My Boss is the Devil by Schenkman Ben

Author:Schenkman, Ben
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-12-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Have you ever had the experience of validating your suspicions when all you wanted to do was to be proven wrong? That was me.

I spent the rest of the week, and the entirety of the next, tailing Daniel to keep tabs on where he went and who he talked to. Spending as much time as I did watching someone do the same thing every day, I started noticing little things. Lunch was always out of a small red cooler, eaten outside on the bumper of his van with the back doors open if the weather was good. Some days it was a sandwich, others something out of a plastic container, but every day he had the same thermos. It was still early Spring, so I wasn't surprised to see it. On Thursday, armed with some bias against the man I was watching, and starting to nitpick the scenes in front of me, I realized what had been nagging at me the whole week. It hit me like a bolt of lightning, staring at Daniel’s lunchtime beverage.

Steam.

Well, a lack of steam. Every day at lunch he had that thermos, and every day he poured himself cups of something brown to drink out of it. I had assumed it was coffee or tea, but there was never steam rising from his cup, or when he opened the thermos. Unfortunately, that wasn't a slam dunk on “Eric's father is an abusive alcoholic” but I suddenly had something to go on. Necessity was the mother of invention, and I was looking at a difficult problem. Separating a man from what might be his booze was a tricky proposition in even regular situations. I couldn't rightly walk up to him and ask for a sip, no matter how dressed down I was. I didn’t think I had the acting experience to pass as homeless. Luckily for me, there was a laundry list of heist movies I had watched ticking through my head, and a plan was quickly formed. This was either going to go off flawlessly, or I was going to need to beat a hasty retreat.

Friday arrived, and I followed Daniel to his building of the day, a brick apartment building on Howe Street. Luck was on my side so far. The weather was good, which meant my target would be outside, and there was a small alley next to the building. Mr. Digger played his part and set himself up with a sandwich and his thermos, poured himself a small cup, and took out his cell phone.

I walked into the alley and called the contracting company that he worked for, asking to speak with Daniel Digger. I made up an excuse that I was calling from his doctor's office and needed to speak with him; they said they would ring him and then patch me through if they could reach him. Watching from the alley, I heard Daniel's phone ring and saw him answer it. I couldn't hear who was on the other end, but I assumed it was the dispatcher.

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