A small mahogany table, three or four upholstered armchairs, scones and cream cheese on a sideboard, a fax machine against the wall, and four separate telephones. All we need to do a little damage.
"Good choice," Shep says, slinging his coat over the back of one of the armchairs. Even if they tracked him down...
"…they'd only find a few Wayne & Portnoy clients," I add, tossing my coat over his.
"You guys are real geniuses," Charlie adds. Can we continue now with what we have come to do? Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Shep slides into one of the armchairs, pulls the number out of his pocket, and grabs the phone receiver in a meaty claw. As he dials the number, Charlie hits the Speakerphone button on the starfish-shaped PA system in the center of the table. Everyone loves conferences.
The phone rings three times before someone answers.
"Legal office," a male voice says.
Shep is calm.
"Hello, I need a lawyer and I was wondering what type of law Mr.... uh... Mr.... specializes in."
—Bendini.
"That's... Bendini..." Shep repeats, writing the name down on a piece of paper. I was wondering what type of law Mr. Bendini specializes in.
"What kind of specialization are you looking for exactly?"
Shep nods at us. There we have our man.
"Actually, we're looking for someone who specializes in keeping things…well, we hope to keep things a bit low-key…"
On the other side of the line there is a pause.
"You can talk to me," Bendini says.
Shep jumps out of his seat. He paces around the room, though the powerful frame of his makes it seem more like a clumsy, lumbering gait. I can't tell if he's excited or scared. I bet on the former. After all these years behind a desk, his inner James Bond is back in action.
"I'll put you through with my partner," he tells Bendini. Shep nods to me as I force myself to get as close to the speaker as I can.
"If you lean over you'll end up eating it," Charlie jokes.
"Mr. Bendini...?" -I ask. Nobody answers.
Shep shakes his head. Charlie laughs and pretends that he is coughing. I start to speak. Without using names.
—The thing is this: I want you to listen to me carefully and I want you to call this number… —I want, I want, I want, I say, clearly establishing my position. Charlie seems to put up with my new tone of voice with no problem. He is happy to see me strong...more demanding. At least I've learned something from Lapidus after all these years.
"The place is called Purchase Out International and you have to ask for Arnie," I explain. He does not allow them to happen to him with any other person. Arnie is the only one we deal with. When you talk to him, you should tell him that you need a four-layer cake for the same day, final destination in Antigua. He'll know what it's about.
"Trust me, man, I know how to build corporations quietly," Bendini interrupts in an unmistakable Jersey accent.
"Don't back down," Charlie whispers.
I'm not going to do it. I have a flushed face and a bright look. I finally start to feel the blood running through my veins.
- What name do you want to appear under? Bendini asks.
"Martin Duckworth," we all say simultaneously.
I swear I can see Bendini roll his eyes.
-Fine. Martin Duckworth," he repeats. And as for the initial property title?
He needs another fake name. It doesn't matter, everything ultimately belongs to Duckworth.
"Ribbie Benson," I say, using the name of Charlie's imaginary friend when he was six.
-Ok. Ribbie Benson. And how does he want to pay Arnie's bill?
Fuck. He hadn't thought of it.
Charlie and Shep are about to intervene but I wave at them.
"You can tell him we'll pay you when we request the original documents." For now we just need a fax," I decide. Before Bendini can argue, I add, "It's what he does with big shots; they don't pay until the money arrives. Tell him we are whales.
Charlie looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time in his life.
"That's how you talk," he whispers to Shep.
"And when does he need it?" Bendini asks.
"How about him in half an hour?" - I answer the.
There is another brief pause.
"I'll do what he can," Bendini says, unperturbed. He clears his throat to give more emphasis to his words and adds, "And how am I going to get paid?"
I look at Charlie. He looks at Shep. Bendini doesn't seem like the kind of guy you say just send me the bill.
"Tell me what his rate is," Shep says.
"Tell me how much I'm worth," Bendini replies.
I press the Handsfree button and unplug the speakerphone.
"We mustn't haggle!" -hiss-. We are running out of...
"I'll give him a thousand bucks in cash if he can do it in half an hour," Shep says, turning the speakerphone back on. "One of the greats?" Bendini asks. Guys, I don't fall for a big one, even when I have to. The minimum is five grand.
Shep shoots me a panicked look and I look at Charlie. My brother shakes his head. His cookie tin is always empty. I press my lips together as I glance at the clock. It takes money to make money. I look at Shep and can't help but nod. Charlie knows what it means. There goes some of the savings for the School of Business Administration... and for the hospital bills.
"Don't worry," Charlie whispers with a hand on my shoulder. It is another expense that we will put in the Lapidus account.
"Okay, he'll have them," Shep tells Bendini. We'll send you the money as soon as we've hung up. Reading the white sticker on the fax machine, Shep gives him our phone and fax numbers, thanks the scammer, and hangs up.
The room is plunged into deathly silence.
"Well, I think everything turned out great," Charlie says, waving her arms in the air.
"There won't be any problems," Shep says. I nod quickly.
Then with slower movements. "So you think it will work?"
I ask anxiously.
"Here we go again… just three seconds," Charlie says. Old Oliver is back.
"As long as your friend Arnie does his part…" Shep says.
"Trust me, Arnie will finish the job in ten minutes. Fifteen tops," he added, watching Charlie's reaction. He thinks I'm making up a plausible-sounding explanation. Arnie is a hippy fringe who lives in the Marshall Islands, he's a daisy pro and he busts the government all day.
"In what way?" Charlie asks.
"Arnie's job is to register corporations all over the world; he provides them with names, addresses, even directories. You've already seen the classified ads, they're in all the magazines for domestic airlines: Hate the IRS? Do you pay too much tax? Private overseas companies guarantee your privacy!
"And do you think he'll be able to start a company in the next half hour?" Charlie asks.
"Trust me, in the last few months he's been in charge of setting up ABC Corp, DEF Corp, and GHI Corp. All the paperwork is already done... each corporation is nothing more than a folder on a shelf." When we call him, he simply writes our false name in the few remaining blank spaces and completes it with a notary's signature. To be honest, I'm surprised it took so long...