Fiddle Game, page 9
He couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
After taking a long breath, he closed his eyes purposefully and dropped his Ivy hat over his face.
Hopefully, sleep would come quickly.
Chapter 8
The One With The Beginning
“How long were you in town for before you actually started to run the con?” Olli wondered, an impatient tone creeping into her voice.
Razor looked at her and shook his head slightly while clicking his tongue. “Patience, Doll. Gracious, how ever do you survive a stakeout?”
“I don’t do them very often.” Olli shrugged, smirking slightly.
“How does Dallas survive a stakeout?” Razor looked at her closely for a moment, the barest of smirks crossing his face.
Olli stared at him for a moment, insult washing across her face. She sat up a little straighter and shrugged, her emotions suddenly smooth again. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”
“I’ll make sure to do that next time that I see him.” Razor smirked.
Olli’s left eyebrow dipped slightly, and she shook her head. “Like I said, we don’t do it very often.” She clicked her tongue.
Razor chuckled and bobbed his head. “All right. Do you mind if I get back to my story?”
“More like an Odyssey,” Olli muttered. “And not insulting my ability to sit still for a long time?”
Razor slowly sipped his drink and looked at her blandly. “Don’t be like that, Doll.”
Olli snorted and rolled her eyes. “I really don’t like stakeouts. I have terrible luck with them.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t do many stakeouts,” Razor smirked and chuckled.
Olli grunted. “One time I sneezed so loud we got caught.”
Razor stared at her for a moment, the wheels in his head clearly turning. “I’m sorry...you sneezed so hard you were caught?”
Olli pursed her lips and shrugged a little. “It happened. He forgave me. For the most part.” She smirked. “Sometimes he still reminds me of it from time to time.”
“You are...by far the most amusing and interesting detective that I have ever interacted with.” Razor smirked at her. “And I’ve run across a few.”
“You’re the most honest and indulgent mob boss that I’ve ever crossed paths with.” Olli smirked and shrugged slightly.
Razor chuckled and sipped from his glass again. “Shall I continue the Odyssey now?”
Olli tossed a hand and nodded. “Aces. Would you please?”
“Sneezed during a stakeout.” Razor clicked his tongue a few times. “What a story to tell. You must be an absolute hoot at a party.”
Olli’s shoulders dropped a little, and she rolled her eyes. “I don’t really go to many parties. I don’t have much use for them. Sitting around in plus chairs talking about the weather.” She scoffed.
Razor laughed softly and shifted in his chair. “To answer your original question, we were there almost a week.”
Anthony swung his legs a couple more times, sitting on the edge of the bed that he had been fortunate enough to have for three of the nights that they had been there.
There was one night that he had been shoved to the rug on the floor when a traveler had required the bed, but his father had appeared with a spare, thin blanket so it wasn’t so bad.
He didn’t sleep very well. The man who had claimed the bed had a terrible snore. Anthony spent most of the night with his eyes open. Still, this was the best trip that he had ever been on.
That was two nights before. After two nights of sleeping in the bed, he was feeling ready to take on whatever his father had planned for them. Anthony looked over his shoulder and smiled a little when the town clock bonged the half hour.
His father had left an hour and a half before, instructing him when to leave and making Anthony repeat it three times.
It was finally time for him to leave.
Anthony hopped off the bed and grabbed the Ivy hat as he started toward the door. After pushing the hat on his head, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He closed the door gently and walked quickly toward the stairs that would lead him to the main floor. Anthony practically skipped down the stairs. Once he was to the floor of the lobby, however, he slowed himself down and walked through the room at a controlled pace.
Just because he was left unattended did not mean he wanted to be scolded for running around like a wild, unmannered child. He wasn’t sure if his father would find out, but he didn’t want to risk it.
Anthony wished a bright good afternoon to the lady behind the counter, the same one as every other time he walked through the lobby. He had found out she owned the house and had decided to turn it into a hotel a few years before. She was nice, and she looked tired. So every time he walked past, he made sure to smile at her and wish her a good morning, afternoon, or evening. One time, he brought her a small handful of flowers that had fallen off of a flower wagon.
Even though they were a little wilted from the lack of water and the warm stones, she had laughed and grinned. She even kissed both his cheeks and hugged him so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe for a moment.
She looked at him over the high counter and waved brightly at him. She wished him a good day and blew him a kiss.
Once he was out of the hotel and on the street, Anthony started toward the alley that would lead him a few roads over and in the general direction of the cafe. He pushed his hands into his pockets as he walked, wandering slowly but with a purpose. He didn’t want to be late, but he would be noticed if he was rushing.
And his father would never forgive him for that.
Besides, it was a beautiful day. There were bright white fluffy clouds in the sky, and the sun was shining brightly.
The washerwomen were hanging laundry on the lines that spanned between their houses, calling the local gossip back and forth to each other.
