UNDERCOVER The Secret of Luck

by James Kipling

  He came in wading through like an insect with a broken leg.

  “Hey, Sheila. What are you doing here?” he said.

  “I came in, boss, to see what happened to you. Are you alright?” She asked the question with concern. She placed the teapot with water on the gas stove and then added some coffee and sugar. She was preparing coffee just the way he wanted. John noticed this and took a seat next to the refrigerator.

  “I see that you are making coffee. Thanks, Sheila. Very nice of you.” said John.

  “Don’t change the subject, boss. Tell me, what happened to you?” said Sheila, not giving up.

  “Nothing. Everything is fine. I am...just fine.” said John, picking up the coffee that Sheila handed over to him.

  “Boss, I know you. The last time you were late to the office was…never. Seriously, is everything alright?” asked Sheila.

  “Really Sheila, I am fine. Just leave me alone. I will see you in the office in an hour. Just please leave.” said John.

  That was almost a month ago. Now, back in the present, she sat there for a few minutes, looking at her formerly happy boss, all sullen and unhappy. Eventually, she decided to give up and got up. She was just about to pull the office door open and leave the room.

  “Sheila, sorry about not responding.” said Russo, getting up.” Could you get me a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  “Just one minute, boss”, said Sheila. She liked to call him ‘boss’, even though Russo had insisted that she address him with his first name, John. Two minutes later, she returned to the office with two mugs filled with coffee. John rarely asked for her to bring coffee. He usually got it himself. There are times when he did ask her to get him coffee, but those were the times when he wanted to discuss something. Sheila had been expecting something like that for a while. John was now seated at his regular chair, closer to the window. Sheila took the chair that was reserved for clients. As she dropped into the comfortable leather chair, she turned off her cell phone.

  “Do you remember that day, about a month ago?”

  “That day when you were passed out on your sofa. At your place?” said Sheila.

  “Yes, that was the day. You asked me if something was wrong.” said John. He wasn’t really looking into her eyes. He was looking like a small boy confessing to his elder sister about something he denied but now was admitting to his mistake. Sheila did not say anything. She did not wish to interrupt the flow.

  “Do you remember when we started? About eighteen months ago, when we started out. You were just out of college, and I was just starting out. The whole thing was amazing. Both of us were just thrilled to begin our business.” said John. He was sounding like an old guy. A guy much older than his age.

  “I remember, boss. I liked what you were about to do with your job. It sounded pretty exciting. Otherwise, I doubt if I would have taken this job.” said Sheila, nodding along with him.

  John took another sip from his coffee and continued. “That was the thing. I had this idea in my head, and I thought I had everything figured out. I really thought I did. I did all things I was supposed to do. I got this fantastic office, decked it up, made the right connections, and it seemed like we were on a roll. Let me ask you something, Sheila. In the last eighteen months, how many jobs have we taken up?” asked John. His coffee cup was completely empty. He started looking around, for a refill. Sheila noticed this and got up. She returned from the kitchen with another cup of coffee and took her seat. Then, she picked up her tablet from the table and started opening up her document list. She spent a few minutes, while John waited patiently. Then she was done and read out her report.

  “Sixty-three. Sixty three cases from fifty two clients. That is a final tally, boss. If you don’t mind me pointing this out, about sixty of them came to a satisfactory conclusion.” said Sheila, putting her tablet back on the table.

  “I have to admit, we have done a good deal of work. You and I both. Now, tell me something. Of all those cases, how many are related to marital affairs?” asked John.

  Sheila picked up her tablet again. She worked on her spreadsheet, tallying numbers and everything. This time, it took her a little longer than expected. Ten minutes later, she was still working on it, and then finally she put her tablet back on the table. She looked a little pained. She hesitated a little more, and finally spoke her mind out.

  “Well...John, that would be fifty nine. More than ninety five percent cases had to do with marital issues, or sometimes, child custody related investigations. Man, is that all we have been doing all these months. That is kind of depressing.” said Sheila.

  John got up from the sofa, placed the coffee mug on his table, and walked from one corner of the office to another. Then, he took his seat on the sofa.

  “That is when it hit me, about a month ago. I realized that night, that we are not doing what we are meant to be doing. I am not happy with any of the jobs that I have taken for the last eighteen months. I am thinking of quitting, Sheila. What would you suggest?”

  “I don’t know boss. You are, after all, the boss. If you want to quit, you should quit.” said Sheila. Deep inside her mind, she did not want him to quit. At the same time, she did not know what to do either.

  John knew that she was giving an honest opinion. When she joined his office as a receptionist, it was supposed to be a temp job. Over time, Russo ended up hiking her salary to much more than what a receptionist would be paid. She seemed to like the job, and Russo was not a bad person, once she got to know him better. Given her educational background, she would have no difficulty getting another job.

