Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.
Chapter 9
Bobby got to their house at 5:50PM. His nature was always one which was anxious to get things moving. He rang the bell.
She came to the door.
“C’mon in. You’re the bank fellow, aren’t you? I’m sorry; I don’t recall your name?”
At that moment he realized he should have told her not to ask any questions at all. “Tom Hall” came to mind.
“Come on inside, Mr. Hall, Alan will be with you momentarily.”
Alan entered the front room. “Tom Hall. I couldn’t help but hear your name. I’m Alan Simburg. Alan. May I call you Tom?”
“Feel free.”
“Okay, Tom, follow me.”
Bobby was hoping the man would lead him to some interior room because some neighbor just might be looking into the exterior ones.
Luckily, Alan led him to a library which fit the bill. “In here.”
The room was lined with red mahogany stained, Queen Anne period, full bookcases, with simple and graceful curves. In the center stood a large desk, like a grammar school teacher’s in the 1950’s and four differently styled chairs. The largest was behind the desk. The remaining three were on the other side of it. A Mariner’s hurricane styled lamp sat on the desk, which had papers strewn about. There didn’t seem to be anything else in the room, except a few variously sized Persian rugs placed randomly on the floor. Bobby couldn’t read the book titles, but they were very neatly kept, a mixture of hard cover and paperback. Overall, the room had a soft, warm, neat, busy and questioning feel. Complicated.
Alan offered, “This is really my wife’s room, right, Kelly?
I rarely read a thing.” He was about to offer Bobby a seat when he turned and saw a gun pointed right at him. He didn’t know guns, but it looked big enough to do some damage.
Bobby said; “This is a loaded gun, pal. Relax; I don’t want to use it.” Alan was dumbfounded and speechless. “Okay, Alan, I’d like you to turn around and put your hands behind your back. I’m going to cuff you.”
Alan: “Why cuff me?” not offering his arms.
Bobby: “Because this is a loaded gun, you stupid fuck. I just want to talk to you for a few minutes, then I’ll release you.”
Alan: “I don’t like this.”
Bobby’s worst possible scenario fears popped into his mind.
“This jerk questions and talks back to a loaded gun. This could be difficult.” He said; “You’re not supposed to like it.” He put the gun against the back of Alan’s head after smacking it slightly off his ear. “Give me those fucking arms now.”
Alan complied. Bobby slipped on the cuffs with his left hand and held the gun in his right. “Take a seat.”
Alan chose a Mission type, which was angular and severely utilitarian, with a light finish. It was good enough that it could have been done by Stickley, but this was a copy.
Kelly brought over the clothesline. Bobby put the gun down on the desk and they proceeded to tie Alan to the chair he had chosen.
Alan: “Kelly, what are you doing?”
Kelly: “I’m with him. Don’t worry. We’re both on your side.”
Alan: “Nice way to show it.”
Bobby: “Okay, Alan. Let me have your attention. You’re going to hear some things you might not want to hear. But if you think about them a while, you’ll see you’re getting the best possible deal.” Kelly and Bobby nodded at each other. “I was sent here by the mob to kill you. I’m a hit man, among other things. By chance, Kelly found out and insisted that I not do it. I agreed. I can keep my employers happy if I give them the loan money rather than your corpse. So here’s the deal of your life. I’ll straighten you out with the mob completely. You divorce Kelly, give her $100,000 and make sure that $5,000,000
insurance policy is paid up. This will be handled by an attorney representing Kelly. And Kelly will keep all her books, CDs and records, on the spot recalling that Alan had described the library as Kelly’s room.
Kelly smiled when she heard the consideration. Things had been going so fast she forgot about them.
The room was silent for about five seconds.
Alan: “What’s in it for you, Tom?”
Bobby: “Not your concern.”
Alan: “It’s Kelly, isn’t it?”
Bobby: “Kelly and I share some mutual interests, but that’s irrelevant to you. Will you accept the best business deal of your life or not?”
Alan sat quietly, apparently mulling over the situation.
In 15 seconds or so, he said; “How can I be sure that you’ll pay off my loans?”
Kelly: “Bobby, if you keep answering him, we’ll be here all night and get nowhere.”
Alan: “Bobby!!?? You told me your name was Tom. That really helps giving me a lot of faith in your word. Now, I don’t even know whose word it is.”
