10. Mediating With Muppets
mediating with muppets
César
M y phone buzzes in my pocket while I’m conducting tech surveillance on a subject. My client has reason to believe their senior partner has been embezzling funds, and I have news for them.
This man is guilty, your honor.
I hope that buzz indicates Deirdre has actually left the house and isn’t running late again. She is the boss, but lateness is a pet peeve of mine. If you have no consideration for anyone else’s time, you can’t expect to build solid business relationships.
My clients are mostly CEOs, attorneys, and high-profile leaders that tend to provide me with unique cases and subjects. Even being outsourced for the Cartel keeps things interesting, but there are more dull days on the job than fun ones.
I fish my phone from my pocket to see a screen capture from my camera's motion sensor that Deirdre has left the house. She’s on a call with her friend Alora and is on track to actually be on time for work today. That’s more like it.
She often admits to being homesick when talking with friends.
Which makes me suspect the sad eyes have something to do with the distance from her loved ones or possibly the late boyfriend.
Though I can’t imagine he was anyone worth missing, judging from his rap sheet and how quickly she relocated to Austin.
Her phone taps are entertaining, to say the least. For someone who works so hard, she rewards herself in unique ways. Often unwinding with romance audiobooks and something called audio erotica, where people provide pleasure using only their voices.
I haven’t had the honor of witnessing her pleasure herself, because I was raised right and give her the privacy she’s entitled to.
As for conversations, she rarely discusses business over the phone. Most of her friends are scattered all over Texas and back in New York. From my understanding, they vacation together regularly.
They communicate with mostly voice messages, FaceTime, or group texts that consist of catching up, sending memes back and forth, and links to songs on Kiwi Music. I’ll admit, her music taste is attractive, and her most listened to song this month is “Pick Up Your Feelings” by Jazmine Sullivan.
I also couldn’t have predicted her having an interest in chopped and screwed music, which automatically makes her even finer to me.
A New Yorker with an appreciation for both east coast and southern hip-hop? As well as 2000s R&B, Neo soul, and Motown? If circumstances were different, it would be foolish to sleep on a woman like Deirdre.
This is yet another finding that affects my ability to view her as simply a subject.
The intel I gather doesn’t reveal things I’d otherwise learn from getting to know her as a person, like her all-time favorite songs, favorite food, or favorite color.
These are all interests that I shouldn’t be concerned with, but I can’t help myself.
I want to know her.
Once again, the Hales are late for our meeting.
Their voices travel up the hall, bickering like children, calling each other “bellends,” whatever the fuck that means.
I’m not sure what they’re upset about today, and I don’t care.
It’s a debriefing that should be over quickly since Ms. Klarke still leaves a lot to the imagination, despite the fact that I’ve surveilled her for the past six weeks.
On paper, Deirdre reads unbelievably clean for a mafia princess, but my instincts believe otherwise. Her family’s name holds entirely too much weight for her to be in this role without dirtying her hands.
Except intuition doesn’t solve cases, evidence does. And the lack of it isn’t helping me get any closer to wrapping this shit up. As frustrating as that is, the thought of sticking around a bit longer isn’t the worst thing.
Mi abuela has thankfully been less stubborn lately, listening to my sister and I about her diet. Her doctor has been pleased and assured us at this rate, it’s possible that we could have a bit more time with her.
That news makes me feel less guilty for taking this assignment and somewhat enjoying it. After all, Deirdre has become a part of my routine, and I pride myself on being disciplined.
I’ve found more about her relatives, which could be the leverage I need to blackmail her, giving my clients exactly what they need to win this bid. And while I’ve gone against protocol egregiously, crossing many lines for reasons I’m unsure of, I still intend to do my job. My family comes first.
She surprised me as a worthy opponent in this game of cat and mouse. Or lion and deer, in our case. A folktale with two possible endings, and the lion gets the raw end of the deal in both. If I’m not careful, the deer will outsmart me. I can’t allow that to happen.
Deirdre will be fine and can continue to do whatever the fuck it is she does. After I close this case, she’ll move on and find someone more acclimated to her lifestyle. I’ll pay off my sister’s tuition, and if we’re lucky, Abuela will be able to see her graduate.
And when the time comes, I’ll be able to honor her with the proper memorial in San Juan she’s asked for. I know better than to let my moral compass stand in the way of what’s best for those I love and provide for.
I stand to greet them when the door swings open. Dara leads with determined steps across the carpet to shake my hand, followed by Dax, who addresses me by name with correct pronunciation. They sit opposite each other at the conference table and stare expectantly at me.
“What’ve you got for us, mate?” Dax asks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Well, she had some interesting dealings in Brooklyn and was a person of interest in her boyfriend’s death last year.”
“Bloody hell. Even she doesn’t seem capable of murder,” Dax says, mussing his hair.