  “I don’t want to quit being a detective. I just want to quit working on these ridiculous divorce cases. It is the same drill every time. Pay a hacker to find out the email passwords. Pay the phone company to give us the phone records. Tail the cheating husband or wife. Tiny cameras that can capture high definition. The job is just too easy, and I am pretty good at it.” said Russo. He took another sip from his cup. The coffee was trying its best to cheer him up, but Sheila could tell that the coffee was failing miserably. John seemed to have forgotten about the coffee completely.

  “I really thought I was signing up for something else entirely. This is complete crap!” John shouted, losing it. He rammed the coffee across the hall. Fortunately, the cup was empty, and he hit the soft foam decoration on the wall on the other side of the office. Sheila turned to look at the dropped cup. She stood up to pick it up, but Russo asked her to be seated. He went up to the cup, picked it up, and threw it across the room, into the trashcan.

  “Should I get another cup of coffee?” she asked, a worried expression on her face.

  “No. Coffee is not going to help me today. I need to take a walk. If anyone calls, tell them I am sick. Take the rest of the day off, Sheila.” said Russo. He grabbed his coat off the hanger, stepped out of the office, and headed toward the elevator. Sheila noticed that he had left his cell phone behind. She gave a loud sigh, and proceeded to shut the office down. Her boss wants her to take the rest of the day off, and that is what she is going to do.

  John knew that he was going to regret shouting at the one good friend he had in his entire life. He still had his parents, but they wouldn’t count. I mean, parents would always be best friends, but there are a few times that one needed actual friends, not birth parents. He was angry with himself for everything. He knew that he should have seen the signs. When his largest paycheck came from a woman who was happy that she would finally get that separation from her six year old marriage, he should have guessed that something was not right. He knew it was not right, but he went with it. He was young, and the money was good. He was running so fast, he forgot to stop and smell the roses. Roses that were now nowhere to be found. He was lost in a garden filled with thorn-filled bushes.

  He had reached the elevator. He smashed hard on to the button and stood there. His entire body language screamed
restlessness but even he knew that he could not just act crazy like that. As he was waiting, another person joined him in his wait for the elevator to come to his floor. He did not wish to see who it was. He did not care to see who it was. It could be the city mayor or a rock star, but it did not matter. Normally, he would have at least smiled at the person. Today was not one of those days. The elevator came and he got in. The other person also got in with him. John pressed the button for the ground floor lobby and took his place, leaning on one of the corners. The doors closed as the music kicked on.

  It was moving along smoothly for a few seconds, but then it jerked. It jerked again, and that snapped John out of his anger. He looked up at the now flashing lights, and the music that had suddenly stopped. The power went out and the elevator stopped. It was completely dark and then with a flip, the emergency lights turned themselves on. John knew what that meant. Something was wrong, and he was stuck.

  “It had to happen to me.” said the other person to his left. His voice seemed casual, and he seemed least perturbed about the fact that they had stopped moving. John was already mad, and this only made him more upset. He smashed hard against the metal wall. The other stranger reacted calmly and spoke.

  “You alright, detective?”

  For the first time since waiting for the elevator, John looked up to see who it was. It was the fifth floor janitor. John tried hard to remember his name. He could not, no matter how hard he tried. He remembered speaking to him once, but that was a long time ago. He tried again, but could not recollect the name. He just gave up, and the janitor seemed to realize that John was trying really hard to think of his name.

  “Don’t worry, detective. A lot of people have a hard time remembering my name. It’s okay. My name is Sam. Last name not required.” said the janitor.

  The detective looked at him, then stared for a few minutes. John’s face turned into a smile. It was the first time that he had smiled in a while. Then, he broke into a small laughter, and the janitor joined in. The two men, stuck in a box that was hanging by brake lines over hundreds of feet, kept on laughing for a while. Then, they stopped.

  “It’s been a while since something like this has happened to me.” said John.

  “Getting stuck in an elevator?”

  “No. I haven’t laughed in a while. Thanks, Sam.” said John.

  Sam acknowledged his thanks and nodded. John might have considered himself a bit of a failure right then, but his senses wouldn’t take a break. He did a quick scan on the appearance of this janitor who spoke like he had seen things in his life. Sam was wearing a shirt which seemed simple enough. He had the sleeves folded all the way up to his elbow. His jeans were torn at several places and had been patched. The jeans did not really fit him. John figured that the jeans were probably given to the janitor by one of the business owners. Sometimes, people give away their old clothes like that, John thought. Sam’s shoes did fit him, and the brand name showed that it was a local make. Nothing fancy.

  His face was clean shaven, something that always surprised John. Then again, there was no rule that janitors could not look good. In fact, John would prefer that janitors actually took good care of themselves to look smart. A job is a job. A detective goes out of their way to look decent, and so should a janitor. They are both workers and honest taxpayers. John was just about wrapping up his observation when he noticed his fingers. There were two rings on his middle and index finger. The middle finger had a stone that was bright red. It was ordinary enough but what caught his attention was the index finger ring. It was a black stone, and a rare one at that. John thought hard and fast and then it hit him. That stone is one of the six famous ‘caliber’ stones. They are priceless and cost at least a hundred grand.