Bobby considered how he wanted to answer that. He couldn’t think of any easy short reply, so he decided not to make any response at all. He also was starting to see that with this
guy, the more words he said, the more tangents Alan would pursue. He stood silently, slightly shaking his head.
Kelly walked slowly with her head to the floor and sat in the “teacher’s chair” on the other side of the desk. It was hard to tell if its style was associated with any particular movement. It was sturdy, on the large side, with a weathered, light finish. One might use the word patina. Its authoritarian size was tempered by rounded edges. On the back top rail was a black magic marker drawing of a dog’s head, with the name
“Willy” written underneath. He had a very silly expression and big, smiling eyes. The desk itself was similar to the chair, with three drawers on each side and one in the middle, all with Victorian hardware, perhaps a bit ostentatious. A closer inspection, if done, would reveal that some of the hardware was loosely attached. There was a kneehole in the middle where a student could see the teacher’s legs. Unfortunately, the current occupant was wearing pants.
Kelly: “Alan, forget about his fucking name. As far as you’re concerned ‘Killer’ will suffice. So let’s first come to some basic agreement.”
Alan: “You’re on his side completely, aren’t you?”
Kelly: “Stop saying delaying, irrelevant things that you’ve already been told. Bobby is a hit man sent here to kill you. If I hadn’t accidently intervened, you’d be dead already, I’d be getting five million dollars and Bobby would be plus $150,000 instead of having to pay your mob loans. You tell me who the winner here is measured by your own standards. We really don’t get along. We annoy and have no appreciation for each other. After your money situation is fixed, you can get a more suitable show wife.”
Alan: “I don’t know where I’m going to get a show wife. I won’t be left with that much money!”
Kelly, obviously annoyed: “Buy one from fucking Taiwan!
You know, you’ve reminded me of some old joke where the armed holdup man says ‘Your money or your life!’ and the reply is ‘Let me think about that a while.’”
Alan actually laughed at the old joke, seeing the point, but he also absorbed the truth that made it funny. He said nothing.
Kelly: “Bobby, let’s give him some privacy for a while and let him think about it.”
She led Bobby into the adjoining kitchen. He was surprised how quickly she took charge of the situation. The shared door was left open, to keep an eye on Alan.
Kelly: “I’m afraid something bad is brewing. If he delays long enough, he might figure a way out of the ropes; someone might come to the door; or other things I can’t think of might happen. Time must be considered. The point is, if stupid gets free, we’re both in deep shit and some other hit man is going to get him anyway. We’ll all lose.”
Bobby: “I think you’re right.”
Kelly: “So what do we do now?”
Bobby, laughing: “Let me kill him. It’ll look like a mob hit. They’ll investigate for a short time and then turn it over to the Feds, who will add this to their list of unsolved crimes.”
Kelly: “Let’s just sit here a while and give him some time to think about it.”
Bobby: “You have real fire in your eyes when you get mad.
It turns me on.”
Kelly: “Now I’m stuck with two stupid guys. How can you think about that at a time like this?”
Bobby just shook his head, with a faint smile. They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes, eyeing Alan through the door.
Bobby: “Ready.”
Kelly: “Yeah.”
Bobby: “If Alan starts negotiating again, let me handle it.”
They walked back to the library. The ropes prevented Alan from moving much and he was glumly sitting, looking at the floor.
Alan: “I’m beginning to understand your position. If I get a Taiwanese wife, she’ll be younger and do what I tell her.”
Bobby: “Is that a yes?”
Alan: “Closer to yes than before.”
Bobby: “What else do you want?”
Alan: “More money. You know yourself Kelly is worth her weight in gold. Besides paying off my loans, I want a million.
Business is lousy, you know.”
Kelly immediately deduced that Alan was opening another front. She thought; “He’s trying to put Bobby in the position
of saying that I’m not worth the money. If Bobby plays into it, Alan thinks that this could be a possible rift between us.” To counteract the new ploy, she said firmly to Bobby; “Don’t pay it.”
Bobby: “In the kitchen.” He grabbed Kelly around the shoulders and led her there.
Bobby: “This time I need to think about it.”
Kelly: “Think about what? He’s just continuing his bullshit game. He hopes we’re dumber than he is.”
Bobby: “What can I do? We should settle everything as quickly as possible. You said so yourself.”
Kelly: “Shoot him in the leg, or maybe even a more useless part.” She laughed.
Bobby: “You said no shooting.”
