The Shrinking Nuts Case Page 12

CHAPTER 12

  YET MORE COMPLICATIONS

  Jane Fey met me at the door of Grisim’s seventh floor suites. She was dressed extra sexy instead of like a business woman. Besides looking crazy beautiful she looked tired and anxious. “Jake Simon, I’m so glad you came! John has been asking for you. What happened to you? Are you alright?”

  “Sure. You should see the other guys.” Actually, I felt perfectly fine, which was strange, since I should have still been in terrible pain since my run-in with Joe and the dwarves. It usually takes quite a while for cracked or broken ribs to heal. Based on past experience, I should have been in a hospital for at least a week, and then laid up home in bed for a couple more. But I wasn’t even sore. My clothes hadn’t recovered at all though, so I still looked more whipped than I felt, and I still hadn't gotten back to the appartment for my fedora. But I felt like I was in top shape, and figured I looked good enough to visit Grisim.

  I walked with Jane down the hall towards the big boss’s personal suite, admiring her legs and other nice accessories. That she had called Grisim ‘John’ instead of ‘Mr. Grisim’ or ‘Boss’ symbolized her new status. According to the local newspapers, she had been promoted from head of security to fiancé.

  That wasn’t the only change since list time I was here. We walked past several security folks that snapped to attention when they saw her. They were all new people, and none of them were trolls or giants. None of them were nifty blondes, brunettes, or redheads either, I noticed with disappointment: they were all guys. Despite his billions, I felt a pang of pity for Grisim. Jane Fey was a great, sexy broad, don’t get me wrong, but to go from bachelor billionaire to married man was going to be a big shock for the poor guy. At least I didn’t have so far to fall.

  Within Grisim’s inner-suite of rooms, Fey escorted me into the same office/lounge where Grisim had first talked to me and we shared those damned shrinking nuts. I made a silent vow to turn down any free snacks while I was there, though I was getting pretty hungry, and don't normally turn down stuff that's free, especially food or drinks.

  The man himself was sitting behind a big oak desk, wearing a robe. This is the first time I had seen him full size and normal looking since he first hired me. He was a medium sized guy in his mid-forties with short brown hair that had hints of gray. Pretty normal looking billionaire, I guess. He sort of half stood up and shook my hand when I came in, with a forced smile on his worried face. What the hell did a billionaire have to worry about, I wondered? Did he have the marriage jitters like I did?

  “Jake Simon, my rescuer, I’m so happy to see you, even though you look like a train hit you. And no hat again!” He sort of sat back down, but he must have had a couple of pillows on the seat, because he seemed to be sitting on a high chair. He was a youngish looking guy for someone over forty, but right now I could tell that something was bothering him.

  “Good to see you full sized again, Mr. Grisim. Yeah, I had a little difficulty earlier today, nothing serious though. Comes with the job. You should see the other guy. So, do you have another little problem that I can help you with?”

  “Yes, it seems that all of my problems did not cease at the conclusion of our last adventure, as I had assumed they would. I want you back on the case. Are you available?”

  I did the math. Let’s see, I already had a fifty dollar a day client and a crazy troll client. Could I somehow possibly also fit in a billionaire client? “I’m completely available. You want me working on your bank problems?”

  “Probably; it all seems to be somehow connected with the bank. Those two fellows that were arrested for that nasty shrinking business, they escaped I understand. That Mick fellow seemed to be the ringleader.”

  “He’s a mean one all right,” I agreed. “Probably him that’s at the root of it all.” I have a firm rule: always agree with billionaires.

  “Yes he’s our man, in my opinion,” Graham agreed. “Find him, and give him to the cops. That’s your job in a nutshell.”

  “OK,” I said. “Sure thing.”

  “There are elf cops now, have you heard of them?”

  “Sure. In my business you have to keep in touch with those kinds of things.”

  “There was one here to see me earlier, along with a police lieutenant named Marks. They said that this fellow Mick is an escaped troll. Not even human. A monster.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Troll or not, he’s up against the wrong man. I won’t stand for this business. You are to find him and feed him to those cops and elves.”

  “Good idea. What other problems have you been having lately, that have you so dead set against trolls?”

  He forced a smile again. “Sort of a minor thing really, after that shrinking business. It's also caused by evil troll magic, the elf told me.” He stood up and reached down into his robe. For one scary second I thought he was going to pull out his wang, but instead he pulled out the tail-end of a huge clump of brown hair. “The whole damn bank board has a bad case of fat hairy ass.”

  He laughed long and hard, and I was glad he started it, because there was no damned way I wasn’t going to be laughing. While Fey looked on awkwardly, we both laughed like crazy. When we had worn ourselves out laughing, his face suddenly sobered in a flash. “Sense of humor, Mick has, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Seems like it.”

  “Work him over good for me, OK, before you give him to the cops?”

  Grisim must have already forgotten what Mick was like. Ten of me would have had trouble working him over. But when money talks, I listen. “Sure, no problem,” I said, smiling.

  He reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a check, and handed it to me. “Your retainer. Double that when you’ve turned in the troll.”

  It wasn’t as big as the last check he gave me, but it was huge. “I’m your man,” I said, sincerely.

  After that I was dismissed, and Fey called a cab for me. “Just drive west, to the Motel-Six,” I told the cabbie. It had been a long day.

  Then I noticed the tail. It was the cops. They followed, block after block, never even attempting to catch up. “Change of plans,” I announced. “No motel tonight.”

  I had the cab drive me towards my apartment. The cops followed, but still made no attempt to capture me. The elf cops didn’t really want me, they wanted Mick. They had me working for them now, not against them, so they were simply following me, waiting for me to find Mick. Maybe they had a bug at Grisim’s, or maybe they just assumed that if I saw Grisim, that would get me to look for Mick. Or maybe they just figured I'd meet up with the troll. Either way, I was inoculated against cops for now. Hell, I was one of them, even if I wasn’t doped up on elf powder like they were.

