Week 8 - The Family Portrait – Part 5

The Family Portrait – Part 5

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Continued...

Watching the flames, Artemis couldn’t help but think of Johnny Cash and wonder about who it was exactly that had actually written “The Ring of Fire.” In his mind he began to hear the mariachi horns. He almost whistled out loud, but caught himself. It was a highly inappropriate moment for levity. Despite his feelings for the song, Lou would be in no mood for it.

“You’re going to be okay.”

Lou frowned but said nothing. He was definitely not okay in this moment.

“I mean, not here and now in this exact moment, but things will be okay.”

It didn’t seem as though it should be possible, but Lou’s frown went from bad to worse. It was pretty much a glare to begin with, but now it was full-on scowl. Artemis wanted to make another comment about making faces and getting stuck, something he could remember his mother telling him once as a child. But Lou was currently not a man to be trifled with.

Lou looked at him as if reading Artemis’s mind, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. It looked as if he was going to be very very vulgar. In a way Artemis admired Lou’s self-control. Artemis didn’t think he’d be able to keep things together as well as Lou was.

After the week he had been having, and the way he had been drinking his way through his problems, Artemis realized he could still learn a thing or two from Lou.

Earlier in the week, Artemis had learned about the so-called “Halo Effect.” It was something stupid that happened when people wanted something because of imaginary reasons like perceived value instead of a reason that actually might mean something. Or at least that was Artemis’ interpretation of things.

At an auction, prices could skyrocket. It might make grownups behave like children and quibble and squabble over nothing at all. Somebody wanted a new toy and somebody else wanted it simply because the other person wanted it first. Drive the price up. Cause a bidding war. Ruin a relationship. Scorch the earth around you. But don’t let someone else get what they want. Oh no, you couldn’t let that happen. There’s no winning if someone else gets it.

Who were the past owners? Who had it last? Who wanted the bragging rights the most? As far as he could tell, these were not good reasons to covet.

Artemis wasn’t sure if people killed because of it, but he was beginning to suspect they just might.

Ajax had been hired to do a muscleman’s job and bring Artemis to Mr. Thornewill for questioning regarding a missing painting. He had been instructed to make it hurt. Artemis actually knew Ajax, and Ajax actually liked Artemis. He wasn’t against beating Artemis a little, but he was a good enough friend to give Artemis an advance warning. It was the decent thing to do.

They negotiated a settlement where Artemis would only have to take a punch or two to put on a good show, and Ajax’s reputation as a man who did his job would remain intact.

As it turned out, the theatrics weren’t necessary at all.

Ajax brought Artemis to Bel Air, but instead of finding Mr. Thornewill, they found a carpet soaked with blood. Mr. Thornewill had falsely believed Artemis had stolen his semi-rare, semi-precious “blood painting.” Artemis didn’t know much about obscure subgenres of art, but he knew that rivals had killed over less.

Artemis had an uneasy feeling that somehow he was going to be blamed for this crime as well.

He turned to Ajax and said, “You’re my witness that I didn’t do this.”

Ajax nodded, but they both knew they weren’t about to go to the police with this. There was no way either of them could explain what their day job was or why they were mixed up with a rich man that didn’t follow the rules, who had apparently been reduced to a puddle in his own living room.

Artemis called for Cole to join them in the house. Despite Artemis’ protests, Cole had come along to serve as backup. He had also brought with him his favorite rifle. Artemis couldn’t imagine what Cole would have done if the situation had actually demanded action. Cole didn’t seem like the killing type, but how could Artemis really tell? Artemis didn’t know what his friend was really capable of. He didn’t like being in a situation where he would have to find out.

Cole came into the living room and followed their eyes to the floor. He looked at the blood and then at Artemis again.

“You didn’t?”

“No. Did you?”

“No. I swear, no.”

“You’re the one that brought a gun.”

“Yeah, I shot him and made the body disappear and neither of you heard a thing while I did it. That makes a helluva lot of sense, doesn’t it?”

“You said you had tricks.”

“Do you think I’m magic? You literally, actually think I could magically do all this and that’s what I meant when I said I had a few tricks up my sleeve. I’m the greatest hitman ever.”

“You sound a little agitated. I don’t want to agitate the man with the gun.”

“Art, I know you want to stand here and make your jokes, but might I suggest we get the hell out of here?”

“You were the one giving speeches about magic.”

“You are nothing but grief to me.”

“I’m just saying.”

Artemis did agree that Cole had a point. No good was going to come from being a criminal and hanging around in a house they had no business being in, a house where someone was killed. Still, Artemis wished he had an additional moment. He was sure if he had just another moment to think about it he could come up with something ironic to say about the bloody remains of a man who loved blood paintings and how while a fitting end, this blood stain was no work of art. He was sure it would be very clever. He’d work on it in the car and tell Cole later.