Kelly: “I said no murder.”
Bobby: “What makes you think this will do any good?”
Kelly: “It worked in some old B movie.”
Bobby laughed. The more he learned about this girl, the more impressed he was. He said; “The problem is, if we shoot
and leave him alive, not only will we be caught, but they will have a serious, easily provable charge against us. Hey, I’ve got an idea. Lean over.” He whispered; “Let’s play as if we’re having an argument in here. I’ll be saying, ‘Let’s just kill the fuck’ and you’ll be saying, ‘Let’s give him one more chance.’”
Kelly, loudly: “No, you can’t.”
Bobby, loudly: “What’s to stop me? It’s the easiest way out for both of us.”
Kelly, loudly: “I don’t care.”
Bobby, loudly: “Well, maybe I’ll kill you, too.”
Kelly, loudly: “I’ll ignore that coming from a loudmouth.
Okay, can you just shoot him in the ass or something?”
Bobby, resolutely: “The next time I get any crap, I’ll shoot him in the fucking kneecap and he’ll be crippled for life.
If I still get crap, I’ll take out the other knee cap. The Taiwanese bitch will have to carry him to the toilet.”
They both smiled at each other, then she actually started to laugh out loud, but put her hand over her mouth and the sound resembled a cough. He grabbed her around the shoulders again.
Bobby: “You’re absolutely fantastic.”
Kelly just smiled at him and shook her head from side to side, with her hand still over her mouth.
Alan was thinking; “If I say that I’ll take the deal, my loans will be paid. I can then go to the police and say that these two threatened my life. They probably have other things against him already. Best of both worlds. It’s worth a shot.”
What he didn’t know was that if he reneged on a deal made with someone connected to the mob, he would be hit. Period.
Bobby and Kelly again entered the library.
Alan: “The more I think about it, the more I like the deal.
I’ll take it.”
Bobby: “Good man. I thought that the longer you pondered, the more your head would clear. These are pretty big decisions and you must be shocked having them sprung on you so suddenly.”
Alan: “I see everything your way now.”
Bobby smiled at him.
Alan couldn’t fight his nature long and was compelled to try to get more. He said; “Except the one hundred thousand. I
think it was payment to Kelly for the divorce. You know, business hasn’t been blockbuster.”
Kelly: “Son of a bitch. You can get it if you want. We need it.” She walked to the “teacher’s seat” and fell into it, staring at Alan.
Bobby needed to sit. Kelly would handle it for a while.
He chose the plushier chair. It had been a long day and it appeared far from over. The chair was, like the bookcases, of the Queen Anne variety, more obvious in this case due to the gently curving cabriole front legs, minimal adornment save the worn front knee carvings. It too was stained a red mahogany, weathered much like Kelly’s chair. The top was curved, with a flower pattern for the splat. The upholstered seat was a well-worn pattern of faded lines, an inch wide, colored red, yellow, green, purple, white, orange, black, blue, brown and some indescribable colors in between, separated by gold lines. It must have been very appreciated in its time. Now stains covered about 20 percent of it. A good upholsterer could do wonders.
Alan to Kelly: “You have no concept of money. You just don’t wish it there.”
Kelly: “Okay, Alan,” she said calmly. “Let me state the fairness of the deal once more: You give up me and $100,000.
You get the mob loans paid. You’ll be alive. I give up the five million dollar insurance payment, my rights to whatever assets you have and my rights to a portion of your income. I get this jerk over here,” smiling and pointing at Bobby, “who is saddled with a three million dollar debt and gave up the $150,000 he would have gotten for simply killing you and I keep my books. All we want is $100,000 to start a new life. What, in what I described, is wrong or unfair to you?”
Alan: “Maybe I can get $40,000, but then I’ll be really strapped.”
Kelly just looked away in disgust.
Bobby: “You got the deal. $40,000 it is.”
Alan: “I said maybe.”
Bobby thought, he did say maybe, I’m getting over anxious:
“Yes, you did.”
Kelly: “Let me try to make this as simple as possible one last time. If you are killed, you are dead and I am rich. I’m giving up plenty to be nice to you, for no good reason.”
Alan just stared.
Bobby to Alan: “Kelly and I have some things to talk about in the kitchen. You think real hard about what we’ve said.
Time for conversation is over.”
Bobby rose, walked over to Kelly and offered his hand. She took it, got up and they again went to the kitchen.