Emmy And Me

Knowing that we would need local knowledge, I had Jakob go out and round up Larry, one of the Strays that lived near the designated address. Larry described the place as an old abandoned sawmill with its back to the water, in an area of industrial and warehouse buildings that were all empty at night. Of course this is the kind of place Rahsett and whatever help he had would want for their showdown, and no doubt they had some sort of ambush planned. Well, I had some ideas on how to turn that one around.

A few minutes before the designated time, I drove past the mill, slowing down to take a look, and being very obvious about it. I’d dropped Eddie off around the corner, but with the addition of Larry, we had the correct amount of silhouettes in the car.

Driving past the front, I could see it was exactly as Larry had described, and for all intents and purposes looked empty and dead. I proceeded to the end of the block, then turned around and parked under the only functioning street lamp in the area near the mill. Thankfully the rain had paused for a bit and the low clouds reflected the city’s lights, so it wasn’t too dark for me to see the open door to the left of the big roll-up garage doors in the middle of the front of the building, lit by a single security bulb too high for Rahsett to have removed. The now empty equipment yard showed no signs of life, either, although I hadn’t expected any.

A minute or two later, my phone buzzed in my pocket, letting me know a text arrived. “2. Both down” it read. I texted back “OK” and slipped the phone back in my pocket. Leaving the parked SUV, I told Larry to stay behind me and steer clear of any fighting that might need to be done. He was only too happy to agree, and was in no hurry to follow me in too close.

I zipped up the tall collar on my jacket and put on my gloves, readying myself. ‘This is it’ I thought, and stepped through the door. As I’d expected, it was as dark as midnight inside. I thumbed the switch on my secret weapon (a hand-held battery-powered spotlight) and swept the light across the room, temporarily blinding the three men standing near the back of the large, empty space. A quick look around revealed a panel of light switches not too far away, to my relief. Knowing that I was helpless in the dark, I ran over to the panel, praying that the lights still worked in this forgotten place.

Only about half of the fluorescents sputtered to life, but it was enough. I could see. Keeping the spotlight on the figures, I approached the three men. As I got closer I saw that Grace was tied to a chair behind the men, and apparently uninjured.

“If she has been harmed, none of you will survive this night,” I declared.

Rahsett stepped forward, squinting into the light I held. “You do not make threats now,” he said, voice full of bravado.

“Not threats,” I corrected. “Promises.” Yeah, it was a tired cliché, but I was sure none of the guys had seen enough movies to realize it.

Angered, Rahsett rushed to attack. Dropping the spotlight, I stepped aside, easily dodging his clumsy charge. Pivoting, I slammed a punch as hard as I could into his kidney as he passed. I stepped back so I could keep him and the other two on the same side. I absolutely did not want to have to deal with attacks from more than one direction, but it seemed that the other two were in no hurry to help Rahsett take me down.

Rahsett approached more cautiously this time, so I took a step back to encourage him to rush me again. Falling into my trap, he leaped. I stepped into it and punched him as hard as I could right in his bare throat, lunging forward as I did so. The force staggered him and he fell to his knees, clutching his crushed windpipe.

“This is for Max,” I said as I hit him with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head with my booted heel. I didn’t even feel any remorse as I heard his gagging attempts to breathe end in a choked gasp. The world was a better place without scumbags like him, anyway.

Turning my attention to the others, I examined them for the first time. Looking at them, the dynamic of their relationship was clear. The larger, younger guy taking a defensive posture was obviously the bodyguard of the older man in the well-tailored suit. Both wore makeup giving them the appearance of well-tanned Caucasians, but I wasn’t fooled. They’d been perfectly comfortable in a pitch-black old industrial building, after all.

“Who are you?” I demanded, addressing my question to the older guy, who was obviously in charge.

The man spoke in the language of the Night Children, and Larry, who was keeping a wary distance, translated. “Impressive, he say,” Larry supplied. “He say you are formidable as described.”

“Tell him to answer my question. Who is he, and why is he here?”

