by W H Lock
"What's a matter, dear boy? You seem like you've just received some bad news!"
Quinn shook his head and said, "I came out here to get away...you know what? It doesn't really matter, does it? Nothing matters." He collapsed on the counter, holding his head up with his hands.
"Tut tut, old boy, chin up and all," Oswyn said as he tapped the bottom of Quinn's chin with the tip of his cane. "Now, as I understand it, you're able to deliver on rare or unusual artifacts?"
Quinn wiped his eyes as if he were wiping away tears of defeat and nodded. "I have a very secure and unique method of supply that can deliver things that haven't seen the light of day in decades."
"A secure and unique method? How charming! If I am going to invest myself in this business, and it's looking more and more like I will be doing so, I'll need to verify this secretive means of obtaining the goods. What exactly is this means?"
Quinn cleared his throat a little and took a step back. "Look, I came out to LA because this was a free town. I can get this back in New York or Cleveland, okay? I'm not looking for another partner right now. So..."
"But you have one. Now. So I suggest you avoid offending me a second time," Oswyn said. The joviality had dropped from his voice, and all that remained was the melodious threat. "How are you getting these items you offer?"
"Some people come in and sell them," Quinn said looking down at the floor.
"But that's not the lion share, is it?"
Quinn shook his head. He looked down at the floor and refused to look up as if he was some errant child called out on the carpet. After a moment Quinn looked up at Oswyn in the eye and said, "I have a. I have a, well, I know someone with vault access at Drummonds."
The slow smile that spread across Oswyn's face was like a creeping doom. It unfurled from the middle and moved out to the edges of his face in small voracious increments that could not be stopped. His carefully trimmed mustache and beard moving to accommodate and participate in it.
"Drummonds, you say?"
Quinn cleared his throat and nodded.
"Oh, dear, this is too delightful. Oh yes." Oswyn tossed his cane up in the air and caught it with the other hand. "Yes. I think this will require a road trip, my fine young fellow. Yes! We must meet this connection of yours. Come! We'll take my car."
Oswyn tapped the cane on the floor. The door to the store opened of its own accord, and the small sign in it flipped to closed.
"I think it would be best if we kept a level of separation between you and the source, as a means of--" Quinn found himself lifted up into the air with only the tips of his toes touching the ground.
"Nonsense! We shall sally forth and meet our new partner. And then, my dear boy, we will make some very important decisions!" Oswyn smiled and laughed. He gestured for Quinn to follow along behind him. Quinn floated along behind Oswyn, his toes tracing a line along the floor.
The vintage black and silver Rolls Royce was waiting at the curb. The uniformed man held the door open as Oswyn, with the floating Quinn in tow, stepped up to the car. As they drove through LA traffic to the branch of Drummond's Bank Quinn had only one thought: hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Quinn pressed himself up against the door of the Oswyn's limo. The car was one of those vintage town cars from back in the Thirties that had great big fenders covering the wheels that swooped back along the car to become running boards. Sizable chrome pipes jutted out from the side of the engine and flowed down beneath the car. It was a triumph of elegance that no longer graced this world.
Quinn was pretty sure Rube said it was a Duesenberg Model J town car. He'd never been must of a car guy, but Quinn did have to admit that it was an incredibly smooth ride. Someone had added a small bar with several crystal decanters, an OLED screen, and a nice sound system to the car.
"If you ever find yourself in a position to obtain one of these delightful cars, my boy, I highly recommend doing so," Oswyn said from his side of the car. "So, explain to me how this system works."
"Well, I, uh, I get escorted from the main lobby down to the central vault. From there I find an interesting piece and walk out with it."
Oswyn nodded, "and your contact gives you cover by being with you the entire time."
Quinn nodded.
"How are you circumventing the magical field security system? It compares how and what you carried with you to what you're carrying out. How are you stopping the golems from grinding you into paste?"
"I'm not really sure how it works," Quinn said sullenly. "My partner can explain it."
