Chapter 14 The Return of the City Seal
On Tuesday morning, Dignity was in his work clothes again and trudging toward the shed that held the riding mower at Founders Grove, when his phone rang in his pocket.
“Mr. Dignity, it’s Providence Means. Good news. I’m happy to tell you that the City has accepted your offer.”
“What? Why would they do that? They did?”
“They did. As to why, it’s all a matter of timing.”
“Good golly, I’ve got to tell Reason this! What do I need to do?”
“You already signed the paperwork, and I’ll be running that over to Lawyer Snare immediately. Then it will be officially filed with the court before the day’s over. That still leaves us with a two week period when all parties involved are allowed to raise objections, but I don’t foresee any such trouble. What I mean is, if anybody tries to object, Judge Hate-Good will squash it. He knows the City wants the land.”
“And the liability for accidents?”
“Not yours anymore. It’s the City’s.”
“Now? Immediately?”
“Yes, immediately.”
“What about upkeep? The mowing?”
“Stop fighting it, Mr. Dignity. You’re a free man.”
Means then explained why the City desperately wanted the land it had so recently been unwilling to even keep mowed. Dignity ended the call with his fervent thanks. Then he looked at the shed, looked at the long grass all around him, slowly turned, and walked back to his car. Free.
He had settled behind the steering wheel and was starting to phone his wife, when Adversity leaned his big, ugly face down and peered in the open window.
“Hey, bub, come to mow again?” he asked, grinning.
“Not actually.”
“Grass don’t get no shorter, you know. Better not put it off. ”
Dignity handed him the key to the shed. “Here, since you’re so concerned. Don’t forget to check the oil level before you start.”
He started the car and drove off.
Old Mrs. Gossip left her hedge trimming and carried her clippers right down to the corner of Sandhill and Flood where she was greeted by her neighbors Mr. Wag and Mr. Moper. Both men were wearing blue uniform shirts with name badges that identified them as members of the new Volunteer Citizens Guard that had just been inaugurated by Mayor Therion. Behind their thin and geriatric line of officialdom some City workers were setting up a tall ladder against the front of Leasing House. Neighborhood kids of pre-school age were watching from across the street. All around the house was tied a single strand of yellow ribbon printed on in black, the usual sort of ribbon used to warn people to keep out of a building.
“What’s happening this morning?” she said cheerily to her two old friends. “They haven’t finally condemned the place, have they?”
This was not a real question, for she could plainly see the red sign posted on the door. She merely wanted to put off a bit the burden of pretending to feel sorry about it.
Wag nodded his gray head and pursed his lips in a way that she knew indicated phony regret. No one in the neighborhood would lament the loss of the Leasings.
“And the Leasings are gone? They’ve been Relocated?”
“Nope, they’re still in there. Doors are locked, you know, and not a peep out of them. The police were here earlier trying to get them to come out, but didn’t want to break the door. But have no fear, the Leasings will be out before the bulldozer comes.”
She slowly shook her head with eyes closed, hoping she looked sufficiently affected.
“All Guiles had to do was keep the place up,” Mr. Moper said almost angrily. “He must have seen this coming, so why didn’t he maintain his own house?”
This question initiated a spate of remembrances of foolish neglect and of warnings given in plenty of time that was only interrupted when Mrs. Gossip noticed one of the workmen ascending the ladder.
“They’re taking the City Seal back,” she said with neither animation nor surprise. What else, she thought, could be expected?
In Grace House, Love Orchard had come to Grace’s suite of rooms, bringing Dignity and Reason with her. Now she sat on one of the chairs near the hearth and addressed the others. Already the little group had discussed both the memo stolen from Chief Sordid and the condemnation of Leasing House.
“I’ve been looking things up on the internet,” Love said. “Guiles’ property taxes went unpaid for so long that he lost the property to the City. But it says someone willing to pay the back taxes could redeem the house.”
“My dear,” said Grace, “you’re right about the law, but unfortunately the redemption deadline passed long ago. Later there was an online auction, but no one would bid on a place so nearly falling down.”
“Oh, I would have if I’d known! Then I would have had it quickly repaired and would have given it back to the Leasings. Of course, I would have needed help with the repair money.”
Love looked to Reason and Dignity, as if to ask confirmation that they would have contributed to the expense, but their expressions showed her that they felt they had better investment opportunities.
Dignity said, “I’ve only just got clear of Guiles’ latest trap for me, the worst yet. I don’t want to seem callous, but I’d be very happy never to have anything to do with him again. Spend money on him! I’ve spent more than I could afford over and over again, to get free from whatever was his latest scheme.”
Reason nodded. “Christian benevolence is one thing, Love, but for us, year after year, it’s been just, how do we weather whatever assault Guiles is making on our pocketbooks and our reputations? How do you be good to someone in the midst of being attacked? Even now, we don’t know for sure that this deal that Lawyer Means worked out with the City will hold. The final hearing is two weeks away.”
Love found herself with nothing to say. She was a witness to the multiple stresses Guiles had subjected her friends to, the frauds, manipulations, vicious slanders, and shameless trickery. Rather than try to persuade them to help, she turned her eyes to Grace.