While Larry translated, I watched the larger guy carefully, seeing that he was slowly easing his unzipped jacket to the side to expose a weapon. Emmy had assured me that guns simply weren’t used by her people, and the handle of a knife sheathed by the man’s side confirmed that I wasn’t bringing a knife to a gunfight.

Relieved, I moved to flank the two men, drawing their attention away from the direction of the door by which I’d entered the building. Larry followed me as I circled around the two of them to get a better look at Grace, whose terrified expression assured me that she was at least alive and breathing. The two men didn’t do anything to prevent me from reaching Grace, but the larger guy did make certain he was between me and the older guy at any given moment.

“Are you O.K.?” I asked Grace as soon as I removed the rag that had been used as a gag.

“I’m O.K.” she replied, her voice far too shaky for me to believe it was completely true.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, not really,” she replied as I cut the ropes holding her with my folding knife. I helped her to stand, keeping a wary eye on the two men.

The older man spoke, saying something in the language of the Night Children. “The girl mean nothing. She no concern. He do not care about her,” Larry translated.

“What does he care about?” I asked, leading Grace in a big circle around the two men. When I was between them and the door, I whispered to Grace “Stay back. This could get ugly,” and gave her a gentle shove towards the door.

“Could?” asked Grace, eyeing Rahsett’s motionless body on the floor.

“Yeah, it could,” I hissed. “If things go bad, go get in the car. The keys are inside. Your phone is in there. Lock the doors and get ready to call 9-1-1.”

Grace took a few steps back, ready to bolt.

Larry took that moment to translate the guy’s reply. “He say you kill his son. He say you must pay.”

“Does he?” I asked, immediately realizing that this was the confrontation I’d been expecting for months and months. “So he must be King Marfan?” I asked for confirmation. At my use of his name the old man nodded.

“Marfan,” he agreed.

“Tell him his son was a coward and an evil bastard and deserved to die. Tell him that his son didn’t even put up a good fight. Tell him his son’s body lies in an unmarked grave,” I spat. “Tell him that his son came into my kingdom and tried to take what is mine, and no one gets away with that.”

His voice trembling, Larry spoke in their ancient language. I could tell that my words stung by the effect they had, both on the older man and his thug. As Larry spoke the two grew visibly more and more agitated.

“Tell him that I killed Prince Marfan with his own knife, and I only wish I had the opportunity to do it sooner.” I wanted them upset and off-balance, and it was working. The king said some command to his man, who leapt to attack, drawing his knife as he closed the distance between us.

‘It’s on!’ I thought to myself as I pulled my great grandfather’s dagger from my boot, taking a defensive stance. This is the moment all those hours of training had prepared me for. This moment would define me from now on out. I was either going to die fighting for those who depended on me, or I was going to kill for them.

The bodyguard checked up as he realized that he faced not just some random daylighter girl, but one who had just killed one of his kind with her bare hands. One who was now armed with eight inches of cold, sharp steel. One who showed no signs of backing down or giving in.

Sudden doubt written on his face, the bodyguard approached more cautiously than his initial rush had suggested. As strange as it may seem, I felt a sense of calm as all thought vanished from my mind but the two of us, him and me. I was in the zone.

He lunged low, aiming for my belly. I easily knocked his arm aside and slashed across the side of his ribcage. Although my knife was recently sharpened, his leather jacket saved him from injury.

He stepped back, looking at the large cut through most of the layers of his jacket and muttered what sounded like a swear word. Seizing the moment of his distraction I belted him a solid left in the face for his inattention. Staggering back and wiping at the blood suddenly pouring from his face, he reassessed the situation.

He made a few ineffectual swipes in my direction that were never going to actually reach me, just keep me back. By this time I’d come to realize that this man was nowhere near the fighter that Ruben or Grant Henry were, and I seriously outclassed him. I felt almost guilty that it was going to be so easy, but as his knife swung past me on an inward slash I stepped in, pinned his arm against my side, and stabbed him up from under the ribs. As quick as that it was over, the anonymous man gurgling his last as I let him fall at my feet.