Ms. Thorne wasn’t at her Mt. Olympus mansion. Artemis was pretty sure it was her that had caused the blood stain at Thornewill’s home. Things were getting messy. He had to find her, find out if he was being framed for murder. He needed information about her, her past, and her previous relationship with Thornewill. But first he needed to search his apartment and make sure the murder weapon hadn’t somehow been planted there while he had been out.

Artemis really wished he hadn’t been so intoxicated the last several days. It really had affected his job performance. He wanted to blame Amy for choosing such a piss-poor time to leave him, but that would have to wait.

Artemis wasn’t sure how he was going to find Ms. Thorne or make sure he wasn’t going to be blamed for all of this. Good for him, she was waiting for him inside his apartment. Bad for him, she had a gun pulled and aimed at him. She held it like a woman that knew a thing or two about shooting it. She held it like she had recently fired it and wasn’t afraid to do so again.

To be continued...

Week 7 - The Family Portrait – Part 4

The Family Portrait – Part 4

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Continued...

Enforcers hit hard. Even when they weren’t really trying. That’s what made them good at their job. And when they were trying? Well, there’s a reason they were called “Bone Breakers.” Artemis sometimes called them thugs or dumb-and-uglies, but he was trying to be polite to the man that was about to hit him in the face. Enforcers were really jack-of-all-trades muscle that could be hired for a wide variety of no-questions-asked sorts of jobs. Many of them were former police or military. They were strong and had absolutely no problem with physical violence. When someone wanted something done quietly and correctly and with any amount of force necessary, the Enforcers got the call.

Artemis had a bad hangover. He assumed being struck was only going to make things worse. His drinking was really getting in the way of him doing his job effectively. Artemis took a job he knew nothing about, where he was supposed to serve a role he wasn’t comfortable serving. Artemis had failed in his negotiations with Mr. Thornewill, trying to secure a painting for his client Ms. Thorne. He didn’t know why she wanted it or what the history was between them or what the intrigue was regarding the painting. He was letting things like research and analysis slide. He was getting sloppy. And now it was starting to cost him.

Word had spread around the underground about the commission and his failure to complete it. He had pretty much failed at just about everything the last few days. His reputation had taken a hit. Rumors would soon be getting back to the people Artemis worked for. They wouldn’t be happy he was taking freelance work without them getting their cut. They would like it even less that he had been so blatant about it and that the whole town had heard about it by now. While they valued their profit, they valued their reputation just as much. No one in the future was going to hire thieves that didn’t do their jobs right or at least have the proper discretion to not be made into a mockery.

Ms. Thorne wasn’t happy with Artemis. She considered the job botched and was threatening not to pay the remainder of his fee. Worse, Mr. Thornewill didn’t appreciate having been threatened by Thorne or Artemis. And even though he had simply been speaking for her, apparently Mr. Thornewill blamed Artemis all the same. He had hired the Enforcers to make that point abundantly clear.

Cole was an old friend from Artemis’ early days as pickpocket on the streets of downtown L.A. Cole worked as a detective now. He heard the news around the office, and had come to warn Artemis, only to walk in while the Enforcer was doing his job and it looked as if Artemis was going to take a severe beating.

Cole jumped into the fray, like a good friend would. Cole was a better fighter than Artemis ever was, but he was still hardly a match for the behemoth in front of them both. Neither Cole nor Artemis had much training of any sort. They weren’t the sort of men that usually resorted to fisticuffs. Even teamed up together, it wasn’t going to be much of a match. The thing was Cole didn’t have a clear picture of what was really going on. All he knew was his friend was in danger. What he didn’t realize was what was happening in the room right then and there, so instead of asking questions, he attacked the Enforcer.

“Wait!” screamed Artemis.

But it was too late, Cole was already committed. He struck the Enforcer, who for his part showed no signs of being hurt. Instead, his body just reacted and suddenly he was the one of the offensive and Cole was struggling to try and protect his vital organs.

Artemis pleaded with them to stop, yelling that he knew them both and that this was all a misunderstanding. But no one was listening by that point. He knew what he had to do. He just didn’t want to do it.

Artemis jumped into the fray and tried to separate them. This was not a good idea.

“Cole! Wait! I know him…” Artemis took an elbow to the gut and suddenly his insides shook. Drinking for the better part of the week had not left him in good condition. His stomach was about to vacate itself.

Artemis ran off to vomit, and Cole and the Enforcer seemed to take note.

“That can’t be good.”                                         

“No,” Cole agreed. “Did Art say he knows you?”

“Jax,” the Enforcer replied, offering Cole his hand to shake.

“Right. You’re the junior detective.”

“I prefer ‘in training’.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.”

