“It looks to be in order, Mr. Davis.”
The funeral director, who looked like he’d been holding his breath with a mixed air of arrogance and nerves, straightened in the brocade chair, reached out for the invoice and attempted to ignore the perspiration on his brow.
“But a little excessive, don’t you think?”
Mr. Davis paled a shade and the sweat on his forehead couldn’t be ignored any longer. He removed a handkerchief from an inside pocket of his jacket and patted his brow dry.
“These few items here,” Morton said, folding the paper in three and handing it back. “I think you could adjust them downward a bit. Say, by about fifteen percent? And I think the rental fees for the bier and the hearse could be eliminated altogether. I’m sure you agree.”
Mr. Davis accepted the sheets of paper in hands he couldn’t stop from trembling. Glancing down at the invoice, his mouth dropped open the slightest bit, but he nodded.
“I’ll also want to see the charges on Ms. Wilson’s credit card reversed,” Morton added handing his own card to Davis.
“Certainly, Mr. Broudstein.”
“Huh. That was too easy. This guy’s not nearly as tough as he acted with Jen the other day. Look — my dad’s even a little disappointed. He loves a good debate over price,” Marvin told them before he lead them back to the crowd in the other room and left poor Mr. Davis to wonder why the credenza doors were open again after he was positive he’d closed them moments ago. And how the four fingers of scotch he’d poured had managed to bring the level of soothing liquid so near the bottom of the bottle.
Back in the visitation room, Marvin thought he better stop to thank Davy again for dressing him. “Davy! Thanks for coming again today. And thanks again for making me so…”
“Spectacular, I believe is the word you’re looking for, and you’re entirely welcome, honey.”
“You do look scrumptious in that suit. I can see why your girl is so upset. I’m Diane,” the woman standing with Davy said, and held her hand in position to be kissed.
Marvin took her hand in his and shook it. “Nice to meet you. Well, I have friends to greet. We’ll see you graveside. Yes?” With that, he walked off.
“Oh Davy, I think I’ve changed my mind,” she waved a hand at Marvin’s back. “A bit of a boor, don’t you think?”
“Sorry sweetie, I can dress them up, but I’m not a charm school.”
“Well, then. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” Diane turned on her three-inch heels, ivory gown in a swirl, and left.
Marvin made his way over to Mike and Tommy and positioned himself to keep an eye on Jenna, who now stood talking to Crowley and nodding in agreement to whatever was being said.
Several minutes later Marvin’s father and Davis showed up, the music began to fade and the lighting brightened. Mr. Davis glanced toward Jenna and nodded.
David, Morton, Crowley, and another of Marvin’s associates made their way to the dais. With subtle prompting from Mr. Davis, they swiveled the bier around and took their proper places: David and Morton at the head, leading the procession of mourners out of the mortuary.
“Crowley? Crowley? You asked that schmuck to be a pallbearer?” Marvin marched over to Jenna and followed her to continue his rant. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Did you ever hear a single thing I said? I knew you never listened to what I was saying! What, you were too busy thinking about our farkakte wedding?”
With the casket loaded into the hearse and the family, including Jenna, which Marvin found intriguing considering his mother’s long-suffering demeanor, comfortably seated in a limousine, the procession began the long ride across town to the cemetery. Marvin sat sandwiched between David and Jenna just in case his brother got nudged enough by their mother to crumble under pressure and give too much attention to Jen. Marvin laughed when David reached out once to pat Jenna’s arm and yanked it back as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket after it bumped through Marvin’s chest. Tommy and Mike were up front alongside the driver, with Tommy sitting shotgun. He played enough with the dashboard and console buttons to make the driver question his own sanity by the time he pulled to a stop at the cemetery.