Looking up, I saw that Eddie had used the distraction to sneak up on King Marfan and now held a knife to the King’s throat.

“Don’t kill him,” I told Eddie. “I want him alive.”

Looking around to assess the situation, I saw Grace, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

Larry stood near her, frightened out of his mind by the violence that he’d just witnessed. There was nothing I could do for Grace at the moment, but I needed Larry.

“Larry!” I commanded, getting his attention. “Jakob! We need to bring the other two in here, right now. Go bring them inside, and try not to get any blood on yourself. Bring the bodies here,” I said, indicating the spot the bodyguard lay. He disappeared to follow my orders with amazing speed.

“Grace,” I said, in a much softer tone. “Please go wait in the car. You don’t need to be here for this.”

“Uh, yeah,” she agreed, her voice shaky as she turned to go outside into the falling rain.

I walked out with her, and as she settled in the Suburban’s back seat I grabbed what I needed from the back. “Are you O.K.?” I asked, worried for this teenaged girl.

She eyed the gas can and kitchen matches I held in my hands and replied “Yeah, just fine, thank you,” her voice sardonic.

A few minutes later I returned to the car after doing what was needed. “Here, sit up here in front,” I told Grace. Larry and Jakob climbed into the third row, and Eddie and his prisoner sat in the middle seat.

Driving through the cold, dark rain, I was pleased to see the fire in the grimy windows of the old mill. The cops would know it was foul play, but they wouldn’t be able to identify the bodies. I was certain that Rahsett had chosen the place because of the complete lack of video or other surveillance, so we were good. At least, I hoped so. I drove us on a winding, roundabout route, but eventually we ended up at the airport.

We had four hours before the jet could fuel up to leave, so I told Eddie to keep King Marfan quiet in the car for now. I told Jakob to take Larry home, then sit tight at the AirBnB. “You can tell people that Rahsett is no longer a danger, but don’t explain any more than that. Don’t talk about what happened tonight to anybody,” I told Larry. He agreed, but I had little confidence that he wouldn’t blab.

I made some more calls and got everything settled so when we boarded the Lascaux family jet everything was in order.

“I’m sorry you got involved in this,” I said to Grace. “I never should have brought you up here to Canada.”

“Are you kidding?” Grace asked. “This was like, the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me! It was like a movie!”

Surprised by her reaction, all I could do was stammer “What?”

“Well, it woulda sucked if I’d gotten killed or something, but as it was you came in all freaking like Jason Bourne and rescued me. I mean, you killed those guys like nothing!”

“Grace,” I said, suddenly feeling very sad. “It wasn’t something to be, I don’t know, thrilled by, I guess. Five men lost their lives tonight. It shouldn’t have happened like that.”

“But it did,” Grace insisted, her eyes gleaming. “Those guys would have killed me, they would have killed you, too, if they could. But they never stood a chance, because you’re so, like, completely badass.”

“I want you to do me a big favor,” I pleaded. “Don’t talk about this to anybody. This is serious crime shit, you know? This can’t go beyond those who were there, right?”

“What about Emmy?”

I thought about it a moment, then told her “I’ll talk to Emmy. Don’t tell her anything before I get to talk to her.” Grace nodded her agreement, so I hoped that the issue was settled.

I would have liked to see the sights in Reykjavik when we stopped for fuel but we just couldn’t spare the time, since we needed to unload our unwilling passenger as soon as possible. I’d instructed Eddie to tell him that if he spoke Eddie would cut out his tongue, and mercifully King Marfan believed it and didn’t speak a word on the entire ten hours to Iceland or on the six more hours to Istanbul.

I’d spoken with the pilots and they understood, and understood well enough not to question my instructions. In Istanbul we taxied to the airplane parking lot, where Eddie walked King Marfan to the customs building, then returned to the plane. I’d told King Marfan that I was within my rights to kill him for what he had done, entering my kingdom without asking and threatening me and mine. I told him that I was only letting him live because he had not harmed Grace, and I expected that he would not bother us again or it would be his blood that got spilled next time. He seemed to understand. I hoped it was the last I’d ever see of him.