Anthony walked to the slightly less popular main road that ran the direction he was going three blocks over from the street that ran through town. Now that he had been here a week, he felt right at home, skipping roads and winding his way through side streets to get to his destination. He turned to the right and started walking again, ducking under some freshly laundered sheets that would have brushed his face and hat. He skirted around a half-loaded wagon of cured cheeses and waved in a friendly way at the men that were loading it.
They smiled back at him, and a couple of them jerked their chins in a single motion. Greeting him without making a noise. It wasn’t the first time that they had seen him on this walk, and now it was completely integrated into the fabric of their day.
Anthony walked a couple of blocks and paused at a corner to let a few wagons and some foot traffic cross. Vendors and townspeople on their way for the afternoon market; smells of salted pork, and fresh flowers wafted on the soft breeze. He waited for a bit after the road cleared before he started to cross the road. Just was he was about to cross the road, he noticed a grey-haired woman with her head wrapped in a bandanna.
After a moment of indecision, Anthony stepped over to her, swept the basket she was carrying from her hand, and offered his arm to her. He walked her across the road at her pace, smiling at her and talking to her in a loud enough voice she could hear him.
Once they were across the road, Anthony walked her to her little apartment and set her basket on the table for her. It took him a couple minutes more than he had planned for to extract himself from her hugs and kisses. He nearly was forced to stay for lunch. The only thing that saved him was explaining that he had to meet his father for lunch.
Once he was out, and the door was firmly closed behind him, Anthony really had to hurry. He didn’t want to be late to the loose appointment that his father expected him to keep.
The closer he got to the cafe, the more his heart started to flutter. Up to just a few minutes before he had been so flustered with trying to escape the apartment. But now that he was just a half block away from the cafe, this was finally real. It was finally time to prove to his father he could come on more trips like this.
Anthony stopped near the bushes to the side of the building and looked around for a moment to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He fished in the bushes for a moment before pulling out the well-loved violin. It was right where his father has said that it would be. Once he had his hand on the neck of the instrument, he looked around to check and make sure that no one was paying attention to him again.
The whole world was moving along without him, paying him no mind at all.
Anthony smiled, hooked the instrument under his left arm and walked up to the cafe like he had nearly every day the last week or so. He settled into the chair that faced the street and part of the dining room at a table that was empty at the moment, and mostly into the cafe’s interior. It was almost five tables closer to the kitchen from the one that he had been eating at since they arrived. He set the violin on the table and left it where it could be seen. He shifted slightly to the right and looked around the interior of the cafe. A quick scan told him that the owner was gone again today. It surprised him that he was gone again. For how much he had spent here the last week, he had only seen the owner twice. Perhaps he had more businesses that he needed to tend to more than this cafe. His absence actually worked out in Anthony’s favor.
That left the power-hungry manager in charge.
Perfect.
“Who decided that it was the manager that you would con?” Olli tilted her head. “Wouldn’t the owner have more money? Since he’s the one with the revenue coming in from the cafe?”
Razor made a thoughtful noise and tilted his head. “I’m really not sure, Doll. I honestly didn’t ask many questions on this particular con. And the amount of money someone has doesn’t make the con.”
Olli hummed and made a noise of understanding. She looked thoughtful for a moment before blinking and coming back to the present. “Why the manager?” she repeated.
“He was the one that was so desperate to be as important in front of everyone as he thought he was.”
“Easier to manipulate,” Olli offered. “So, there was no real reason for choosing him as the mark?”
Razor smirked, and half dipped his head. “That is exactly correct. Like I said, my father was a petty man.” He shook his head a little and shrugged slightly. “I suppose it could have been that. Perhaps he was someone that had appeared to insult my father on one of his trips. I really do not know.”
Olli looked at him for a moment. “Insulted him?”
“I remember a lot of people insulting my father. And it always seemed….over small things that shouldn’t have bothered him.”
One of Olli’s eyebrows went up.
“And he was known to be an incredibly vindictive man.”
“Sounds like a terrible way to grow up.” Olli clicked her tongue.
Razor shrugged slightly. “It certainly prepared me for the part of my life that I spent with hot tempered gangsters.”
Olli pursed her lips a little and laughed softly. “You can say Ace. I doubt he’ll be able to hear you where he is right now.”
Razor smirked slightly. “I suppose that’s very true.” he adjusted in his chair and sighed a little. “But we were talking about the manager of the cafe.”
“Right. The self-important man that wanted everyone else to think he was important too.” Olli smiled. “And that sounds like a man easy to insult when a kid came to eat by himself and didn’t have the money to pay for the meal.”
Razor tapped his nose. “Quite the detective.”
Olli smirked. “So. The most important question,”
Razor looked at her and raised a single eyebrow, a slight smirk touching his lips. “What would that be?”
“What did you order?”
“Well, hello there!” A warm voice greeted.
Anthony looked up at the waiter that had breezed up to his table. “Hello,” he returned, smiling brightly and tilting his head slightly to the left.
“You’re eating alone today?” The waiter wondered, looking at him curiously.
