Without a Hitch

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Without a Hitch Page 5

by Andrew Price


  Molly placed her left hand on her hip and stomped her foot, causing cookie crumbs to fall to the floor. At the same time, she used her best exasperated voice to half-shout: “Are you trying to be sexist?!”

  Corbin laughed. “No, but that’s all I’ve ever seen you do around here.”

  “I’ve done other things.”

  “I’m sure.” Corbin chuckled.

  Molly moved the cookie from her right hand to her left and shook the crumbs from her right hand onto Corbin’s floor. “Is your buddy going to complain to Wilson about Kak and this safety thing?” Cooper Wilson was Kak’s boss, though he could rarely be found at the office.

  “No, no point in that. Wilson’s just a continuation of Kak by other means.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Well, I should get back to my office. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your work,” Molly said, motioning toward the magazine on Corbin’s desk. “Oh, and if you ever feel like painting your nails,” Molly said with a wink, “just drop by.”

  A few minutes later, Beckett returned to the office. He was whistling.

  “You seem chipper,” Corbin said suspiciously. “How’d it go?”

  “He had me sign a new form. He also told me to hide the wires behind a box. He’s paranoid it will reflect poorly on him if GSA learns about these problems.”

  “Give me a break! He’s not even responsible for acquiring the building or maintaining it. Why should he care?”

  “I think he’s afraid of outsiders snooping around.”

  “Figures. So he got you to recant?”

  “On the new form, yes.” Beckett smiled. “But, I also swiped the old form.”

  “You know. . . you might want to let this go.”

  “No. I’m not letting him get away with making us work in a dangerous environment when all he has to do is tell GSA what the problems are and they can have them fixed. I’m standing firm on this one.”

  “Don’t make waves. We’ve got more important issues to deal with right now.”

  “Do you know ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’? That’s my favorite poem from back in grade school. Kak is our albatross.”

  “I thought the Mariner shot the albatross. I don’t recall ever shooting Kak.”

  “You’re thinking too literally. It’s about salvation.”

  Corbin rolled his eyes.

  “You should hear this, it could be important?”

  “No, thanks. Besides, isn’t it time for you to call your wife?”

  Beckett looked at his watch. Every day in the afternoon, Beckett called his wife to make up for not being able to come home for lunch. Even though they’d been married almost twenty years, Beckett still went out of his way to provide little romantic gestures, like bringing flowers or making these calls. “So it is.”

  “And while you do that,” Corbin said, pulling tax forms out of his drawer, “I’m gonna do my taxes to see how much Uncle Sam plans to sodomize me this year.”

  “You need more deductions. You should have kids.”

  “Aren’t they expensive?”

  “Not if you don’t feed ’em.”

  “I tried that once with fish. . . they died.”

  “Kids are more resilient.” As he fished his phone card out of his desk, Beckett pointed toward a black guitar case leaning against the wall in the corner of the office. “I meant to ask, what’s that?”

  “That’s my guitar.”

  “I guessed that part. The shape kind of gave it away. What’s it doing here?”

  “I play at a local club sometimes. I usually go home before heading to the club, but today I need to get the oil changed in my car, so I don’t have time to stop at home. I didn’t want to leave the guitar in my car.”

  “I didn’t know you played guitar?”

  “Yeah. I’ve played for years, but I only started playing publicly about six months ago, when I read an article about local clubs letting people play on open mic nights. I was bored sitting at home, so I found one of those clubs and started playing.”

  “What songs do you play?”

  “It depends on my mood. When I first started I asked around to see what other people were playing, because I didn’t know what people wanted to hear. I ended up with a pretty long list. Truthfully though, the list is a little dull,” Corbin said with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice. He didn’t tell Beckett he had written several songs, but hadn’t yet worked up the courage to play them.

  “Are you any good?”

  “The manager seems pretty happy with me. He’s even asked me to fill in on other nights once in a while.”

  “Wow! Do you have any fans?”

  “Not that I know of, but no one’s thrown any produce at me.”

  A few days later, Corbin entered the office holding a calendar of upcoming events. “I think I found the day we need to do this.”

  “Why? What gives?”

  “On June 14th, they’re having a hearing upstairs on amendments to our rules. At the start of the hearing, the recorder will take the names of everyone in attendance. If I sit in, my name will appear in an official United States government record as being present at the hearing on that date and time. Talk about an unbreakable alibi.”

  “Are you still going to have time to do everything else?”

  “Yeah. The hearing doesn’t start until ten, and it’s supposed to stop by noon. Plus, after the hearing starts and my name is recorded, I’ll just slip out the back.”

  Beckett smiled. “Ok, we have a date.”

  “I think so. I’ll clear it with Joe Nobody, but I doubt he’ll object.” Corbin tossed the calendar into his inbox. “By the way, Nobody and I are gonna start scoping out houses this weekend. We should know by Monday which of our high earners will make good candidates.”

  “Don’t let anyone see you.”

  “Won’t be a problem.”