The car came to a halt in front of the massive bank building of Drummonds. It was built like every other Drummond's branch throughout the world. They were built in the British Imperial style, which meant a lot of windows and round corners. The British during the height of their empire had taken to making buildings as round as possible. This Drummonds was no different as it sat on a corner. The hard, crisp edge that usually came with building corners was gone and all that was left was a crenelated round building with what appeared to be an endless supply of windows.
The driver hopped out of his side of the limo and raced around to open the door for his employer and Quinn. The two men walked into the bank with Quinn taking a few steps to put himself ahead of Oswyn. It was only a matter of second before Karen, dressed as an officious young bank employee intercepted the two men.
"Can I help you, sirs?" she said.
"Yes, I'm here to see--"
"Hi, Casey," Oscar said appearing from almost nowhere. He patted Karen on the shoulder. "Uh, look, would you cancel my afternoon appointments? I am going to go out for lunch after this? Thanks!"
"Of course, sir," Karen rocked back on her heels as if she were surprised by the sudden appearance of Oscar.
Oscar, for his new part, looked nothing like the slicked-back East Coaster. Now he had brown hair, a tan shirt, and a brown suit. His glasses were large round lenses, giving him a very mouse-like look. He even pursed his lips to push out his front teeth just ever so slightly.
Oscar gripped Quinn by the shoulder and whisper-shouted "What are you doing here? We agreed!" He looked around conspiratorially and continued, "We agreed to no contact outside of scheduled times! Meet me outside at the spot!"
Quinn nodded and turned around. He jerked his head at Oswyn to signal the older man to follow him. The two men strolled across the street to the corporate coffee shops. It didn't take them long to find a table.
Oscar came in a few moments later and joined them. He made a show of taking off his overcoat and hanging it from the back of his chair.
"That wasn't cool! We agreed that you wouldn't come to the bank outside of the schedule. You were already here this month. What if someone had seen you? If the management gets any inkling of what's going on, we're dead! And who is this?!?"
"This is, ah, well," Quinn said.
"I'm your new business partner, old boy," Oswyn said with his normal joviality. He smiled and tipped an imaginary hat with the top of his cane at Oscar.
"That's just great. You may as well kill us all now because there's no way we can bring someone else in on this. No way!" Oscar said. Oscar jerked to an unnatural stop.
"Dear boy," Oswyn said. "If you'll allow me a moment. I think that you'll find my patronage in this matter to be most crucial. Together, with my supervision, of course, we will be able to make a significant amount of money. Now, how are you circumventing the security at the vault? Your companion was a little light on the details."
Oscar slumped when he was released from Oswyn's magical grip. He gulped air for a moment or two and looked at Quinn in a near panic. Quinn shrugged and looked down at his feet, the very image of a defeated and broken man. Oscar looked back and forth between the two men for a few moments.
He rubbed his throat and said, "Well, the system logs how much you come in with, right? Then it logs what you leave or take out. Does the math, and as long as you match that on the way out the golems won't pound yo
u into paste."
"Indeed, but how are you circumventing it?"
"Well, that's just it. We aren't. He brings something in," Oscar nods at Quinn. "We scout out what we can take out and then he swaps it. Then we walk out. The system thinks everything is okay because the human employed by the bank is there to make sure nothing else happens, right?"
"How delightfully straightforward! One merely has to scout out what they want, then do some simple calculations and then walk out with it!" Oswyn said.
Oscar nodded.
"I believe we'll be able to make a tidy sum, boys."
"Look, I'm not really looking for a new partner," Oscar said. He went stock still a moment later, not even able to blink. Once again he was caught in Oswyn's magical grip.
"But I don't think you have much of a choice, old bean," Oswyn said. "You see, either I am involved in this, or I reveal the whole of your scheme to your superiors. I don't imagine the golems will be overly understanding." Again Oswyn let loose with that threatening cheerfulness.
