Bender at the Bon Parisien (A Novel) (12 page)

BOOK: Bender at the Bon Parisien (A Novel)
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“Well,
you guys don’t know if he’s even dead, right?” I countered. “He is just gone. Madame
von Hugelstein thinks he’s off with another woman!”

“I’d
rather he were dead if that were the case,” Trudel huffed.

“You
don’t mean that,” Fleuse finally spoke again.

“What’s
your play, man?” Pistache answered Fleuse. “Are you so taken by this woman that
you will defend her no matter what she says? Even if it means your heart is on
the line?!”

“Or
a million euros?” Renard interjected.

“The
American is right, though,” Fleuse began. “We don’t even know for sure if it’s
Victor who wrote that!”

“Or
whether or not he’s dead,” I reminded everyone again.

“C’mon,”
Pistache said with a flick of his wrist. “I need another drink.” He approached
the bar.

“She
said it’s his handwriting,” Janie pointed out.

As
I poured him another, Pistache slumped on a barstool, creating a rush of air
that sent the envelope to the floor in a featherlike fall. I bent to retrieve
it. Trudel spoke as I crouched.

“Well,
I don’t know what to tell you all. I certainly didn’t do anything to Victor.”

“Except
play him for a fool and maybe kill him,” Pistache grunted.

“Please,”
she answered.

I
barely registered any of their conversation. With envelope in hand, I was about
to stand up again when I noticed something peering at me from the darkness
beneath the sinks. It was the door to a safe.

“Hey
check this out.” I put a hand on it to pull it out, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What
is it?” I heard Janie say.

I
shifted my weight. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. The safe was small and very
heavy for its size, though not immovable. It’s grey rough exterior felt like thick
stone. It could fit easily in my arms, but first I would need to brace my legs
on something to drag it out from under the bar and into the light.

Janie
repeated herself. “C’mon, Pete. What is it?”

“It’s
a safe,” I said with a grunt. It took all the power that my legs could muster,
and my back torqued as I hugged it close to my chest and dragged it out of the
darkness. With one quick and painful motion, I hoisted it to the bar top. It
landed with a thud. For a moment the wood made a “crack” sound beneath the
weight of the safe, but nothing was damaged.

“What’s
inside?” Fleuse asked.

“I
have no idea,” I said. “Feels like bricks.”

“Maybe
it’s the bar money,” Janie said.

“I
think it’s too small for that,” I said. “You’d need more cash on hand to
properly run this joint. The hotel probably has a much larger office safe for
that kind of stuff. This looks like it’s for jewelry or something.”

“Or
maybe a coin,” Pistache said with a glint in his eye.

Instinctively,
I lowered my ear to the safe door and turned the dial of the combination lock.

“What
are you doing?” Janie asked, laughing.

“I
have no idea. Aren’t you supposed to hear a little click or something when you
pass the correct number?”

Pistache
laughed too.

“You
watch too many movies,” Janie said, smiling.

She
was right. I had no clue what I was doing. I don’t even know what made me think
that was going to work.

“Well,
does anyone have the combination?” Fleuse asked.

“I
didn’t even know that was there,” Trudel answered.

We
all stared at it for a second.

“Here,
I’ll tip it back a little and you guys look under it,” I offered.

“Why?”
asked Janie.

“When
I was a kid, I had a safe. There was a sticker on the bottom with the combination
on it.”

“No
way it’ll be there,” Fleuse muttered quietly.

“Buy
me a drink if it is?” Pistache answered him under his breath.

I
tipped it back, and Janie shook her head. Nothing.

“Knew
it,” Fleuse said.

“Sorry,
honey,” Janie said. “Long shot. This safe isn’t a toy.”

“My
safe wasn’t either,” I joked. “It legitimately protected my baseball cards.”

She
rolled her eyes at me.

“How
are we going to get it open?” Fleuse asked.

“I
bet we can find a way,” Pistache uttered with his trademark energy.

“Hang
on a second,” I said. “We can’t do anything that will harm this safe. I know I
don’t officially work here, but it belongs to the hotel. We can’t open it
without their permission.”

“Listen
to you,” Pistache smirked. “Afraid it’ll be charged to the room?”

“Actually
yes,” I said with a look toward Janie. “That hadn’t occurred to me, but now
that you mention it, yes.”

“Take
it easy,” Pistache said as he threw his arms around the object. “There’s a lot
more at stake here.” With one heave, he pulled the safe from the bar. He must
have misjudged its weight, because it instantly sent him to the floor beneath
the momentum of his action. Pinned to the ground, he groaned. I was not the
only one trying to conceal a smile.

“Could
someone give me a hand?” he asked from beneath the weight.

Fleuse
went to his aid, and they both managed it back to the bar.

“Let’s
leave it up here,” Pistache said, with hurting body and bruised pride.

“Good
idea,” I snickered.

“So
really. How do we open it?” Janie asked.

Chapter XI.

 

 

 

Victor scurried down
the sidewalk in the pale Parisian summer evening’s light, swerving through
pedestrian traffic. The ends of his shoelaces gently tapped the pavement as he
ran. Passing several artists painting the great Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor was
in too much of a rush to notice their bright depictions of the sunset in front
of its twin bell towers.

