TMB X: Office Sum-Up

It was about quarter to six when I finally pulled in at our office. Back at that bar, I’d been deep in thoughts eventually, working on the problems at hand as rationally as I could, but to no avail. Neither my girlfriend nor "Case C" I was to tackle this way, whatever ideas or thoughts I tried to wrench from my deadpan brain. So, in the end, I ended up at the office. Just great. I knew exactly what that would mean.

As soon as I'd closed the door behind me, I heard Judy's piercing voice. No telephone line in between to soften her vocal tone. Just ungracious reality to live up to.

"The Boss is waiting for you. In his office." She must have been waiting for hours on end to inform me instantaneously the moment I stepped in – I still had my hand on the door handle. As I turned around, I just catched her hand letting go of the shotgun under the table, and she gestured me towards the Boss's room. As if I didn’t know where it was.

"Thanks, Judy", with an indignant voice this time myself, trying to swallow my mood. "By the way, any chance you've come over this telephone-code of mine?"

"He's been waiting for nearly an hour now" was all she cared to answer. Judy had her merits. But perhaps she'd had too many of those lately. Something to be seen to.

I forsake the conversation and stepped down the corridor. I had a rough idea what would be next, and I couldn't say I was looking forward to it.

Rudy stood behind his large, polished mahogany-desk, facing the window, his gaze going over the vast landscape of the industrial park that surrounded our modest accommodations. That was his statesman-pose, his back to the door, demonstrating to stand above the worldly things. Flinched not even a bit when I entered.

He would have to descent to humdrum matters soon enough, so I just sat down in the visitor's chair in front of him and took a cigarette out of the silver cigarette-box on is table.

"I haven't invited you to sit down", he said.

I took his massive silver lighter and lightened the cigarette.

"And I haven't offered you one of my cigarettes either."

Turkish-Egyptian cigarettes they were, cost a fortune bought on the regular market – if this kind of cigarettes had been dealt on the regular market. They were a thank-you of one of our customers, as far as I knew.

He turned. I had to steal his thunder as soon as possible. I knew what he could be up to once he had enliven himself enough.

"The guy who had the information was killed. In his own room. No signs of breaking and entering, no weapons' traces, all tracks covered. My girlfriend ran away yesterday. We were supposed to marry. I'm not drunk yet, but I wish I were."

He hesitated. Whatever he'd been up to saying, he didn't say. Had lost his plot for an instance. I could tell from the way he kneaded his hands behind his back, although the stern look stayed on his face. I took another drag on the cigarette and knocked the ash off in his crystal ashtray. Stupid furnishing to begin with.

Rudy was the kind of guy who had stood up to his share of fights, and survived every one of them, which in itself already was an accomplishment in our line of business. Our organization might have seemed a little odd at first glance – all the codes, stupid security measures, and all the Rudies and Judies and Hughies (our chief operations officer was indeed called Hughy) -, but in the end, we lived up to a pretty high standard of target achievement. That was why we were still in the business, and in demand like none other. And Rudy was the Boss and had always been, and as far as anyone could see, he would always be – which gave enough evidence of his figure as far as one could be interested.

He gave me another stringent look, moved to the table, then sighed.

"I know", he said. "I know every single fucking bit of your story. She's upped. Your informant was killed. Mr. X is growing uneasy. Our reputation is at stake. That's about it."

He took a cigarette himself out of the box, and lightened it with a solemn expression. He took a puff.

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

This was the second time today I'd been asked that. It didn't ring any better the oftener I heard it.

I stood up and took a glance out of the window myself, reviewing my options, composing an answer that would ring true in his eyes and yet not commit me to a path I'd rather avoid to take, at all costs.

"You have a drink?" I finally said.