The Question

The Question

Questions are always being asked In hopes of an answer I suppose. But not everyone thinks like you or me, they do not necessarily ask questions in hopes of obtaining an answer, that is not their purpose. I know a man, well, don’t really know him, but have been hired to keep an eye on the whereabouts of someone I know of. Why? I didn’t ask, it is not the type of question you should ask; nor would he have told me had I asked.Sometimes it’s best to not know the business of another; safer that way. I knew a few things about Abe Dumbrowski; he was a low rung on the ladder kind of thief. He either lived like a king or a pauper, depending on the business he transacted, and how beneficial it proved to be. I don’t normally when hired to watch someone, introduce myself, but then in Abe’s case I thought it prudent to do so. I assumed if he saw me, and recognized me, he wouldn’t be as apt to think I was hired to watch him.

Abe was living in his car when we met, by accident of course. His car was permanently parked on Rudolph street, a dead end with only one house that hasn’t mysteriously caught fire for insurance purposes. No one cared if the ordinances stated all vehicles had to be moved every 48 hours. Most people in our section of town didn’t pay much attention to signs, I’m not sure most could read. Anyway He was sleeping in the back seat, his legs over the front seats, and snoring like a drunken crocodile when I knocked on the window.

I’ve found over the years that inclusion is one sure way to get someone on your side without them knowing it. If they are down on their luck all the better. He opened one eye and then the other, looked at me and then closed them again.He didn’t appear to want to join the land of the living. I held a twenty-dollar bill on the window glass and knocked again with my free hand.He yawned and then opened his eyes once again; his face had taken on the I’d kill him if I thought I could get away with it look. He saw the twenty and maneuvered himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes and looked again at the twenty-dollar bill before rolling down the window.

“I’m not homeless, you know.The church is two blocks that away,” he said pointing up.

“Yes, I know, but I’m not looking for a church, I’m looking for someone named Abe.”

“No one here by that name.”

“That’s too bad, I was told he might be in need of employment.”

“Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might!.... I’ll tell you what, if I sees him I’ll let him know that someone is looking for him and wants to offer him a job. What might this job be? Abe is pretty talented, but terribly choosy about what he does, if you gets my meaning.”

“I do get the meaning.I also had intended, should I run into Abe Dumbrowski, to see if he’d be interested in following someone to know where he might be going. He doesn’t have to do anything, talk to him, nothing like that. All he’d have to do is follow him, and write down where he goes.I assume this Abe fella can write?”

“It sounds like the kind of thing Abe could be interested in. How much money we talking about, and for how long do you want this fella followed; incase I run into Abe?”

“I was to offer Abe, should I find him, two-hundred and fifty dollars if he agreed to follow this guy for three or four days; couple of hours a day tops. This guy doesn’t normally go out much, afraid of catching something, so when he does go out it’s usually to a specific destination, and then right back home. He pretty much has his food delivered; he’s kind of a recluse, don’t like people much.If you see Abe, tell him to let me know if he’s interested and I’ll explain what I need him to do exactly.”

Abe looked like he was thinking about owning up to him being Abe, when he gets out of the car and stands on one leg, leaning against the front door, and says, “Abe’s going to want to know where this guy lives. I assume he lives somewhere, and if he could get a loan, of let’s say $50 dollars so he could take care of a few business transactions before beginning work. And he’d probably want to know if this guy’s got a name, he thinks it helps when you are watchin somebody to know who you is watching.”

“I’ll tell you what.Here’s fifty; tell Abe the guy’s name is Riddle, Thomas E. Riddle. He lives in an apartment on 32nd and Jeffeson; only apartment building on the block, the only building actually. The rest got taken down to expand the freeway through his part of town. Here’s my card; If Abe needs anything or wants to get in touch, call the number on the back, not the one on the front; that one is for something different. I may answer, or may not. So let it ring. Tell Abe to let it ring.”

I left Abe’s double standing by the car on his one good leg, the other one had apparently fallen asleep from sleeping in the back seat of his car. I expect to hear from him soon if he wants that other two hundred dollars.It’s just a matter of waiting now, and hoping Abe gives Abe the message.

#

Funny how when people wants something, they wants it right now. I don’t know that guy from anyone, he could be one of the assassin types with time on his hands and a thirst for doing people in, if’n he don’t like the way they look or how they talks. You can’t be too careful in this neighborhood.

I’m going over to 32nd Street and see if I can locate this Riddle guys apartment.Feeling’s startin to come back.It’s happened before where I couldn’t stand for a couple of days, it’s much better this time. I’m only a couple of blocks from where this guy Riddle lives.Funny name for a guy who’s getting followed. I think I know the building, it is the only one left standing, but not because of no freeway. The guy who owns it wants more money, and if they try and pull that eminent domain stuff on him, he’s moving down to the next block where he’s got another building, right smart fella. Someone either got tipped, or is just unlikely lucky to have bought two buildings in the path of a new roadway.

The apartment building is a four-story affair, with a rickety old stairwell going up the back to the second floor. I supposed it was a fire escape when people cared about stuff like that. lucky for me there is a bus bench across from the building and in the shade. Things are looking up already. I didn’t have to wait long, only had a chance to smoke two cigarettes before this older looking guy, overweight by at least 150 pounds, and limps like me, but I don’t think it’s from his leg falling asleep. I got a picture from whoever that guy was so I’d know what this Riddles looks like. He starts climbin the stairs, takes him like half an hour; I got so I felt like going over and helping him up the stairs so I wouldn’t have to keep watching. He finally gets to the top, fumbles with some keys, opens this metal door, and disappears.

