A Matter Of Respect Ch. 11

Julia thanked me in the nicest way possible for ten minutes or so, then stood up and gave me a wicked grin before returning to her office. Not a bad way to start the work day, if you ask me. There's something strangely gratifying about watching a beautiful woman swallow a load for you then go happily back to work. No rush to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Just a little touch up on the lipstick and a big happy grin. She's a hell of a worker, in more ways than one. 

I began reviewing the budget papers Graham had given me in more detail. I turned on my desktop pc and waited while it clicked and hummed until it came to a login screen. I signed in then accessed the company's internal database. After a little searching I found a breakdown of personnel on a floor to floor basis. I found another page that contained a hierarchal listing of every employee. There were a hell of alot more names than I expected. I was obligated to make myself familiar with every one of them, so I made a note of a few of them I didn't recognize. 

Next I looked up the background checks Finch had run. I compared them to an alphabetical listing of every employee on a floor to floor basis. They matched right on down the line. Matter of fact, I immediately noticed they matched too well.  It seems to me that if Finch were providing someone with a list of names and respective vital stats needed to run background checks, he would have one long list of names in alphabetical order. Instead they were broken into three smaller alphabetical listings. It looked to me like he didn't want to bother with generating one long list of names, so he just copied and pasted the names and information from the three smaller listings. That didn't seem right. Whoever was doing these background checks would prefer a single fluid alphabetical listing, especially since he was requesting this information once a month. 

There were two hundred and twelve names all told. That's two hundred and eleven excluding Mr. Graham. That totaled sixty three thousand three hundred dollars a month being spent on background checks. For a multi billion dollar corporate giant that kind of money could go unnoticed, if it were spent on something immediately relevant. 

Or something that seemed relevant. 

I called Julia into my office and asked her if she was familiar with the source of the background checks. She responded simply 'Someone Finch knows.' That came as no surprise. I imagine Finch lined this character up to do the work under the guise that they could perform the task at a good cost. That made me more than a little suspicious. I called Mr. Graham and asked him if he was familiar with them. He gave me a name and two phone numbers. 

"Their information has been dependable so far. I've seen no reason to doubt them." Graham told me.

I thanked Graham and hung up. I sat there thinking on things for a while then decided to make a few phone calls. I copied and pasted the list of names and embedded them in an email. I sent the email to an old buddy of mine back at the mayor's office. His name is Edsel Freeman. He's about sixty five I think. He'd been at the mayor's office long enough to damn near retire twice before my first day on the job. Many administrations later and he's still in the same place, doing the same thing. He's a very keen character. Over the years he has adapted to the leaps and bounds in technology with the greatest of ease. His art is in the storage and trade of information. While most folks his age are scratching their heads and trying to make some kind of dim understanding of the internet, Edsel has embraced the digital age with a talent that would make most college educated folks green with envy. If I need some inside information and he can't find it for me, brother it can't be found. I dialed his office number and kicked back behind my big desk and propped my feet up. I might as well enjoy the perks, ya know? After the third ring heard a gruff voice answered.

"Records." The voice said. 

"You're old, you're ugly and you're slow." I said with a smile. 

There was a brief pause then a burst of laughter. Hearing him laugh made me smile. I have always loved that man's voice. Hearing him talk always made things a bit more sane and tolerable for me. 

"Nails you goddamned knotheaded pervert, how the hell you been boy?"  Edsel replied.

"I'm just fine as paint Edsel. How's Margaret and the boys?" I asked. 

"They're doin' great. Margaret is still makin' her ceramics. She discovered that Ebay stuff and she spends alot o' time messin' round with that now. Makes a pretty penny doin' it, too. She tol' me last night if she sells three more clay pots she'll have enough to buy chrismus for all the granyounguns." He answered. "An' both the boys are doin' good. Elliot jus' got his second degree in communication or some damn thing. Billy an' Selena just had their second baby."

"Well I'm glad somebody in your family is still swinging some meat around." I responded, then held the phone a few inches away from my ear. 

