Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 3
He woke at 6AM, like any other work day, walked to the fast food place for breakfast and brought it back. He noticed that the office was closed. He had contradictory thoughts. He hoped to see Kelly because he was fascinated by her and he didn’t want to see Kelly, because it would, undoubtedly, hinder his work.
While sipping his coffee he opened his dossier. It was a manila folder full of loose papers, containing information about the intended victim.
Alan Simburg. 60 years old. Residence: 239 White Horse Lane, Castillo, NM. Home phone: 505/890-3215, business: 505/890-4288. There were three recent photos showing Simburg to be of medium height, chubby, paunchy, about 230 pounds, with a fleshy, bearded face covered by a bald head with some “Friar Tuck” gray hair around the edges.
He thought, “First sign of a possible problem. Many men fit this general description. Also, they often have something covering their head. So, rule out doing the job in any public place, as it was possible to pick the wrong one. So, focus on
the house and car, as the most desirable possible locations for the deed.”
The dossier continued; Married to Kelly. 40 years old.
Residence: 239 White Horse Lane, Castillo, NM. Home phone: 505/890-3215. No available photos. She has black hair, wears glasses, stands about five foot four, 120 pounds and is considered very attractive.
There are no children and or other household residents.
Alan Simburg is the only target. Some information is provided only for your information and guidance. Bobby stopped reading what he thought was unnecessary detail and instead his mind flipped over to; “Could this possibly be the same Kelly he just met? He certainly hoped not, for two reasons; 1) He was falling in love with her and, pragmatically, 2) She could identify him.
The probability is that there are many different Kellys in the area, as that is not an uncommon name for women. Some men, too, for that matter. I didn’t realize it previously, but Bobby, is also used by both sexes, but seldom in women. Most disturbingly, the description, in words, for whatever they are worth, fits her pretty well.”
“My Kelly also said that her husband’s business probably wasn’t doing well. In that scenario it’s not unheard of to
borrow mob money, not pay it and then I get called. But, she is about 30, I think.”
Bobby never really knew with certainty what his victim’s sins were and he didn’t care. He would just get a phone call to see if he wanted work and a number to call back with a report, if necessary. But, perhaps to keep his mind occupied, instead of doing a crossword puzzle, Bobby was always compelled to guess at what they did, based on their looks, way of carrying themselves, manner of speech, clothes, where they lived, etc., etc. It usually didn’t take long to draw some conclusion, though he had no means of or interest in verification.
However, in this case he needed the certainty. He had to know if this was the Kelly he knew, because the last thing he needed was someone who could make a good description of him. On previous jobs he made as little contact as possible, but this time something had propelled him to act flirty with this girl, standing alone, reading something. And the more he saw, talked to and thought about her, the more intrigued he became. He realized that she already had him thinking in circles. Or, maybe he was creating his own circle. The only practical thing to do was to find out for sure. He could do some surveillance or ask her directly. There were other more indirect methods,
too, but they need not be evaluated until the first two options were quicker and time was of the essence.
The second problem: How does he avoid a possible good description? Even if there were two or more different Kellys, he was probably close enough to the job site that people might be questioned about strangers in the area. Possible solution: Again, the same answer as problem number one: Find out about Kelly. Overnight this girl had become the center of his life.
He could also consider altering his appearance, though this was not necessarily a good solution, if Kelly was his Kelly. She had not seen him in sunlight. Perhaps he could wear different clothes, a headband or hat, et cetera. But, this approach would necessitate that he never see Kelly again and that she would choose not to make him famous. Fat chance. Come to think of it the first problem, whatever the attempted solution, would suggest the same logic, unless he was missing something.
So after finishing breakfast, he got into his car and went to the gas station. He started the pump, went inside the building and said, “Excuse me, do you know where Castillo, NM is?”
The 18 year old kid said, “You’re lucky enough to be in it.
Who are you looking for?”
The answer and question confirmed his worst fears, but he retorted, “No one, really. I just read something about it in a book about Indians and wanted to see it. Do you have a local map?”
“Sure, they’re free. Take the local paper and there’s one in the middle.”
“Thanks.” He took one and left. He now knew the penalty for not knowing where he was while tired on the road. He should have taken the trouble to find out. He felt like a stupid beginner.
Third problem: Strike three? He just made more local contact. He usually stays a few towns away from the job. This was getting annoying and very risky. He could blame two of the problems on being rushed, but at least one was his own mistake.
A harder evaluation would say that two problems were his own fault, but one seemed uncontrollable. He shouldn’t have stopped when he didn’t know where he was and he shouldn’t try to mix business with pleasure, as intoxicated as the latter now seems.
He surveyed the map in the car and proceeded to 239 White Horse Lane. As soon as he saw the road he yelled “Shit!” out loud. It was a single lane, dead end, dirt road, with four houses on it, 239 being the last one.
Fourth problem: He couldn’t do any surveillance without risking attracting more attention. This simple semi-rural hit has become a minefield. The only safe solution that seems available is to quit the job. However, when orders are given and accepted in his business he had never heard of any turning back. It may be tantamount to suicide.
He slowly drove down the road, observing the houses, who was there, dogs and generally, whatever could be a hazard to getting in and out. When he got to the end of the road, he saw his Kelly standing in front of a large, one story Southwestern style, flat roofed house. It was stucco finished a very dark brown. Some of the external features advertised that it was not made of adobe as tradition would dictate, but some cheaper modern day substitute. The plentiful windows, some very large, were trimmed with a yellowing white plastic material. The metal front door was painted black. The front of the property was devoid of any trees or bushes, but exhibited a meticulously maintained lawn. One could see many different trees towering above the house in the backyard, or maybe it was from a neighbor’s property. The other three houses on White Horse Lane could not be seen from the road at all, the only evidence of their existence being a dirt driveway as opposed to 239’s paved one. Alan and Kelly’s house seemed to say; “I want everyone to
see and admire all of my obvious success." Bobby started to wonder if he had misjudged Kelly. It had happened all too many times before.
He turned around at the end of the driveway to leave, without Kelly looking his way. She probably just thought it was another car making a wrong turn, or another group of people paying homage. Though he hadn’t considered himself a lucky person in years, maybe never did, he couldn’t help thinking that, with some good luck, he could kill her husband and take Kelly. He felt overdue and he also realized he was fantasizing.
He told himself to focus on the job. He didn’t need any more problems, or else he would be pondering them from a prison cell.
However, she is part of the job. This is getting extremely confusing. Time for a little talk with God?