by Al Lamanda
“Oh, you know,” Peru said.
“Yeah,” Gavin said.
A one time second story man, on his second stretch at the state prison, Peru learned car mechanics and repair and upon his release, went to work for a foreign car dealership on the west side. After years of cheap labor, Peru opened his own shop on
Eleventh Avenue and specialized in high-end foreign car repairs because the owners were usually too dumb to know an over inflated bill when presented with one. A foul sparkplug could run as high as two thousand dollars, which Mercedes owners were happy to fork over for bragging rights on repair bills. “Sure,” Ian said.
Garko returned with a tray. He set three shot glasses and a mug of coffee on the table before Peru, nodded to Gavin, then dashed back to the bar.
“Busy little guy,” Peru said.
“Sure,” Ian said.
Peru poured the shots of rye, Scotch and bourbon into the black coffee, stirred it with his finger, picked it up, took a sip and said, “So, Lee, what did you want to see me about?”
“The call you took and relayed to Ian, did you check it out first?” Gavin said.
“Course,” Peru said. “I never would send somebody your way I didn’t check out first. You know that.”
“I know it,” Ian said.
“And?” Gavin said.
“Some of us have trust,” Ian said.
“Guys some kind of potato king in Idaho,” Peru said. “Worth millions, more. He said he needed a job done and did I know anybody.”
“And some of us don’t,” Ian said.
“He say what the job is?” Gavin said.
Peru shook his head no, as he took another sip from his mug. “And I wouldn’t ask. All I do now is put people together who might have a mutual understanding.”
“And you do it very well,” Ian said.
“For a small finder’s fee,” Peru said.
“And worth every nickel,” Ian said.
“Is he…?” Peru said, nodding at Ian.
“Always,” Gavin said.
Peru put the mug to his lips and took several long swallows, set the mug down and waved Garko to the table. “I could do with a repeat,” Peru said.
“Marvelous,” Garko said. “And you?” he said to Ian and Gavin.
“I’m good,” Gavin said.
“Just so you know there’s a ten percent surcharge for not drinking,” Garko said.
“You’re charging me for not drinking?” Gavin said.
“Well, after all, this is a bar,” Garko said and whisked himself back to the bar.
“Man has a point,” Ian said.
“One last thing, Johnny,” Gavin said. “This Wallace seem at all strange to you when you met him?”
“I only met him the one time he came to the garage,” Peru said. “Besides being short, I didn’t see anything.”
Garko returned with just a mug and set it down in front of Peru. “Fully loaded,” he said, cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Peru said as he tasted the coffee.
“My pleasure,” Garko said and dashed away.
“Oh, I don’t know if you’d consider this strange,” Peru said.
“Not at all,” Ian said.
“But the man was wearing some kind of woman’s skirt,” Peru said.
“The freak,” Ian said.
“I won’t hold it against him so long as his money is good,” Gavin said.
“We don’t judge here,” Ian said. “We’re judge-less.”
Peru sucked down his coffee and stood up. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you, Lee.”
As Peru sauntered toward the door, Garko returned once again and set the check on the table next to Gavin.
Gavin looked at Ian.
Ian looked at Gavin.
Gavin removed a one hundred dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Garko. “Will there be any…”
“No,” Garko said.
“Don’t insult the man,” Ian said as Garko went to the bar.
“How about you don’t insult me for a change and spring for a tab once in a while,” Gavin said.
“Never happy,” Ian said, standing up. “Here I bring you a first class score and all you can do is complain about a few beers.”
“I can complain about a lot more than that,” Gavin said and stood up. “But, who would listen?”
“Nobody,” Ian said. “Let’s grab a cab. The subway’s always so crowded, nobody rides them anymore.”
THREE
Gavin and Ian stood awestruck in the doorway of the revolving bar on the 15th floor of the Marriott Hotel in Times Square. The bar, a hotspot for tourists because of the revolving, 360-degree views of Times Square was usually quiet and reserved, with gentle piano music in the background. A perfect place for quiet conversation while taking in the best of the city lights.