I agree , I think. Vowing to keep my opinions out of this, stating facts only.
My eyes catch on Dara’s hands, absentmindedly tearing at her cuticles as I speak.
And I thought Deirdre was an anxious girl.
“Her name was cleared quickly, and the cause of death revealed no foul play. She had an airtight alibi. Wasn’t even in the same state when the death occurred,” I clarify, looking directly at Dara so she’ll stop picking at herself.
She lets out a relieved sigh. “I suppose that’s good,” she says, straightening her spine and folding her hands on the desk.
“It isn’t, really. If she’s clean as a whistle, where does that leave us with the property bid? Surely, after all this time, you’ve found something we can actually use. Her family is full of murderers, for fuck’s sake.”
“At least between all the killing, they make a damn good whiskey,” Dara adds with a chuckle.
Dax stares daggers over the desk, asking, “And how would you know that?”
“Because I’ve tried it, of course. How do we expect to beat the competition if we’re unaware of what they bring to the table?” She scoffs. “Excuse my brother, he’s a bit soft in the head.” She snaps to herself, rhetorically asking, “What do you Americans call it? A dickhead?”
Here they go again.
I don’t bother responding, because it’s no use and I was wrong for assuming the argument I overheard would cease for the sake of this meeting. I’d walk out if I wasn’t being paid to be here.
“And Daddy thinks numpty here is the better leader,” she teases with an eye roll, all prior anxiousness gone.
“Piss off,” he retorts with a scowl. “Twat.”
“Not my fault you’re a fucking Muppet.”
“Are you two done? I don’t have all day,” I interrupt, my knee bouncing with impatience.
“Ah. Sorry. What else?” she asks, waving her hand as if to move the conversation along.
“I did find something interesting. Her relation to Regina Delvecchio, a crime boss who is well known for being far more dangerous than Deirdre. Better known as ‘The Devil in The Daylight’ for being an unsuspecting terror who hides in plain sight. She’s a grieving wife and mother with an alleged affinity for arson and murder. ”
I decide to withhold exactly why Regina is grieving. That information has nothing to do with Deirdre, and I’m not exactly comfortable with it being used against her. Regina’s husband, Cidro Delvecchio, disappeared eight months ago after a supposed deal went wrong.
The search continues as a body has yet to be found. Speculation is that she had something to do with his disappearance, but her actions following his death state otherwise.
Dara stiffens, biting her lip as her eyes widen. She asks, “Is she local?”
“No,” I assure them, shaking my head. And it’s a good fucking thing she isn’t, for their sake. “She resides in Brooklyn but travels here often. Rumor is she’s interested in opening a casino right here in Austin.”
They stare in horror, and I resist the urge to snort. Mira los maldito blanquitos. Scared that their antics will actually have consequences.
“Absolutely not. All the more reason we need you to get Deirdre to withdraw her bid,” Dara states, lifting her chin in indignation.
“Maybe we should consider making an offer to buy her out of their current location? If they don’t have business here, we could put a stop to that casino early. What do you think, César?” Dax suggests, staring expectantly at me.
Their uncle would have never suggested something like this.
He respected this community and enjoyed being a part of it.
Livelihoods shouldn’t be toyed with just because you’re at risk of losing something you don’t even need.
But of course, the Hales throw money at any issue without a care in the world.
“This isn’t my fight, but it’s worth considering the economic impact an acquisition could make.
And they may not even be willing to sell.
The Klarkes were here first and have contributed more to this community than y’all have.
Do you plan to displace their current employees?
Or offer them gainful employment? I’d suggest the latter.
Otherwise, people will likely come after your company. ”
I’m surprised at my cool response, but I refuse to bite my tongue, opting to keep it as professional as possible despite my anger. They have the audacity to come to a country that’s foreign to them and speak as if they have a say over who really belongs here. They almost sound like white Americans.
Regina opening a casino here would bring a lot of job opportunities and money to the area.
Crime would also follow, but it’s already here.
The Klarkes and Pineros are the most powerful families in Austin, and if the Hales even attempt to fuck with their current ecosystem, they’ll have a lot more to worry about than losing bids.
I eye my watch and excuse myself, seeing we almost went over time. “I have an appointment I need to make, so I’ll get going.”
“Alright, mate. Thank you. Cheerio,” he says, pushing his chair in to see me out. As always, we part with handshakes.
I get one foot out of the door and stop myself, choosing to give them another piece of advice. They don’t deserve it, but if these idiots get themselves killed, that affects my livelihood.
“I think you need to call Theo for insight on how to handle things in this city. He took the time to learn, and you should, too.”
Dax nods in agreement, and Dara stares contemplatively.
“I’ll reach out with any new findings, and we’ll schedule another meeting. Take care,” I say before closing the door behind me.