When the proceedings went so far as Crowley beginning a eulogy of sorts, Marvin started a rant that woke the attending deadheads from the boredom of hearing yet another new inductee overindulged in death. Though now it made perfect sense to him why Crowley had closed the office; his ego wouldn’t allow him to let the staff off the hook for one of his speeches. Though as far as Marvin was concerned ‘speech’ might be too kind a word, since Crowley made twice-daily strolls through the offices to deride and berate the employees. And one never got called into his office for a dressing-down; it was done in front of the entire staff. Marv’s rant increased when, after the ceremonial shoveling of dirt had ended and the mourners began drifting out to resume life among the living (deadheads included), Jenna, being egged on by his mother, folded an arm around David’s to be led back to the waiting limousine.
“What the hell is this? I’m not even cold in my grave and you’re taking up with my brother?”
“Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you’re about as cold as you’re ever going to get.”
Marvin paid no attention to Tommy. “And you, Ma! What, she wasn’t good enough for me, but suddenly she’s a perfect match for my little brother?”
“Come on, Brody,” Mike slung an arm around Marv’s shoulder and began leading him in the opposite direction. “I know it’s tough, but she’s still on the other side.”
Marvin shouted over his left shoulder in the direction of the departing limo, “She won’t be there long if she keeps this shit up!”
-11-
Marvin went back to the apartment that evening after going with Tommy to return the borrowed suits. Of course they both had Davy help them pick out new clothes, though Marvin couldn’t for the life of him understand why he needed new clothes when he still had a closet full at home. The only excuse he could conjure up, and not seem like a fool to ask what might be considered a stupid question, was to keep Jenna from noticing that clothes had somehow disappeared. He slipped through the door, greeted by the sight of Mrs. McClaskey sitting in his chair. He remembered her name again without having to slap himself in the forehead and made a mental note to remember to mention this to Tommy, who had told him his memory with this sort of thing wouldn’t get any better.
Jenna paced the room in agitation. “And do you believe this? Mr. Crowley, Marvin’s boss, told me the company held a life insurance policy for all the employees but, since we weren’t married yet, the money would go to Marv’s parents.”
“That seems proper, don’t you think, dear?”
“No, Mrs. McClaskey, I don’t. I’m sorry if I sound greedy, but Marvin and I were together a long time. I thought the least he could have done was make me the beneficiary of one lousy insurance policy!”
“Lousy? I’ll have you know that policy is equal to a year’s salary,” Marv said, leaning against the archway to the kitchen.
Jenna hugged herself and shrugged. “I thought I would use the money to pay for the funeral expenses. When Crowley told me, I started to sob. I can’t tell you how scared I got. When Mr. Broudstein asked what the trouble was, I just blurted it out. And that’s when he told me not to worry, he would take care of everything.”
“There now, you see, dear? I told you something would come along to help you. All you needed to do was have a little faith,” Mrs. McClaskey finished, raising the cup of tea to take a careful sip. She looked for a coaster to set the cup down. “A coaster, dear?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We don’t have any. Just set it on the table. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like it’s good furniture or anything.”
Marvin bristled at this. “Hey, it’s not cheap shit either, you know.”
Mrs. McClaskey tsk-tsked softly. “We’ll have to see about a remedy for that.”
“I just thought it was very sweet of his
father,” Jenna replied, either not hearing or choosing to ignore Mrs. McClaskey’s issue with coasters. “And Marvin’s brother was very attentive today. He’s a nice man. Not at all like Marvin.”
“Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Marvin stood upright away from the wall.
“And his mother was so nice today. What changed in one day? I don’t know. But I’m not about to question it.”
“I’ll tell you what changed,” Marvin told them. “She wants her only son married now, is what happened. She wants grandkids.”
“Good thinking, Jenna, and I’m glad today was a little better. Well, dear, I best be getting home,” Mrs. McClaskey said, rising and moving to the front door with Jenna close behind. “It’s late and I never was much of a night person. You know, early to bed, early to rise, et cetera. I believe that, you know.”
“Thank you for going today, Mrs. McClaskey. I really appreciate it.”
