Chapter 2
It was about 8 p.m., and Righty realized he had inadequate time to do anything of consequence, so he began chatting with the konulans while he prepared twenty pounds worth of Smokeless Green for his friends in Sivingdel. He asked them a lot of questions about the ranch hands, and he was happy to learn that the konulans viewed them favorably. They had overheard them say they looked forward to working with Mr. Simmers because he seemed like the kind of guy who was firm but fair.
Righty would have been happy enough to hear such a kind compliment to his face, but there was an even greater pleasure in learning of kind words spoken in his absence, as they were unlikely to be flattery.
By 8:15 p.m. he was soaring towards the junkyard. He hoped to get there a little early so he could have a chat with Tats.
He didn’t need a guide this time to find his house, but his knowledge of the house’s location proved superfluous tonight, as he found Tats in the junkyard with Crabs, Chalky, and quite a few of the rest of the gang. Righty greeted them all warmly but wasted little time in letting Tats know he desired a private audience.
They began walking towards the location where the junkyard ended and the countryside began. Once there, Righty got right to the point:
“I’ve been made aware of an exciting new possibility, Tats. It could mean more money—and I mean lots more. It could also give us the ability to pick apart at this city little by little and keep a low profile while we’re doing it. There are just two problems. One, I don’t have the necessary supply yet for the plan I’ve got in mind. Two, I need a foreign connection.”
Righty then proceeded to explain the gold mine discovery in Sodorf and its ramifications.
“I’ve got the solution to one of your problems, Mr. Brass,” Tats said, looking at him squarely in the eye.
“Shoot.”
“Not so fast.”
Tats’ countenance wasn’t exactly aggressive, but Righty suspected he was on the verge of making a condition, and he further suspected it was going to be too good for Righty to turn down.
Tats didn’t disappoint him.
“I’ve got a connection that’s ironclad—that can be trusted and can move whatever quantity you want. I’ll just need to talk to the person first.”
Righty gulped. Even based off of what he had heard so far, he suspected he wouldn’t be able to easily turn down whatever it was Tats asked for. He thought back to his initial start in the junkyard, having to dust the heads of several toughs with his knuckles and then facing one ambush after another before a semblance of stability was achieved.
He knew that in Sodorf he was going to have to tread extra lightly, as he only spoke a tiny bit of the language, and the last thing he wanted to do was call any suspicion to himself there and get on bad terms with Pitkins. He knew that even with Harold’s help he would probably not have survived the recent attack in the alley had it not been for both the sword and training provided by Pitkins. And while Pitkins couldn’t take the sword back, he could terminate his lessons at the drop of a hat, thus grinding his rapidly developing skills to a halt.
Nothing could be better than a good, professional contact that he could get straight down to business with and still keep a low profile.
“Mr. Brass?”
He had been caught in another reverie.
“Yeah, Tats, just thinking is all.”
Tats decided to go ahead and add a little food for thought.
“This person . . . I know she’s trustworthy.”
This brought Righty’s mind to a sudden halt.
“She?!” Righty asked, not quite in horror, but in strident disbelief.
Tats, not in the least offended, but rather amused, grinned and nodded.
“She’s my sister,” Tats said. He was smiling, apparently understanding Righty’s reluctance. Righty noticed that the firmness had still not gone completely out of his eyes yet and that he could still expect to hear the condition soon.
Righty liked Tats, and thus, he didn’t feel like being too artful in the ensuing negotiations. He cut straight to the chase.
“Okay, why is your sister the best person for the job? What makes you think she can move whatever I give her?”
“If you knew my sister, you’d understand,” Tats said, still grinning.
“But I don’t,” Righty said, with a slight edge in his voice.
“Something tells me you don’t exactly have an array of eligible candidates waiting to hear which will be the lucky one,” Tats said, with a benevolent cockiness in his voice.
“I’ll shoot straight with you, Tats. You’ve got a strong bargaining position on this one. Supposing I were to be convinced right now that your sister could move whatever quantity I sent to her, what is it you would ask in exchange for the favor of the introduction?”
