Chapter Six
Ambrosio, the henchman of Di Laure, came into the Gladeview pawnshop the following morning, while Clarity was at the counter, attending the shop. The driver of Mannen was out on the street, to get his morning coffee. The retainer of Di Laure looked behind the counter where Clarity was standing, glancing at the smorgasbord of electric guitars, portable boom box equipment, loudspeakers, and television sets offered second hand by the place. He placed his elbows on the glass counter, and turned to Clarity.
"So, you know about this Cayman Gazette thing?"
Clarity shook her head, ignoring the question, offering a pair of watches to the henchman of Di Laure.
"No, never heard of it."
"We don't like that kind of publication. We know your boss wants to bring in a new bank here in Miami, and we are not on the same page with that. Mr. Di Laure strongly suggests looking into a different line of business for Mr. Mannen." Ambrosio looked around the shop.
"Do you have any fitballs? Mr. Mannen told me they came with their own instructors."
Clarity looked below the counter at the back office camera, and saw Mannen naked, trying out a new position with Peachy, who was naked herself.
"No, our fitballs are pawned for now." She ventured to ask her own question, to sort of defend the turf of the owner of the pawnshop.
"You selling Mclannan? Not a bad business." Ambrosio shook his head.
"No, that's ours, but Mr. Di Laure may end up getting this pawnshop. He wants a pawnshop, and this pawnshop is kinda bothering his own business. Tell Mr. Mannen, that we want to see the statutes of Gladeview here, we want to see the connection of this pawnshop with Lofty."
The henchman of Di Laure walked out of the shop, and Clarity sighed, relieved that the man had finally left. She called Mannen in his office after his morning routine was finished, and the chubby pawnshop owner appeared at the front counter, leaving Peachy in his office, working on a new sexercise routine for the following day. Mannen went over the facts of the previous day with Clarity, and also over the visit of Ambrosio.
"Ollie made a call yesterday, that's all I know," she said. She was sitting on a chair near the counter of the pawnshop, with Mannen walking back and forth, reflecting on what happened the previous day. Outside the pawnshop, Baggio was standing, smoking a cigarette, looking for customers. She read a loose leaf page acting as a bookmark for the Cocoanomics manual. The research written on the sheet by Baggio, found on the pages of mobbingboard, listed the real estate company found in the file of Aerial Window Stock as belonging to Di Laure. The back of the loose leaf listed Moe as a shareholder of Mclannan's. Mannen looked over the shoulder of Clarity.
"Di Laure brought in the two stooges from Cayman," said Mannen. "This is not good, don't trust that guy, Ollie, he probably called Di Laure, and that is probably why Ambrosio showed up today. Then Moe is going to get involved, pretty sure of that. This is the work of Moe. We got to get back at her. This woman is going to get rid of this pawnshop before my own bank begins to work here in Miami. She already sent these nosey guys from Cayman to me, my whole leasing arrangement at Swankeye was in danger. Only my shrewd invitation into the home to Taylor and the other guy, after their call, avoided more questions from them."
The tenant and ultimate owner of Swankeye called Harvege, inquiring about the services offered to him recently by Moe. The head of meat distribution in the South District, confirmed to Mannen that he'd seen a girl, a college student named Mary Jill, in the last few weeks, sent to him by Moe, to coax him into signing their business agreement, which divided meat packing and distribution areas in South Florida. Mannen looked at several furniture places and told Clarity to go to one of them on Biscayne Boulevard. Before lunch time, Clarity walked into the shop scribbled on a piece of paper, Modali furniture, a chic retailer of household furniture that had a sleek, high-end showroom. The salesman in the shop, Dennis, a former client of Mannen's pawnshop who'd pawned some furniture in the past, welcomed her. Giving Clarity a tour of the place, Dennis showed her the Brewer, a queen sleeper sofa, sofa, loveseat and chair package. The sofa had tapered cushions, detached back pillows, and reversible beige color seat cushions. The furniture salesman then walked her to the garden area of the shop, showing her several terrace sets with benches and coffee tables. Clarity noticed a wooden front porch swing with comfortable pillows, placed alongside a bar cart.
"All right, not bad, got something a bit more sporty?"
The clerk showed her the Mable Swing, a three spot comfy sofa with lacquered aluminum frame, which looked pretty sturdy. The swing was remotely operated, to adjust the type of swing desired, countryside lullaby, or the more vigorous roller coaster theme park mode, for celebrations, weekends or just more dynamic conversations in general.
"Yeah, this is better, let me see the various modes of it and how it works." The assistant of Dennis, a man named Charlie, dressed in overalls, in charge of general maintenance, brought the remote to show how the piece of furniture worked. Dennis sat on the swing and Charlie pressed on the remote button, activating the swinging motion. The piece of furniture began swaying gently, in pendular fashion. Dennis gave the go ahead to Charlie to increase the motion, and the assistant focused on the remote. A slight malfunction in the intensity regulator of the remote pulled the swing back three feet instead of one. Looking at his elevated boss, Charlie lowered the intensity back to one, and the swing descended back down, at a remarkable speed. Dennis held on to the cushions of the swing, until the furniture threw him out several feet in the air, by receding all of a sudden, from the bottom of the clerk. The furniture salesman made it past the first table set in front of the swing, landing on a sofa fifteen feet away.