“Think nothing of it. I’m happy to have been of help,” Mrs. McClaskey said and unlocked the door to her apartment. “Sleep well, dear. I’m sure we’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“You too, Mrs. McClaskey. Goodnight.”
“So,” Marvin started in when Jenna closed the door. “The furniture is garbage and my brother is nothing like me because he’s nice? I swear, you are just cruisin’ for it, aren’t you?”
Jenna pulled on the usual t-shirt and slipped into bed without a word. She wrapped Marv’s dress shirt in her arms, held it tight against her chest, and let out a sorrowful moan. A minute later, she sat up in the bed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I have nowhere to go and no one but the old lady across the hall. Damn you, Marvin! What am I supposed to do now? Would you please tell me that, you son-of-a-bitch.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know! But I’ll find a way to take care of you, don’t you worry about that,” Marvin told her, though a slight tinge of menace colored the melancholy tone.
Sitting in his chair in the living room after Jenna cried herself to sleep, Marvin pondered the situation further. The more he thought about it, the more Marv began to think he had an excellent idea; though he wasn’t sure of the consequences and would have to find a way to broach the subject with Tommy without rousing too much suspicion. At least not at first. He figured maybe he could talk to Mike Hamilton about this too, and perhaps, if it seemed feasible, recruit both of them into his plans. He certainly needed assistance, especially when dealing with something he knew so little about.
His mind reeled with possibilities, but he had to be sure that, number one, it was possible and, number two, he wouldn’t be thrown to Hell, if there was a Hell. After further contemplation, Marvin thought there must be something like it because he hadn’t seen any rapists, or murderers, or child molesters among the deadheads. Well, none he could recognize as such anyway. If he ended up in Hell, his mother would never forgive him when she came over and found out.
“So the question is,” Marvin wondered aloud, “what are the consequences of these acts if you’re already dead when you commit them? There can’t be jail. I mean, you could walk right out, couldn’t you?”
-12-
It took Marvin several days to muster up enough courage to start the conversation. They had begun what would become a daily ritual, meeting at Epstein’s for coffee at mid-morning to avoid the early crowd of workers jostling for position at the take-out counter and tables.
“I think a little tour is in order,” Tommy said, handing Marvin and Mike cups of coffee he’d just poured from the fresh pot, much to TINA-I’ll-Be-Your-Server-Today’s dismay, especially after she’d just promised a table more was brewing and she’d be right back with it. He slid into the booth across from them
“A tour of what?” asked Mike, who had just shown up and missed the beginning of the conversation.
Tommy nodded toward Marvin. “Marvin here wants to know what happens when a criminal dies.”
“Well, what more harm can they do? They’re as dead as we are.”
“Mike, think about it. We all waltz into a store and take what we want,” Marv said gesturing at their clothes. “What’s to stop a bad guy from doing worse?”
Tommy chuckled. “You two have a lot to learn. Dudes, I kid you not, there are bad guys here just like there are anywhere.”
“And if someone was to, oh…I don’t know, say…steal a huge amount of money by walking through a vault wall, what would happen to him?” Marvin looked down into his cup attempting an air of innocence.
“Brody, what would be the point? We get whatever we want. Nobody here pays for anything,” Mike lifted his cup and indicated the other deadheads in the deli.
“Or, say forging some documents?”
“Those are pretty minor crimes, Marvin.” Tommy told him in a voice indicating he had begun to catch on. “The really bad guys? Forces keep them contained. Don’t get me wrong, once in a while one gets loose and wreaks some very serious havoc. I mean, you’ve both seen Amityville Horror, right?”
Mike whistled low. “That was for real?”
“Dude, you have no idea what some of them are capable of. And I’d suggest you don’t want to find out. But, back to the issue: what are you thinking Marvin? Spill it, man.”
