SCAM OF THE SCANDINAVIAN
Philip Wooldridge
Smashwords Edition 4.0, November 2010
Copyright 2009, 2010 Philip Wooldridge
*****
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Scam Of The Scandinavian is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents appearing in this work are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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*****
I was catching a late lunch on a rainy day down at Connelly’s Bar and Grill - club sandwich and a pint of house draft, my usual faire. That’s when she walked in the joint. Her name was Briget, though I didn’t know it at the time and never cared much about it afterwards. She was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with piercing green eyes that screamed ‘daddy issues’. She had a caboose that wouldn’t quit, and twenty pounds of mammary goodness packed into that little blue number that had all the boys gawking at her since the time her Aunt Flo first dropped by to bid a fine ‘how-do-you-do’.
I put my sandwich down on the plate and headed over to where Briget was seated. Cheap food and cheap women come around all the time, but I’d had all the chopped ham I could stomach for one afternoon. “Is this seat available?” I asked, touching the small of her back and motioning to the barstool on the left.
“If you’re taking it, it’s just gone off the market,” she said, as she offered her hand to me, “Briget Kevenderan … It’s Norwegian.”
“It’s silly and hard as hell to pronounce,” I laughed, taking the seat next to her and lighting up a cigarette.
“You’re adorable!” smiled Briget, obviously not taking my comment at face value, “And what would the nom de guerre of my suitor come-lately happen to be?”
Her promiscuity with the English language was already beginning to irritate me. "Michael McGorski. Call me Mick." I knew this would be a tortuous conversation.
"What a queer name you’ve got there, Mick. I’ve never heard anything like it before."
"And you never will again. It's an amalgam of my parents' last names."
"Tell me about them, won’t you?" she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder
"Well, Father was a filthy Irish drunk that likely bedded more sheep than skirts. Mother was a looker from one of those European countries that never hopped the Berlin wall after the big one."
“Sounds like she's quite the lady," she said.
"Quite the opposite. She was a loose in the pants floozy. The only intimate thing she didn't do with a fellow was kiss him square on the lips."
"Still,” she said, “Combining their surnames was a sweet gesture, Mick. You do it out of love?"
"No, out of loathing,” I said, “Hated them both. I left home at seventeen, and never looked back. Figure they're as good as dead."
"Then why keep their memory alive by taking on their names?"
"Miss Kevenderan,” I replied, “In all the years I've walked this stinking rock, I've learned there's no finer way to live your life than embracing the things and people that really strip your gears."
"Really," said Briget, with a curious smile. “As time goes by, I would expect one to move towards those things and people one has grown fond of.”
"Well, I’ve found there’s a dark side that exists in all of us and in the stars above which is much more powerful and seductive than the good.” I said, lighting a cigarette.
"Hmmm," she said, "That particular view on life might make a wonderful starting point for a fine picture show."
"Sure," I smirked, "And maybe some kid with a camera and a pocket full of dreams will make millions of dollars on the silver screen." I laughed. What the hell do dames know anyway? “Tell me, what brings a girl like you into a dive like this?”
“I was planning to meet my fiancé. He told me he’d arrive first to get a table in the back, but I suppose he’s stood me up again.” Her frustrated look became a smile as she placed her hand on top of mine. “And you, Mr. McGorski, why are you patronizing this fine eatery on such a dreary afternoon?”
Briget’s extensive vocabulary and incessant ramblings were starting to really get under my skin. She added insult to injury by rubbing the wrong part of my body, but to her credit, it was a start. “Just grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading back to the office. Keeping up with the dregs of this city builds up one’s appetite.”
“Are you a policeman?” she asked, drawing her hand back slightly.
“Something like that,” I replied, “Only better than those blue-bellied slobs. I’m a private investigator.”
“Really?” said Briget. Her face lit up and she reached for my hand, “You must encounter such interesting people. Discovering the truth about the world, fighting the good fight on your own terms ---”
I questioned Briget’s motives as I snuffed my cigarette in the ashtray in between us. “Alright, just what the hell are you getting at?”
“Well, I suspect my better half, Eugene Foster, is seeing another woman on the side. He’s constantly working late at his family’s printing press. I just don’t feel as if I’m as important to him as I once was.”
“Someone’s got to pay for that shiny rock on your finger,” I said, pointing to her engagement ring.
“Oh … that,” she scoffed, “Just a mere trinket to keep me hanging on. I need to know the truth about Eugene before we are married.”
“And you want me to get the goods on him?”
“Please, Mick, I’ll pay any sum to avoid my heart from breaking.”
