A Matter Of Respect Ch. 06

I arrived at the company parking deck about twenty minutes later. I entered the parking deck and drove up to the second level. There I saw a group of people standing next to an ambulance and a squad car. There were two blue suits and a two emt's loading a person on a stretcher into the ambulance. It was Ms. Merchenal. Mr. Finch was standing about six or seven parking spots away, talking on a cell phone. I parked close by and walked over. Finch saw me coming and turned the other way. He closed his clamshell cell phone and put it away. The emt's closed the door to the ambulance. I flagged one of the emt's and pointed to the ambulance driver. The driver got out and came over to me. He was an older fellow with gray hair and bright blue eyes. Most likely a long timer to the business. I flashed my id and shook his hand.  

"What have we got here sir?" I asked him.

"Mild concussion plus a few abrasions. She took a spill against the concrete and got a knot on the head and a couple of nice scratches. We're taking her in for observation just to be on the safe side. Officer says it was an attempted robbery." The man responded. 

He had a surety to his voice that probably comforted people in situations like this. I thanked him and asked him to hold on for a shake or two. Mr. Finch would be riding with her to the hospital. He just didn't know it yet. I returned to where Finch was standing.

"What happened here Finch?" I asked.

"Everything is taken care of." He replied in a casual tone.

"That's not what I asked you. What happened? And make it quick. You're going on a ride."

His eyes widened. His mouth opened in a half pout. 

"Three men accosted her when she left her vehicle. They tried to take her purse, and when she resisted one of them pushed her down. She hit her shoulder on a parking barrier and bumped her head." He responded. His voice was like a faint snarl. "I see no need to accompany her."

"And I see no need for you not to." I answered him flatly. "Your ride is waiting. I want you to take a complete statement in detail on your way to the hospital. Have it on my desk an hour after you return. See that Ms. Merch is attended to, even if it means taking her home and tucking her in."

Finch seemed to inflate for a second, then stalked away.

"Mister Finch." I called to him as he walked away. The word mister came out mista. He turned and gave me an irritated glance. "Make sure you get her statement, not yours. I want every word that comes out of her mouth to be noted and kept accurate, to the nines."

Finch stomped his way over to the ambulance. One of the emt's opened the door for him and smiled at me as he closed it behind him. Yeah, you met him too, didn't you brother? And you think he's an asshole just like I do. 

I introduced myself to the officers and we spoke for a few minutes. I made note of a few things, just in case Finch 'influenced' Ms. Merchenal's statement any. They were nice enough fellows. One older guy with salt and pepper hair and keen looking eyes. His partner looked to be about twenty two. The kid practically had a neon sign over his head that read 'New guy. I want to shoot something.' While I was getting the details of the incident, the older cop asked who had so carefully placed a large corncob in Mr. Finch's ass. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I apologize for him sir. He's full of himself." I told him.

"No shit." The older cop replied. "They make you carry a sidearm working for a private company?"

I opened my jacket and pulled my left hand revolver from the holster. I handed it to him by the barrel. 

"Do you have a permit for those?" The young cop asked immediately. He looked like a Chihuahua who just saw a cat. His partner scowled at the kid and he shut up. Quick like.

"No I don't young man." I told the kid. "They shoot water."

The older fellow rolled the gun over in his hand, gripped it and played his hand over it. 

"Nice piece of work." He said. 

"Thank you sir. It's good to have friends you can trust, ain't it?" I replied smiling. 

"You damn tootin'. You shoot regular loads?"  He asked.

"Yes sir, in that one." I pulled my right hand revolver out and handed it to him. He handed me back my leftie. He looked the right hand pistol over, then opened the drum and snapped it back shut with a pop.

"Dum dums huh?" He asked with a sly grin.

"You betcha." I said back.

His partner gave us both a questioning stare.

"Pumpkinballs." I told the kid. His expression said he still didn't get it.

 I thanked them both and told them I would be getting back with them on the police report. I took one of the walkways between the office building and the parking deck to my office. I could just imagine the reaming the older cop was giving the rookie on their way back to the pd.

