I had been with TORT for almost two years when Roscoe Dollworth called me into his office, commanded me to shut the door and sit down.
This time, it wasn't about an assignment, exactly. It was 17
about much more than that.
I said nothing, just watched Mr Dollworth pour himself a paper cup of vodka from his thermos. He sipped it slowly, staring at me thoughtfully across his desk.
He was a blobby man, with a belly that kept his swivel chair two feet from his desk. His scraggly, straw-coloured hair was thinning; patches of freckled scalp showed through. Darkish eyebrows were so snarled that I had seen him comb them. His nose had evidently been broken several times; it just didn't know which way to turn. His lips were glutinous, teeth tobacco-stained. But the eyes were hard and squinchy. Looking at those eyes made me happy I was his friend and not an enemy.
'Look, kid,' he said finally in a deep, burpy voice, 'let me tell you what's been happening. You know, I figure to retire in a couple of years, if this miserable ulcer don't kill me first. That means they got to replace me — right? So I went to old man Teitelbaum. He likes you — you know? He hired you because you're the only guy in the joint smaller than he is. You knew that, didn't you?'
'Yes,' I said, 'I knew.'
'Well…' he said, sipping vodka, 'you turned out real good. I mean, you work hard, don't steal stamps, and you're polite. Always ready with a smile. Everyone here likes you. Except maybe Hamish Hooter, that prick. But he don't like anyone. Except maybe Yetta Apatoff. Hooter would like to like her — about six inches' worth.'
I nodded dumbly.
'So I says to Teitelbaum, how about promoting Josh Bigg to investigator? Let him work with me my last two years, I says, and I guarantee to teach him the ropes. By the time I step down, you'll have a spry young man ready to fill my shoes, a guy who knows his way around. I told Teitelbaum how good you done on those little jobs I gave you. This kid, I says, has got a good nut on his shoulders.
Give him a chance, and you'll have an A-Number One 18
Investigator in your organization.'
I was excited. I slid forward to the edge of my chair. I leaned eagerly towards Dollworth.
'And what did he say?'
'He said no,' the Chief Investigator said regretfully. 'He said you were too young. He said you didn't have the experience. He said he wanted another ex-cop to take my place.'
I collapsed.
'Wait a minute,' Dollworth said, holding up a hand like a smoked ham. 'I never take a turndown without I put up a fight. I said you might look young, but by the time I retire, you'll be thirty — right? — and your brain is older than that.
Also, I says, as far as experience goes, I can teach you most of what you'll have to know, and the rest you'll pick up as you go along. And as for hiring an ex-cop, I says, if he wants another rumdum like me, that's his business. But an investigator gets out a lot, meets the public, and he should make a good impression as a representative of the firm.
And you dress neat, wear a jacket and pants that match, and a tie and all. Then I throw in the clincher. Also, I tell Teitelbaum, you hire an ex-cop to take my place, you'll be lucky to get away paying him twenty G's a year. You could get Bigg to do the same work for half of that.'
'What did he say to that?' I asked breathlessly.
'They're having a meeting this afternoon,' Roscoe Dollworth said. 'The three senior partners. I'll let you know how it comes out. Meanwhile, my jug is getting low.
How's about you rushing the growler for me?'
Late that afternoon I was informed that the senior partners of Tabatchnick, Orsini, Reilly, and Teitelbaum, in solemn conclave assembled, had decreed that I was to be replaced in the mailroom and, for a period of two years, be apprenticed to Chief Investigator Dollworth. At the end of that period, the senior partners would accept Dollworth's judgment on whether I was or was not qualified to assume 19
his office upon his retirement. During my apprenticeship, I would continue to earn $150 a week.
'Don't worry about a thing,' Roscoe Dollworth assured me, winking. 'It's in the bag. I'm going to run your ass ragged. You'll learn.'
He did, and I did. For the next two years I worked harder than I thought possible, sometimes putting in an eighteen-hour day in my determination to master my new craft.
There were so many things Dollworth taught me that it would be impossible to list them all. They included a basic education in such matters as criminal and civil law, the right of privacy, and the rules of evidence, and instruction on such practical matters as how to pick a lock, the best methods of shadowing on a crowded street, and what equipment to take along on an extended stakeout. (The first item was an empty milk carton in which one might relieve oneself.)
In addition to Dollworth's lectures and the actual investigations assigned to me with increasing frequency, I also did a great deal of studying at home. My books were manuals of the New York Police Academy, which Dollworth obtained for me, plus heavy volumes on the law, legal procedures, and criminology which I purchased or borrowed from the public library.
At the end of my two-year apprenticeship, I felt, with my indefatigable optimism, that I had mastered the arcane mysteries of my new profession, and was well qualified to become Chief Investigator of TORT. I must have conveyed some of this conceit to my mentor, for a few days prior to his retirement, he called me into his office, slammed the door, and delivered himself of the following:
'You think you know it all, do you? You make me sick, you do! You know nothing. Nothing! A wise wrongo could have you running around in circles, chasing your tail.
Wait'll you come up against a liar, a good liar. You won't know if you're coming or going. You're just on the ground floor, kiddo. You got a helluva lot to learn. I seen the way you look at that Yetta Apatoff. If she said jump out the window, out you'd go. But what if a twist exactly like her was a suspect, and you had to get the goods on her? Shit, all you'd see would be B and B, boobs and behind, and she'd take a walk. Bye-bye, birdie. Josh, you've got to learn to doubt everyone. Suspect everyone. It's a hard, cruel world out there, filled with bad guys and millions of others who would be bad if they weren't scared of being caught.
Never, never believe what people tell you until you check it out. Never, never let your personal feelings interfere with your job. And most of all, never believe that because a woman is beautiful or a man is handsome, successful, and contributes to his church, that they can't be the slimiest crooks in the world. Most of the people you meet will be out to con you. So you just smile and say, "Uh-huh," and start checking them out. Josh, you've got a lot going for you. You got a brain on you, you can get people to open up, and you got a good imagination. Maybe too good. But what worries me most about you is that you're so innocent, so fucking innocent! '
But my shortcomings had not deterred Roscoe Dollworth from recommending me as his successor. A week later he was off to Florida with a set of matching luggage from the employees of TORT, a $5,000 retirement bonus, and a pair of fine German binoculars I gave him.
'To watch the pelicans,' I told him.
'Sure, kid,' he said, hitting my arm. 'Very nice. I'll send you my address. Keep in touch. If I can ever help you out with the Department, let me know.'
'Thank you, Mr Dollworth,' I said. 'For everything.'
During the next twenty-six months I was made mournfully aware of the difference between on-the-job training under the tutelage of an experienced investigator and having full responsibility, without supervision, for all investigative activities of Tabatchnick, Orsini, Reilly, and Teitelbaum.
First of all, requests for investigations flowed into my office from the three senior partners, seven junior partners (including Tabatchnick II and Orsini II and III), twelve associates, law clerks, paralegal assistants, and the despicable office manager, Hamish Hooter. It took me awhile to get a system of priorities organized and to learn to deal with all these strong-willed and redoubtable individuals. (The legal profession seems to have the effect of first enlarging egos and then setting them permanently in concrete.)