Loud, overpowering bagpipe music slapped Gavin and Ian in the face the second they opened the doors and set foot in the bar. Three hundred or more men in kilts stood around and sang Scottish folk songs to the bagpipes, most too drunk to remember or get the words right.
“What the hell is this?” Gavin shouted
“I think it’s some kind of convention for cross dressers!” Ian shouted.
“Those are kilts!” Gavin shouted.
“They aught to be killed for dressing like that!” Ian shouted.
“Not killed, kilts!” Gavin said.
“Hey, there’s Wallace!” Ian shouted.
At a table by a window, Waldo waved Gavin and Ian over. As they walked to the table, Waldo stood up, exposing his kilt and very bony knees.
“I should have warned you the Scottish-American convention is in town!” Waldo shouted. “All the better hotels are booked.”
“We can’t talk here!” Gavin shouted. “Those bagpipes!”
“Beautiful, aren’t they!” Waldo shouted.
“Your room!” Gavin shouted.
“Aye!” Waldo shouted.
In the elevator, Waldo explained. “Every year the Scottish-American society holds its convention in different places. This year we selected New York, which made it easier for me to locate gentlemen such as you.”
“By gentlemen you mean thieves,” Ian said.
“I wouldn’t put it quite so bluntly, but yes,” Waldo said. “Ah, here’s my floor.”
As they walked along the ninth floor hallway, Waldo said, “I’m a descendent of the great William Wallace, you know.”
“Is he also in potatoes?” Ian said.
“Hardly,” Waldo said. “Have you seen the great film Braveheart?”
“Mel Gibson kicked ass in that movie,” Ian said.
“Well, I’m a…” Waldo said.
“FREEdommmm,” Ian chanted.
“No, see, what I’m…”
“Whack,” Ian said. “Off with the head.”
“Mr. Nelson, if you would…”
“That king was a son of a bitch, but old Mel wouldn’t take his crap,” Ian said.
“No, see, what I’m trying to…”
Gavin spun, grabbed Ian’s lips and held them fast as he said, “Mr. Wallace, just take us to your room.”
“We’re here,” Waldo said in front of room 1114.
“Good,” Gavin said and snapped Ian’s lips.
“Hey, what’s the…?” Ian said.
Waldo had the room open and he stepped inside.
With a gently nudge, Gavin shoved Ian behind Waldo, then closed the door.
Four faces stared at Gavin and Ian from the sofa. Four bodies jumped up from the sofa in unison. Dudley Brown rushed forward and wagged a finger in Gavin’s face.
“It’s our egg,” Dudley snapped. “Ours!”
“No problem,” Ian said, casting an eye at Gavin.
“They tricked us,” Dudley said.
“Sure they did,” Ian said.
“They stole it when we were drunk,” Dudley said.
“I hate when that happens,” Ian said.
“Mr.
Brown, please control yourself,” Waldo said. “I’d like to introduce…”
Looking at the white tape on the bridge of Dudley’s glasses, Ian said, “You should get those fixed.”
“Get what fixed?” Dudley said.
“Would everybody please listen to me?” Waldo said. “This is Mr. Nelson and Mr. Gavin and they are here to help us with our problem.”
“The problem is they stole it, they stole our egg,” Dudley said.
“Mr. Brown, would you go to the bar and pour us all a nice glass of scotch?” Waldo said. He looked at Gavin and Ian. “Have a seat. My story will take a while.”
“In that case, maybe we should call room service for a little something to nosh on?” Ian said.
“Mabel, would you call room service and order some…?” Waldo said and paused to look at Ian.
“Steak, New York prime,” Ian said. “A nice salad, a couple of baked potatoes, some nice green beans with butter and maybe pie and coffee for dessert.”
Waldo stared at Ian.
“Oh, and some nice appetizers to wet the old whistle,” Ian said.
“Well, let’s get comfortable,” Waldo said.