Anthony nodded and smiled. “Just me today.”
The waiter glanced at the violin, a single eyebrow quirking before he smiled back at Anthony. “All right. What’ll you have then?”
Anthony licked his lips and thought for a moment. “A basket of bread? And the risotto special? And some of the lasagna?” He ordered so much food for two reasons. He was still hungry, and his father told him he could order whatever he wanted. He had come planning to get two orders of lasagna, but while he had sat there, waiting for the waiter to walk up, he had seen a couple of plates of the risotto dishes go by and now he wanted that too.
The waiter started to write on his small pad of paper, his eyebrows knitting together slowly as he wrote. “Busy morning to work up that level of an appetite?” He looked at Anthony skeptically, pencil paused just above his paper.
Anthony shrugged. “I’m hungry.” He grinned brightly. “And I’m a growing boy!”
The waiter chuckled and nodded. “I’m sure you are. I’ll let the chefs know, and I’ll bring it out to you as soon as it’s ready. You want some water?”
Anthony nodded eagerly. “Yes, please?”
“You got it.” The waiter nodded and walked back toward the kitchen quickly.
Anthony leaned back into his chair and kicked his feet a little. He looked around and smiled at a couple of people that looked at him curiously. When his stomach growled deeply, Anthony hugged his ribs and looked at the violin. Hopefully, no one had heard his stomach growl. Even though he had eaten the day before, it felt like he hadn’t eaten. It almost felt like his stomach had started to stick to his spine.
He was very grateful that his father had told him to rack up the bill. All the food around him smelled amazing. It made his mouth water.
The waiter swung back through, dropping off a tall water glass and a full basket of bread.
Anthony’s eyes lit up, and he eagerly reached for the first piece of bread. He ate it happily, though with the manners that the mental voice of his father reminded him of. He watched the comings and goings of the cafe while he waited for the rest of his dinner to come to him.
Nearly an hour later, Anthony thought that he was going to explode. He had never felt so full in his entire life.
Most of the food was completely gone. The bread was completely gone. So was the lasagna. The risotto was well over half gone. If Anthony could have figured out how to eat the last half of the risotto, he would have. But he just couldn’t force himself to take one more bite.
Anthony took a long breath. For a split second, he thought that he might be sick from his over-eating.
Once he was sure that he wouldn’t, he took a small sip of water.
A waiter walked past with an armload of bowls with fresh pasta. Anthony glanced at it and worried he was going to be sick again. The very thought of food made his stomach churn. It was an odd feeling. He never thought it possible to over-eat. And yet, somehow, he had.
Anthony’s eyes flared a little, and he locked up his jaw to keep himself from getting sick. Sitting downwind from the kitchen was probably a bad choice on his part.
Live and learn.
The waiter breezed up with a bill in his hand and smiled at him. “I see you ate nearly all of it! Good for you!”
Anthony hugged his ribs and groaned quietly. “I did.”
“Well. Color me surprised.”
Anthony smiled and nodded.
“Can I interest you in some dessert?” the waiter wondered, clearly expecting Anthony to turn him down.
Anthony thought for a moment, tempted for the barest of seconds, before he shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“I’m afraid that now this part isn’t exactly as much fun as pasta.” The waiter handed over the bill.
Anthony nodded and started to dig around in his pockets. A panicked look crossed his face. He started to pat himself down even further. He hopped off the chair and started to dig in his pockets.
The waiter stood where he was, holding the bill out toward him. A range of expressions crossed his face. Concern, confusion, irritation, and then full-blown distrust. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Did you lose something?” he wondered, his voice dry and angry.
Anthony looked over, completely horrified. “I don’t know where my money is.”
“You don’t say…” All attempts to be courteous had evaporated.
Anthony looked at him and shook his head a little. “I really don’t. I had it with me when I left my room!”
“You lost your money somewhere between your room and here…” The disbelieving tone was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.
Anthony nodded. “Can I go look for it?”
“Can you go look for it?!” The waiter’s voice pitched into a register that was two or three higher than his normal voice.
A few heads turned to look their way curiously.
A contrite look crossed Anthony’s face. “Yes. Please?” He pulled his hat off his head and crushed it between his hands, doing his best to look like he might cry. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find it. I’ll come right back.”
“You’ll come right back.” The waiter stared at him for a moment, skepticism dripping off the words and in his very posture.
Anthony nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
“Do you take me for a fool, Boy?” The waiter looked at him, his eyes narrowed. “You stay right there. You run, and I’ll chase you down the street like the urchin you are.”
Anthony sucked back into his chair a little and nodded. A quick glance proved that everyone who had been looking was no longer.
The waiter looked at him for a moment longer, like he was gauging the likelihood of Anthony running off. Once he seemed satisfied that Anthony was thoroughly cowed, he pivoted and briskly walked toward the back of the cafe.
Anthony watched him go and smiled a little to himself when he was sure that no one would notice.