He’d
asked Trudel to meet him somewhere other than the bar, and he was running late.
Surely, this turned her off and would add to their recent troubles. Lately, Trudel
had grown jealous of anyone who commanded Victor’s attention, which was
exacerbated by his recent distractions with Fleuse and Jacques.

He
knew that Trudel would also be disappointed that he had asked her to meet him
at an inside table. Victor didn’t think she’d like being kept from the cool natural
light that hung in the sky late into the summer evening. But given the
sensitive nature of their conversation, the soft yellow of the interior would
have to do.

Trudel
sat scowling at him when Victor burst through the door of Le Rive Gauche, a
long thin café with dirty tiled flooring. There was no chair sitting at the
small table across from her.

“Someone
asked if I was using it, and I said no. I just assumed you weren’t going to be
here.”

“Okay.
Sorry,” he answered, out of breath. He glanced around for another chair.

Trudel
silently bristled as she sipped on her brandy. Victor snagged a chair from an
empty table next to him and craned his neck to see the barista.

“A
whiskey, please,” he called out.

“Really?
What’s happening to you?” Trudel asked.

“What?”

“I
don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink whiskey.”

“I
drink it all the time.”

“No
you don’t. I’ve only seen you drink a beer once and a while in the bar.”

The
waitress delivered his glass just as Victor reached inside his coat pocket and
produced a pouch of tobacco and rolling papers. He quickly downed the spirit.

“Another,
please,” he said to the woman as he began assembling a cigarette.

“What
is this?!” Trudel continued.

“I
know, I know. You’ve never seen me smoke.”

“Do
I know you at all?”

Victor
fussed over his process as he spoke. “I did this much more regularly as a young
man.”

“You
aren’t smoking that, you know.”

“Why
not?” he asked without even looking up, refusing to be interrupted.

“Because
you can’t smoke that in my face.”

“I
won’t.”

“Yes
you will. You’re going to smoke that right here and I’m not going to be able to
keep it away from me.”

“Relax.”

“I
am a singer!” she protested loudly. “Do you have any idea what that could do to
my throat?!”

Victor
stopped. He had just finished. He made a face and placed the pouch back in his
jacket pocket and left his newly rolled cigarette on the table.

“Fine,”
he said frankly as he set the cigarette next to his empty whiskey glass.

They
sat in silence for a brief moment until the waitress brought Victor’s second
whiskey.

“So,”
he continued. “How was the show today?”

“Why
did you ask me here?” Trudel answered.

Victor
picked up the new drink and said, “Can’t we just get out of the bar every once
and a while? Plus, I have something to show you.”

“Are
you breaking up with me?” she asked with a sharp tone.

“What?
No!”

“Did
you bring me here to break up with me? If so, I see what you’re doing and it’s
not going to work.”

“What
are you talking about? I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You
want to get me on neutral territory,” Trudel accused.

“Trudie.
Stop it.”

She
eyed him suspiciously. “Who is she?”

“Will
you please stop it with this. You sound crazy.”

“Really?
Then it’s time to explain yourself.” It was her turn to need another drink. She
motioned for the waitress before snapping at Victor, “So get on with it. Here I
am sitting across from my boyfriend, and he won’t even tell me what’s going
on.”

“Okay,
okay. I just got here, let me take a second.”

“Sure
you go ahead with that. Imagine how silly I felt sitting here alone, the weird
lady. Plus, I just heard myself say the words ‘my boyfriend.’ How old am I,
anyway? It’s embarrassing.”

“What
would you prefer to call me?”

She
didn’t answer. She just took a sip of her newly delivered drink.

Victor
followed suit. After quickly draining his second glass he shifted in his chair
momentarily.

“Like
I said before your tirade just now, I have something to show you.” He pulled a
small box out of his jacket pocket.

“It
wasn’t a tirade,” she began until she saw the object. Trudel gasped. “What’s
that?!”

“Oh,
just a little something that I’ve run across.”

Trudel
seized the tiny package. “Oh, Victor!”

He
was a little uneasy with how quickly she nabbed it from him. Still, he reminded
himself that it was highly unlikely that Trudel would just up and run off with
it.

“It’s
not wrapped,” she muttered as she removed the top. “Huh. A coin?”

“Well,
it’s not just any …”

“What
the hell am I going to do with a coin?”

“What?
What do you mean
you
?”

Trudel
was silent. She looked at him and blinked.

“It’s
not for you!” Victor continued.

“Oh,”
she processed. “Why would you give it to me?”

“I
didn’t. You just grabbed it. I’m showing you.” Victor said, snatching it back.

“Oh
well, why would I care about that?” She grunted and took a drink.

“Well,
it’s an exciting coin. It’s extremely valuable.”

“Do
I look like I care about coins?” she snapped.

“I
bet that you’ve never seen a coin like this one, though,” Victor said,
forgetting about Trudel’s misunderstanding.

Barely
believing what she heard, Trudel paused a moment before saying, “You know what?
I have to go.” She swallowed the last of her brandy with one gulp and stood to
leave.