Cole wanted to be insulting, but he knew it would do him no good. There was little that he could say or do that would hurt this man. Still, he didn’t appreciate being condescended to.

Just them Artemis came back in the room, brushing his teeth to get rid of the flavor of sick.

“You know this guy?” demanded Cole.

Artemis nodded and mumbled through the mouthful of toothpaste.

“He’s an old friend. I worked with Ajax on some co-ventures.”

“Even thieves need muscle sometimes,” confirmed Ajax.

“So what was he doing beating you in the face?”

“He was here to warn me. When the contract came in, he took the job so no else would.”

“But he was hitting you.”

“So it would look like he did his job. But he wasn’t going to do any real damage.”

“Not like some of my coworkers would have.”

“Relax, Cole; it’s all going to be okay. Let me buy you both a drink and we can set everything straight.”

Artemis hardly ever paid for the drinks he drank at “Lou’s” but these guys didn’t need to know that.

Lou set down a fresh round of glasses on the table and went back to the bar. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen in; it was just that there were other paying customers there today so he couldn’t ignore his barkeep duties without raising suspicions. Ajax sat at the bar with Lou and let Cole and Artemis discuss the events of the day.

Artemis powered through the beer. He wasn’t sure if he was still in danger of vomiting again, but the drink turned out to help to take the edge off all Artemis’ problems.

Cole noticed how quickly Artemis was consuming his drinks. “You always drink this much while at work?” Clearly Cole did not approve.

Without missing a beat, Artemis replied “only after my wife leaves me.”

Cole instantly felt bad.

“Amy left you? God damn, I’m sorry Art. I didn’t know. Did she leave you leave you, or is this just one of her things?”

“Only time will tell.”

They sat in awkward silence for a moment and Artemis continued to drink quickly.

“I know I screwed up. And I know it probably wouldn’t have happened if my head had been in the right place. But I’m not in need of a lecture right now.”

“Fine. I’ll save it ‘til after we get you out of this mess. Just what is this mess you got yourself into? You’re advertising your thefts now?”

“God that sounds stupid. And yet it probably sounds better than what really happened. I took a job to help facilitate a deal.”

“You’re a negotiator now?”

“No. And that’s the problem. Rich Hollywood Hills type wants me to intimidate rich Beverly Hills type. No rich person likes being threatened or being disappointed. Rock, hard place.”

“So now that it’s really been stolen, it looks like…”

“It looks like I’m the one who did it.”

 “Scylla and Charybdis.”

“What?”

“Rock and a hard place.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“You know, for a guy with a mythological name, you really don’t know too much about it.”

“Jesus Christ, Cole, I do not have the patience for a history lesson today.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t drink so much on the job.”

“I’m going to hire Ajax to punch you in the face and see how you like it.”

“Your bruises are coming in quite nicely, nicely.”

“Guys and Dolls.”

“Broadway you get. Greek, not so much.”

“I’m a man of limited taste, I suppose. But at least I know my limits.”

“Can’t imagine why Amy got tired of you. No not at all.”

“Too soon for that. Let’s get back to this current thing.”

“So the whole town is starting to talk. You’re in a bit of a reputation rumor mess. What did the Guild say?”

“I… have not called in. And they have not called me. So I imagine this will pretty much screw me with them. I’m not a favorite there anyway. My earnings suck. I’m not allowed to take solo jobs. So an unsanctioned one? Yeah, they’re not going to be happy about that. Maybe they fire me. Or they punish me to prove a point. At best I get parole or pay some penalty fee on the commission. A commission I didn’t fully get paid because Ms. Thorne didn’t feel I truly delivered on my promises. And on top of all that, after this, clients aren’t going to trust me. A thief that makes a mess of things and doesn’t end up with the painting? What good is that?”

“So this could ruin your career.”

“Maybe I’ll go work for your agency.”

“Sounds like we have to get the painting back.”

“Ouch. You wouldn’t even put in a good word for me?”

“All I do all day is research. Does that sound like your strong suit?”

“We have to get the painting back.”

“We have to get the painting back.”

“And make it look like I was never involved in the first place.”

“How do we do that?”

“I’m working on it. But first I have to go with the bone-breaker to see Mr. Thornewill and convince him I didn’t do what he thinks I did. Maybe now that his man has bruised my face, he’ll play nice and stop bruising my reputation.”

“Let me back you up. You walk in there alone, you won’t walk out.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” But Artemis realized Cole was probably right.

“Okay. But you’re back-up and that’s it. Character assassination is one thing, but if I wanted a hitman, I’d hire one.”

“You act like that’s my first course of action.”

“I know it’s an easy one.”

“Yeah, but that’s not how I make my living. Trust me, I have other tricks.”

To be continued...