Righty cringed inwardly, expecting at any moment to hear a demand for a full explanation regarding how he had gotten Tats out of the alley, along with a demonstration. To his great surprise and relief, the statement was drastically different.
“Thirty percent.”
“Come again.”
“Thirty percent of the profits for all business transacted through my sister.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you deal with her.”
“That payment would only be made after your sister pays me.”
“Of course.”
“Okay, I think thirty percent profit for all shipments you take to your sister would be fair.”
Righty watched Tats’ face sink. Righty himself wasn’t sure just how long it would take on horseback from Sivingdel to Sodorf City, but he guessed it would be at least two to three days of very hard riding each way.
“But,” Righty began, planning to make his next proposal while Tats was on the ropes, “if I deliver the product directly to her, I’ll expect to keep ninety percent of the profits. Trust me, Tats, you’ll make more money that way. If you go back and forth to Sodorf City, you’re gonna be travelling all the time and making less than you would here in town.”
Righty could see Tats wasn’t particularly happy, so he attempted to assuage his frustration. “Look, Tats—I’m not asking you to introduce me to your sister for free. But if I’m supplying all the product and doing all the transportation, I think a ten percent commission for you is pretty generous. Heck, every time she hands me a million, you’ll get a hundred thousand dollars just for arranging a meet and greet.”
Righty saw Tats’ eyes brighten considerably once the situation had been put in its proper light. Righty thought now would be a really good moment to kill him with kindness.
“Heck, I’ll pay you $50,000 just to make the introduction, and that’s aside from the subsequent commission.”
Tats felt he should gleefully accept this, but deep down he suspected he would never again find himself in a situation where Righty needed him this badly. He almost started to ask for more, but while he was still tossing the idea around in his head, he heard:
“You know what—let’s just make it $100,000 even. A hundred thousand falons to make the introduction, plus the ten percent subsequent commission when I do or arrange the transportation, and thirty percent when you do or arrange the transportation.”
Righty looked squarely at Tats and knew he was sold.
Tats smiled warmly, Righty extended his hand, and Tats shook it firmly.
“Of course, I’ll be expecting you to keep the relationship running smoothly, and if she ever stiffs me, you’ll have to pick up the tab.”
Tats’ smile shrank but did not totally disappear upon hearing this slightly new feature of the contract, but, while it was not exactly a condition he would have suggested, he couldn’t exactly consider it unreasonable if he was collecting a commission on every transaction that went well.
“Fair enough,” Tats said.
Tats then added, “I know you said you don’t have the supply yet, but that might not be the problem you think i
t is. On the contrary, she might need some time to get this going. It would be best for her to start out small. I don’t know what kind of operations she’s engaged in now, although I do have a strong hunch, and it’s not selling Smokeless Green. But I know I can convince her it’s the better way to go.”
This piqued Righty’s interest considerably, but he didn’t want to pry. Prying invites prying, and he had more than enough secrets hidden underneath his proverbial floorboards that he would prefer to stay there.
“Do you have a horse?” Righty asked.
Tats shook his head.
“Well, it seems it’s time to do something with that money you’ve been burying around your house. Go buy yourself a fine stallion,” Righty said, while simultaneously handing him a hundred thousand falons with the same casualness another might pass a cigarette.
Tats’ eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.
“I would like to talk to you again at the same time in exactly one week. I would begin to worry dearly if it were a minute longer than 9 p.m. two weeks from today,” Righty said, in a tone that was affable, but Tats didn’t miss the gleam in his eye that seemed to say, Don’t screw this up.
“Once you’ve found her and made sure she’s amenable to the scenario, I want to meet her in person. You just tell her what I look like and that when I meet her I’ll say, ‘Heavens, isn’t it a blessed day!’ Not one word different, and in just that tone.”
Tats gulped and then repeated it aloud several times.