“Wait
a sec, Trudie! What’s the matter with you?” he protested as she was turning to
leave.

Trudel
immediately pivoted toward him. “You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

“Take
it easy. Sit down. Let me buy you one.”

She
just stood and stared at him.

He
continued, “I’m sorry that I didn’t pay you more attention just now. When I
walked in, my head was spinning. Let me make it up to you now.”

Trudel
bit her lip, blinked three times rapidly, and sat down again. “I’ll have just
one more,” she finally conceded.

“Good.
Thank you.”

“So
what is the story about your coin?”

“Well,
really it is the key to my retirement.”

“Is
that so?”

“Yes,
madame
,” Victor stated proudly.

“I
don’t follow,” she deadpanned.

“Well
once I get this thing moved off I won’t have to work in the bar, for starters.”

She
put her glass down and looked at him. “How can something that small possibly be
that valuable?”

“Oh,
it is.”

“So
what then? What will you do when you don’t work in the bar?” Trudel asked.

Victor
wondered for a moment, smiling. “I’m thinking move down south. Enjoy the sun
for a while.”

“The
Riviera? Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,”
he said with another drink.

“Well,
where would I sing?”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
can’t leave! I am too attached to my theatre. How do you think my fans would
react?”

“Wait,
you’d want to come along?”

“Well,
that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

“Sure.”
Victor tried to cover his tracks. It hadn’t occurred to him to invite Trudel.

“You
weren’t going to invite me?!” She shouted as she rose grandly.

“Of
course I was, that’s what I’m doing now!” Victor answered, lying.

Trudel
turned to leave again. “I don’t know why I put myself through this kind of
thing,” she huffed as she rifled through her purse to find money for her
drinks. “It’s always the same with you. I come in to the bar, you don’t get
around to talking with me for thirty minutes these days, and even then you’re
distracted.”

“I’m
at work when that happens.”

“You
are always more interested in other women than you are in me, and here is
another instance when I am not a priority for you!”

“Those
other people in the bar are actual patrons. Would you take it easy?” He too
stood and reached for her arm, but she slapped his hand away.

“Don’t
touch me!” she snapped. The baristas were now beginning to notice the behavior
from the table.

“Okay.
Hang on. Don’t go,” Victor said with renewed calmness. “Please, let me start
over with this.”

“I’ll
give you five minutes. Start making sense.”

“Great,
thank you.”

“After
that,” she said as she sat down, “I’m going to find somewhere to enjoy the
evening outside without you.”

“Yes,
great. Thank you. Actually I do have to apologize,” Victor explained as they
both sat again. He shot a reassuring look toward the café employees as he
spoke. “I chose to sit inside for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Well,
it’s the coin. It is very valuable.”

“Yes,
you said that.”

“No
Trudie, you don’t understand. It’s
really
valuable.”

“Okay?”

“I
haven’t even told Fleuse or Jacques, yet,” the bartender admitted.

“Fleuse?
What does he have to do with anything?”

“Well,
he brought it to me. Apparently his friend, Jacques, is the one who first got
the coin.”

Trudel
thought for a moment. “Jacques? I don’t remember a friend of Fleuse’s named
Jacques. Actually, I’m not sure that I even remember him being mentioned.”

“Trust
me,” Victor said with a sip. “You would remember this guy. He’s an
impressionist.”

“I
hate impressionists.”

“I
told them you would.”

“Okay,
continue,” she said with a sigh.

“Well,
these guys bring me this coin, because they know that I’m into this stuff. Only
thing is, they have no idea how much it is worth.”

“And
you haven’t told them?”

“Well,
I myself didn’t know at the time either. I had to take it to the collectors
shop to get it appraised. I haven’t met with them yet on it.”

“So
how much is it worth? I didn’t know that you could move to the South of France
because of the price of one coin.”

“Well,
this is no ordinary collectible. As a coin itself, it’s already valuable. I was
glad to hear the initial estimates, but I did some digging of my own. See, this
particular coin has had articles written about it, files kept on it. It’s the
stuff of lore.”

 

*        *        *

 

Over
several more drinks, Victor laid out the entire story for Trudel. He detailed
everything from the coin itself to Peukington’s family. When it was finally
over, they sat in silence for almost an entire minute. With the warmth of
multiple drinks and fresh cocktails in front of them, Trudel finally broke the
quiet.

“Fleuse
is going to be thrilled,” she said. “Are you going to split it all evenly?”

Victor
took a sip and shifted. “We haven’t really spoken about it yet.”

“Well
that’s important, don’t you think? What if they want to give you less?”

“They
won’t.” Victor didn’t believe himself as he said it. He had known Fleuse for a
long time, but his new friend Jacques wasn’t a trustworthy person.

“So
when are you planning on seeing them next?”

“They
are going to stop in tomorrow on my next shift. They don’t know that I’ve had
it appraised already. They think that it’s going to happen tomorrow morning.”

“Why
didn’t you tell them?”

“Well,
at first I was going to immediately. I called off the first part of my shift today
just to be able to get it done early. I was curious.”

“So
why didn’t you go running to them with the good news?”

BOOK: Bender at the Bon Parisien (A Novel)
9.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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