One Good Deed(8)

He caught the woman’s eye on this. She seemed to be calculating him in a new and maybe more favorable light.

He ran his eye over the paper.

“Nineteen forty-seven Cadillac Series 62 sedan painted dark green. And the license plate number is listed.”

The man pointed to the page. “That’s right. That’s the collateral for the loan that was not repaid. That’s what I want you to get for me.”

Archer scratched his chin. “Okay, got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Nothing personal, but how do I know he didn’t repay you?”

“Now you’re thinking. I like that. Well, here’s how. If the man had paid the loan, this note would be returned to him. Fact that I still got it shows that never happened. Tuttle’s a smart man and he’d never have let his money go without getting this in return. See, this is same as cash money, mister. Same as those five twenties right there. And you see the date the loan was due.” He shuffled back to the first page and stabbed at a line with his finger. “Right there. You read that. Go on.”

Archer did so, doing the numbers in his head. “That date’s exactly two months ago yesterday.”

“That’s right.”

“Got me another question.”

“You like your questions,” said the man, and Jackie giggled.

“How come it’s two months past due, and you don’t have the money or the Caddy yet? You don’t strike me as a man overly full of generosity.”

The man looked at Jackie. “This gent is a keeper, Jackie, I’m telling you.”

Jackie commenced shooting admiring glances Archer’s way and giggled once more.

“She your wife?” asked Archer, though he saw no ring on her.

“I got me a wife, but she ain’t it,” said the man offhandedly.

Jackie’s giggle died in her throat as she glanced, embarrassed, at Archer. She took a sip of her gator bog drink and said, “There’s no need to be like that.”

The man glanced at her, a look on his mug that Archer had seen many times before on gents, especially in bars, and one he had never once liked.

“Did I ask for your opinion, sweet cheeks?”

“Well, no, but—”

His hand shot out, gripped her wrist, and squeezed. “Then keep it to your goddamn self, you hear me?”

Archer tensed and was about to jerk the man’s hand off her, when he caught a look from Jackie that silently pleaded with him to do no such thing. Archer relaxed back against the bar as the fellow gave Jackie’s wrist one more grind and then flung her hand away as he drilled her with a look of quiet satisfaction. “Just so we understand each other, honey.” He turned back to Archer like nothing had just happened.

“So?” asked Archer expectantly, masking his anger.

“The truth is I’ve tried to collect on this debt, only Mr. Tuttle is not amenable to honoring the debt.”

“And how many men have you paid a hundred dollars to try for you?”

“Well, I will concede that you are not the first. The exact number I prefer to keep private. But I will say that Lucas Tuttle is not a man you want to crowd.”

“And suppose I try and fail? Do I keep the money?”

“Depends on the effort expended. I mean, you can’t just waltz on down the road and make a feeble attempt at obtaining my collateral and then expect to get the cash, now can you?”

“I don’t expect so, no. Then, you would be the judge of that?”

“I would be, but I’m a reasonable man. Wouldn’t be in business for long if I weren’t.”

“And if I failed your expectations, I’d have to give this back?”

“Well, the fact of the matter is, soldier, till you deliver me the car or show me the efforts you undertook to my reasonable satisfaction, you don’t walk out of here with that money. I just put it there as what they call an inducement.”

“Supposing I have expenses in gaining back your collateral? How am I to pay for them with nothing up front? You see my problem?”

“What sort of expenses?”

“Till I see the lay of the land and this Mr. Tuttle in particular, how should I know?”

The man looked warily at Archer, then at the money, and then back at Archer.

“You’re the first one to lay out that issue.”

“Well, I’m looking ahead. Maybe I get this done for you, there’s more opportunity for me in Poca City, like you said.”

“How much front money are we talking about then?” asked the man warily.

“I’d say two Jacksons would do amply.”

The man picked up a pair of bills and handed them to him. “I’m placing my faith in you. Now, see here, what’s your name, soldier?”

“Aloysius Archer.”

“That’s a heckuva name. You go by your Christian name, son?”

Archer shook his head. “Too hard to spell and most folks can’t pronounce it. I go by Archer.”

The man put out his hand. “I’m Hank, Hank Pittleman.”

“Well, Mr. Pittleman, let me see what I can do. Now, if I get the car for you, doesn’t that mean he gets that paper you showed me marked paid? So, do I need to take that with me?”