Peril By Streetlight | Chapter 2: Appointment with the Accountant

Peril By Streetlight

Chapeter 2

by Joseph Salvatore Knipper

Swipes and I took the M04 bus across and then downtown. He tried to make nervous small talk, but I've always enjoyed silence as much as scotch when I'm on a case. I had some big thinking to do, from which approach to use with B.B., to where to find an Argentinian con-artist, to how to break it to Swipes he was in no position to take care of an addled child. After about 30 minutes, Swipes signaled for us to get off, and I got my first look at S Street.

It was a vibrant neighborhood, to say the least. Colorful clothes hung drying from every fire escape, and kids shouted and ran playfully in the street. Produce spilled out of stores, and shopkeepers greeted pedestrians as they passed.

“This place doesn't look so bad.” I said. “I thought you said some big-time mafioso ran this street.”

“He does, but he also lives here, Dora. Bosses don't like messes in their own backyard. He treats this neighborhood nice. Keeps the air sweet. The trouble happens in other places.”

“You'd be suprised how few mob bosses have that sort of discipline.' I said.  "So where can we find him?”

“Well, I can't go straight to him. We gotta make an appointment with his ummm, accountant”

“I don't talk to subordinates. Where's this B.B.?”

“I'm telling ya, Dora. You gotta do this proper!”

“Keep your voice down, will yah. For safety's sake, call me Dee when we're out in public.”

“I thought you wanted B.B. to know who you are.”

“I do, but just you and B.B. Not everyone.” I looked up and down the street. "Fine, where is this 'accountant'?”

Swipes pointed to a building with a sign out front that read 'Fortune Teller' in bold pink letters. “He works in the back office there.”

I moved across the street with Swipes tailing behind, and entered into some sort of curio shop. A young girl in a too-large fortune teller's outfit sat behind a a crystal ball and incense burner.

“Welcome travelers!” she piped. “I see you have journeyed far seeking answers. A glance back at the inner mists, and I can tell you all!”

“Give it a rest, Abby,” said Swipes. “Is the bean-counter in?”

“Did you like the 'glance back at the inner mists part'? I worked on it all weekend”

“Yah, it was all fancy and obtuse. Can I see him or not?”

“You're all business lately, Swipes. He's in the back.” She gestured at the beaded curtain behind the counter.

“Thanks.”

Swipes led us to a windowless back room that was...delightfully exotic, if not exactly my style. Portraits of different European nobles from various eras covered the walls, framed by black velvet. Two piles of books sat on a large mahogany table, framing a pale man with a beak of a nose, dressed almost as elaborately as the highfalutin types in the portraits.

The man looked up.  “Ah, one Swipes Wagner and one unknown guest, come to pay me a visit, ah.” A cold voice echoed from the patrician face. “To what do I owe this, ah, singular pleasure?” His “ah” might have been his equivalent of “ummm” or it might have been a half-laugh, but it sounded like a sword being drawn.

“Heya, ummm, sir. This here is Do-”

“Dee Marks, PI” I said, holding out my hand. The accountant looked at me as if I were a cat who had just piddled on the carpet.

Swipes gently reached out and pushed my hand down, “The accountant doesn't touch people.”

“Okay,” I said, miffed. “Waddya want me to do, buddy, bow?”

“That will not be, ah, necessary,” the accountant said. He picked up a pen and (of all things) a monocle. Placing the monocle on his eye and placing the pen above a line in his ledger, he wrote the date. “Please state your business.”

“Dee here needs to see B.B.,” Swipes said.

The accountant wrote while speaking, “'One Dee Marks, Private investigator to request appointment with one Don Ucello'....regarding?”

“Errr....”

“Swipes botched the painting theft. I'm here to plead for the low-life's life and get the painting back,” I said.

The accountant didn't bat an eye, but he did pause for a moment in what might have been surprise at my directness, (or he was just charmed by my dazzling beauty). “...'regarding special business venture #0406 complications. Additional expenses possible.' Yes, most wise that you see him, ah, posthaste.” He closed that book and flipped to another that looked like a day planner, then took out a legal pad and scribbled a note, “'To one Frau Kraus, your 2:30 appointment with one Don Ucello is hereby rescheduled to 2:30 next week.'” He scribbled another note saying the same thing, but addressed to Don Ucello, adding “'to meet with one Dee Marks, Private Investigator, and one 'Swipes' Wagner regarding special business venture #0406 instead.'” He handed both notes to us. “Please leave the first note with my receptionist on your way out, and she will have it delivered at the cost of, ah, 50 cents, which will be deducted from your fee, Swipes. You will find Don Ucello at Hooper's.”