"Not bad," said Clarity, "this one will do. We need to make a few adjustments, but it will do."
Clarity reported back to Mannen. The chubby pawnshop owner looked at a few ideas of the Cocoanomics manual, and gave another set of instructions to Clarity. That afternoon, she made a phone call to the number of Moe Alamy that Mannen had given her. Her housekeeper, Chiara, answered the phone. Moe rarely used smartphones, she liked others to do that for her.
"Mr. Harvege would like to send Miss Moe a piece of furniture to her home, in Richmond West, thanking her for the services provided recently to him. Do you have the address please?"
The housekeeper checked the veracity of the information by calling Harvege in his home in Fort Myers. After confirming the gift from Harvege was genuine, she gave Clarity the address of Moe for the delivery of the furniture.
"You can deliver the furniture at 14270 south west 176 street. Miss Moe is going to be there all of next week." Clarity jotted down the address and thanked the housekeeper.
The following day, Clarity drove with Baggio to the Diner, owned by Moe, in Key Largo. The driver gave her some money and told her a few things about the place. Leaving the driver outside, Clarity walked into the diner and took a seat on a stool at the bar counter. The woman in charge of the place, Donna, was cooking some eggs for one or two customers who were sitting at the booths. Clarity commended the work of Donna, letting her know that she was doing a lot of good work, to keep the place clean and nice for customers. The floor was always very clean. She began to ask some questions about the owner of the place, and Donna began to talk about her boss. According to Donna, Moe Alamy liked to take long walks with her poodle Quincy. She enjoyed lunch at one of the locations of Mclannan's in Miami, usually getting a well done Ollie burger with a Mclannan's apple. The Mclannan's apple of Moe, was half an apple of the Honeycrisp variety, brought in for her, from an orchard in New York. Moe was frugal, and she kept the other half in her pocket, for her own dinner on those days when she visited the burger place.
"She has a home in Richmond West I hear." Asked Clarity. Donna nodded. Her inclination to gossip was too tempting for her to resist.
"Yeah, she does. If you give me something, I'll tell you what she does in the home."
Clarity followed the instructions of
Baggio. Never mention the name of Buddha Talk or Mannen, while inquiring on his behalf.
"Mr. Harvege will offer you a nightstand for the bedroom," she said. She added. "It's important to keep all of this to yourself." She handed the waitress five bills of twenty dollars each, amounting to one hundred dollars. Donna placed the bills in her purse, and leaned towards Clarity.
"All right, this is what happens there."
Donna explained that the home of the old lady in Richmond West was used by Moe Alamy as a place for casting good looking women brought in from the Diner after they'd worked there as waitresses. Moe had her own porn business, socialpornformemoe.me, and the old lady casts herself in the videos she made, telling the newbies brought in that the work paid better than working as a waitress. Before agreeing to go for a casting meeting, the women checked the profile of Moe Alamy online, at Moe.me. Reassured by the fact that the old lady owned a Diner in Key Largo, many women tried out for the porn audition.
"She does this on Wednesdays," said Donna. "Tuesdays is when she has lunch at Mclannan."
Clarity thanked Donna and headed back to the Jaguar of Mannen, where Baggio was waiting for her. She hopped in the backseat and turned on the small television set in the back, checking the calendar. In four days, she'd go meet Moe Alamy while she enjoyed her lunch at Mclannan's.
After a few days of tanning naked at the poolside of Swankeye, Clarity left with Baggio inside Jaguar 73 the following Tuesday. The driver of Mannen left Clarity two blocks away from the restaurant, so that she could walk there without attracting attention. Around eleven thirty, Moe Alamy walked through the doors of the burger place, and sat in a booth, leaving her poodle beside it. She ordered her regular meal and began to read the Miami Herald. From her own booth, sitting a few feet away, Clarity observed her, and got up to talk to her after a few minutes.
"Miss Alamy, could I talk to you for a second?"
Moe Alamy lifted her eyes and recognized Clarity from the Diner.
"You're with Mannen, right? Staying with him?"
"Yes."
"He does have good taste. You're very pretty, sweetie."
Clarity nearly blushed, and at the same time, almost burst out a spontaneous thank you. She wasn't used to blunt compliments from old ladies. The way she said that felt so good to her.
"Mr. Mannen is all right, but he doesn't pay that much. I heard you have a side business," said Clarity.
Moe let Clarity sit beside her in the booth. Leaving the half apple for later, the old lady mentioned the casting call audition to Clarity, as a way to make some money.
"Not sure," said Clarity. The teleoperator from Malibu looked at the poodle, that was sleeping near the booth. "Do you need someone to walk the poodle? I can do that, while you work on some other things at home."
The eyes of Moe lit up with that little old lady look, which said she wanted to bring Clarity into her home.
"We can do that. You can reflect on what I told you and what I do. Why don't you come into my home tomorrow, in the morning, I'll be in my home doing some things. My housekeeper will pick you up at Swankeye at nine thirty."