  I had the cab do a short stop at my bank so that I could cash Grisim’s check. It was too much cash to carry around so I deposited most of it, but I did get a thick stack of fifties and twenties. I was smiling when I left the bank. Everything was clearer now, made simple by that great common denominator that measures everything: money. Everything had been reduced now to one simple thing: get the troll! Getting troll equals getting more big money. End of the story.

  Outside the apartment the cops and/or dwarves and elves sat in their car watching for my next move. I thought maybe I should walk over to their car and thank them, for letting me stay at my place without arresting me, and avoiding a motel bill. But I was too lazy.

  As I climbed the stairs to the apartment I was still smiling, it was all so simple. Help the elves, screw over the damn troll, and get more money. My wallet was so stuffed already that I had even given the cabbie a good tip, a first for me, cheap bastard that I am.

  Elaine was relieved to see me, though the cat cussed me out for showing up. But we had company. Vinnie was sitting in my recliner. Elaine retired to the kitchen so we could talk man-to-man.

  “We got business to talk over, Jake. Family business.”

  “Your Family is my family, Mr. Veracruz.”

  “The Family is very concerned
about elves and dwarves, Jake.”

  “Elves and dwarves?”

  “They’re taking over cops and government, Jake, especially around here.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “OUR cops and government, Jake.”

  “Our nation’s cops and government?”

  “Don’t be a sap. The Family’s cops and government. Cops and city council and judges and so forth throughout the greater New York area. That’s a big, vital Family investment, all those people on the inside.”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “Damn right it is. You think that taxes pay those people enough to live on? Not hardly.”

  “The Families are certainly doing their civic duty by bribing them then.”

  “And then some. That’s why it don’t make no sense for us to pay taxes; we skip the middle-man and give money direct to Government leaders. That’s real efficiency for you. Think of all the money that saves your average tax-payer! But the elves are screwing up the works by taking over our cops and our territory, it looks like. Our inside connections won’t even talk to us. What do you think that does to our credibility on the street?”

  “Can’t be good.”

  “Our street punks are losing confidence in the Families. It’s like the stock market you know, confidence is everything. Dealers ain’t dealing. Hookers ain’t even hooking. Our profits are dropping.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “So we wanted to find out what the elves are up to, and maybe return the favor. The word on the street is that they’re looking for trolls, and one troll in particular by the name of Mick."

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t particularly care. Whatever they’re doing, we’re losing money. The word is they get people to help them by using drugs or magic or something.”

  “Magic?”

  “That’s the word. And the word is this, Jake: you’re mixed up in it up to your eyeballs.”

  “Me?”

  “And by association Elaine, of course. She tells me that this troll Mick has hired you to help him. That right?”

  “Right.”

  “And that’s just what you got to do, Jake. The Family is watching you on this, not to mention the other Families. You ever hear the term ‘gang warfare’ Jake?”

  “Sure, I saw it in the movies or TV or someplace. Messy stuff.”

  “We’re damn close to that, Jake. Damn close. Families against elves, or cops, or even each other. Could be the worst mess since prohibition, and you and Elaine are right in the middle of it. You lift a little finger to help the elf cops, or the elf controlled cops, and you’re dead meat, that's a promise.”

  My jaw dropped open but no sound came out.

  “On the other hand, the elves and your old cop buddies will be pressuring you to help their side. In fact, I’m surprised you ain’t been made into one of their zombies by now. So I can appreciate that you’re in sort of an awkward position.”

  My jaw moved again but again no sound came out.

  “You don’t have to worry about Jake, Uncle Vinnie,” said Elaine. She had rejoined us at some point; damned if I know when. “He’s honor bound to help the troll. The troll is our new client.”

  “I'm honor bound to help the troll,” I managed, nodding my head weakly.

  Vinnie laughed, his mouth set in a cruel smile. “Honor? Jake don’t know what the fuck that means. But now I think he understands the situation from a practical point of view. This situation is Family business. You understand that now, don't you Jake?”

  I nodded my head. “Sure thing. No problem. Help the troll. Don’t help elves or cops. I get it. Nothing could be simpler.”

  Vinnie smiled again as he made for the door, like he believed me, or worse yet, like he didn’t, and was hoping for any excuse to kick my concrete encased ass into the East River. After he was gone I sank into my recliner in a mind-bent stupor.

  “Vinnie says you’ve been to see Grisim,” Elaine noted.

  “Vinnie knows too damn much.”

  “What did Grisim want?”

  “He wants us to help the elf cops get Mick.”

  “We can’t do that!”

  “No shit. But if I don’t, the cops will arrest me, and worse, we’ll miss an even bigger payoff from Grisim.”

  “Interesting situation.”

  “Too damn interesting.”

  “What else happened to you today?”

  I gave her a quick run-down. She took it all in calmly. “Young Zeke Feltstein is a good man; my folks use him sometimes,” she commented at one point.

  My eyes bulged, but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Zeke sure as hell wasn’t making a living off me. Or maybe indirectly he was? Were all the favors he did for me lately because of us being buddies, or because of Elaine’s connections? And did it matter?

  “I think we should just seek the truth,” Elaine said, whatever that meant. “We’ll seek the truth and let the chips fall where they may.”

  I tried to keep a straight face. Despite her background, which should have taught her better, Elaine was like that. Good, bad; black, white; lies, truth, or whatever, she thought they could all be worked out. “Sure, great. Seek the truth. Super idea.”

  “So what do we do next?”

  It was nearly midnight. “Go to bed,” I said.

  She smiled. “I think we should get some rest instead.”

  "No damn way," I grinned.

  ****