“Sir?”
“When the auction period came last year, not even I placed a bid,” Grace said, “because I couldn’t get a response from Guiles to work something out. All I needed was a few assurances on his part, arrived at in a face to face meeting. But my dear, I want to inform you that Heaven would still love to have that Leasing property. If properly handled, it’s value will go up steeply.”
Dignity nodded to this with a sheepish look. Love guessed that he was remembering when Grace had taken this house they were sitting in, at a time when no one else wanted it.
“So the legal stuff is already over and past,” Love said sadly and almost to herself. She looked up. “But if the City got the house because of delinquent tax payments, why weren’t Guiles and his family moved out long ago? Why was he able to stay put and act as if it were his?”
Reason made an impatient sound. “Just another one of those sweet, law-bending deals the City was always giving him. With the right connections, he could get away with anything. That’s also why his house wasn’t condemned until now. He was a such a conniver.”
Love could not help but notice that Reason was speaking of Guiles in the past tense, and it frightened her. Was she the only one unwilling to give up?
“So what’s to be done?” she asked, turning her sorrowful gaze to Dignity.
“Nothing, I’m afraid,” he said. “Sometimes we just have to admit that others have their free will. Guiles had a long run, but even he couldn’t weasel his way out of this fiasco with the memo. This is the end.”
Grace stirred. “I would not say quite the end necessarily. No, not quite. The condemnation order will never be rescinded, of course, but the question is: Can some time be bought for Leasing House?” He looked around at the others. “Or to put it more pointedly: does anyone want Leasing House to have more time?”
Love sa
w with a heartache that Reason and Dignity were embarrassed for an answer.
“Patience does,” she said in a low voice. “I know he’s not here, but I’ll answer for him. He will come.”
Sordid was visiting in Mr. Power’s office that morning, filling him in on as much of the Leasing House situation as was healthy to be revealed. This involved explaining decisions he had been making without proper permission, which was always difficult when reporting to Power. But he had learned that Leasing House was still standing, that Guiles had not lit the match, so something had to be done fast. Fortunately, Power had already been drinking, which tended to mellow him.
“Yeah, I had Leasing House moved to next on the list to be demolished,” he said. “Now hang on, let me explain about that. Ever since Dignity’s parents moved out of Guiles’ place, he’s lost his lever to influence Dignity away from the Heavenites. And in fact Guiles just hasn’t cut the mustard for years, no matter what we’ve tried to use him for. The Mammons have been losing money, lots of it, maintaining him, partly because he’s provided us a great example of devotion to our values, but mostly because we thought he might draw Grace House and Hope House in our direction. He has family connections with both and really should have reeled in at least a few of those traitors.”
“But the little squeaker came up empty,” Power said. He stood facing Sordid with necktie askew, looking at the Chief with one eye nearly closed as if sighting on a pool ball. “Still, he always did what he was told, didn’t he?”
Sordid noted the past tense, smiled, and continued more confidently. “But now it’s time for the subsidy to stop. Anyway, it’s been embarrassing that a house with a City Seal is so dilapidated. Better to bring it down.”
In all their conversation the Chief had made no reference to the lost report, for Power must see no connection. This was being presented as nothing more than a matter of jettisoning an impediment to the City administration’s plans and reputation. Power and the Mayor now believed Sordid’s fresh statement that the report had been found and destroyed before it reached the news media. Sordid still had not had time to torture confessions out of Abject and Scapegoat, but that could wait.
Power waved a hand vaguely. “Hell, Leasing wasn’t going to last much longer anyway. There’s only another year or so to go on the City Seal agreement, and then he had to go by-by. It’s all signed in blood.”
“That’s true that he got just a set number of years before Relocation,” Sordid said, “but the contract also said four years at the most. That means it’s our discretion, and this is no time to maintain someone who doesn’t come through for us. You might even say he’s providing our enemies with ammunition, because he’s made us look bad with all his embezzling and fraud, and because he hasn’t held a job in ten years. Here’s a guy who is the main representative of the City in the Sandhill neighborhood, and he stinks on ice. I mean, Hope House defected after Guiles got his Seal, and they’re right across the street from him, for God’s sake, where they can see it every day. I say Guiles has got to go, if only to prevent more defections. He’s not corrupting them; he’s like a cautionary tale. Say, I’ve got one of my agents ready to roll with the bulldozer. OK, sir?”
When Power had blearily agreed and had informed his new secretary, Sordid left him quickly and was on his cell phone as soon as he was outside the door.
“We’ve got the order,” he said to an employee. “Cut ’em off.”
City utility vehicles had been parked along Sandhill Street. Suddenly, workers emerged from them and hastened to shut off gas, electricity, and water to Leasing House. The cable company had already been at work disconnecting their line.
Watching this, Citizen Volunteer Moper turned to Citizen Volunteer Wag and asked, “So where’s the bulldozer?”
“Won’t be long now,” was the reply. “Probably tomorrow morning.”