Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 15
Bobby got back home to his apartment in Jersey City. He had sold off the farmhouse property shortly after Monica’s death. Besides not wanting to be there with the memories any more, it was more business efficient to be in Jersey City. With a good number of people around, no one in particular gets noticed and with the presence of mobsters and would be mobsters, people learn to mind their own business.
It was already dark, so he just climbed into bed and planned to set out for Great Neck in the morning. Great Neck had a lot of very well to do people as it was a short trip into Manhattan, yet fairly private and on the water. He remembered that Blue Oyster Cult grew up there and years ago, he knew a freaky girl who lived there with her parents. So, based on his limited knowledge, he thought that a suitable approach to Mr.
Wehrle might be to attempt to appeal to his powers of reason.
Heavy handed stuff was out.
He must have fallen asleep as the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the gray wooden floor of the porch at his old
country house. It was dark, but he could see Kelly walking with two dogs in the woods about a mile away. His instincts said that they knew each other, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t think that Kelly wanted to see him, as she looked in every direction except his. More importantly, his gut instinct said that this girl wanted to be left alone. He had some firecrackers, lit them and wanted to throw them over her head. Miraculously, he was successful in throwing them over a mile and they exploded fifty feet over her head, annoying the hell out of her. He repeated this a number of times. She angrily walked toward his house and when seeing him still sitting in the darkness said;
“Are you throwing firecrackers.” He still wasn’t sure if she thought that she knew him and wanted her to like him, but he sarcastically replied; “No one can throw them that far.” She stared at him for a few seconds, still obviously annoyed. Then, she seemed to soften her expression, climbed the two steps up to the porch and proceeded to turn on the switches to five porch lights, he previously didn’t know existed.
He woke up, wondering what this could possibly mean. He got some ideas about firecrackers and lights being turned on.
The depressing thought of Kelly, possibly not waiting for him, made its ugly presence known. He lay there in the darkness and saw things from a “realistic” viewpoint. He wouldn’t be seeing
or talking to her for a month and a lot can happen in that much time, especially since they didn’t really know each other that well yet. He decided; “To hell with the thought. I’ll trust my instincts.” The entire reflective process caused his hunger to become more apparent. He went into the kitchen and got some food and ice tea. After eating and drinking, still a bit puzzled, he went back to bed and dreamlessly slept.
When the morning came, he stopped at the post office and checked his box. The promised dossier was there. He drove out to Great Neck. He tried not to think about anything other than his new assignment. After his last experience, he didn’t want any diversions. He thought; “Concentration is the name of every game.” He checked into another motel. It seemed as if he had spent the bulk of his recalled life in them and he had lost the ability to differentiate between the monotonous single story structures, with one exception. The first thing he did was to get an early lunch and bring it back to the motel, where he opened the dossier.
Donald Wehrle (pronounced whirly): 32 Mockingbird Road, Great Neck, Long Island, New York. Age 46. Married to Barbara, age 42. Occupation: Vice President at Chase Manhattan Bank.
Two children, both boys, aged 18 and 20. The 20 year old was away at college and had been in minor trouble regularly. He
owes $200,000 and has no means to pay. He will likely soon be incarcerated for trying to sell coke to an undercover cop.
Bobby looked through the many photos provided.
When he finished eating, he took a drive to view the house.
It was large, probably about 4500 square feet, modern style, a bit severe to his taste. It was in a neighborhood of similarly sized houses, done in different styles, all very well-tended.
They appeared to be situated on at least half an acre each, with a fair number of mature trees and water views. The general overview was that the area looked expensive and sophisticated.
There were a few stylish foreign cars parked in driveways.
Bobby just drove around the area and those adjacent to it to get a general feel and to see how easily he could get to a major road, in case he had to make a hurried exit, for some reason. Since Long Island was appropriately named, being long and narrow, virtually everything is reasonably close to the main highway, which runs the center. As expected, access to the Long Island Expressway was no problem. He decided to make his approach late Saturday afternoon. Hopefully Donald would be relaxed and more receptive to some things he might not want to hear after a busy work day.
Bobby entered the driveway at 3PM on a sunny, warm, beautiful fall day and found Mr. Wehrle in the driveway, either getting into or out of his newer green Volvo. He was probably around six feet tall, 230 pounds, medium length light brown hair and beardless. Bobby parked his car behind Mr. Wehrle’s and got out.