“Um…” Marv stalled and took a sip of coffee. He wanted help and hoped Tommy would be willing. It seemed like the kind of thing he’d think of as fun, after all. But to be honest, Marvin didn’t know either of these guys well enough to know for sure they would be up to the hi-jinx rolling around in his brain. “I found out the firm did have a life insurance policy.”
“Brody, that’s a given. Any firm the size of Saxton and Crowley would do that for its employees.”
“Well, the thing is, Mike, because we weren’t married the money goes to my folks. I want it to go to Jenna.”
“Why didn’t you change it when you got engaged?”
“You heard my mother bellow at the funeral home?” Marvin paused for the nods. “That, my friends, was nothing compared to the noise she would’ve made if I’d left insurance money to a woman before I was married. And knowing my mother, possibly even before the first grandchild.”
“So, you want to break into the firm and change the forms?” Tommy asked. When Marv nodded Tommy burst out laughing. “This is a piece of cake, Marvin. When do we go?”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Mike sat shaking his head. “Isn’t that kind of thing computerized now? I know our firm did all that shit on computer. You’ll have to print the consent form, change the beneficiary, forge your dad’s signature, scan it and then get the digital file into the system. Can you access that?”
“Maybe there’s a file with a hard copy somewhere. We could take it and change that, right?” Tommy suggested.
“They keep all the personnel files locked up when the office is closed,” Marv told him when he saw the expression on Tommy’s face. “And Christine locks it when she goes to lunch, too.”
“Dude, who cares?”
“What do you mean ‘who cares’? How do you propose we get into the files if they’re locked? I can’t stick my head into a drawer to read the files. Besides, I’m not that near-sighted.”
Mike laughed at the image. “Brody, I think what Tommy’s trying to say is, we can walk in and watch where she puts the keys. Hell, we can hover over her shoulder while she logs onto her computer and snag her password.”
“Duh…”
Marvin sipped his coffee as he contemplated breaking into the office files, thinking not only could they achieve the goal but he could have some real fun screwing with Crowley’s mind by moving his computer files and changing presentations. Besides, Marv figured it would serve the bastard right after bawling out staff members for not remembering what they’d done with an old file. He smiled. “Okay then, let’s go!”
After a short bus ride, they followed Christine into the building as she returned from lunch. Tommy hit the call button for the elevator just as Christine approached it, causing her to stop short and look over bo
th shoulders. Tommy and Mike both enjoyed the look of confusion on her face when she realized no one was within twenty feet of her.
“Tommy, don’t screw with things. She might catch on,” Marv said.
“Sorry, Marvin. Force of habit,” he lied and winked at Mike.
Up on the fourth floor, Christine stopped in the ladies room before heading to her office. Tommy almost followed her in and was stopped only when Marvin grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Come on, we can go wait in her office,” Marv said leading them through the maze of cubicles.
Tommy and Mike immediately started to rummage through things. Marvin stood in the doorway to play lookout and watched for the secretary’s red curls to appear bobbing over the walls of cubicles.
“Hey, Marvin… This folder has your name on it. Should I open it?”
Marv snatched the folder from Tommy. “No! What’re you, dumb? There’s personal shit in there. Hand it to me.” He leafed through his personnel file looking for the insurance forms. Seconds later he told them, “Nope. Not in here. You think she already processed it?”
“Brody, did Jenna get all the death certificates and give one to your boss at the funeral?”
Marv thought about that, going over the day in as much detail as he could. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“What about Crowley’s office? Wouldn’t he have to sign something in order for anyone to send the claim in?”
“Shit, here she comes. Tommy, why don’t you stay here and get her computer logins. Mike and I will go check out Crowley’s desk,” Marv said.
He and Mike started down the hallway to Crowley’s office and Marvin hollered, “And don’t screw with her, Tommy. She freaks easily.”
“Dude…purely professional today.” Tommy raised his right hand. “I swear.”
Mike and Marvin walked through the tall wooden door into the sparse office and saw Crowley sitting behind his desk.
[Marvin's] World of Deadheads Page 6