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Immensely relieved to have a reprieve, Charlie fixed a strong scotch and buried himself in the Sunday papers.
It had nearly killed Marge to miss the Badgett party, especially with the delicious prospect of seeing Mama Badgett on satellite television. What kept her away was a long-pla
Now Marge put a muffin on a plate and placed it in front of him. “Don’t stand there,” she said. “Sit down and eat like a normal human being.”
It was useless to protest. Charlie dutifully pulled out the chair as she poured him a cup of coffee. His vitamins were already lined up next to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
If only he could call up the Badgetts and tell them he wasn’t ever going to walk into their home or office again. If only he could just sit here in this cozy kitchen with Marge and have a peaceful breakfast without ever having to think about the brothers again.
Marge poured her own coffee and slathered jam on a muffin. “Now tell me,” she ordered. “What happened at the party? The way you dragged yourself in last night, it must have been awful. Didn’t the satellite hookup work?”
“Unfortunately, it came through loud and clear.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘unfortunately?’ ”
“Mama Heddy-A
Frustrated, Marge thumped the table with her clenched fist. “I can’t believe I missed that. Why do I only go with you to the boring parties? And to think I was the one who said Thanksgiving weekend was a bad time to have our reunion. What did I ever do to deserve this?”
Charlie sipped the last of his coffee. “I wish I had missed it! Those two are going to be in one foul mood today.” It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that it was now obvious to everyone present at the party that the Badgett brothers had not been back to Wallonia since they left it, and to relate to her Mama’s own words, “How much bad you do, you can’t come visit your mama?”
Charlie had never had the courage to tell Marge that it was only after he was in too deep to get out that he had learned the full extent of the situation in Wallonia. Junior and Eddie had been sentenced, in absentia, to life imprisonment there, for a host of crimes Charlie didn’t even want to think about. They could never go back, and he could never get away from them.
With something akin to despair, he got up, kissed the top of Marge’s head, went to the closet, put on his overcoat, picked up his briefcase, and left.
The Badgett office building where Charlie worked was in Rosewood, about fifteen minutes away from the estate. Junior and Eddie were already there when Charlie arrived. They were in Junior’s private office, and to Charlie’s surprise both men were in remarkably good spirits. He had expected them to be in foul moods and to somehow manage to blame at least part of the Mama fiasco on him.
On the drive there from Little Neck he had been preparing his defense: “I suggested you make the donation for the wing, give the party, and present the portrait. The satellite hookup was your idea.”
But, of course, Charlie knew that was the last thing he could say. Any hint that Mama’s appearance had been less than a delight would be unforgivable. By now the brothers would have figured out another reason why the party had been a colossal flop.
The entertainment, Charlie thought. They’ll decide that Nor Kelly and Billy Campbell didn’t cut the mustard. They’ll blame Jewel for suggesting them and me for hiring them. As he turned into the reserved parking area, he suddenly remembered how upset Kelly and Campbell had been when they came out of Junior’s office yesterday.
The brothers must have found fault with the way they sang “Happy Birthday” in Wallonian, Charlie decided. Reluctantly he turned off the ignition, got out of the car, and pressed the “lock” symbol on his key ring. Dragging his feet, he walked to the building and took the elevator to the fourth floor, which was entirely dedicated to the Badgett brothers’ quasi-legitimate enterprises.
The reason for the early meeting was that Junior was interested in purchasing a new car dealership in Syosset that was begi
“Tell him to come on in,” Junior’s genial voice boomed on the intercom.
The office had been done by the same decorator who had lavished his excesses on the mansion. An ornately carved partner desk with a shiny finish, gold-striped wallpaper, a dark brown carpet emblazoned with the brothers’ initials in gold, heavy brown satin draperies, and a glass-enclosed miniature village with a plaque inscribed OUR BOYHOOD HOME were only some of the points of interest.
To the left of the door, a couch and chairs upholstered in a zebra pattern were grouped around a forty-inch television screen hung on the wall.
The brothers were drinking coffee and watching the local station. Junior waved Charlie in, pointing to a chair. “The news is coming on, I wa
“After six hours, the warehouse fire in Syosset is still burning fiercely,” the reporter at the news desk began. “Two firemen have been treated for smoke inhalation. The owner of the warehouse, Hans Kramer, suffered a heart attack at the site, and has been removed to St. Francis hospital, where he is now in intensive care…”
Vivid images of the blazing building appeared. On a split screen, a tape was rerun of a fireman administering CPR to Hans Kramer, who was stretched on the ground, an oxygen mask clamped over his face.
“That’s enough, Eddie. Turn it off.” Junior got up. “Still burning, huh? Must be some heck of a fire.”
“Faulty wiring, I bet.” Eddie shook his head. “Happens, huh, Junior?”
Hans Kramer. Charlie knew that name. He’d been to see Junior at the mansion. He was one of the people who received “private loans” from the brothers. They did this to him. He didn’t pay on time, Charlie thought with absolute certainty, so they burned down his business.
This scenario had been played out before. If the cops can prove Junior and Eddie had anything to do with this fire, they’ll be facing another arson charge, Charlie thought, quickly assessing the situation. If Kramer dies, they could be facing a murder rap.
But of course, none of this would ever be traced back to the Badgetts. They were too careful. The loan Kramer signed with them probably had a normal interest rate on the face of the note. No one would know that the fifty percent interest rate had already been built into the principal. And of course the guy who actually set the fire would not be one of the thugs on their payroll. For that they would have contracted a free-lancer.
But if anything comes up to tie this fire to Junior and Eddie, I get the job of helping people to forget what they know or think they know, Charlie thought despairingly.
“Hey, Charlie, why so glum?” Junior asked. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
“Yeah, a really great morning,” Eddie echoed, as he got up.
“And, like Jewel said, Mama was cute as a button on the satellite,” Junior added. “She always loved her grappa. Like Jewel said, after Eddie and I went into the office yesterday, everyone kept saying that Mama was adorable.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, his smile becoming nostalgic.