"Boy if you try that Columbo shit on my beat again and I'll put your ass in a vise. The man flashed id and told you he was the security super. Those cannons cost damn near seven hundred bucks apiece. He had matching stocks and speedloaders. To a bedwetter like you that means he ain't no fucking rent-a-cop. You don't want to go pissing people off in this business. You never know who'll be watching your ass out here on the street."

It's best not to be on the receiving end of an ass chewing like that, but it'll make the kid think twice. That might save his ass someday. I decided I needed to have a sit down with Mr. Graham and give him the p's and q's on the situation. I liked Mr. Graham from the word go. I noticed his office door is always propped open. In the past I have worked for companies who have an open door policy. Sometimes it's a laminated 8x10 sheet of paper with some comfy friendly bullshit on it, or a memo on company letterhead telling you that you can always come to them with any problem. Mr. Graham believes the same thing I do, that an open door is the best open door policy. 'Come on in and let's talk' it says. It's amazing how far the smallest signs of kindness can go.  

I walked to Mr. Graham's office before going to my own. I wanted to see Julia and to know how she felt about our time together, but this was business and business comes first at work. She knows that so I wasn't worried she would be offed by it. Mr. Graham's office door was propped open as I expected. From inside I could hear muffled chattering from a typewriter. His secretary was really wailing away at that thing. I knocked on the door jamb. I saw a desk sitting just inside the office door to the left. Behind that the office opens up nicely. Behind her is another door that leads to Mr. Graham's personal office. The secretary looked up and saw me standing there, and she smiled. She's quite a number. Her skin is fair but not the sickly white that seems to be common among young women these days. Her eyes are a fierce blue that draw your attention. 

"Good morning Mr. Nails." She said in a Jersey accent. 

Her voice had all the pitches and sharp edges of a classic Jersey accent, but it was also soft and pleasing to hear. Must be nice to be the man in charge.  

"You can go on in."

"Thank you young lady." 

'Mr. Nails' huh? That sounds like a cartoon pitch man for a hardware store. Word travels fast in this place. I knocked on his door and heard a faint 'It's open' then walked in. Mr. Graham was reading the newspaper. A cup of coffee sat by his left hand. A nice guy and a leftie too eh? I didn't know that was possible. We exchanged our good mornings and got right down to business. That's one more thing I like about him. Some people try to give off that comforting vibe, and they usually fail. Mr. Graham resonates with it. I firmly believe if he tells you tomorrow is Easter, you better get off your ass and dye your eggs. I gave him the run down on Ms. Merchenal. He frowned as I told him. 

"That's quite the shame." Mr. Graham said in a baleful tone. "She lost a son a few months ago. I know this has to be a very difficult time for her anyway."

"How did that happen?" I asked.

"He was carjacked. The carjacker shot him in the chest and he died on the spot. He was driving home from the dealership after buying a new car. He hadn't put fifteen miles on the car yet." Graham replied.

"I can imagine how hard this has to be on her now, then." I responded. "I can tell she's a tough bird but something like that can break anyone down."

"I agree. I would like for you to stay close to her when you can. I know a strong presence puts these girls here at ease." Graham said.

"Consider it done sir. Now, on to Mr. Finch." I said. "I believe he may express some discontent with me when he returns."

"Returns from where?" Graham asked with an eyebrow raised. He's a smart man. He knew it would be good. 

I gave him the details of Mr. Finch's little assignment. As I talked a sublime smile sprouted on his face. He looked like someone enjoying a particularly good fragrance. 

"That was a good idea." Graham told me. "Finch needs to show some professional empathy for our people, and it won't hurt him to be more personal either."  

"Honestly speaking sir he has his head stuck so far up his ass he can't see the light of day."

Graham nodded in response. He opened a desk drawer and retrieved a large brown envelope. He pushed it across his desk to me. 

"These need your attention Nails. The top document is from Mr. Segrest. He's the building super and a damn good man. He liked your ideas and has already signed off on them. I need you to sign these and all that will be left is taking care of the work orders. There are two other documents there that will be personal to you."

"Thank you sir." I replied. "While I'm here I'd like you to give me a clarification of the power dynamic in this place. I think I can move some things around so they can better be used, but I want your take on things first." 