Again Oscar slumped as Oswyn let go of him. The younger man rubbed his throat again. He nodded silently while managing to look like he'd come to regret every decision he'd ever made in life.
Oswyn laughed. It was a rich, deep laugh that took delight in the pain and suffering of the two younger men. It was a laugh that said there would only be one winner in this whole business and that winner would be the Great and Powerful Oswyn. Oswyn winked at the two younger men and continued to laugh on his way out of the coffee shop.
The two men stayed where they were at, not moving and looking like they'd been given the worst news of their lives. Then Quinn's phone vibrated. He checked the messages with a quick swipe. He looked up at Oscar with a huge grin on his face.
"Eno says we're clear." Quinn jumped up and immediately started cabbage patch shuffling across the small coffee shop in time to the pop hip-hop song that was playing over the store system. With a twirl and a spin, Quinn danced his way out of the store. Oscar followed along, shaking his head.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Quinn found Gwen waiting for him at the meeting place. She greeted him with a smile and handed him a frozen chocolate ice cream treat. She was sitting on a park bench on Venice Beach. It was the spot that showed up in the movies, the boardwalk stores selling sunglasses, the strip of grass with palm trees fronted by the beach and the ocean.
"I wasn't sure if you were a chocolate or vanilla kind of guy, so I guessed on chocolate."
"Chocolate's fine, boss," Quinn said with a shrug. He took a seat on the nearby bench. He sat in silence, eating the frozen treat as it melted and watching the people walk by. He looked everywhere could except directly at Gwen. "You can't go wrong with chocolate."
"So," she said.
Quinn grunted in reply.
"I guess I don't understand how you're so sure he fell for it?"
Quinn took a bite of the chocolate ice cream and mulled it over. "There are a lot of reasons, but I should have the skull for you in two or three days," Quinn said with a shrug. He went back to eating his frozen treat but this time he started from the bottom up. He made sure to keep his distance from Gwen. "Three days."
After another long moment of silence, she said, "How powerful is he?"
"I think on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd rate him Scary as Fuck. He is gestureless on his magic. He had me pressed against the wall, and he dragged me out of there against my will without any effort on his part, and I wasn't exactly letting it happen either. He had Oscar by the throat in a Starbucks without really worrying about who or what saw him."
"How can you be so sure he'll fall for this?" Gwen repeated the question.
"People don't fall for con's because they're stupid." For the first time, Quinn turned and looked her in the eye. He said, "They fall for them because they're smart. Stupid people really do know when it’s too good to be true. But smart people? They fall because they convinced themselves that this really is a once in a lifetime opportunity. They know they’re smart, and they'll be able to spot the trick any moment now." Quinn finished with a shrug. He pushed the ice cream around for a bit and ate some. “They rarely do.”
Gwen didn't say anything in response.
After a long moment of silence, Quinn finished his frozen treat and tossed it into a nearby waste can. "Well, if there's nothing else, boss, I'll be going. I've got to prep the last part of this thing and the cooldown, so we don't all get murdered."
He nodded at her, the first time he'd made eye contact since he'd walked up and turned to leave.
"Quinn, I," Gwen stopped.
He stopped walking but didn't turn around.
"Look, I'm." She took a deep calming breath and then closed her eyes. "What I am trying to do is to apologize for the other night."
Quinn turned around and looked at her then said in a careful and neutral tone, "There's no need. You felt like I was trying to take advantage of you. You had every right to react the way you did. Given our circumstance," Quinn gestured at the air around him, "that wasn't being unreasonable."
"Damn it, Quinn!" Gwen said, standing up. "I was stupid, and I'm trying to say I'm sorry."
"Okay."
"Stop being so damn reasonable about this!"
Quinn took a step towards her and touched her hand, "This isn't the movies, Gwen. You're entitled to the way that you feel. I really enjoy spending time with you, and sharing that dance with you was amazing. I feel bad that you thought I made the whole thing up. It was real, and, well..." Quinn shrugged and looked down at the ground.