Gavin and Ian tossed their jackets onto a chair and took seats on the small sofa that faced the large sofa where Dudley, Mabel, Cody and Oscar sat.
“Have you been following the recent news concerning the discovery of a Dodo egg?” Waldo said.
“I don’t watch the news,” Gavin said.
“It’s so depressing,” Ian said.
“But, you are aware of the Dodo?” Waldo said.
“Always gloomy,” Ian said. “I mean, who needs to be depressed all the time.”
“The Dodo Bird that went instinct some four centuries ago around 1610, surly you’ve heard about that?” Waldo said.
“I did hear something about that on the radio,” Ian said. “I was making my mail route in Westchester just before Christmas and something was on the radio.”
“You deliver mail?” Waldo said.
“It’s more like I steal mail,” Ian said. “Christmas cards, to be exact. See, at least twenty percent of Christmas Cards have money and gift cards in them. What I do is…”
“Later,” Gavin said. “What about the Dodo Bird, Mr. Wallace?”
Dudley was about to jump up from the sofa when Waldo stuck his hand out and motioned for him to sit.
“The Dodo Bird was found on only one tiny island in the entire world,” Waldo said. “For centuries, a full skeleton of the bird has been searched for. None have been found.” He paused to motion to Dudley, Mabel, Oscar and Cody. “They were my research team sent to the island to find a skeleton. Instead, they found an actual…”
Dudley jumped up from the sofa with wild, bulging eyes behind his thick glasses. Waldo again stuck his hand out and waved Dudley back to the sofa.
“As I was saying, they found an actual Dodo Egg,” Waldo said. “From that egg, DNA can be extracted and a chick hatched in a laboratory. That was my plans before the egg was stolen.”
Dudley jumped up once more and Ian stuck his hand out and waved him back to the sofa.
“Thank you,” Waldo said.
“Sure,” Ian said.
“As I was saying, to be able to hatch a chick of a bird extinct for hundreds of years would a scientific phenomenon the likes the world has never seen,” Waldo said.
“Never!” Dudley shouted as he jumped to his feet.
Ian stuck out his hand. “Sit!”
Dudley sat.
“Stay,” Ian said.
Dudley stayed.
“Good boy,” Ian said.
“So who has the egg now?” Gavin said.
“The people who stole the egg are the Science Club of New York,” Waldo said.
“Those rat bastards!” Dudley shouted.
“Anybody got a rolled up newspaper?” Ian said.
There was a sudden knock at the door. “Room service!” a voice called out.
“Ah,” Waldo said. “Let’s continue this over dinner.”
Ninety minutes later, Waldo concluded the tale with, “So you see, Gentlemen, the Science Club of New York is composed of hacks. Millionaires with nothing better to do than steal the work of others for the limelight. They have no real interest in science or anything else for that matter except for self-glory. Since they’ve stolen all our notes and documentation along with the egg, we have no legal claim and to pursue this in court would just look like sour grapes unless we have the egg and our documentation.”
“It’s quite a story, Mr. Wallace,” Gavin said. “But you don’t need to justify what you want done to us. We really don’t care what your motives are.”
“Not in the least,” Ian said.
“If you have the means to hire us to steal something and the job is doable, we’ll do it,” Gavin said. “Why you want something stolen is your business, not ours.”
“We’re professionals,” Ian said. “We’re only interested in money.”
“Me, too,” Cody said from the end of the large dining table. “I love money.”
“I understand,” Waldo said to Gavin.
“Perfect then,” Ian chirped as he helped himself to a final slice of pie.
“I’m not sure you do,” Gavin said to Waldo.
“I don’t understand,” Waldo said.
“Ours is a complicated business,” Ian said as he forked a hunk of pie into his mouth.
“Say we are successful in stealing the egg and returning it to you,” Gavin said.
“That’s our goal, returning the egg,” Ian said.
“You said so yourself that the entire world knows about the egg and the science club,” Gavin said. “How will you explain the egg in your possession and not theirs after all the publicity?”