I was thinking he was probably getting back from where ever it is he goes, so might as well go home and wait for tomorrow when I’ll have a chance to see where he’s going. Before I could get up from the bench, I see him sitting in a window. He must live in the first apartment after you get in the door. I watch him for a while and he just sits there like he’s thinking, and then he gets up and disappears again. Two minutes later he’s back, and he’d got this parrot on his shoulder and he seems to be talking to it, like they was havin an argument. Just as he sits down a car pulls up out front of the building and these two big fellas dressed in black suits and wearing purple shirts, and what looks like pink ties, gets out of the car and heads straight for the back of the building. I watch them climb the stairs, two steps at a time, and when they get to the door they starts pounding on it with the buts of these guns.

I’m getting kind of nervous and get up from the bench and duck behind it. I don’t want to get shot by someone for a mistaken identity claim.Then they gets tired of pounding on the door and starts back down the stairs, gets in their car, and leaves.This Riddle guy has been sitting in the window arguin with the bird the whole time. He doesn’t seem worried in the least; the bird seemed more worried than he does. He then pulls the curtain and I can’t see nothin much more, so I go home. Tomorrows soon enough if I’m a goin to gets shot by mistake.

It was a long night, nothing on TV worth watching, but I watched it anyway cause I ain’t got nothing else to do, and being that I’m living in my car temporarily I’ve got to watch what the neighbors watch, but then it’s free, don’t cost either of us anything, advertising paying for both of us. I got up early because of Dippy, the neighbor’s dog, not my usual preference, and decided seeing as I didn’t have nothing to eat but two of those little round donuty lookin things, and they was a might hard, I might just as well go over to Riddle’s and make sure I could catch him before he takes off on his rounds.

Someone was kind enough to leave their coffee container on the counter at the corner store when they went to use the gents, so I had that and bought some more of those round thingy’s, chocolate this time for a change, and went to enjoy the morning on the bench across from the apartment. I hardly finished my first-round thingy when I sees him get up from his chair, and then a few seconds later the door opens. He’s got this cane with him this time and is working his large frame down the steps carrying a coffee in one hand, a paper tucked under his arm, and smoking a cigar. The smoke seeming to hang about his head like a halo in the fresh sun shine. It was quite a sight; made me almost hope he’d make it to the bottom without hurting himself.

I watched him cross 32nd Street, walking right passed me like I weren’t there, goes halfway down the block and turns into the alley. I knows this booky guy who lives in an old garage down that alley.Thought maybe he was going there being he had that paper, on the back page, racing form I’m guessing. So I gets up reluctantly like, didn’t want to hurt myself, and follows him to the alley. I look down it and he’s already gone. Shorty I know lives down a ways yet, so I can’t see how he got lost that quick.I walk down and see this door partially open yet, but closing fast, got one of those air things that ain’t workin right, so I goes in and takes the steps up. I can hear his feet a making the stairs squeak above me. I listen and hear a door openin with complaint, and then close with a bang. Now I don’t know which room he’s gone into, but thought I’d at least get to the right floor for starters.

The first door I come to has a sign painted on this rippley looking glass; Henry Bent, Attorney at Law.That can’t be him I’m thinking, so I goes to the next door and there ain’t no sign, but the doors kind of open, at least it looks like it, but it’s kind of dark. I push on the door and the room is empty. There’s a window on the back wall and I see him in this balcony-type room, cept it’s outside . I walk to the window careful so he don’t see me, and look out. He’s taking off his shoes and socks. So I just watch, can’t figure what he’s doing that for, it’s kind of cold. There’s this railing made of bricks and it’s got a cement cap on top. I watch him walk to the end where a wall juts out.He’s barefoot now. He climbs onto this parapet type thing, pulling himself up with the aid of an old TV antenna. He just stands there looking down, like he ain’t too sure he should be up there in the first place.

I don’t know what he’d got planned, so I don’t know what to do. I’m thinking he’s going to jump, but then people do weird stuff just for the entertainment it provides um. In his case I’m thinking, it ain’t the view. I hear this motor outside stop by the door, so I moves down to the next window where there ain’t no balcony thing, and look down. It’s another guy in a black like limo. He’s dressed like he’d going to the opera or something, and there’s this other guy sitting in the back seat like he’s the boss. He rolls the window down and says something to the guy dressed to kill, and the guy walks toward the door.

I don’t know if I should warn this Riddle guy, or hide. I ‘d left the door open so I can hear the footsteps on the stairs squawking their way toward us…me. There’s no place to really hide but a closet. If I go in the closet I can’t see what’s going on, and if I don’t know I might not get my $200 dollars I got coming.

I decide the two hundred is probably worth the risk, so I keep looking out the window. I hear a door open and then bang shut. I’m assuming the dude fella went to see the lawyer.My guy is still on the wall top hanging on to the TV antenna tighter, like he’s losing his nerve but can’t figure out how to get out of the fix he’s put himself in. Then I see this guy in the car below stick his head out and yell something at the top of the building. Then I hear two shots, sounded like shots anyway. I had heard gun shots before and that’s what they sounded like, so I figured. Something about gun shots breaking up the silence that stays with you like oatmeal.

I look back and this Riddle guy has let go of the antenna pole and looks to be getting ready to dive onto the car down below. I hear a door slam and the retreating squeaks on the steps, then another bang as the door below must’ve been closed. This Riddle guy is bending his knees, like he’s a diver at a pool. The big guy in the car looks at the tuxedoed looking dude and smiles. Then, like a cloud descendin from one of those bible stories, it throws a blanket over the limo and the big man, like a shroud, ….. and then I…. maybe it was some kind of premonition thing I’m thinking, or it could have been the chocolate round thingy’s. It don’t matter none, I got this dream off’n a guy who was kind of hard up for luck, just for listenin!