Swipes took the notes as if they were our writs of execution. “Thanks.”

“You are welcome,” replied the accountant mechanically, “You have, ah, 16 minutes and 29 seconds to be on time for your appointment. Goodbye.”

“See ya,” I waved and followed Swipes out.

Back in the fortune teller's shop, Swipes handed one of the notes to Abby. “The bean-counter says have one of the boys run this over to Frau Kraus post-haste, but don't pay them more than 50 cents.”

“Will do!” piped Abby, staring into her crystal ball and practicing waving gestures.

“I mean it, Abby. She's probably on her way to see B.B. now, and we need to see him.”

“Alright, alright. You're no fun anymore Swipes.” Abby hopped down from her stool and grabbed the paper. “There's usually a few playing next door who are always happy to make a quarter or two,” Abby explained to me, as she opened a side door into an alley revealing a pile of tussling boys. “You!” she shouted at no one in particular, “Run this over to Frau Kraus without ripping it, and there's a shiny quarter in it for you. Two quarters if you get it to her right now.” The entire pile of boys untangled itself and rushed at her. The paper was yanked violently out of her hand, and the boys disappeared from the alley, running after the victor.

Abby closed the door. “Shouldn't you scurry too? If you got an appointment that quickly, it can't be good news you're giving him.”

“Yah, we should get out of here. Come on, Do—Dee.”

“Alright,” I said as we stepped out into the sunshine, “that guy was weird.”

“The bean counter? Yah, he makes me nervous, but he's a barrel of laughs compared to B.B. You sure you up for this negotiation?”

“Am I gonna drop the ball, you mean? Nah,I know how to handle guys like B.B.”

“Great, Hooper's is down the block a bit. Come on.” Swipes shoulder relaxed a little. I was gratified that my reassurances worked. And they weren't all bluff. Mafia bosses, in my experience, valued three things. The smart ones put loyalty first, money second and pride third. The dumb ones put pride first and everything else after. Seeing this neighborhood, I was convinced that B.B. was one of the smart ones. If Swipes approached him directly with a solution, he'd have the best chance of saving his tail.

Swipes let me down the street to the largest of the many general stores. An elderly man with bow tie and suspenders was working behind the deli counter. Swipes and he nodded to each other, but Swipes kept walking back to the 'Employees Only' door.  He knocked in an irregular rhythm, and a slot opened to reveal a pair of large brown eyes.

“'One of these doors is not like the other',” said the voice behind the door.

“'Beware to those who don't belong'” intoned Swipes “We've got an appointment, Ernie. Open the door.” Swipes held up the note.

The brown eyes scanned the note, “Who's the broad?” Ernie asked.

“A dame the boss will want to hear from.”

“She with you?”

“No, Ernie, she just happened to show up at the door at the same time. Yes, she's with me!”

The brown eyes looked hesitant.

“Ha” I interrupted, “I ain't with nobody. Swipes is with me. And together, we can save your boss a lot of hurt feelings and a lot of green.”

That did it.  The door swung open into darkness. I moved to go in but Swipes grabbed my forearm and held me back for a second. “You sure you wanna do this, Dee?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“You're asking now?”

“Last chance. You can still back out and I can say you were just some clingy broad who I met last night. After this, whatever happens to me might happen to you.”

“Aww, Swipes, I know you think you are being noble now..." I swatted his hand away, "but actually you're just being selfish. You're trying to reassure your conscience--in case everything goes wrong--that you gave me every opportunity to back out. Well, I don't think everything will go wrong, but I'll ease your conscious for you: my fear of death got pilfered a long time ago.”

Swipes couldn't decide whether to ask a follow up question of defend himself.  I didn't give him a chance to decide which.  Chin held high, I stepped boldly through the doorway into the lair of Don Ucello.

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This is a work of parody based on characters not owned by Joseph Salvatore Knipper, but all original aspects are owned by Joseph Salvatore Knipper.    Thanks for reading.  Please don't forget to follow our Facebook page and subscribe to this blog.