“See you later,” he said and opened the door.
“Dewey,” she said, taking the cigarette out of her mouth.
He stopped in the doorway, expecting some more shit from her, and said, “Yeah?”
In an amicable voice the likes of which he hadn’t heard in months, she said, “Did you say you were gonna see that kid today?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything’s okay. I might give him some busywork and a couple hundred bucks to keep him happy.”
“I was thinking,” Eunice said. “Since he knows something now that nobody else does, we’re gonna have to handle Clark with extra-special care.”
“Yeah?” Dewey said. “You got a suggestion?”
“I was thinking that you better keep him close for a while.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to adopt him,” Dewey said.
“I’m just saying, maybe we should… get to know him,” Eunice said.
“Like how?”
“Oh, how about we invite him to a nice restaurant tonight or tomorrow night? You know, talk to the boy? See where his head is? I sure wouldn’t wanna pack up and move to another location real quick just because of him.”
A look, a silence, and she returned to the computer keyboard, tapping the keys as though it had been a thought in passing.
“Maybe you’re right,” Dewey finally said. “I’ll call and see if he’s good to go for something like that. Maybe we could take him to Musso’s. I can’t remember the last time we went to dinner together.”
“Okay,” she said too casually. “Gimme a call and let me know if it’s gonna happen.”
By the time Dewey got down the steps to the parking garage, he actually laughed aloud, then looked around to make sure nobody was down there who could hear him. Dewey Gleason’s pain was forgotten. This was an unbelievable stroke of good fortune. He only had to figure out how to make it work. Dewey was giddy with excitement. Eunice was falling in love!
It was payday, and Malcolm’s boss did not look particularly happy when the young man asked to leave work two hours early for a dental appointment. He asked why Malcolm hadn’t told him this before the day he was due at the dentist so that a suitable personnel adjustment could have been made. Malcolm apologized and said it would not happen again.
The moment he left work, he speed-dialed Naomi Teller and was overjoyed when she answered.
“It’s Clark,” he said. “Today’s the day!”
“The day for what?” Naomi said.
“Where you at?”
“I’m at my girlfriend’s house. We’re gonna go swimming in her pool.”
“Forget swimming,” Malcolm said. “Lemme pick you up and we’ll go to Mel’s Drive-In on the Strip.”
Naomi hesitated and then said, “Can I bring my girlfriend?”
“No way, Naomi,” Malcolm said. “This is our special time, like I been promising. You’re gonna like Mel’s. It’s not McDonald’s, that’s for sure.”
“On the Sunset Strip?” she said. “I guess not.”
“I can afford it,” Malcolm said.
Again there was silence on the line, and then the girl said, “Okay, you wanna pick me up here?”
“Where is it?”
“On Hayworth, right near Fountain. Let me run and get the exact address. I’ll have to think of some excuse.”
“Tell her your cousin arrived from Boston and your mom wants you home right away.”
“Who should I say is picking me up?”
“Your cousin from Boston.”
“I think I can come up with a better story,” she said. “Gimme a minute to get the house number for you.”
“Goody!” Clark cried.
That made her giggle. “You’re so silly,” she said.
After Naomi came back on the line with the address, Malcolm said, “I’ll see you in twenty-five minutes.”
He clicked off and drove to a check-cashing service near the home improvement center to cash his paycheck. He wasn’t worried about money anymore. He’d soon have plenty of it, now that he was in tight with Bernie Graham and his secretary, Ethel. He wouldn’t really mind if his boss at the warehouse fired him.
Thinking of his warehouse job made him think of the box cutter in the pocket of his jeans. These days he was carrying it with him at all times. He took it out, opened the glove box, and tossed it inside.
Late that afternoon, Dewey Gleason as Bernie Graham rented the tiny upstairs apartment in Frogtown after receiving the call from Jerzy Szarpowicz. Within an hour of closing the deal and signing the check-using one of the small-business accounts that was nearly depleted-Dewey met with his co-conspirators at the property.
“It’s a dump,” Tristan said when he and Jerzy walked inside.
“You need fuckin’ luxury to do a kidnap?” Jerzy said.
“It’s got two rooms and a bathroom, and that’s enough,” Dewey said. “And it’s not close to a residence. Good job, Jerzy.”
Jerzy smiled slightly, at last feeling appreciated.
“Use duct tape and tape those blinds to the wall,” Dewey said. “We don’t want her seeing daylight, and we damn sure don’t want her knowing where she is. This gag’s gotta last two days.”
Dewey assumed that after two days, when they wouldn’t be able to reach him and figured out that he was gone for good, they’d simply release Eunice and go back to being the street scum they’d always been. What could Eunice do about any of it? Complain that her criminal employees had kidnapped her? Complain that her husband had stolen the money that she’d stolen from hundreds of people, much of it even before she’d met her husband?
He wondered if it was his imagination or if there was something suspicious in the way that Creole glanced around the apartment and said casually, “Yeah, this gag’s gotta last two days. That’s how long it’ll take your banker pal to release funds, huh? That’s a long time from our end.”
“It can’t be helped,” Dewey said. “It’s gotta be that way if this is gonna work.”
“It’s gonna work, Bernie,” Jerzy said. “You got my guarantee that she’ll give it up.”
Those sinister words made Dewey Gleason feel more than a little uneasy. The big talk was over. Now it was going to happen and the Polack meant business.
“I don’t think you’ll have to get rough with her,” Dewey said.
“We’ll do what we gotta do,” Jerzy said.
This time it was Tristan feeling it. “I told you two I ain’t torturin’ no woman,” he said to Jerzy.
Jerzy pulled up the T-shirt hanging over his gut and showed them the two-inch Colt revolver. “You two are gonna do whatever has to be done to get that fuckin’ money. Once this thing starts, it goes all the way and we ain’t turnin’ back.”
Tristan glanced at Dewey, who averted his eyes. Jerzy’s own eyes were glassy and slightly dilated. Tristan figured he’d been smoking ice for courage, and he didn’t like that. The Polack was trouble enough when he wasn’t high.
“One thing sure,” Tristan said, looking at Jerzy. “We gotta stay clean and sober for this job or it ain’t gonna work. We gotta main-tain at all times. I hope we agree about that.”
Jerzy gave one of his scoffing snorts that Tristan had come to hate and said, “You two do your jobs. I’m sure as fuck gonna do mine.”
“I’d suggest you rent the van at the same place under the same name,” Dewey said to Tristan, eager to get the conversation away from Jerzy and the menace in his close-set little eyes.
“We’ll need five Franklins to hold us till this goes down,” Tristan said. “Then we might need more. Sleepin’ bags for Jerzy and me. A metal bed that we can chain her to. Food for two days, and lots of little stuff, like toilet paper, bottled water, whatever.”
“And room deodorizer,” Jerzy said. “She’s gonna smell like a cesspool when we put the fear on her.”
Dewey opened his wallet and took out $600 and handed it to Tristan, saying, “This is to get started.” Jerzy reached over and snatched three of the $100 bills from Tristan’s hand.