We took off moments later and three hours after that landed in Nice, in Southern France. I’d picked Nice because it was far from Marfan’s territory, safely in the region controlled by the Lascaux family.

We needed a layover for the plane’s crew as well as for Grace, Eddie and myself. Unfortunately the winter weather was terrible, so sightseeing was out. We were all super exhausted anyway, happy to just crash at the airport hotel.

I finally had a chance to call Emmy, and her surprise when I told her we were in France was comical.

“Nice?” she asked. “How did you end up there?” she asked, her voice clearly registering her surprise.

“We had to drop a passenger off in Istanbul, and I really didn’t want to stay there at all, so we came here to refuel and take a break.”

“A passenger? Istanbul?”

“Yeah. King Marfan,” I responded. “He was in Vancouver. Rahsett had contacted him to make trouble for us. I made it clear he isn’t welcome.”

“Oh,” Emmy gasped. “Are you O.K.? Is everybody all right?”

“Yeah, I’m O.K., and so is Grace. Eddie and Jakob are fine, but Rahsett killed Max. I’ve got to go back to straighten everything out up there. Can you send Michael to Vancouver? I could really use his help.”

“Sure, baby. Do you need me to come up there?”

“No, you stay home. There’s no need to get you involved.”

“Be careful,” Emmy said, blowing me a kiss across the phone line.

“It’s too late for that,” I replied. “Way too late.”

We returned by way of New York City, where we stayed overnight. Grace had never been to the Big Apple (or, in fact, anywhere outside California and Oregon before this trip) so she was thrilled to see the city. I got us tickets to see the Broadway production of Cats and we went to the top of the Empire State Building, too. If anything it left Grace with a desire to spend more time in New York, but we had to get back to Vancouver. I was pleased with how well she was bouncing back from her ordeal, though. She seemed to be taking the events in stride, and thankfully, hadn’t said another word about the violence. Maybe I should have worried that she was somehow internalizing it, but at the time I was just glad enough that she was alive and healthy. I really should have sent Grace back home to the Bay Area, but she insisted she wanted to stay with me, so I didn’t push it.

Back in the cold, wet winter weather of Canada’s Pacific Coast, I had some issues to deal with. Max had been working on a lot of things for us, and I had to figure out who the ‘Paperboy’ was so I could get the forged passports, birth certificates and so on for the local strays now under my dominion.

Going through Max’s notes at his house, we found his contact number for the Paperboy written in the looping characters of the Night Children language.

I called the number using a locally purchased prepaid cell phone, and when a man with a heavy Chinese accent and smoker’s cough answered I said “I’m looking for the paperboy. My agent had some unfinished business that we need to complete.”

“I don’t know you,” came the answer. “How you know me?”

“My man had contacted you about some papers for a dozen or more clients, clients of a particularly dark-skinned variety.”

“Old guy, black as a nightmare?”

“Yes, that was him,” I agreed. “I need you to produce the agreed-upon articles.”

“I don’t know you,” the Paperboy said, pausing a moment to cough up a lung. “I only work with the guys I know.”

“Unfortunately, nobody works with Max any more,” I replied.

“Max dead?” he asked. “What happen?”

“A man named Rahsett killed him,” I answered.

“Ah, O.K. You want papers?”

“Yes. I want you to meet my new agent and work out the details with him. His name is Mike. Where can you meet?” I asked.

“It cost extra to make these changes,” the Paperboy said. “Tell Mike meet me at tea shop I meet Max at. Tell him wear a red hat so I recognize him.”

“You won’t need a red hat. Mike is as black as Max was. What time and where exactly is the tea shop?” I asked, wishing the whole thing were over.

He gave me the intersection of a couple of streets in Chinatown and we agreed on four o’clock that afternoon.

