t own me either.”
“Clearly, but I’m just trying to keep you out from underfoot. This turning into an increasingly dicey situation.”
“You wanted to keep me out of harm’s way? Why, so the big, smart men can handle this? Are you handling it? Tell me what your plan is.”
To be fair, she was catching us early. All three of us said, “um...” and loo
ked away.
“That’s what I thought,” Evelyn replied with a black-lipped grin. She’d gone back to her signature lipstick. “You don’t have dick, do you? Hey, is that food?” Without waiting for an answer, she went back to the table where Kaspar’s home cooking was arrayed. Without waiting for permission, she dug in.
Resigned, the three of us menfolk joined her. We seated ourselves as before with Evelyn and I on one side of the table and Tad and Arsen on the other.
“God,” Evelyn said, chewing. “This is dynamite. What is this?”
“Dzash,” Gasparyan replied, still bemused. “Armenian stew.”
“Did you cook this? Because if you cooked this, I want to marry you.”
Arsen smiled, moved by the girl’s enthusiasm. “I wish,” he said. “My grandmother cooked it.”
Evelyn nodded and chewed. “That fits. A kindly old grandmother.”
I remembered the crushing my nuts had taken at Kaspar’s hands. “Yeah, about that...” They all looked at me expecting me to finish the thought, but I let it go.
“Okay, well, I’m here now,” the girl said. “Let’s make a plan.”
“Do you have any new information? Since I saw you last?” I said to her.
Her mouth was full, so she started by shaking her head. “I have no new information. But that doesn’t mean anything. You’re not benching me. I’m not the kind to stay on the bench.”
“You don’t say…”
The girl looked at all three of us. “C’mon,” she said. “Where are we? Give me a breakdown of what you have so far.”
Neither Tad nor Arsen seemed keen on catching her up, so I dove in. I told her we were stuck. That Tad had promised Arsen he’d help get Helen back by pretending to be kidnapped, but Patrick Dankworth hadn’t given a shit because he knew Arsen would return Tad unharmed. Dankworth held all the cards because he knew we were bluffing and he had a desert prison not even Federal law enforcement was willing to try to breach. I told Evelyn the most likely course seemed to be to get Albright back to work to get Randall off the hook, and to take a different tack with the Helen situation.
“Uh-uh,” Evelyn said. “That’s unacceptable. Any plan that doesn’t involve getting my sister back is no bueno.”