She stepped forward and slid her arms under Quinn's in a hug. She rested her head against his shoulder. After a moment, Quinn responded and wrapped his arms around her in a firm hug.
"I'm having a hard time," she said. "This isn't natural...for me. I'm not used to this. This is not where I thought I’d be in life, you know? I feel like I’m overwhelmed and out of control. When that happens, I react with anger. I really like...," she looked up. "I just want you to know that I am genuinely sorry for the other night."
Quinn squeezed her and said, "Thank you."
She reached up and gently kissed him on the mouth. He responded by pulling her in closer and leaning into the soft kiss.
She whispered into his ear, "My apartment is about 3 blocks from here."
Quinn said, "Can you teleport? Because I can't teleport and we need to be at your place like now."
In response, she kissed him harder and pulled him along with her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Quinn lay in bed and watched the sunset over the Pacific Ocean through the slatted blinds in the window. Gwen rested her head on his bare chest. She sat up, her bare skin contrasted in the darkness of the room. She reached down to the foot of the bed and pulled up the comforter around them both.
"Don't people usually smoke cigarettes after...," she gestured at the bed and their legs.
"Probably only if they smoke. I don't, and you don't either," Quinn said with a grin.
"How do you know I don't smoke?"
Quinn grinned and gave her a salacious wink.
"Oh!" Her whole body flushed with embarrassment. She gestured at her crotch and said, “You can tell if I smoke from…”
Quinn laughed and pulled her back down to lay down next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and nestled in close. She ran her hand across his chest, playfully chasing her own fingers.
“No,” he said. “We kissed a lot. I would have tasted it then.”
“Oh. Yeah. I suppose.” After a long moment of contented silence she said, "I looked at your file." The words came tumbling out in a sudden rush.
"I should hope so," Quinn said with a smile. "You were at my parole hearing, after all."
"No, I mean I looked at everything. The stuff we're not supposed to and all that. I looked at it."
Quinn leaned back and gave her a very serious look. After a moment he said, "And?"
"Before fifteen years ago, you don't exist. Anywhere."
>
"Yeah," Quinn said. "I was raised in a compound, remember? Totally off the grid."
She shook her head, her blond hair with its gentle curls shook in the half-light. "It's more than that. I've seen those sorts of records before. There are always explanations about where the compound was at, who they were, that kind of thing. But not with you. It's like you didn't exist at all and then suddenly, you did. What happened?"
Quinn ran his hand along her leg, gently brushing the fine hair of her legs above the knee. "I was kidnapped when I was young. When I show up in the records was a few years after I had escaped."
"What do you mean? You were kidnapped?!?"
Quinn nodded and leaned back into the pillows. "I probably wasn't older than a year or two when it happened. I have a few memories but nothing really substantial, you know?"
"Wait. You mean, you were really, like, taken?"
Quinn nodded. "Yeah, the, uh, woman, who raised me, decided that she wanted a human child of her own. And lucky me, I guess?"
"Oh my goodness! That's awful, Quinn." Gwen leaned forward and kissed him on the lips and cheeks several times. After more than a few kisses, she pulled back and said, "Did you ever try to go find your birth family?"
Quinn shook his head.
"Why not? Surely they have been looking for you this whole time? Your mother must have been beside herself with grief!"
Quinn shook his head. "I doubt she even knew about it. My mother was pretty skilled with magic. She likely made is to my birth mother never noticed that I’d been taken. And if I did find her, what would we have to say to each other? "
“What would you have to say to each other??! How about ‘Hi, I’m your long lost son.’ That would be a good place to start.” Gwen leaned away from Quinn and shook her head as if she had trouble processing the idea of not seeking out your birth family. ”Wait. I don’t understand, how powerful is your mother…the woman who kidnapped you, how powerful is she that she could make a mother forget about her baby?”