“And then I want her to say, ‘You could say so.’ Not a word different. I want to make sure she’s the right person. The last thing I want is to end up in jail in a foreign country. I’m going to go ahead and be an optimist and assume you will find her and be back here no later than two weeks from today at 9 p.m. to report that she is anxious and willing to meet me, so I want you to go ahead and take the liberty, once you do find her, to go ahead and set up a meeting. Today is October 2, so I should see you no later than October 16, so let’s go ahead and make the meeting for October 17 at 9 p.m. Tell her she can pick the location.
“If she’s the kind of operator you say she is, she’ll probably have a few large fellows standing around her for protection. Tell her that when approaching them, I will say, ‘I’m a friend of a friend wishing to talk to a friend.’ Tell her I’ll be wearing a black hat and a light blue shirt.”
Righty saw Tats was making an effort to repeat everything multiple times in order to ensure it stuck in his head, so Righty handed him a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled everything down quickly.
“Memorize this until you’ve truly got it and then burn this.”
Tats nodded, not missing the fiery look in Righty’s eye that served to remind him of the real fire just referenced.
“And here’s a pound of Green. Give it to her as a sample.” Tats’ eyes nearly bulged out.
Tats and Righty then shook hands again, cementing everything agreed upon.
When Righty and Tats rejoined the crew, Tats almost told them he had an important errand to run, but then realized no business was going to be open at this hour to sell him a horse.
When Righty pulled out the twenty pounds from his leather satchel, he expected Tats to hand him a mere $100,000 for a fifty percent down payment, as had been the usual custom, so he was happily surprised when Tats handed him $200,000 right then and there.
“I want to call a short meeting,” Righty said, addressing the gang of roughly thirty toughs loitering in the junkyard. He recognized every last one of them by face and name now, and he went around and shook each person’s hand and greeted them before stepping back and facing his audience as a whole.
“We’ve got some exciting developments in the works. First, I’d like to talk a little bit about the game plan with Sivingdel. For now, go slow and steady. As far as I’m concerned, when I took Heavy Sam out, I—and by extension all of you, as my agents—acquired exclusive rights to the Smokeless Green market in this city. One sovereign slayed another, and thus, his subjects must submit to their new ruler. However, just because this city’s ours doesn’t mean the smartest way to assert our rights is to go blitzing far beyond our current territory.
“Think more along the lines of expanding by a block or two per week. What remains to be seen is whether someone will replace Sam and keep his empire unified or whether it will splinter into competing fragments. I strongly expect the latter, but I’ll be expecting intel soon from all of you. You’re my eyes and ears out there. If a strongman takes over his organization, it will behoove us to move slowly. If it splinters, it will behoove us to move slowly while the fragments fight it out, kill and weaken each other, and draw police attention to them and away from us. Either way, it’s best to move cautiously.
“Any word so far?”
Crabs, Chalky, Tats, and the others shrugged their shoulders or shook their heads. Truth be told, they had heard a few things, but none wanted to put his neck on the line by spouting rumors. It would be best to let the dust settle a bit and see what was really going on in the once mighty organization.
“You know you can count on me for anything major. If someone tries blocking your move onto a new block, you let me know. If the police start harassing you, you let me know. If someone stiffs you, you let me know. But I’m not going to be able to go out with you every night. I’ve got some operational issues I’m dealing with right now to make sure I can keep this product coming and to make sure I can bump up the quantity.”
Righty then smiled, “That’s right. You’re going to soon find twenty pounds way too small an amount to move once you start expanding. That means more money for you and more money for me. But I’ve got some things to tend to to make sure that can happen. Any questions?”
Silence.
Righty then shook each person’s hand firmly, wished Tats good luck, and then set off for the countryside on foot. Fifteen minutes later he was cutting through the night air, and a half hour later he was arriving home from another late day at the office.
Janie was still up and seemed to be in a good mood, now that she thought she knew the cause of his perennial tardiness. In fact, given the number of nights he was gone entirely, it now seemed quite special for him to be there at all, let alone by 10 p.m.
She wasn’t quite in the mood for passionate lovemaking, but Righty figured you can’t win them all. He ate a hardy supper and fell asleep in Janie’s arms.