I finished the last of my pint and sighed, “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. My fees are thirty-five dollars a day, plus expenses. You can start with today’s lunch.” I motioned for the barkeep to come over to our spot. “Frank, two double cheeseburgers and two slices of that rhubarb pie to go. That and my lunch are all on the lady today.” I gave him a wink and a smile. Frank shook his head and walked back towards the kitchen. “Don’t forget to tip. Frank Connelly runs a classy joint here.”
“I’ll cover it, and thank you, Mr. McGorski, for everything.”
“Thank me when I figure out what’s going on with lover-boy. Call my secretary,
Josephine, at Klondike 583. Give her all the details on your steady and we’ll meet at my office in a week.”
“I will. I’ll be in touch.” She rose eloquently from the barstool and headed towards the door. I glanced over my shoulder to get a last glimpse of her figure, and saw her blow a kiss my way as she exited.
The view of those gams strolling out the front door was interrupted by the undeniable aroma of Frank’s breath. “Why do you do it to them, Mick?” he barked. “What I wouldn’t give to have a girl like that?”
“I know precisely what you’d give to her,” I laughed, “Anything and everything. And until you stop will all that, you’ll always come up short in the ladies’ game.”
“But why do you have to treat them so badly? She’s breathtakingly beautiful, she seems sweet, and she looks like she comes from good stock. I just don’t understand it all.”
“That, my friend, is why you fail.” I tossed a half-dollar coin to Frank and headed towards the door. “Ditzy broad like Briget probably thinks that line would be an Oscar winner.” I said, as I turned up the collar on my trench coat and headed out into the rain.
*****
I could smell the jasmine in the air a block away as I headed towards Madam Wong’s massage parlor in Chinatown. Madam Wong, in actuality, was a just a name, a kitschy little gimmick to attract tourists and veterans. The joint was run by a Japanese lady named Suki Arita. Suki worked the military circuit near Tokyo for a year or so after the war. Some poor chump of a soldier married her and brought her back. They were only back in the States a few months before she left him. She took all his money, picked up the business again, and got herself lost in the underbelly of this city. But she was a good egg if you took her at face value, and didn’t try to fence her in or fall in love with her. I suppose that’s why, in a way, I loved her. There were no games between us; money was money, love was love. There were always clear boundaries with Suki, and maybe that’s what kept me coming back her way.
“Hello there, Mick,” she smiled as she embraced me. “Come on in. What did you bring for dinner this time?” She led me to the kitchen in the back.
“Double cheeseburger and a slice of rhubarb, courtesy of my new client.” I pulled out a chair and placed the food on the table. Suki got some plates and forks, then walked to the refrigerator for a couple of beers.
“Thank you,” she said as she popped the cap on one of the bottles and handed it to me. “So, what’ll it be, business or pleasure tonight?
“Besides the dinner, there’s a little bit of business I need your help on, Suki.”
“Talk to me, honey.”
“Dame named Briget Kevenderan. She’s convinced her lover is messing around on her.”
Suki laughed “What a silly name!” she said, slamming the palm of her hand on the table.
“And hard as hell to pronounce, I know,” I replied. “But she’s talking with greenbacks, so she’s speaking our language.”
“And where do I come in to all of this mess?”
“I’m going to do a little checking up on this fellow. Eugene is his name, Eugene Foster. Briget said he works at the family’s printing press. In a couple of days, I’ll need your help with a distraction. We’ll come walking down your street, heading to Chang’s Restaurant. You come walking the opposite way carrying a few boxes and some cash. You’ll bump into him in front of your place, dropping the goods and the money, and playing the damsel in distress. As Eugene is helping you pick up your belongings, I’ll say I spotted a business colleague of mine and leave him with you to handle the cleanup. A pal of mine will step around the corner and take a few photographs once I’m out of the picture. I’ll show the photos to Briget when I meet with her next week. She’ll be so distraught she won’t even look twice at my expense report. Never give a sucker an even break.”
“Sounds good.” Suki smiled and lifted her bottle to toast my plan. “And what of my expenses, Mick?”
“Well, I was thinking of getting my shutterbug friend some time with a couple of your girls in exchange for his work. What are you pondering for yourself?”
“Thirty-five up front. Twenty percent of all monies collected.”
“Suki, baby, come on,” I pleaded with a slight grin.
“No, ‘Suki Baby’,” she replied, “You know you need me to pull this off, I want to be compensated properly. I like you, Mick, I really do, but a girl’s got to make a living.”
“How’s thirty up front and ten percent of the rest?”
“Thirty … fine. Fifteen percent on the flip side.” Suki paused and a devious smile came over her face. “Plus dinner at a respectable joint, courtesy of the great Michael McGorski.”
