Reed Coleman - Hose monkey

“So, Donna, I hear you’ve been having some trouble lately. You want to talk about it with me?”

“I miss Cain.”

There it was, that immediacy and honesty, but it wasn’t lost on Marla that the Downs’ girl still couldn’t or wouldn’t make eye contact.

“I miss him too. He was one of the most special people I ever met.”

“He was more special to me.”

“You’re right. I think he was closer to you than anybody in the world. It’s very hard for any of us to lose-”

“He loved Frank more. He wanted to be like Frank.”

“Donna, I can’t speak for Cain, but maybe I would say that he felt one kind of love for Frank and one kind for you. Maybe the way you feel differently about Ken and about me.”

“I don’t love Ken or you.”

Point well taken.

“All right,” Marla said. “It hurts very much to lose someone we love, but I think it’s supposed to hurt. It’s a way for people to understand how much the dead person meant to us. We all understand how much pain you’re in, even the people at McDonalds know.”

“You don’t know!” Donna shouted, looking right at Marla for the first time. “I’m mad at him.”

“You’re mad at Cain? Are you mad at him because he died?”

“That’s stupid. He didn’t want to die.”

“So why are you mad?”

“The secrets he made me promise not to tell nobody.”

Tina stared at the documents in disbelief, but she was certain that was Frank’s signature on all the paperwork. Steven Mann, she thought, might be a lecherous old bastard, but he would never have been party to anything too shady. He made a few bucks from his dealings with Frank, but that was nothing in comparison to what he and his partners netted from the bigger, full service companies that pumped more oil in one month than Mayday had pumped in all the years it had been in business. Those big oil companies swallowed up their smaller competitors all the time. It was more cost efficient for them to buy out their competitors’ customers than to fight for them. “Are you sure this is right?” Joe asked. “He sold out to Black Gold Fuel, Inc., Steve Scanlon’s company?”

“That’s right. Mr. Scanlon and his lawyers sat with Frank and myself in the conference room right next door to this office. Why, does that surprise you?”

“You bet your ass I’m surprised,” Joe said. “Frank never mentioned selling out to me. And Steve Scanlon never mentioned he was interested in buying. Besides, Scanlon runs a much smaller operation than Mayday. Wonder where his money came from?”

“Well, Mr. Serpe, the secrecy does make sense. Maybe Frank was reluctant to tell you because he might have thought you’d be worried for your job. And Mr. Scanlon might have kept it quiet so to avoid a competitive bid. As to where he got his money.”

Bullshit! “I guess that makes sense.”

“When was this sale completed?” Tina wondered.

“Just before Frank was… About ten days ago.”

Joe thought he had found his answer. “And the proceeds of the sale went-”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Serpe, but Frank didn’t sell the company for cash to pay off blackmailers. If anything, it was quite the opposite.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Tina was curious to know.

“About half the proceeds have been used to fully fund the kids’ college tuition accounts and to establish a trust fund for each child. Another quarter was used to satisfy the remaining mortgage on the house, time share, cars and to pay off any outstanding debts you may have had. And any day now, Tina, you should be receiving a bank check for the remainder of the funds, less our fees. You’ve been well provided for.”

Tina lapsed into a stunned silence.

“Was it a fair price?” Joe asked.

“More than fair. Now if there’s nothing else…”

“Just one more question.”

“Yes, Mr. Serpe, I live to serve,” the lawyer moaned.

“What was the name of the law firm that represented Steve Scanlon during the negotiations?”

“Watson, Medford, O’Donnell amp; Stahl. Lois will give you their contact info on the way out.”

“They a big firm?”

“Very.”

“Too big for a two-truck operation like Black Gold Fuel?” The lawyer kept his cool, but doubt turned down the corners of his mouth.

“I couldn’t say. My duty is to serve my client’s interests. If you have questions for Mr. Scanlon, I suggest you ask him.”

Mann stood to usher them out of his office. The question and answer period was now officially at end. To Tina he offered yet another apology for his past indiscretion and expressed the requisite sympathy for her plight. To Joe he offered nothing but an expression of relief at seeing him go. As he left the office, Joe reached back, knocking the golf trophy out of its niche.

“What’s the name?”

“Schwartz, Detective David Schwartz,” Rodriguez said. “What a surprise, a guy named David Schwartz in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like finding a donkey named Sean O’Brien in Galway.”

“Or a spic named Juan Rodriguez in the South Bronx.”

“Very funny, Healy.”

“So this Schwartz guy jammed up or what?”

“Nah. I did you a solid, for old times sake.”

“You wouldn’t do a favor for your own mother, Skip.”

“I did plenty for yours.”

“Did she thank you, at least?”

“I couldn’t tell, her mouth was always full.”

Healy was glad to let his old partner rip him, even at his late mother’s expense. It was an aspect of the job he really missed, the sort of strange comradery and affection expressed through the exchange of insults. Oddly enough, the only times he’d felt comfortable since Mary’s death were the rare opportunities he had to talk to Skip and the times he spent with Joe Serpe.

“So, this Schwartz, what’s his deal?”

“They tell me he’s the bomb. You want to know something about the Russians, he’s your boy.”

“Thanks, Skip. I owe you.”

“You bet your ass you owe me. Remember who you call if there’s a case here.”

“How could I forget?”

“These secrets, Donna, what are they about?”

“Cain made me promise not to tell.”

“That’s very loyal of you, because I can tell how hard it’s been for you to keep them. You were a good friend to Cain. The best friend.”

“He loved Frank more.”

“But how about you, Donna? How did you feel about Cain?” Donna flushed red, turning away. That was answer enough. “There are some promises we keep forever,” Marla said. “There are some we can tell when people die.”

“But Cain didn’t tell me what kind of promise.”

“When people tell us secrets, it means they trust us.”

“I know that.”

“It also means they trust us enough to know when to tell.”

“I guess.”

“If it would help find the people who hurt Cain, then you should tell.”

“What if it was about Frank doing bad things?” Donna asked. “Cain didn’t tell anybody but me, because he didn’t want to get Frank in trouble.”

Silent alarms went off in Marla’s head. Confidentiality rules were very murky when it came to the mentally impaired. As important as Joe had become to her and as much as she wanted to help solve Cain’s murder, she would not sacrifice her career. She loved her work and the people with whom she worked. On the other hand, she didn’t want to waste days begging written permission from Donna’s legal guardian.

“Do you remember Joe from the oil company?”

“I’m mad at him.”

“Why?”

“Because he hurt Cain’s feelings. He made Frank take him off his truck.”

“I know that Joe feels bad about that, Donna. He-”