“You know I can’t back out. I need the money. I’ve already quit my job.”
“Then man up, friend. You stepped up to the plate. The bat’s left your shoulder. Stop worrying about whether or not you like baseball.”
Beckett faced Corbin. “I said before that I’m not backing out. So drop it.”
Corbin waited several seconds before responding. “All right, you’re in. You wanna talk about tomorrow?”
“Yeah, let’s go over it one more time.”
The tense atmosphere in the room cleared significantly.
“You arrive at your usual time, o’ dark thirty. Bring your stuff up here. Turn on your computer and head down to the dumpster in the parking lot. No one can see you there. I’ll pick you up and take you to the station, where you catch the train north. I’ve got your ticket in the duffel bag, which will be sitting in the backseat of my car.”
“I meet Nobody in Baltimore.”
“Right, he’ll have the seat opposite you. He’ll be wearing a blue button-down dress shirt and gray slacks, no tie. He’s got black-brown hair and brown eyes. He’ll answer to ‘Joe.’ I told him you’d answer to ‘Jeff.’”
Beckett looked at his watch. “Shouldn’t we be going to lunch?”
Corbin checked his own watch. “Yep. Don’t forget, we make that funky order today, the one that looks like only one of us is eating.”
“I remember. It’s a good thing I’m not very hungry.”
“Just stick with the order we discussed and don’t say anything unusual to the waitress. Treat this like a normal lunch.”
Chapter 11
As he pulled into the deserted parking lot, Corbin saw Beckett pacing in the dark by the dumpster. Beckett wore his navy-blue suit pants and a white shirt. He kept beating his palms together. When the car stopped, Beckett flung the passenger door open.
“We have a problem! We can’t use this information!” Beckett screeched.
Corbin squinted at Beckett. “Why not?”
“We work with these people! I can’t believe I didn’t see this before. All it’ll take is for one of them to spot us on a security video and we’re done!”
Corbin let out a hissing sound through his gritted teeth. “Joe Nobody will be the only person who ever appears on video because you aren’t going inside. No one knows Nobody, so no one can identify him from a videotape. And let me remind you, there won’t be any videotape by the time they finally figure out something happened, if they figure out something happened and if anyone cares enough to investigate.”
Beckett bit his lip and climbed into the car. “Oh man, I feel like an idiot.”
Corbin didn’t respond.
As they drove in silence to the train station, Beckett kept looking over his shoulder at the duffel bag in the backseat. His mouth was dry. When they neared the station, Beckett pulled the duffel bag onto his lap. It was heavier than he’d expected. Before them stood Union Station, with the fifty state flags displayed proudly along the semi-circular road that ran past the station. Behind them to the right stood the Capital Building, just beyond a stand of trees.
Corbin nodded toward the crosswalk at Massachusetts Avenue. “I’m gonna let you out at the corner. Don’t forget to give me your wallet.”
Beckett stepped out of the car and handed his wallet and keys to Corbin. He looked at Union Station, his gateway to Philadelphia and destinations unknown. “What have you gotten me into?”
“A brighter future,” Corbin said without hesitation.
Without another word, Beckett disappeared into the early-morning crowd.
Corbin tossed his suit jacket onto the spare chair. Beckett’s navy-blue polyester suit jacket already hung from the coat rack. Corbin added a hot cup of coffee to Beckett’s desk and entered Beckett’s password, causing Beckett’s computer to dutifully report Beckett’s presence to Kak’s computer. Corbin took his own seat and began his day. He felt great.
The recently-renovated Baltimore station rolled into view outside the train’s window. The platform was busy, even though the morning rush hour had yet to begin. Several travelers boarded Beckett’s car, but none fit the description of Joe Nobody. Beckett stood up to get a better look around the car. He tapped the back of his seat and scowled. He heard the door chimes ring.
“If that son of a bitch doesn’t show up,” he said to himself.
As Beckett spoke, an Hispanic-looking man entered the rear of the car. The man wore a light-blue, button-down shirt and gray slacks, with headphones wrapped around his neck and thick glasses stuffed into his shirt pocket. Sure enough, the man sat down opposite Beckett.
“You’re Joe.”
“You’re Jeff.” Alvarez checked his watch. “You have the bag?”
“Of course,” Beckett said, patting the duffel bag on the seat next to him. “You’re late.”
“How am I late? It’s a train. If I was late, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?” Alvarez pulled his headphones to his ears and fiddled with the volume control.
“Are you going to do that the whole way?”
Alvarez pulled off the headphones. “Do what?”
“Never mind,” Beckett replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He waited for Alvarez to replace the headphones before speaking again.
Alvarez removed the headphones again. “What did you say?”
“I said to make sure you’re awake when we get to Philly.”
Alvarez went to replace the headphones again.
“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” Beckett said, nodding toward the glasses in Alvarez’s shirt pocket.
“I don’t. I borrowed these.”
“Can you see through them?”
“Not well.” Alvarez returned the headphones to his ears. The next time Beckett spoke, he didn’t remove the headphones.
Molly stood in Corbin’s door watching him type. Despite the warm day they were expecting, she had abandoned her recent near-miniskirts for a tight, black, silk skirt with a red rose print, that fell to the lower end of her calves. The skirt was so snug it visibly restricted her movements. The combination of the tight skirt and her higher-than-normal high heels made her appear precariously balanced. A wide black belt rested just above her hips and three silver bracelets stood out prominently below the short sleeves of her dark-red blouse. Her lips, her fingernails, and her toenails visible through her open-toed shoes and tan stockings, all matched the dark red of her blouse.
Corbin didn’t look up, but he did acknowledge her presence. “Molly.”
“Corbin,” Molly echoed his tone.
“How are you today?”
“Ceteras paribas, ceteras paribas.” Molly made her way to Beckett’s chair. She spun the chair to face Corbin and sat down, crossing her legs with no apparent difficulty.
“Ceteras paribas?” Corbin asked, without stopping his typing.
“It means same shit, different day.”
“Doesn’t it mean, all else remains unchanged?”
“That’s what I said.” Molly picked up Beckett’s coffee cup. Corbin drunk half the contents ten minutes prior. “Where’s your diminutive friend?”
“What is this, big word Tuesday?”
“I’m feeling loquacious.” Molly smiled.
“Clearly. I have no idea where he went. He’s in high demand today, with this being his last day and all.” Corbin looked up from his keyboard. He looked Molly up and down. “What are you dressed up for?”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Do I need a reason to look nice?”
Corbin shook his head.
“Have you met the F-N-G yet?” she asked.
“‘F-N-G’?”
“Fucking new guy.”
“Ah, no, I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“It’s no pleasure, I assure you.”
“I take it you’ve met him?”
“Yes, I have,” Molly said, as she swirled Beckett’s coffee in her hand. “They sent us a dud. . a real dud. . weapons grade boring. His last name should be Bland, Mr. Bland.” Suddenly, Corbin realized the reason Molly was dressed up.
“Wonderful. At least he won’t interfere with nap time.”