“Will that complete your order, madam?” I said, sarcastically.
“Yeah, that’ll be all for now,” smiled Suki. “Never give a sucker an even break, right?”
“Right. Okay, you’ve got it.” The haggling was unnecessary. I knew Suki was in from the moment she toasted me – she couldn’t resist a con like this; it was in her blood. The back and forth thing was just a game we played. She would have dined alone with her thirty dollars and ten percent. I would have paid her thirty-five and twenty and taken her out for a steak. It was just how our chemistry worked out.
Suki finished off the last of her beer. “Let’s go. I’ve got to get back out front. We may have customers soon. Got to get my ladies ready.” She took my arm in hers and led me towards the front entrance.
“I’ve got to get back to the office myself. Give me a couple of days to pin everything down and we’ll set up a time for Eugene’s little Boy Scout adventure.”
We stopped at the front door. Suki hugged me tightly, and nested her left cheek into my chest. There was a long pause there, and we both took notice of it. We knew that if we were different – normal – kind of people, that moment, frozen in time, could have personified one hell of a romance. “So long, Mick,” she said as she kissed my nose and sprung herself back into the waiting room, sporting the staged smile that greeted so many men in Chinatown. “You call soon, okay?”
“I will, Suki. Be safe tonight.”
*****
It was about one in the afternoon, and I was working on the Kevenderan case after coming back from lunch. These two were quite the odd couple, I thought as I reviewed my files and notes I collected over the last couple of days. Eugene and Briget had been together over two years; how they ever got together in the first place was a mystery to me. Briget came from a very lucrative background; most of the men in her family were stock brokers. She moved to the city a couple of years ago to attend law school, but her real goal was finding a husband she could walk all over. Eugene graduated from Dartmouth with honors. He could have written his own ticket, but decided to return home and take the reins of the family printing press. He made enough money to keep himself and most any family that came along very comfortable. Then Briget came along. She was used to having it all and would accept nothing less. Eugene loved that dame so much he wouldn't think of having her come down from that ivory tower. So he worked his fingers to the bone, first when they were courting, then to buy that diamond ring, and now to find an apartment to her liking. The only comfort he afforded himself was lunch at Mabel’s Diner. What a poor, pathetic damn fool. Sometimes a great rack can make a good man crumble.
“Mr. McGorski,” Josephine said as she knocked on my office door, “There’s a gentleman by the name of Murphy here to see you.”
“Send him on back.” I cleared some space on the table for our conversation.
Murphy walked jovially through my office door. “Mick, how’ve you been? Long time, no see.”
“It has been, Murph. How’s life going for you?” I held up two glasses and Murphy nodded that he’d absolutely join me in a drink.
“Oh,
not too bad, I suppose. I’m working enough to pay the bills.
Jeannie’s gone to her mother’s for the next couple of
weeks.”
“Then this may be the perfect time for my
proposition,” I said. “I need a camera man, kind of an
undercover job in Chinatown.”
“I’m listening … I’m listening”.
“Tomorrow afternoon, around lunchtime, I’m going to meet a man named Eugene Foster outside his family’s press. He usually goes on his own to the same old place, but I’ll convince him to join me down at Chang’s. You wait for us on the corner of Fourth and Mulberry and wait. Eugene and I will pass you and I’ll tip my hat. Suki will be walking towards us and crash into Eugene with an assortment of packages. He’ll stop to help her pick up her things, and I’ll mention that I see a colleague I need to talk with real quick. You’ll hear me yell ‘Hey, John, wait up!’ and that’ll be your cue to come around the corner and start snapping. I want to get as many pictures as possible of Eugene handing money and presents to Suki, and I want them all to include the both of them and the Madam Wong’s sign.”
“Oh, that’s good, Mick,” laughed Murphy, “That’s really nice. What’s the job pay?”
“Well, as compensation for your time and trouble, Suki’s agreed to set you up with two of her girls. Seems like with Jeannie not coming back for a while, you’re in a position to have one really nice memory for yourself.”
“Oh, I like that, my friend,” said Murphy, “That’ll do just fine.” Men are stupid creatures, and, on occasion, I’m no exception. Normally a job like this would go for fifty, maybe seventy-five dollars. Introduce the fairer sex into the equation, and the most reserved of businessmen will transform into blithering idiots. Murphy could have had a week full of memories down at Madam Wong’s had he only thought with his brain. Instead, he sat across from me, a drooling simpleton. If only it had been a little quieter, I could have heard his turgid member twitch and knock at the front panel of my desk. Not seeing his hands during the course of our conversation made me feel, well, a little dirty.