Wearing my best tourist face, I wandered into the tea shop at three thirty. It was nearly empty, and I was the only western person in the place. The menu board only had one thing in English: “Sorry, no boba”

The little old lady behind the counter looked at me as if to ask “Why would you come in here?”

I asked “What hot teas do you have?” trying to look soggy and pathetically cold, which wasn’t all that hard given the weather.

She replied “Jasmine tea,” and poured me a cup. I handed her a couple of bills and sat down, cradling the hot cup in my hands. I looked over the Chinese-language newspaper on the table, occasionally glancing around at the décor. The other patrons were mainly older Chinese men who seemed to have nothing better to do than play Mah Jong as they sipped their teas.

The door opened and Michael walked in as I was getting a refill from the grandma that ran the place. He looked around curiously, only glancing at me for a moment, before his eyes slid to the various men in the place.

Walking up to the counter as I returned to my table, he asked the lady for a cup of green tea, which she obliged. Taking his tea, he turned to look at the tables. I watched him, fascinated by his ease and nonchalance. He was a far different man from the one I’d met in that Berkeley back alley all those months ago. He nodded to a guy in the back and walked over to his table, sitting down with his back to the room. I stared for a moment longer, then finished my cup and thanked the little old lady and left after asking her about good things to see in the area. Michael had it under control, and I trusted him to do what was needed.

Walking through the afternoon rain, I thought back to the man that Emmy and I had met in that alley my freshman year. Two years ago he was living in an abandoned building with no electricity or running water, and now he has a nice townhouse with all the modern amenities. He used to skulk around dark alleys looking for food in dumpsters, and now he has a good salary and a healthy diet. He’d told me in no uncertain terms that coming under our shadow was the best thing that had ever happened to him and his little daughter, and it showed. He was loyal, and I had no doubt he would do anything at all for Emmy and me. Of course, we had done a lot for him, too- everything he had was because we gave it to him. Not all of the strays had worked out so well, but for some, joining us had transformed their lives for the better.

Now he was our go-to guy, our troubleshooter (so to speak). It seemed as if all the other Night Children respected him and his position as our second-in-command, and he’d grown into the role as well.

Walking along, thinking about how things had gone for so many of us since Emmy and I had reconnected, I barely noticed the rain and the growing dark.

The third major item on my list was to finalize a deal for the nightclub I wanted to buy, so I headed northwest to the club district, a walk that would take me at least forty-five minutes.

Lost in my thoughts, it didn’t take long until I was at the entrance to the club. I knocked on the closed door, and it was promptly opened by a burly tattooed guy.

“We’re closed. Come back later,” he said and went to close the door again.

“I’m here to talk to Jimmy,” I said, grabbing the door. “He’ll want to talk to me.”

“What’s it about?” burly guy asked, clearly unwilling to let me in without good reason.

“Maybe me becoming your boss. I want to buy the club,” I explained. “Tell him Leah is here.”

Not sure what to make of my comment about becoming his boss, he opened the door to let me in. “Stay here,” he commanded and hurried down the stairs into the club proper. He returned a minute later with Jimmy, the club’s owner, in tow.

“Leah,” Jimmy exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, motioning for burly guy to leave us alone as we walked down to the club’s back area and Jimmy’s cluttered office.

“I must say, you’re younger than I expected,” Jimmy said. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks,” I replied. “Look, I don’t want to be rude, but let’s cut to the chase. I’ve looked at your financials, and although the club is doing O.K. and the restaurant’s business is growing, you have to realize you’re slipping behind.”

Looking pained, Jimmy said “Well, it takes time to establish a brand, you know. I figure we’ll start breaking even by next year, this summer tourist season, if things go well.”

“How about if I buy out your debts, give you a cash payout, but keep you on as manager? I have no desire to run a nightclub, much less one a thousand miles from home.”

“So why are you interested in my club, then?” Jimmy asked, perplexed.