About to fork another hunk of pie into his mouth, Ian paused. “I’d like to know that one myself.”
“A simple matter of hiding the egg for six months or so while we gather evidence of their crime,” Waldo said. “Once we have the proof, we proceed in court while we hatch a chick in Europe.”
“Would they be in possession of the proof?” Gavin said. “The notes and photographs your people took?”
“I’d say yes,” Waldo said. “They’ll use it to create their own documentation, then destroy the proof later on.”
“So it’s possible we might be able to get our hands on the proof as well as the egg?” Gavin said.
“A two for,” Ian said.
“The risk is high,” Gavin said. “Which means the payment needs to match the risk.”
“Mr. Gavin, every time someone orders a baked potato, a side order of mashed or a plate of fries, there is a twenty-five percent chance that fry is mine,” Waldo said. “Money is not a problem.”
“Good,” Gavin said. “Before we say yes to this job, I need certain details.”
“Details are important,” Ian said. “Can’t operate without details.”
“Such as?” Waldo said.
“Where is the egg now and where is it going next?” Gavin said. “When is it coming to New York and how long will it be here before they take it to Sweden to that cloning lab you spoke about? Any background info you have on the science club members, where they live, where their club is located, things like that?”
“I see,” Waldo said. “Yes, very good.”
“How soon can you have it?” Gavin said.
“Tomorrow,” Waldo said.
“Good,” Gavin said. “Once we have all the facts, we’ll be able to tell you if this is doable or not.”
“We’ll meet here?” Waldo said.
“No,” Gavin said. “Never the same place twice. Meet us at the ice skating rink in Central Park at one tomorrow afternoon. Large crowd, no one will hear us talking, that kind of thing.”
Waldo smiled at Gavin. “I must say I find this entire operation rather invigorating.”
“So do we,” Ian said. “It’s in our blood.”
“I can understand that,” Waldo sai
d. “Potatoes can be so boring.”
“That’s why we put salt on French fries,” Ian said.
“One last thing before we go,” Gavin said. “Payment for this meeting.”
Waldo stood up from the table. “Quite right,” he said and entered the master bedroom.
Dudley looked at Gavin. “You’ll get our egg.”
“We’ll do our…” Ian said.
“That egg is ours, those suns a bitches,” Dudley said.
“If it’s something we…” Ian said.
Dudley slammed his fist on the table. “Ours!” he said.
“Yours,” Ian said.
“Ours!” Dudley shouted.
Waldo returned with a thick envelope and gave it to Gavin. “Until tomorrow,” Waldo said.
Ian nodded to Dudley. “You might want to get him a chew toy to keep him occupied,” Ian said to Waldo.
“One last thing, Mr. Wallace,” Gavin said. “If you own them, wear pants.”
FOUR
Walking north along Broadway, Ian said, “Well, that was a quick ten grand.”
Christmas lights and music smacked Gavin in the face like hot air from the subway on an August afternoon. What was more annoying, repetitive holiday music you couldn’t escape from or walking down the street with Ian?
The music, Gavin decided, but just by a hair and only because he couldn’t punch the music in the nose when his head swelled with Ian frustration, which was getting close, by the way.
“What’s that mean?” Gavin said.
“What?”
“What you just said, what did you mean?”
“What did I say?”
“You said that was a quick ten grand, what did you mean?”
“Ten grand apiece for listening to his nonsense, it’s a nice after Christmas, Christmas present,” Ian said. “I mean, now that we have the particulars of the job we both know it’s too high a risk and probably impossible to do anyway.”
Gavin suddenly stopped short.
Ian kept walking, stopped and turned around. “Right?”
Gavin’s hands at his side suddenly balled up into rock hard fists.
“Lee?” Ian said.
Gavin closed his eyes.
“Aw, come on,” Ian said, knowing the signs that his brother-in-law was about to slip into determined mode. “You heard Mr. Pantsless back there. He wants us to steal his stupid egg in front of the whole world. I don’t know about you, but I know when something’s impossible and this is that something.”
