Pickpocket Frankie by Roberto Scarlato

Author:Roberto Scarlato
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: funny, mystery, thriller, crime fiction, suspense, noir
Publisher: Roberto Scarlato
Published: 2016-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty Three

And just like that, with Claudia’s dogged persistence, we leapt off together and found that we both could fly. We were high on each other.

By the end, we were cuddled up under the blanket, resting, still sliding our hands over each other.

“Claudia?”

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t smoke.”

She laughed.

“Mind if I do?”

She mimed a smoke and blew a fake cloud at me.

I didn’t want to untangle myself away from her silly ass.

In full Natasha mode, she played the game further, “Now, Mr. Danby, I must admit that this was my plan all along. To meet you. Find a way into your deepest darkest fears until we could retrieve the microfilm of your recent days in Bucha...”

The leg screeched and gave.

Clunk!

The Futon broke on the right side and we accidentally butted heads.

“Eieee, shit.”

“Ooof,” she said. “Could’ve done without that.”

“Sorry ma’am, looks like I can’t stand on my own two feet.”

“Guess not.”

“Let me ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Were you going anywhere with that long spiel?”

“No,” she admitted. “Just wanted to see how cliché I could get.”

Naturally, we crammed ourselves into my shower for round two. And after we washed each other, we got dressed, kissed and settled down for a nice calm flick – Sunset Boulevard.

“You know she’s screwing that monkey, right?”

She cocked her head at me.

“Frankie, are you serious?”

“Never. But that’s not the point. She’s screwing that monkey.”

“She’s a lonely loon looking for a writer.”

“Who wanted some curious George action.”

She swatted me. “You’re sick.”

“Monkey see, monkey do.”

We laughed for a while, and then at 5:00 she had to leave. Told me her pops was expecting her to make dinner that night. The man loved his barbequed spare ribs.

We stole another kiss as she stepped out into the hall.

“Thanks for cracking my eggs, maybe someday I can take a crack at yours.”

“That sounded cooler in your head, didn’t it?”

In kissing her, she ran her fingers through my hair as she bit my lip, then let go letting it flap against my gums.

“Yep.”

I watched her scoot down the hall until she rounded the corner and made her way down the staircase.

Who was I kidding? I was crazy about her.

So crazy that I didn’t want her involved in my mess.

You know what members of the criminal underground always say – Don’t shit where you live.

Or eat.

Don’t shit where you eat?

Where you play?

Is it, don’t shit where you play?

I guess.

I mean...

No shitting!

The dossier on the party was tucked safely in a large Ziploc bag, duct-taped to the inside of my toilet bowl’s water tank. I saw it done in the movies and figured if I was going to protect Claudia, I best do it as sneakily as possible. Plus, all women hate toilets.

After I tossed the bag in the garbage, I drew the blinds and got down to business. On that special night, according to the documents, I would be picked up by a limo, while a waiting tux would be stashed inside a broom closet on the third floor. My driver’s name was Henry.

Cute, I thought. Just like for Henry Pitkin, the morose watchmaker.

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