“I think we could make some changes and make it very profitable. The space is excellent- in fact, I might buy the building, too, if this deal goes through. I have what you might call an ulterior motive, and an ace up my sleeve,” I explained.

Curious, Jimmy asked “Ace?”

“I can connect a celebrity name to the club. Someone who would be happy to do the DJ thing to bring in the crowds and give the club some press.”

“Who, if I may ask?”

“Emmy De Lascaux,” I answered. “She’s mentioned wanting a club of her own, and I’d love to give this place to her.”

“She lives in San Francisco, doesn’t she? What makes you think she’d be interested in a club way up here? And what do you mean, ‘give the club’ to her?” Jimmy asked, his confusion clear.

“Well, first off, she’s my wife,” I told him. “She loves night clubs, and I’m sure she would love this one, with a few changes. She’s told me that she’s been asked to guest DJ at a number of places, and she loves the idea. If I could give her a club she could DJ at once in a while she’d be in heaven.”

“Emmy’s your wife? Wow. I didn’t see that one coming. She’s huge right now here in Vancouver. If she could DJ a couple of times a month it would be, well, huge.”

“Yeah, that’s my thought, too. With a remodel and a publicity blitz to let everyone know they might see her here, I think we could bring in the crowds.”

Looking thoughtful, Jimmy asked “What does Emmy think of the idea?”

“She doesn’t know yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

“You’re going to spend that kind of money on a surprise for your wife?” he asked, astonished.

“Well, as I said, I have an ulterior motive, as well.”

“What’s that?”

“I have a bunch of local people who need jobs. I need to buy some kind of service industry business here in Vancouver so I can put a dozen or more unskilled people to work, and this club and restaurant seem like great places for that.”

“But what about the folks I already have working?” Jimmy asked. “I’d hate to sack some good people.”

Respecting that he was concerned for his employees, I assured him “I’d want them to stay on. Well, the good ones, at least. No, as I said, these people have few skills, so they’ll need to be shown the ropes by experienced staff. I’d use the club and the restaurant as training for the folks I’m talking about.”

“But we’re fully staffed as it is. We don’t need any more,” Jimmy objected.

“Here’s the deal. It isn’t as important to me if the place turns a profit, as long as it achieves my goal of employment for these people.”

“I see… Sort of like money laundering, except in this case you’re laundering workers.”

“I’d like to think of it as a non-profit work training center,” I said, “But yeah, something like that.”

“You said you’d want me to continue on as manager,” Jimmy mused. “How much would you pay?” With that, I knew the deal was sealed. It was simply a matter of numbers. After we agreed on the details, we talked for a bit about the remodel I wanted. Burly guy came and interrupted, telling Jimmy there was someone here to see me.

“That’ll be Michael,” I said. “Let him in.”

Burly guy looked at Jimmy for confirmation, and Jimmy responded with “You’d better learn to do as she says, Shannon. She’s going to be the one signing your paychecks.”

“Seriously?” asked Shannon, looking at me again.

“As a heart attack,” responded Jimmy. “Hopefully the deal will be done this week, and Leah here will be the new owner.”

“Well, damn,” muttered Shannon as he left to let Michael in.

“Jimmy,” I said. “I told you I wanted to hire a bunch of others, and I thought that they could fit in with the club’s new theme? Here’s why,” I announced as Michael entered the office. Jimmy looked at him in surprise, taking in Michael’s midnight black skin, dark eyes and black hair. “The people I want to bring to work here look like this. Jimmy, this is Michael, my right-hand man. Michael, this is Jimmy, the man I’m buying this place from.”

After the two shook hands, I asked Michael “How did it go?”

“Good,” he answered. “He will do what we asked. It will cost a little more than originally negotiated, but within the range you told me to accept.”

“Great,” I responded. “Hey, could you please go get Grace and bring her back here? I want her to see this place before they open tonight.”

“Of course,” Michael responded. He nodded goodbye to Jimmy and left to go back to the hotel.