I could hear him braying laughter through the handset. One thing I love about that old fart, he has a good sense of humor. Most folks think I have a hick accent. Compared to Edsel Freeman, I'm suave and debonair. Hearing him laugh made me think of a practical joke I pulled on him once. Come to think of it, I pulled damn near fifty practical jokes on that old bastard, but one in particular was the grand daddy of dirty jokes. 

For a while he filled in a temp position in the sanitation department as a supervisor. Edsel is a fair guy, but he makes it obvious quick like that if you give him an ounce of shit you will quickly be among the ranks of the unemployed. So after a few weeks holding down the job he established a very good relationship with all the workers. Keep in mind this was a small town sanitation department in the heart of the dirty old south. Saying there were a few black folks working there would be a grand understatement. At last count before I turned in my cuffs and keys, I remember there were five hundred and seventy three black folks, three mexicans and thirty two white men working there. I don't know why people chose to work there in the numbers they did, it just always worked out that way. Besides, being a garbage man pays one hell of a lot better than most people think, and the health benefits were top notch. Sometimes it's good to do the job no one else wants to do. 

Edsel is a typical Alabama football fan. That means he's a downright fanatic. He watches his beloved Crimson Tide with a devotion that would make the Statue Of Liberty shed an amorous tear. Both his boys are Bama fans too. Edsel always started the day off the same way. By the time I got in to make my rounds he had two pots of coffee going. He always made enough for himself and his men. By the time the first truck rolled out on the way to the routes, he probably made thirty pots of coffee. We would have a cup of coffee and shoot the shit for a while. That man loved coffee like a fish loves water. 

I was in the mall one day shopping for christmas, and I came across one of those college themed stores that sells all kinds of novelties. I went inside to have a look around. I was looking at some Alabama football coffee mugs. I was looking for one with his name on it when inspiration struck me. I picked out a coffee cup that had DICK printed on the front in bright red letters below the Alabama elephant logo. I had the girl behind the counter gift wrap it for me. 

A few days before christmas all the sanitation workers were assembled in the bullpen waiting for the paychecks to be handed out. I showed up out of nowhere with a big pretty wrapped package. I stood in the bullpen and called everyone to attention. Edsel poked his head out of his office door and asked me just what the hell I was doing. I asked him to come out for a shake. When he came out I made a grand presentation and gave the workers some bullshit speech about what a fine outstanding man he was and how his department and every single man under his watch was doing the finest job I could ever ask for. About halfway through my impromptu speech the mayor himself walked through the door and stood at my side. 

We had Edsel firmly convinced this was a genuine commendation from the man himself. I handed Edsel the package and all the workers started clapping and cheering. I swear that old boy was blushing like a virgin bride as he tore the wrapper open. He pulled the coffee cup out of the box then read the name on the front. He gave me a baffled smile. I held my hands up and the room suddenly grew silent. 

"Nails what the hell is this?" Edsel asked me.

"Well Sir, this is actually three gifts in one."  I told him. "You can do your three favorite things all at the same time." 

"How'n the hell do you figure that?"  He asked. 

"Well, you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee, you can show your support for Bama, and you can put Dick in your mouth all at the same time." I replied.

The bullpen exploded with laughter. The men were howling and laughing til damn near every one of them was red in the face. Edsel turned the prettiest shade of cherry red I've ever seen. He looked at the mayor and started laughing himself. The mayor turned to me and said 'Nails you're the meanest son of a bitch I ever met.' 

I have been ribbing Edsel about that for years now. Every time I think about it makes me smile. I can admit it, I'm a real bastard after all. 

"Damn you boy. You ain' never gonna change." Edsel said when he finally caught his breath. 

We shot the breeze for a while. I asked him to check his email and gave him the rundown on the list of names. The man loves a challenge. 

"Gimme an hour." He told me. 

I thanked him and told him I had to go. He finished the conversation the same way he has every time we have talked for the last five years. 

"I'm awful sorry 'bout Bobby and the boys Nails. You're one helluva man to hold up the way you do." He said in a somber tone. 

"Thanks Edsel. I'm glad I can depend on you." I replied. 

"Til the day I die brother." Edsel responded. "Bye partner."