  For a moment, John forgot about his current predicament with his career. He stared at the ring, with an incredulous expression, and then looked at the janitor with an inquiring expression. The janitor seemed to understand.

  “Don’t worry, detective, I did not steal that ring.”

  “I did not say that, Mr. Janitor.” said John.

  “You did not say much, detective, but perhaps, you may wish to read this.” said the janitor. He dug into his pockets, and pulled out a rather expensive looking wallet. From that he pulled out a card and gave it to John. John’s expression became even more incredulous. The card had a name, ‘Samuel D Trine’. It did not say anything else, but John did not want the card to say anything else. Samuel D. Trine was the name of the owner of the office building, one of the wealthiest real estate businessmen in the city.

  “I’ll be damned! You are...” said John, until he was interrupted by the janitor.

  “Don’t tell anybody, detective. That is my little secret.” said Sam.

  “Why would you, well, work as a janitor in your own building?” said John, now facing him, leaning on the other side of the elevator. Sam leaned on his side of the wall.

  “That’s a long story. This is the job I started out at before I became lucky. My wife is of the opinion that I worked hard and smart. I still prefer to use the word lucky though.” said Sam.

  “Yep. That is what makes people live. Luck and other things.” said John, still recovering from the shock.

  “Something tells me, detective, that you are not happy. I am no psychologist, but I have seen that face on myself a lot of times. I see that expression in the mirror whenever I feel that things are not going my way. Tell me if I am wrong?”

  “Well, sir, you are not wrong. I am in fact, in some kind of trouble. I thought this happens to only middle aged guys who have been stuck in the same job for more than a decade. Never figured it would happen to me after a little more than eighteen months. God, I am actually getting bored of the word eighteen.” said John.

  “You know, detective, boredom does not follow the same time pattern for everybody. I have been in that place a lot of times. You know the best solution to this, detective?” asked Sam.

  “At this point, Sir, I am willing to take any piece of advice. Especially when it is coming from someone like you.” said John, eagerly awaiting the suggestion.

  “When I am in trouble, and I have been trouble a lot of times, I talk to my old man. I don’t know if you have any friends, detective. It does not look like you do. Even if you do, they may not be able to fully appreciate what you are going through. They may be biased with their opinions for a number of reasons. Your father though, he does not have to worry about that.” said Sam, in a voice that reminded John very much of his father’s voice.

  “I think I will do that. Talk to my Dad.” said John. He was about to say something else when the emergency lights were replaced by regular lights. The elevator gave a little jerk and started moving down again. Sam and the detective both looked at each other and smiled.

  “Looks like our little meeting has been closed by fate, detective. I wish you the best and hope that I have helped you out of your predicament.” said Sam, stepping out of the elevator.

  “Thank you.” said John, more to himself than the janitor.

  As he got off the elevator, the lobby receptionist lifted his hat and said hello. Russo was in no mood to return a smile, and continued onward to the main door. He stopped at the door, thinking about what he just did. About what happened to him in the elevator with the janitor. It was all getting mixed up like crazy in his head. He thought that conversation in the elevator made him better. His head was sore, and there he was thinking that he would never ever get a headache. Yet, he was getting one right now. As he stepped out, he turned around to find the lobby person still looking at him, with a discouraged face.

  Russo stopped midway in the lobby. He looked around the grand lobby of his office building. One of the things and reasons why he chose this building was because of the lobby. The moment he stepped into this lobby for the first time, all those months ago, he was impressed. The lobby had a coffee machine, which was always a p
lus. He knew he would have a kitchen in his office, but sometimes you want a dispenser to give you a hot cup of coffee on demand.

  The lobby had interesting furniture. John thought that the furniture actually made the ordinary lobby look better. More importantly, the lobby reminded him of his favorite movie, ‘The Lost Man’. The Lost Man was this underrated movie that John would watch all the time when he was a kid. The movie was about a private detective who is hired to investigate the disappearance of a young boy. The boy’s mother hires this private detective to find out more. The private detective ends up having an affair with the mother, who also happens to be his client. Things get even more complicated when he finds out that the client’s ex-husband is actually a member of the mafia. Things slowly escalate, and the detective finds his life on the line, and soon, the boy is not even the main part of the plot. The plot begins to get crazier when the detective finds himself embroiled in a matter that is beyond a common-place kidnapping.

  Every time John watched that movie, he could not get that character out of his head. It was a child’s fantasy, and he figured that he would grow out of it. For reasons he could not understand, he never grew out of it. More to the point, the lobby where his current office was located reminded him of something from that movie. At about an hour’s mark in the movie’s run time, the private detective gets ambushed in this hotel lobby. The four minute gun battle sequence made John go crazy every time. Every time he watched that movie, he made up his mind that if he were to have an office, that office was going to have a lobby like that.