“You’re kidding me,” Jimmy said when he was sure Michael had left. “I’ve never- hey, is he related to Emmy somehow?”

“No, not related, except they’re both from the same ethnic minority. And here’s the deal- they all look like that. I want to find them a place to work, and it seemed to me that a nightclub would be perfect. The Downfall has that ‘day and night’ thing going already, and a staff of people who look like Emmy and look like they are creatures of the night would work well with the theme of ‘Club De Nuit’.”

“Ah, I get it,” agreed Jimmy. “Everybody knows Emmy is from France, so the name in French ties in with that. If we called it ‘Emmy’s Club De Nuit’ we’d coattail on her fame, and Downfall fans would flock to the place,” Jimmy said, his eyes gleaming with the possibilities.

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Shall we toast to our new arrangement?” asked Jimmy, rising from his desk. We wandered into the main club area and talked about changes necessary to create the ‘Club De Nuit’ while we sipped our drinks. Most of the remodel was going to be a simple paint job, replacing the red theme with black and installing some new low-key lighting. Grace arrived after a little while, Eddie following her in, looking very bodyguard-like. It was clear to me he felt that he was somehow to blame for her getting taken by Rahsett and King Marfan and hadn’t forgiven himself.

Michael followed a minute later, having had to find parking. I introduced Grace and Eddie to Jimmy, who couldn’t take his eyes off Eddie and Michael.

“This could work,” he breathed. “This could totally work.”

Grace had never been in a bar of any kind before, so she looked around wide-eyed. “I’m buying this club for Em,” I told her.

“She’ll love it!” Grace exclaimed. “If she doesn’t, I’ll take it!”

“Not so fast, kiddo,” I laughed. “You’re not even old enough to drink!”

“Neither are you or Emmy, back in the States!” Grace retorted.

“True,” I had to admit.

That evening I called a get-together of the local strays at a nearby Mediterranean restaurant. I was pleased (and a bit surprised, I must admit) that all thirteen showed up. After ordering for everybody, I stood up to make some announcements. We had the back room of the restaurant all to ourselves, but I still wasn’t about to broadcast our business to the world, so I kept it simple. “Max is, sadly, no longer with us,” I said. “In a related matter, Rahsett will no longer cause anybody any trouble.” Looking around, I saw surprise on only a few of the inky black faces. I’d figured Larry would blab, and I guess he did, it seemed.

“I need a new local liaison,” I said to the crowd, getting a few puzzled looks. Michael noticed it too, and translated for those who didn’t speak English well enough. “I need you all to choose someone from among you, someone you can trust. Someone who will answer to me. Someone who will take care of things here for me. This position comes with rewards, but also, responsibilities. Anyone who is interested, talk to Michael after dinner. He will explain what would be expected.”

I looked around at all the expectant faces and continued.

“I will also have jobs for all of you soon. I am buying a nightclub and restaurant and there will be jobs available. I expect you all to work the hours that the club manager, a man named Jimmy, will give you, and follow all his instructions. This is very important. You must work as diligently as you possibly can. I will hear about it, whether you work well or poorly. Those whose work is not acceptable will feel my anger, but those who work well will be rewarded.” I looked around as Michael translated, making and holding eye contact with every single Vancouver stray. I wanted them to want my satisfaction and fear my displeasure, and I wanted it clear I was going to be keeping tabs on them.

After a few quick questions and answers, we all settled down to eat. The chicken shawerma was mediocre at best, but eating in a restaurant was such a novel experience for most of the strays that I enjoyed myself just watching them try to deal with the occasion.

Two days later we returned to the Bay Area, less Jakob, who would be staying for a while. The paperboy was doing his thing, Rahsett was taken care of, the club was mine, the local strays had elected one of their own to be the local liaison (I made it very, very clear that she was not the boss. I was the boss. Jadi was merely the local “union rep” of sorts). I’d gotten everything I’d hoped to accomplish in Vancouver done, albeit with a fair bit of unexpected mayhem. That seemed to be my M.O., I had to admit.