I miss that old man. Working with him taught me a valuable lesson. I have hated my father from day one. For the longest time I was angry and spiteful to the world because of him. For many long years it seemed like every day of my life there was some drunk, fat, self righteous son of a bitch looking down his nose at me. Edsel taught me that there were some decent men in the world. 

I spent about a half hour looking at the results from the backgrounds for a six month period. I might as well have been looking at a blank sheet of paper. I could hear Ms. Peregot typing away in her office. The sound reminded me of dominoes toppling over. click click click click click. I sat there listening to her talented fingers dancing across the keyboard, and something suddenly came to me. I looked up all the employees who work in the mail room. There were five names listed. All of them had a clean background check for the past six months. 

The kid in the red Bulls hat thought I was his new probation officer. Nothing showed up on the background checks for any of the five men. There was no way an extensive check could miss the same information for six consecutive months. So either the kid had a probation officer in Antarctica or his background check was being written off and charged to the company even though the work wasn't being performed. And if his was being written off, you can guarantee a whole hell of alot of them were. I had the dawning suspicion that Mr. Finch's Hummer was financed by these bogus background checks. 

It's always best to double check before making accusations like that. As if in agreement my computer beeped and a little mail emblem flashed on the bottom toolbar. I opened the email. It was from Edsel. The subject line was blank. The message inside was brief. It read "Not even a challenge kid". Below the words was an alpha listing of all the names I had sent him. 

Most of the names had a blank field to the right of them. Several of them had notations that included a blue hyper link. I clicked the links one at a time. Richard Trenham, age 31, misdemeanor possession of marijuana. Marcus Webb, age 29, driving with a suspended license. The list went on and on as such. The second name to the last was the kicker. Lamar Jordan, age 22, possession of stolen goods. I compared the list to the one from the company's database. Lamar Jordan worked in the mail room. No doubt he was the kid in the Bulls hat. 

I called Ms. Peregot into my office and showed her the comparisons. Her eyes slowly grew wide.

"How did you get all this information?" She asked unbelievingly.

"Let's just say it's good to have friends you can trust." I told her. 

"What? Are you trying to earn another blowjob?" She asked, rubbing her leg against mine. 

My cock was instantly hard. 

"Watch it now young lady. You messin' with somebody who don't play."   

"You don't scare me." Julia replied coyly. 

"We'll see about that young lady." I answered. 

I looked at the clock. It was forty minutes until my first scheduled break. I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. I handed the money to Julia.

"What is this for?" She asked. 

"I have a little mission for you." I told her. "For all practical purposes this is a corporate duty you are to perform. I need to you to go to an office supply store and pick up something, ah, office related. Doesn't matter what it is, so long as it's something I don't already have. And while you are out I want you to buy yourself a new skirt. Make it something nice. I need you to be back in thirty five minutes sharp." 

"A new skirt? What for?"

"Cause I told you to." I responded. "Sometimes you just gotta trust me."

"Yes sir." Julia said to me, eyeing me cautiously then putting the money in her purse. 

She kissed me on the cheek then left on her mission. While she was gone I checked and re-checked all the information on the background checks. They were all performed by the same company. It was some private company on the north side of town. Their number and email address were unlisted. After some searching I unearthed a single name and phone number. 

I do believe I just found the means to putting Mr. Finch's ass out the door. Matter of fact, I was confident I could boot him straight out of the door and into a prison cell. I have learned that when you discover something like this you have to handle it very delicately. People who do things like that often anticipate being caught, so they make arrangements to cover their tracks if they think someone is on to them. I decided it was best to play dump for a while. I wanted something more to depend on before I dropped the hammer on Mr. Finch. The stars must have been aligned in my favor at that moment, because the phone on my desk rang. Vetka was on the other end of the line, and she was crying. 

"Young lady what is wrong?" I asked her. 

"Finch is out to eat. I need to talk to you. Nails I'm scared." She said with a tremble in her voice.

"I'll be right there" I told her.

"NO!" She responded suddenly. "Please don't come to my office. I want to talk to you but I can't do it here at work. I can't explain now but I need to talk soon."