  Corbin picked up his book to read, but he saw Beckett staring out the window. Something clearly bothered him. “What?” Corbin finally asked.

  “Why are you doing this?” Beckett asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This whole scheme. You’re a smart guy. You make good money. In a couple years, you’ll make a heck of a lot more money in the private sector. You don’t have any lavish spending habits, and I’ve never known you to be greedy. So I can’t see money as your motivation. So why take this kind of risk for something you don’t seem to want or need?”

  Corbin set down his book. “I would have thought my motives were obvious.”

  “Not really.”

  “You tell me, Dr. Freud. I thought I was doing it for the money.”

  Beckett shook his head. “No, money’s definitely not your motive.”

  “Well, when you find out, you let me know.”

  Chapter 4

  Monday morning began as most Mondays do. Corbin and Beckett arrived and checked their mail. Various coworkers came by to discuss their weekends and to ease their transitions into the workweek. Around ten, Beckett closed the door. Corbin assumed Beckett wanted an update on the weekend’s research. He was in for a shock.

  “You did what?!” Corbin nearly screamed.

  “I told Kak I’m quitting. My last day is June 14.”

  “I told you we need to think about that!”

  “I thought you agreed? You even picked the date last Friday. I just gave him the same date.”

  Corbin rested his head in his hands as he struggled to calm himself. His anger raged beneath the surface, but he slowly regained control. They needed Beckett, though this was a huge presumption on his part. Corbin took a deep breath. He spoke slowly and without uncovering his eyes: “We’re going to work around this, we have no choice. . . but do not, I repeat, do not ever make another decision without going through me first. There are three of us who need to agree on all actions. Do you understand me, Evan?!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you understand me, Evan?!” Corbin hissed.

  “Ye
s, I understand.” Beckett leaned back away from Corbin. “Listen, I’m sorry to drop this on you, but I thought we worked this out,” Beckett said in a pleading tone.

  Corbin uncovered his eyes and stared at Evan’s chest. “It’s water under the bridge, let’s not revisit it,” Corbin said through gritted teeth. “Just get me a list of the out processing procedures as soon as possible.”

  “How did you and Nobody do this weekend?”

  Corbin cleared his throat, still fighting to suppress his anger. “Fine.”

  “Anything interesting.”

  “No.”

  “Have you made any decisions about who we’re going to use?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who are we going to use?”

  Corbin took several deep breaths. “We’ve got a list of candidates. We’re going to check county records this week to make sure they don’t own property we don’t know anything about. We don’t want to use anyone who’s spent their credit on homes or rental property.”

  “I’m thinking of running down to Philly this weekend. I could take some pictures of the downtown, maybe steal a phonebook from a 7-11.”

  “Steal a phonebook?!” Corbin growled.

  “We need a list of banks and mailbox places, right?”

  “We can get those off the net.”

  “Won’t that leave a record?”

  “We’re not going to do it here. We’ve got internet access that can’t be traced.”

  “How did you get that?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Corbin clenched his teeth.

  “So do you want me to go to Philly?”

  “No.”

  “Ok, I’ll spend the weekend working on my lawn.”

  Word of Beckett’s departure spread instantly. No sooner had Beckett told Kak, than Beckett found himself summoned to a half-dozen offices. As if on cue, Molly appeared at their door the moment Beckett left to make the rounds.

  “Where’s your buddy?” Molly asked, as she picked light-blue fluff from her sweater and dropped it past her brown tweed skirt onto Corbin’s floor, where it gathered near her feet.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “I hear he’s leaving our lazy little oasis?”

  “That’s what he tells me.”

  “When’s the big day?”

  “June 14th.”

  Molly folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What are you gonna do without your playmate?”

  Corbin shrugged his shoulders. “They’ll provide me with another one.”

  “Uh huh,” Molly said. She looked around the room, searching for something. “So. . . uh, what are you two up to?”

  Corbin’s heart jumped. “What do you mean?”

  “You guys have been acting suspiciously lately: closed doors, shouting, whispered conversations. You’re up to something.”

  “Nothing more than usual.” If Corbin was nervous, he gave no hint of it.

  “You know you can’t keep a secret from me. I will figure it out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out.”

  “We’ll see.” Molly backed out of the doorway to return to her own office.

  Corbin called after her: “You know there are laws against stalking, right?”

  Beckett played with his salad, though no one but Corbin noticed. Fiddeja’s was just like every other national chain: busy, noisy, and cluttered. You could do most anything at a table and no one would notice.

  “What do you think she knows?” Beckett asked, setting down his fork.

  “Nothing or she would have hit me with specific questions. I think she’s just fishing for a reaction, so be ready if she comes after you next.”

  “I don’t like this. What do you think tipped her off?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Probably the door being closed so much, maybe the whispered conversations, maybe the shouting.”

  “Should we do something to mislead her?”

  “Hell no! Don’t overreact, that would convince her she’s right. Just go about our days normally. She’ll lose interest, she always does.”

