Odds and Evens

"He's a good-lookin' guy. He can smile out of it."

"It's because his dad's a cop!"

"He's always got some friend or family member to vouch for him."

Factors to be sure, but these are catalysts not causes. The well-tuned machine of well-meaning chaos had a motor: Anthony's internal rule. He’s not sure how he got it. Maybe it formed somewhere with his brother’s always trying to “get even.” Maybe it was his mother’s scoldings about how his stealing a candy bar brought all of society down. Maybe it was from the half-remembered homilies of the gravelly Fr Benedict trying to explain purgatory to his blue-collar congregation. However he got it, It was his golden rule:

When he pulled his sister Tessie’s hair and bit her during a fight, he took the fall after she ripped their mom’s leather chair.

When he and the boys put Robitussin in Mrs Donnahue’s coffee, he spent the rest of the year cleaning blackboards, and asking good questions.

When the nerd who did his calculus homework, wanted to impress some girls, he got him on the team, and took a few hits to make him look good.

When he and his buddy Connor put dead birds in the weird girl’s locker, he told his sweetheart sorry, and invited the freaky girl publicly for homecoming.

When he stiffed his sweetheart for Marjorie at homecoming, Tony set her up with one of his buddies. He even got to be godfather for their 2nd kid.

When Tessie came home from a date in tears, Tony made sure Connor couldn’t smile without thousands of dollars in implants.

He knew he couldn’t always make it right, he knew that sorry wasn’t good enough, and he knew that Mamma Mary was disappointed in the mess he made. And while Tony was often the one who got everyone in trouble, he sometimes was the one to get people out of it, and he was never the one to leave them in it.

So when Marjorie stood in this office, the mystic ensnared in a web she barely understood. He helped her this far, and she stood alone, dressed down on what was clearly her first day on the job. A line of red ink was written in the ledger of his mind.

"Ok, now wait just a damn minute!"

Captain Lincoln’s mustache flew up in an exhausted sigh.

"What's the Problem? Tony." He asked, answering his own question.

"Captain, we are looking into a potential murder investigation, here! No one is stupid enough to cooperate on a murder charge. She could be looking at 25 years, and her reputation dragged through the mud."

"She’s a minor celebrity, maybe she wants the publicity?"

"Or maybe she wants us to fail. Look, I brought Marjorie along to help me with this case, and I'll own that."

"And has she been helpful, Officer Russo?"

"She has - I think - I - can't quite explain how, but I know she has shown me something here. I just can't explain it."

Isabelle sang a singsong laugh of malice at the comment.

"Oh I bet she showed you something, officer! Just kindly tell me where. So I can have those parts of the room sterilized."

Isabelle laughed a little softer before turning to Captain Lincoln.

"Boys will be boys, I suppose."

The laughter hit the floor like a lead balloon.

Isabelle's eyes darted around the room like a grazing animal that just learned what predators she was trapped with.

Officer Lincoln spoke in a slow careful voice, allowing his voice to reach a deep baritone.

"If you wish to accuse my officers of fraternization, submit a report. I have known Officer Russo for longer than he's been housebroken. And if there is one thing we all know about Ten O'Clock, Tony—"

Officer Russo winces.

"—it's that he is unable to seal the deal with women. Especially with this one."

Both Marjorie and Tony looked at each other before turning beet red and looking away.

Marjorie's eyes went back to the corner. Tony's went to the desk next to him.

There he caught sight of the coffee soaked manila folder. The now distorted folder exposed a secret symbol. Tony cocked his head.

"Hey! Margie, look at this!"

He called out Marjorie while flipping the envelope over so that the "Non - Disclosure" was visible, even if its contents weren't legible.

"I already told you about the multiple policies that were opened, just forget it Tony."

Marjorie said with little interest, her transatlantic accent showing cracks of Buffalo's native dialect.

"What do you mean, forget about it. You ran around showing me square corners and Atlantean robes, but you knew she took out multiple insurance policies!"

"She wasn't that stupid Tony, they are all plausibly legal and separate states. Shady as hell, but technically legal. She didn't take out four life insurance policies or something like that, just 15 Million dollars of coverage for everything."

Isabelle rushed over to the file and snatched it from the table, too busy glaring at Tony to notice a random page falling to the floor.

"I've had enough of all of you. I have been patient with your antics for far too long. My husband was a key stakeholder in my business, and I in his. There is no crime in taking out Key Executive insurance! But there is in what you are doing, Officer Russo! And what about you Officer Lincoln, does his actions represent your department?"

"Madame Lefarge, were you perchance looking into investment firms?"

Captain Lincoln interrupted the heated argument near the desk. Isabelle holding the folder above her head looked past Marjorie and Tony towards the captain.

"Of course I was! My psychic readings have become very popular, I am looking into syndication."

"From The Innsmouth Group?"

She paused. "Why not? They are a legitimate company with deep pockets…"

Isabelle spoke faster than her brain caught up. She watched the captain slowly walk towards the paper on the floor with the Grey, black and Cyan logo. For many Americans, the symbol meant nothing, but everyone in Buffalo knew what that symbol meant. The Carrion King of Creative Destruction, the Harbinger of Layoffs, and woe be those whose symbol was found across shuttered industries and homes.

"You know as well as I do, ma'am, that Innsmouth Capital and Holdings isn't a company that builds things."

Tony interjects. "The hell are you doing with those vultures?"

Marjorie gasps. "The 15 Million, Tony!”

"What?"

Marjorie’s found her excitement again, she prepared to set up a long tirade on the structure of Charles’ Multi-Franchise Empire. Before Isabelle desperately tried to change the conversation.

“Enough! After all of my family’s charity towards this department, get these two out of my office now!”

Tony turned to Officer Lincoln.

"Captain, she's working as an insurance adjuster, she believes she can find Mr Krammer. At least let her make her case, she knows something, I think Isabelle knows it too."

Officer Lincoln took a quick glance at Isabelle and Marjorie; the two’s confidence was switching places. He put his hands behind his back. Looking Isabelle Krammer in the eye while keeping his body in a slight bow.

"I'm not opposed to that, surely you aren't either?"

"Why should I allow it?" Isabelle's voice cracked.

Oliver Lincoln kept his sensitivity training voice steady.

"You've been so hospitable to us so far. - Which I greatly appreciate, ma’am. But if you want to sue us, which you have threatened to do. At least let her make a fool of herself on the record so you can sue us properly. The woman is ‘an idiot parasite,’ and ‘a possible suspect in the disappearance of her father,’ right? You have to lose, and you can assist us in our investigation of Marjorie Alston-Vanderbrunt III?"

Tony was about to add something when Officer Lincoln gave him the side embrace and smile of shut your dumbass mouth up.

Isabelle grimaced.

Captain Lincoln continued.

"Its your call, ma’am. I am very interested in this lead you are offering me, but if you won’t vouch for it, I’ll drop it and we’ll move on. I can make a call to the DA’s Financial Crimes Unit and we can move from a simple discussion about your husband's disappearance into a more lively discussion about your husband's finances."

Isabelle wrapped her cheeks into a confident smile. Her eyes refused to blink as she moved her hands to her bare arms.

The room felt colder.