She had lost none of her native accent. She pronounced my name Nills. Her a's were flat and the t's were over accentuated. Vetka was talking in a hushed voice. I looked at the caller id display on my telephone. She wasn't calling me from a line inside the building. The number showing had a different area code. That meant she was talking on a cell phone. If she was afraid to even call me on her office phone, she had to be frightened indeed. 

"Vetka I want you to try and calm down honey. I need you to sit tight for about ten minutes, and then I promise you that we can talk and you will have nothing to worry about." I told her. 

She responded with a single word.

"How?"

"I know this is asking alot since you don't know me Vetka, but I just need you to trust me. Do it this once." I told the nervous woman. 

She hesitated a few moments then replied with a nervous 'yes'. She hung up without another word. I got on my desktop pc and looked up a birthday listing for all the employees. Hopefully I would find a winner. Lucky for me I found one. Sarah Walls was having her fiftieth birthday. I called her office and explained who I was, then told her happy birthday. She's a cheery older lady. I told her I was sending her and all the girls on her floor to lunch as my treat for her birthday. She was very surprised and thanked me for what seemed like ten minutes. I walked down to her office and introduced myself. She gave me a big hug and showed me around her small office. She's a very likable lady. I met all the other office girls there and gave them the standard obligatory greeting. I gave Sarah two folded hundred dollar bills and told her to forget about her office work for a couple of hours. That might get expensive if everyone here is close to fifty, but oh well. I told the group of women that Mr. Finch himself would be accompanying them.

As I rode the elevator on my way back up I called Finch on his cell phone. He answered in his usual irritated tone.

"Cheer up kid, you're going on a field trip." I told Finch. "I want you to meet Mrs. Walls and her party in the parking deck in fifteen minutes. You will be accompanying them for a couple of hours." 

Before he could respond in his customary whine I terminated the call. I imagine he wouldn't exactly add to the mood, but when the girls see how pissed off he was they should get a kick out of it. When you're disliked people revel in your misery. I left the elevator and went back to my office. I dialed Vetka's office number. She answered on the first ring. I asked her to come to my office. 

"Finch is occupied Vetka. I promise. Now please come and talk to me." 

Five minutes later she walked through my office door.  I stood and greeted her. She was trembling. I lead her to the couch then sat down next to her. 

"Take your time Vetka. I'm all ears." I told her. 

She started sobbing and suddenly embraced me. I could feel her thin body quaking as she cried. I hate to see a woman cry like that. When you don't know what's wrong it makes you feel totally helpless. A part of you wants to make the crying go away, but the realistic part of knows you must find out why she is crying in the first place. Most times you find yourself saying something like 'now now it can't be that bad' or 'things will get better'. 

She slowly gained control of herself then looked up at me. Her eyes were painfully beautiful. When she finally started talking she spoke to me for almost fifteen minutes. Her crying had diminished to sniffs and sniffles. What she told me left me honestly struck for words. I wrote down my home and cell phone number, as well as my address. 

"If things get worse you call me. If I don't answer then you go to that address. Don't think twice. I am going to take care of a few things in the mean time. You try to keep yourself as far from Finch as you can without letting him know something is going on and I promise I will take care of everything Vetka."  I told her, trying to sound as comforting as possible. 

"Thank you Nails." Vetka said quietly. "I thought you were like all the men from home, but you are not. You are not like Finch at all."

"Thank you honey. Now dry your eyes and get back to work. I will be calling you tonight." 

After Vetka left my office I sat there mulling over everything she had told me. Now pursuing Finch was a hundred times more complicated. It was necessary though. Now that I know why she has been so frightened and nervous, there's no way I can ignore it. 

I realized Julia would be returning soon. I turned the bank of monitors on and scanned through all the camera views. I found the camera that looked out over the balcony where we take our breaks. I turned the feed from the camera off, then pulled my straight razor out of my right boot. I held the blade up, watching the steel glint and shine.

"I hope you're hungry old girl, 'cause I sure am." I spoke to the old razor. 

Moments later Julia came walking through my office door. She was carrying a plastic bag and a big purse.

"Where is everybody?" She said.