"Finch answers to you Nails. Put him where you want him, doing what you want him to do. He's been problematic in the past, but never to the point that he could legally be fired. He was hired by my former partner and has since become a big pimple on the collective ass of this company." 

I couldn't help but laugh at that. Graham knew I wasn't laughing at him, of course. 

"Problematic how?" I asked. 

"He had a minor altercation with his secretary Vetka Lockhart. He claimed she tried to slam his hand in an overhead cabinet door. He said he pulled his hand back to avoid getting his fingers broken and he accidentally struck her as he did so. Both agreed to let the incident be bygones and continue working together. Other than that is has been countless minor annoyances." Graham said. 

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was genuinely exasperated with even the thought of Finch causing trouble.  

"Mr. Graham if you'll trust my judgment I will have Finch walking a chalk line." I told him.

He nodded again in response. I stood and shook hands with him, then thanked him for being so open. That makes a job like this a million percent more tolerable. I left his office feeling a hell of alot better about the whole damned thing, to be honest. I took the elevator down to the ground floor to see Mr. Segrest. I liked the man the moment I laid eyes on him. He's about five foot two. His silver gray hair is cut in a buzzcut that terminates in a point so sharp it looks like it could cut you. After about two seconds of talking I could tell he was relieved he could deal with someone besides Finch. Finch was turning out to be a pimple on the collective ass of the whole building. 

Mr. Segrest and I talked over a few points about the installations that needed to be scheduled. I suggested two independent contractors handle the work. When you're dealing with high level security elements you sometimes end up having work performed by people who are in the high level fucking-you-over business. I have seen more than one instance of a corporation investing in an intricate security system only to have the system undermined by the people who installed it, or by people who paid the contractors for information about the system's inner workings. The best way to avoid that is the simplest. Leaving loopholes to allow a potential attacker in might stand out to the other contractor, so have two contractors do the work and let them watch each other's asses.  

Mr Segrest chuckled when I suggested this and agreed wholly. I'll look forward to stopping in on him from time to time. He has a big Marine tattoo on his right bicep. It makes sense that a career man who has paid his dues would dislike Finch, so I planned on making their contact in the future as brief as possible. I left his office and headed back up. I decided to stop and meet a few more of our people. So far there are alot of nice folks working for this company. That's a clear sign of an intelligent person doing the hiring and firing. 

On my way to the elevator I passed a door marked Mail Room. I could hear music playing from inside. I knocked and no one answered, so I opened the door and went in. There were five men sitting at a big rectangular table playing dominoes. There was a small stack of dollar bills and a few loose quarters in the middle of the table. One of the men was older, about sixty I guess. The rest looked to be no more than twenty. All of them were black fellas. The older guy noticed me and nodded. The younger guys were concentrating on their hands and didn't see me at all. Anita Baker was playing on the radio. I stood behind one of the young fellas and looked at his hand. He was wearing a red Bulls hat, the brim pointing backwards.

"Put your six three there and you'll make fifteen my man." I leaned over his shoulder and told him.

The kid started like I had took a shot at him. The older fella smiled wryly. I knew this would happen, but I have learned to like it. I have this way of diffusing situations like this. 

"How you fellas doing?" I asked them. I made a point to exaggerate my accent.

The older guy nodded again and covered his dots with his hands. No way some young buck is going to cheat on him by sneaking a peep. He had nothing to worry about, since the younger men were all fixed on me. He wasn't taking his chances though. Smart man, dominoes are serious business when you've got time to kill. I looked around at them all, taking time to make eye contact with each one. I stopped at the one wearing the Bull's hat. I gave him a traveling salesman smile and he went a shade pale. This ought to be interesting. I leaned in close so my face was inches from his.

"I know you ain't gonna pass up fifteen easy points, are you?" I said.

"Man shit!" The young man whined. The words sounded like 'main she-yit'. " I just went down there last week and paid your girl my fifty dollars. Why you gonna come up in here and bust down on me man?"

"You can spot me a mile away can't you my man?" I asked him. The other men were watching us closely. 

"You know it. Can't your girl keep up with her receipts?" He replied in a scolding tone.