Mr. Wehrle stood straight up, probably attempting to advertise his size and succeeded in showing how well he ate.
Bobby slowly exited his cream Toyota, put both hands behind his back and grimaced, as he played as if he needed to go through some ritual to straighten himself out. He smiled at Wehrle and said; “What a drag it is, getting old.”
His prey raised his eyebrows, ignored the opening line and offered, “May I help you?”
Bobby saw that there was no need to feign friendliness and in a businesslike tone said; “Excuse me, my name is Tony Lotito and I have something important to discuss with you about your son.”
Wehrle sarcastically replied; “I guess my secretary forgot to jot down the appointment.” He then efficiently said, as if he were trying to end his intrusion as soon as possible; “What do you want to discuss?”
“I’m sure you know about the broken cocaine deal. I’m not sure if you know that he borrowed the money to finance the deal from some very bad people.”
Wehrle’s voice softened, perhaps because he heard something new and said; “No, I didn’t know, but the possibility crossed my mind. That kid has been in more trouble than I ever imagined possible. It started his senior year in high school. I really have no control of him at all.”
“The problems are starting to close in on the very serious category now. It looks like this will eventually lead to some prison time.”
“The lawyer advised the same.”
“What the lawyer may not have advised you is that under the circumstances, your son is likely to get hurt when he gets to prison.”
“No, he didn’t mention it. What can I do about that?”
“The question really is; what can we do about it. If the bad guys were made whole, they could see to it that he wouldn’t be hurt.”
“How can they do that?”
“Easily. All they have to do is put out the word and no one will bother your son. His stay will be as pleasant as possible.”
“Sometimes you say ‘we’ and sometimes you say ‘they’.
Whose side are you on?”
“I’ve never really thought about it. My guess is that I am on my own side.”
“Contractor.”
“Contractor.”
“I appreciate your honesty. Let me think out loud for a second. I’m at wits end with him. My approach so far has been to not pay bail, so that he can experience some type of real punishment for a change. But I didn’t want it to be that severe. How severe would it likely be?”
“In addition to general harassment and occasional beatings, he’d likely be called something like ‘girly Wehrle’ after he’s been there a while. When he gets out, the bad guys will still want their $200,000 plus interest. I don’t think there are many safe ways for him to come up with it.”
“I can confirm with my monster if he owes the money. If necessary I could come up with the $200,000, though not easily.
I’m not as rich as most of my neighbors. Tell me, though, how can I know that you are who you say you are and that you, we or they can protect my son?”
“I don’t really think I can prove my credentials. The people I work for don’t print business cards, publish direc-tories or sign notes. I see your point, though. I could be someone who knows the situation. Probably a few do. My goal could be to get $200,000 and go home. Can you suggest some manner of proof?”
Donald made a small smile. “I can’t think of any. Let me think about this a while. Can you come back at this time tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.” Tony extended his hand.
Donald hesitated at first, but shook it.
Tony proceeded to his car and left. He drove to the nearest phone and called Vinny.
“Yeah.”
“Vinny, it’s Tony. Too early to have the card game going?
“Ah, these fucking assholes want to sit around and bitch about the rules today. What ‘cha got for me?”
“I’ve got to check something with you. How easy is it for you to protect the kid when he’s in prison?”
“Real easy. But why?”
“I figured you would like to get your $200,000 back quickly and I think I can make a trade that costs you nothing. Besides, I don’t owe you a gigantic favor. I got on the job quickly and I thought this may be an easy way out for everyone.”
“You know, Tony, you’re not the one who makes the rules, right?”
“I know. I’m just a poor lawyer, arguing my case in front of the judge. I’m asking him to be practical and forget the letter of the law. Put in plain English, or whatever the hell you speak, ‘It works’. What do you say, oh great one?”
Vinny laughed, though he wasn’t sure if he was being ridiculed or deferred to. He suspected the former, but, more importantly, he wanted his money. He laughed when he said;
“Fuck you, Tony. I’ll take the deal.”
Vinny hung up and Bobby drove back to the motel, again bought some food and sat against the headboard absently watching
television. He put on some game show and watched people jumping up and down and screaming excitedly as they won $10,000. It was a perfect time for some weed. The day proved to be an amusing, pleasant one. He had another joint after dark and smirked at the “happy family” sitcoms until he dozed off, content with the world.