I didn't answer. I held my hands up and shrugged my shoulders. Julia gave me a sly stare and nodded. 

"Yeah, right." She said. 

She sat the bag on my desk then opened her purse and pulled out another bag. She held up a long black silk skirt for me to look at.

"Is this what you were hoping for?" She asked.

"Do you like it?" I questioned in return. 

"Yes I do. Now what is this all about?"

"Meet me in the break area in five minutes. Bring that skirt with you." I told her and rose from my chair.

"What, am I going to put on a fashion show or some..." 

I interrupted her with a kiss then pursed my index finger against her lips. 

"Go. I will be there in five minutes." 

"Yes sir." Julia answered. 

My office has a small bathroom. Above the vanity there is an elegant cabinet trimmed in bright brushed chrome. It is well stocked with small courtesy items like toothpaste, shaving cream etc. I got a small can of shaving cream and a hand towel and put them in my jacket. I walked over to the big panoramic window and enjoyed the view for a couple of minutes before heading to the balcony.  Julia was waiting for me, the skirt clutched in one hand. 

"Sit down." I said in a commanding tone and gave her a serious stare. 

She walked to a chair then stopped without sitting.

"Are you mad about something Nails?" She asked, a touch of worry in her voice. 

I wrapped my wight arm around her waist, placing my hand in the small of her back. I hooked my right foot behind her heel and jerked it upward suddenly. She gave a surprised yelp and fell into the chair. She dropped the skirt. 

"What the " 

I smothered her words in a deep tongue kiss. I ran my hands down her arms and entwined my fingers in hers. I pulled her arms to her sides then slowly behind her. She resisted a little then obediently crossed her arms behind her back. I pulled a pair of cuffs out of my jacket then cuffed her hands with a swift click. She started to say something but I put an open hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and nervous. I reached into my boot and withdrew the razor. Her eyes were immediately fixed on it. I flicked it open and with three quick snaps of the wrist cut a long swatch of fabric out of her skirt. Before she could protest I took my hand from her mouth and gagged her with the strip of fabric. 

She was making pleading, begging noises through the gag but I didn't listen. I took a step back then dropped to my knees in front of her. I grabbed both her knees and forced her legs apart. She tried to close them, squirming and fighting against me. I grabbed the hem of her skirt and tore it away suddenly with a loud ripping of fabric. I pulled her closer to me, so her crotch was splayed open in front of me. I snapped the razor back and forth and her panties fell away at both sides. I put the razor between my teeth and tore her panties away. She was looking at me with electric panic in her pretty green eyes. 

"I would be very still if I were you."  I told her in a calm tone.

I took the can of shaving cream and the towel out of my jacket and watched the expression of 'oh my God' cross her face. I shook the can and lathered her neat patch of pubic hair, watching her wince at the touch of the cool foam. I set the can aside and opened the razor. The blade was bright silver in the evening sun. She jerked at the first touch of the blade. I watched her face the entire time. I never took my eyes away from hers. With each kiss of the blade she would tense, then relax at the end of each slow stroke I made with the razor. 

When I finished I cleaned the blade and put my old friend away in my boot. I toweled her clean then removed her gag. She was panting. She had this insane grin on her face. Her nipples were visible through her bra. She was shivering slightly. I kissed her deeply and placed my index finger on her swollen clitoris. She jumped at my touch and slowly relaxed as if she were melting into the chair. I slid my finger inside her and rested it against her g spot. I slowly rubbed my finger up and down for a few moments. She responded with an ahhh sound. She bit her lip then exhaled loudly. I felt a warm gush around my finger and she thrust her crotch hard against my hand. She made a few quiet moans then slowly grew silent. She looked as if I had drugged her. 

"Are you scared of me now young lady?" I asked her softly.

"Yes sir." She said breathlessly. "Yes sir I am." 

"Good then. Get dressed and meet me back in the office after you are done here." I told her as I stood. "You can take your time. We have to talk about Vetka when you are done."

She looked up at me helplessly. 

"Yes sir." She cooed.

"Good then young lady." I said and left her there in a sticky puddle. "I have dirty work to do."

Fade To Black