I looked at the other men then held my hands up, palms out. That's the universal gesture for wait a damn minute. I looked at the kid. 

"Hold whatcha got my man. I'm the new security super on the top three floors. I wanted to come down and meet everybody." I told them. 

They seemed to let a collective sigh of relief out. The other four young men smiled devilishly at the kid in the Bull's hat. I knew they were going to give him shit the second I left. That's fine by me. What good are friends if you can't give em a hard time?

"But since you mentioned it partner." I told the kid. "Don't be so quick to give yourself away. I don't even know your name and I already got your number down cold. I'm not here to bust anybody up. If you keep on good terms with your probation officer, then everything else is none of my business. It's just that I can't do my job if I don't know names and faces."

His face turned a shade red. Oh yeah, you know his buddies are going to ride his ass about this for a while. I looked at the older fella.

"May I?" I asked.  

He nodded and I took a seat across the table from him. 

"This makes six, wanna play doubles? I asked him. 

He nodded and one of the young guys scattered the dominoes then dealt them out. They were using two boxes of dominoes. Playing double dozens has one disadvantage, you're gonna take up an assload of table space. The advantages are that you can block your opponents out in a heartbeat and rack up points left and right if you watch how the dots are played.

"What you say we send these boys back to school?" I asked the old fella.

"You betcha." He answered with a smile. 

I threw a dollar in the pot. One of the guys asked me if I played for nickels, which means if I count a score of five on the board. 

"What do I look like, a fucking cheapskate?" I replied.

They all burst into laughter and a few good smiles were passed back and forth. I sat there and shot the shit with them for about half an hour while we threw the bones down. The younger guys were still visibly apprehensive about me, which as understandable. My domino partner never gave me a backward glance. 

Playing dominoes is a fine art. You have to watch what people are playing, and when and how they are playing. If one of your opponents has to pass time after time, you want to make things as hard on him as you can. At the end of the game he'll be left with a handful of dots and you can play on out. There were three sixes and a two leading out on the board. The man to my right had just scored twenty. I set the man on my left up by playing a double two. He played a two-three. The next guy was blocked out and had to pass. My partner played a double three. The  player to his left went down with a three six. He gave me a sly smile and grinned at the other guys. The next man had to pass. If you can't win by making points, you can win by blocking the other men out. I looked at my dots and shook my head, the the one who went down with the last six got this big goofy confident grin on his face. I looked at my partner and winked, he nodded in return. I slapped down a double six and they all rose up like somebody had kicked them in the seat of their pants. My partner didn't bat an eye. He knew it was coming.

"Gimme thirty my man." I told the scorekeeper. 

When the game was over my partner and I had won by damn near a hundred and seventy points. I thanked them for having me and shook the old fella's hand. He was a wiry guy, and his hand felt strong and sure when we shook. That's something the younger generations have no grasp of. A handshake when you mean it is all you need to get things done, to tell people what you want them to know, and most importantly it lets people know where you stand.

I still don't understand why there is so much ignorant hate and ill will in the old south. It feels like at some point people just gave up altogether on trying to get along. Racism has permeated every avenue of everyday life. It has taken root in places where it has no right to be. And I'm not talking just white on black and vice versa. I'm talking about everybody on everybody. Times like these a handshake between friends is worth more than I can properly describe. I decided I better leave these fellows with something a little more solid than a sound ass whooping at dominoes. The kid in the Bull's hat was really rattled when he saw me, and I didn't like that a bit. 

"Before I go I want to tell you guys something. I know some people in this company like to lean on others from time to time, and I'm here to tell you that shit don't fly on my watch. If something comes up, you let me know about it. I ain't no saint but I'm fair no matter what." I told them. I looked at the older guy. "And I'll catch you later partner. That's the most fun I've had playing dominoes in years."

I left the mail room with a placid grin on my face. I assumed Finch should be getting back soon. I wanted to talk to his secretary before he returns. If Finch has the same effect on her he seems to have on everyone else, I want the girl to know exactly where I stand. But for the time being I needed to get to my office and see Julia. Suddenly the thought of looking down the front of her blouse seems like the most important task of the day. 

Fade To Black