How Do You Become a Moderator : John Corrado
by Fenris
I knew these dames were trouble the first time I saw them. Oh they were classy, but classy and trouble together are a bad mix.
One said her name was Lynn. The other just went by the name "Tuba". They were hot as a skillet and cookin' with fire.
"Ladies. I'm John Corrado Private Eye. What do you need?"
"There is a piece of...information" said Lynn. "An envelope that my employer wants back. He could find it himself, but he's understaffed and it would be a needless bother for him."
"We need you to get it for us." Tuba added "If the envelope's still sealed, we'll pay you double."
"Who's your 'employer'?" I ask
"I'd...rather not say." Tuba replied
And I need this like a hole in the head. But what the hell...I'm 2 weeks late on my rent.
I tell them "$200.00 a day, plus expenses. I'm my own boss and I do the job my way. I want $800 up front and I'll give you receipts for my expenses."
Tuba opened up her big handbag and peeled off a wad of bills.
"You don't like the way I'm doing the job, you fire me. You interfere, I quit. Either way, I keep half the money. Get it?"
Lynn replied "Got it"
Good.
They gave me my first lead and left. A mook named Winkelried was the last to see the envelope. He was in a swanky club off of the Avenue. I took the subway, since I don't waste my client's money. When I got there, I had to pay the doorman twice the normal bribe. He didn't like my clothes. I didn't like his face. I offered to rearrange it. That's why I had to pay extra.
The joint was jumping when I got in. Hot jazz. I don't care much for that kinda music. I like my women hot and my jazz cool. I tracked down Winkelried.
"You know Bodoni and Diva?" I asked. I was getting a headache from the music and didn't want to beat around the bush.
"I expect you've come about the...envelope" he said. His eyes were like diamonds, hard and glittery. "I don't have it. When last seen it was with Tuba when she recruited me to the organization, and her loyalty to our employer is unquestionable."
"No-one's loyalty is unquestionable" I said
He stared at me with those cold eyes of his "Hers. Is."
His tone didn't leave any room for discussion.
"Who's your employer anyway?"
"Cecil Adams"
I sat down. I was playing in the big leagues for higher stakes than you can mix a metaphor at. Cecil! Damn. He was one of the...no. The Big Boy. He had all the answers. And that gave me my first lead. I had a slug of overpriced whiskey and left, heading towards Feldman's place.
Feldman was probably Cecil's closest competition, if he can be said to have one. But Cecil answers every question. Feldman still has questions from 4 books back that he can't figure out. But some folks can't get Cecil's attention, he's a busy man. So sometimes they turn to Feldman or, worse Achenbach.
I questioned Feldman who was a nice enough guy, but he didn't know anything about the envelope. I trust my gut and I believed him. Achenbach either. That only left Poundstone. He wasn't really a rival of Cecil's, but he did poach on Cecil's territory on occasion. And at least once, he tried to slander Cecil, saying that Cecil was some mook named Zotti. Cecil slapped him around like a red-headed stepchild. He didn't try again.
That might be the motive right there! Revenge! Some folks like their revenge cold. Maybe Poundstone was putting a hit on Cecil again!
I got there, but Poundstone was ready: he had his muscle waiting.
"Whaddaya want?" said the lead gorilla.
"I'm going to talk to your boss."
He pulled out his piece.
"You better put salt on that, punk" I said " 'cause your gonna be eating it in 5 seconds. One....two...three...four" I hauled off and hit him in his face. There was a surprised look as he toppled like a redwood. "Who's next?" I asked.
The rest of the goons scattered. You can't get good help anymore.
I talked to Poundstone. There was the usual threads and bluster, but what it came down to is that he didn't know any more than the others had.
I left and the solution came to me in a flash. I hurried over to Diva's swanky east-side apartment.
She answered the door. Bodoni was there, along with that Winkelried character and some guy I hadn't seen before. He smelled like beer and was wearing his underpants on the outside. I knew he was one of Cecil's main henchmen: Uncle Beer. That made my theory even more likely.
I looked at Tuba. "I don't like playing games."
All sweetness and light she said "Whatever do you mean?"
I reached over and took her handbag. Opening it, I found the envelope.
"It was pretty obvious. You mentioned that Cecil was understaffed, but Cecil's never so understaffed that he can't find something he needs. Plus, this guy" I gestured towards Winkelried "said you were recruiting. You coulda just asked."
Lynn said coolly "If we had asked, we wouldn't have known if you were the man for the job. Now we do. You have three options. One: You can take the envelope. I really don't know what's in it. It was stolen from Zotti's office and we just recently recovered it. We suspect that it might have a photograph of Cecil."
Visions of untold wealth danced before my eyes. With a photo of him, I could write my own ticket. But we had a deal. And John Corrado, Private Eye don't welsh on a deal.
She continued "Or, we can pay you as we promised. You fulfil your contract and call it quits."
That sounded better, but there was a third option coming.
"Or..."
I knew there was a third option.
"You can work for us. We need someone of your talents and street-smarts in the Pit. It'll mean long hours, bad pay and little respect...except what you can earn with your wits."
"And you get a keen coffee mug!" said Uncle Beer
Tuba gave him a look. He sat down quietly.
"If I do, how much latitude do I get?"
Lynn said "You'll answer to me or Tuba. Or Cecil. But generally, you're on your own. And a place as rough as The Pit needs your kind of initiative in tracking down trolls and putting out over-eager flames."
I thought about it. For about 5 seconds. "I'm in." I said and shook her hand. "This looks like it could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship"
Posted 1/18/01