The Case Of The Five Ties-Chapter Two

Chapter One. Chapter Three. Chapter Four.

Who knows how people come to haunt their own lives?

Warner had been in some kind of band, then out wandering the street for fifteen years. He’d emerge from time to time with ideas. Harry noticed three new crosses behind his left ear and a long, purple scar on his right hand.

‘It’s free if you guys want it. That’s what I’m saying.’

‘People meet every night. That’s free?’ Harry asked.

‘This ain’t it, Harry’ Wylie said, standing up. ‘You guys want a drink?

‘What I’m giving you. Something’s going on. Guys in Bremerton. The construction guys. Everybody knows.’

‘Knows what?’

‘I can’t tell you all of it. I don’t know. You sit there all night and they give you $75. That’s real fuckin’ money.’

‘What I’m tellin’ you is you get $20. For showing up. $50 for the night.’

‘That’s $70. I need a place, Warner. Names.’

‘You smell like shit, Warner. Don’t touch my desk.’ Wylie handed him a Red Bull.

‘I don’t have to be here.’ A long pause. Warner looked down at his feet. ‘Oliveira.’

What’s he look like? Harry asked.

Brown guy. Glasses. Like a banker. Short hair. He speaks German too. Good English.’

And you guys work?’ Harry asked.

‘You ask around. You show up but nothing happens. They take one group of guys, and disappear. Like a Penske truck. Illegals. Then it changes.’

‘What changes?’

The place. You gotta know someone, then it’s somewhere else. But you gotta know someone.They pay out, man.’

‘German?’ Wylie asked, staring.

‘Yeah, it’s fuckin’ German.’

‘Get me in,’ Harry said.

‘Ronnie’s on 4th near the stadium.$500 now and $500 when we’re done.

‘$100′ right now and we talk when it’s done’ Harry said, handing Warner a bill. I’m good for it.

‘Tonight,’ Warner shuffled out staring at Wylie.‘You can’t come, asshole,’

‘Text me, Harry. I got like five phones.‘ He shouted from the hall.

‘Oliveira’s Portugese’ Harry said. ‘Popular name.’

There are Germans in Brazil. Supermodels.’ Wylie said.

‘Lots of places to learn German’ Kathy was standing in the doorway. ‘I’ll check AI, incarceration, sex offenders, construction companies. Brazilians just replaced my neighbor’s roof’

‘II’ll talk to Skoda. He does data privacy. Maybe he knows something.’ Wylie said.

‘Lots of companies unloading on the Island.’ Harry said. ‘Fifteen million is serious money.’

‘There was a strike last year. Remember the Asian front food company near Georgetown?’ I can’t remember the name….lots of fraud’ Kathy said walking out. ‘My friend knows someone who works delivery. I’ll look that up, too.

‘Who makes money on each shipping container?’ Who touches these containers?’

Who was Oliveira?

The Case Of The Five Ties-Chapter One

Chapter TwoChapter Three. Chapter Four.

This morning, 6:53 am: Harry awoke to the cold.

Iridescent bits of glass covered his lap and hands.

Pain radiated from his cheek. One sliver of window hung awkwardly in the jamb. He stared at the green and white webs; his mind moving in many places.

His right hand fished into his front pants-pocket. The keys were there. Jesus Christ.

Three days ago: An email slid across Wylie’s desk and into the basket.

‘This is big. I hope I’m not right. Terminal 105 park 7 pm Fri.’

Two ropes of smoke rose dreamily from Harry’s cigarette towards the ventilation fan.

‘Could be a setup’ Wylie said.

‘Could be. Harry said leaning back. Maybe 20% on that. I’m not hearing much.’

‘You’re full of shit with numbers, Harry’ Wylie said.

Harry realized this was probably true (maybe 80%). The past few weeks had been filling the office with fear and exhilaration:

City politics…Harry’s coffee was cold.

‘Let’s take it. Someone’s gotta take it’ Harry broke the silence.

‘Your call’ Wylie smiled a small, enigmatic smile, lifting his feet from the floor and placing them back down.

One day ago: Five ties meant bad news. Probably the worst news….

Seattle Photos-A Gull, Considered

This was Harry at his most presentable: A shrewd cunning in stillness. Perhaps, he’d even brought me a question.

He was half-again as large as the other gulls near the Market. Not respected, maybe, but feared.

My mind would wander to thoughts of freedom, watching his wings dip and scissor, cutting the air. Sometimes I would watch his eyes, too, scouring the ground for food and the sky for other birds.

The constant shrieking and territorial displays were better than silence, Dear Reader, especially if thoughts of death crept in (how much I missed L). 

Harry had other behaviors: Gobbling fish guts and slurping coffee directly from the street. One day, he’d snatched a french-fry mid-air from a child’s fingers. After the shock and a brief consolation, we smiled in mutual surprise.

Clever, I suppose.

In short, Harry didn’t give a shit. 

In fact, the bird shit wherever he pleased.

This is where our story begins…

Seattle Photo-The Winter Before

I chased Badeau to the bottom of the stairs, where he gave a grunt and a cry before disappearing to the upper rooms. It was the last anyone would see of him until summer. Our little waterfront pursuit would go on to make headlines.

That night, I awoke as a neighbor’s headlights launched through my eyes, illuminating some animal part of my soul.