“Oh that’s swell.”
When the train pulled into Grand Central, the two men walked together up the ramp. As they entered the main concourse, Lew pointed at the information booth in the center, topped with the shining golden clock.
“Soon, that will be all yours, my friend,” he said.
“I can’t wait.”
“Meet me at the clock at noon then. And we’ll go up to my suite and have lunch brought up. So bring your appetite.”
Kiner laughed and smiled and waved and then merged into the crowd queueing up the stairs.
Lew felt great. Screw the snow. Nothing could stop him now.
He hopped down the stairs to the food level, bouncing past dead-ahead-focused yuppies and turtle-slow tourists, and up to the coffee stand in the center. He looked above the queue and spotted a young cashier. Pimples. Headphones. Bored. Perfect. He lingered there, waiting for the line to dwindle. Just as a woman was leaving, he turned quickly to the cashier before the kid could close the register.
“Say,” Lew said. “Can you do me a big favor and give me a ten-dollar bill for ten singles?”
“Yeah, okay,” the cashier said, not even looking up. Classic.
Lew held out the bills. With the register open, the cashier picked up a ten and handed it to Lew. They exchanged bills at the same time. Then as the kid was trying to count, Lew said, “Oh, pardon me, I think I only gave you nine. You’d better check. I’ve got to tell you, I’m a cash user. I love using cash. All these fancy debit cards and Paypals, it’s just not the same, know what I mean? I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.”
The cashier counted the bills. His lips moved as he did it. “Yeah, it’s only nine.” In a mumble.
“Well, here you go, here’s another single,” Lew said. “Wait, wait a minute. You know what? Might as well give me a twenty. I love twenty dollar bills.” He handed over his eleven dollars.
“Whatever.”
The cashier handed him a twenty.
“Thanks,” Lew said. “You’re great.”
Lew walked away from the stand, nine dollars richer. It was a simple trick, a silly trick, but he couldn’t help himself. He walked back upstairs, through the throngs, whistling.
Lew stood at a row of what he figured were some of the last remaining public phones in the civilized world and dialed Bernie.
“Bernie! The pineapple is sweet.”
“What?” Bernie sounded nasal. More than usual.
“It’s happening,” Lew said. “He’s ready to be picked.”
“Oh, Lew. Gosh, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What?”
“I feel lousy. I mean, Lew, I think I’ve come down with the flu. Must have been from that dogface kid nex -”
“Flu? We’ve been setting this up for months. Not to mention how long it took to build the roll.”
“I understand that, Lew, but -”
“Men in our business don’t call in sick.”
Bernie blew his nose loudly, then sniffled. “That seems a bit extreme, Lew, I think. Don’t you -”
“Why didn’t you tell you felt sick last night at the bar?”
“I wasn’t so bad then, and -”
“Well, you have to get here.”
“Lew, I’m sorry. But I really feel like crap. And with this weather, I could catch pneumo -”
“I’m not kidding, Bern. The trick doesn’t work without you. He needs to see it. I can’t do this alone, if I postpone at all he might cool off. And I need this deal now.”
“You know my dad always said you should always have a little sta -”
“With Magda, Queen of the Shoppers, chained to me? I have exactly twenty bucks to bequeath to my heirs, should I pass yonder this very moment.” Lew did half a genuflection. “Besides the good faith roll. But that’s investment money.”
“Listen, I worked it out. I called Pete and he can be there. He’ll be -”
“Pete, your college-kid cousin from Red Hook? He’s no slouch. He’ll be smoother at Carswell than you.”
“Oh, and about the Hyatt. All the rooms -”
“What about the Hyatt?”
“That’s a no-go. I checked with Jose. All the rooms are booked on account of -”
“So it’ll have to be in here some place. Gotta think. Nothing’s going to stop this deal, Bernie. Certainly not the flu. The Queen needs a shopping spree, and she’s gonna get it. She’s a pain in the ass, but it’s my ass.”
“That’s funny, Lew. Hey, listen, so, Pete says he’ll meet you at eleven at the clock thing in -”
“In the center, yeah. Got it.”
“I’m really sorry, Lew. I -”
Lew slammed the phone onto the receiver so hard it made his hand sting. He looked up to see a cop watching him. The stink eye. Glaring. Lew gave him a weak smile and moved on.
Lew went back to the food concourse and walked around a few times to find a seat. The only one was in a sea of empty tables radiating ten feet in all directions from a very large homeless man sitting at a table in the center. Reek. Lew had smelled worse. He sat down.
He opened up a Metro that lay on the table next to his and began working on the Sudoku puzzle. He idly wrote in the numbers and thought back to how he had roped in Kiner. Someone had told Bernie that Kiner was a businessman looking for a way to the big time. Warren Kiner, King of the Kiosks.
Lew had started his routine of commuting up to Scarsdale to catch Kiner on the way down. He started standing near him, getting on the train with him, and then chatting him up. Eventually, the topic of business came up.
“I had a line on a big deal today,” Lew had told him, “but the investor dropped out. Tens of millions to be had.”
“Oh yeah. What was the deal?” Kiner said, his eyes taking on a shine.
“Well, it’s very hush hush, kind of a backdoor deal to avoid too many, um, civic complications. Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.”
“You know the big clock in the middle of Grand Central?”
“Sure, I pass it every day.”
“Well, the world has passed it by. Everything’s going digital, as you well know. So the GCRIC – that’s the Grand Central Radical Improvement Corporation – is replacing the info booth with an app – and leasing that booth to one lucky company.”
“What are they looking to put in there?”
“The usual. A Dunkin’ Donuts, Starbucks, Quiznos, something like that.”
“That would be horrible. Vulgar, even.”
“Wouldn’t it? It would be a stain on the great character of the terminal.”
“Agreed.”
“Now, what I’ve proposed is that the space be used as – get this – a digital tourism kiosk. A set of terminals with maps of the city, restaurant recommendations, the works. But with a classy look, you understand. I was working with a great company, and I was going to make the introduction – for a finder’s fee, of course – but they dropped.”
“Well, you know, my business is kiosks.”
“Is it?”
“Sure, we make info kiosks, news kiosks, you name it, we do it.”
“Well, that’s interesting.
“What kind of your finder’s fee are we talking about?”
“Ten grand. Cash. Too steep?”
“Oh, I think I can handle that.”
And that was how Lew hooked the big fish. Now he just had to reel him in.
Magda would be proud of him. If she only knew what he was up to. He’d just say he got a big bonus at work. She wasn’t the type to ask questions. She hadn’t been that type in a long time.
He had hooked her ten years ago, yanking her out of the hands of a bad, bad man. She was a thick, blousy gal who could make you feel like a king one minute and throw a rock glass at your head the next. But Lew loved a woman with spirit, and Magda had that in triplicate. Sure, things had gone sour in the last couple of years, but that was because his luck had caught the wrong train and had been delayed. But now it was coming in.
When he looked again at the Sudoku puzzle, he realized he had got too many 7s in one row. He folded up the paper and slid it off the table.