  Corbin stood on his cement balcony looking down at the driveway twenty-two floors below. His old college sweatshirt protected him from the cool evening air. He was on the phone with Alvarez. As he listened to Alvarez rail against Beckett for picking a resignation date without consulting them, Corbin watched a tow truck turn onto the long circular driveway, causing several illegally-stopped cars to scatter. One remained though, and the tow truck soon would have it. The tow truck then would disappear with its prey firmly in its grasp, as it had on so many other nights. This always reminded Corbin of a wolf stalking sheep.

  “What do you want me to do about it, Vez?”

  “Can’t we drop him?”

  “I don’t see how. We need a third.”

  “Can’t we find somebody else?”

  “Do you know anyone?” Corbin leaned against the heavy, metal railing which enclosed his balcony and watched the tow truck latch onto its victim. “Besides, now that he knows, it’s dangerous to cut him out. How do we know he won’t turn us in just because he’s pissed? How do we know he doesn’t try something himself and poison our well. . . so to speak? I think it’s too risky to cut him out now.”

  “You’re probably right,” Alvarez reluctantly conceded.

  “Plus, his role really is limited. He’s just carrying the duffel bag, and only on the first day. He’s irrelevant after that. It’s not like we’re relying on him to open the accounts or collect the money.”

  The tow truck pulled away from the curb, dragging the car behind.

  “How big of a problem is this gonna be for you?” Alvarez asked.

  “Not super huge, but it makes things a little more difficult. I’ll probably have to deal with more people coming by the office to wish him goodbye or good riddance, but that’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m more concerned he just did this without consulting us.”

  “That bothers me too. We don’t need him doing something stupid and bringing heat down on us.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  The tow truck vanished around the corner with its prey.

  Chapter 5

  Standing with one foot in the office and the other in the hallway, Corbin did his best “Carol Anne” impression from Poltergeist: “They’re here.”

  “About time! I thought I’d never get to use this.” Beckett pulled a paper from between the sheets of an unused notepad and placed it into his inbox.

  Corbin returned to his desk and tried to look busy.

  A few seconds later, Kak knocked on their door. “Hi guys, th. . . this won’t take a minute.”

  Behind Kak stood a woman with stringy, gray hair tied in a long braid that ran to the middle of her back. She wore pointed glasses and a badge announcing her as an employee of the General Services Administration. She carried a clipboard and a tape measure. Corbin and Beckett watched as she walked around the room, looking behind cabinets and examining electrical plugs. When she peered behind Beckett’s desk, she gasped. A moment later, she was crawling beneath the desk to examine the exposed wires. Beckett pushed his chair out of her away and swiveled to face Kak.

  “This is incredibly dangerous. Did y’all list this?” she asked in a thick Virginia accent.

  Beckett smiled and deferentially flipped his hand toward Kak, as if to say “you first.” Kak remained silent, but sweat appeared on his forehead.

  The woman pulled herself out from under the desk and scanned through the pages attached to her clipboard. “I don’t see any electrical problems what was listed on the inventory. Are these new problems?” The woman tugged the box away from the electrical wires and shined a flashlight directly on the outlet. “How long has this been like this?”

  Neither Kak nor Beckett responded, though Kak’s eye twitched, and he struggled to remain silent. Beckett, by contrast, remained cool, but couldn’t stop smiling. Corbin watched the face off as one watches a train wreck in progress, with a st
range sense of helpless fascination at the unfolding disaster.

  Kak broke first. “This is the first. . . the. . . the first I heard of it!”

  “Actually, it’s been like that since I got here,” Beckett countered immediately.

  Kak’s nose flared. He glared at Beckett. “I, I asked everyone to. . . uh, to report any problems. Why didn’t you report this?”

  “But I did,” Beckett replied innocently. His smile widened.

  Kak whipped out a piece of paper from a folder he held. “Here’s the uh, form. I don’t see any mention of electrical wires!”

  The woman took the form.

  Beckett peered over her shoulder. “That’s not the form I gave you. That’s the second one you made me sign. The one I sent you originally listed the wires and the mold.”

  “Mold?! What mold?” It took the woman only a split second to locate the brand new, clean ceiling tile near the air conditioning vent. “Are you saying all y’all were told to hide hazards from me?” she asked crossly.

  “Wha. . . what are you talking about!” Kak erupted at Beckett. “There was no second form! This is the form you gave me!”

  “No, that’s the form you brought me and told me to sign. I’m talking about the form I gave you originally. I think I may even still have a copy of it.” Beckett pretended to rifle through his inbox, before pulling out the original inspection form. “Oh, here it is.”

  The inspector took the form and compared it to the original. “Mr. Kak, we need to talk about your obligations to GSA.” Almost before she finished her sentence, Kak retreated from the office. The woman chased him down the hallway, battering him with questions.

  With the inspector and Kak out of earshot, Corbin finally spoke: “Holy shit, dude!”

  Beckett let out a relieved laugh. “I don’t know what came over me. I only planned to leave the form on my desk, where she could see it, but then this euphoria set in and. . . well, you saw.”

 

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