The Chinese Jars (14 page)

“It's not so important, now that the truth's come out and the case is in the hands of Homicide. I just went there today to scare the shit out of Maurice so he'll make a mistake. I have a lot of accounts to settle with that bastard, and with a little luck I'll be able to trap him,” said Charles.

“I thought he was pretty sure of himself. If we knew who he was protecting, we could solve this case,” said Samuel.

“What interests me is if there's been a federal crime committed. Otherwise, I can't get involved.”

“Two guys pushing a man in front of a trolley bus isn't a federal crime. Is that what you're saying?” asked Samuel.

Charles laughed. “It's been a busy day, ol' buddy. Now we just have to wait for Sandovich to stick his foot in it.”

“If he's so shrewd, what makes you so sure he'll make a mistake?”

“Because I know that bastard. He can't keep his hands out of the cookie jar, and you can bet he got paid plenty for deep-sixing that report,” said Charles. “Now whoever paid him will want their money back or at least more bang for their buck.”

R
OBERTO
, Count Maestro de Guinesso Bacigalupi Slotnik de Transylvania, was sitting at the round table of Camelot talking with Melba when Samuel walked in on another Sunday afternoon a couple of weeks later.

“What a surprise to see you, Maestro Bob. Where the hell you been?” asked Samuel.

“That's a good question, young man. I could beat around the bush, but I'll be honest with you. I've been drying out,” said Maestro, without his usual Slavic accent.

“Drying out? I had no idea you had that problem.”

Samuel took a seat next to him. Maestro had on his old black pinstripe suit and heavily starched shirt with slightly tattered cuffs, which didn't look white anymore. He still had the beginnings of his handlebar mustache, but his hair had turned almost completely gray. Samuel thought he was mortally ill or had had a brutal trauma, one of those that turns one's head gray overnight. Noticing the difference, Samuel pointed to his hair, “You look different.”

“I just let it grow out. I got tired of dyeing it. I learned a lot about myself up at Duffy's, the dry-out place,” said Maestro, with a sigh.

Excalibur got up from under the table and put his head in between Samuel's legs. Samuel tried to push him away, but the dog started licking his hands affectionately.

“Get away from me, you goddamned mutt,” said Samuel. But the dog stayed where he was, and started scratching his absent ear.

“How long were you there?” interrupted Melba.

“Eight weeks.”

“Isn't that a long time?” asked Samuel.

“Not when the booze has taken control of your life,” said Maestro. “I needed to get it out of my system and start over again on the right track.”

“That must have cost a fortune,” said Samuel.

“Luckily, a kind patron helped me pay the bill. You know I couldn't have afforded it all by myself,” he said with teary eyes.

“Who was the good Samaritan?” asked Samuel.

“No one you know,” said Melba, and Samuel saw her exchange glances with Maestro.

“I'm really surprised. I never thought of you as a drunk.”

“Everyone has his moments of darkness, friend. I just couldn't make ends meet. My magic wasn't paying the bills and no one came to see me for notary work, so I started buying that cheap Gallo Tokay, and pretty soon I was drinking for a living.”

“Besides your gray hair, you look great now,” said Melba. “Are you cured?”

“Unfortunately, being cured is a life-long struggle. I just have to make sure I stay away from it today, then tomorrow, and then the day after,” sighed the Maestro.

“Are you sure this is the right place to be, with that constant temptation?” asked Samuel, pointing to the liquor behind the bar.

“These surroundings are kind of my home. I don't have any other place to go. Here is where my friends are,” said Maestro. “So far, I'm okay.”

“We're here to make sure that he only drinks soda water. No one is going to give Bob any booze,” said Melba.

“What's in that little black bundle over there?” asked Samuel.

“Those are Tarot cards,” said Maestro. “I learned how to use them when I was at the clinic. They're an ancient way of telling fortunes,” said Maestro, unwrapping them from the black handkerchief.

“What do you mean, ancient? A hundred years?” asked Samuel, looking at the beautifully rendered cards. He pictured Gypsy women in an Old West setting with a sign outside a broken-down shack, agreeing to read one's fortune for a nickel or a dollar or whatever the freight would bear.

“Hundreds maybe thousands of years old,” explained Maestro. “I figured, since my two businesses weren't doing so well, I'd spend my spare time learning the ropes so I could create another source of income.”

“How long did you study?” asked Samuel, touching the cards, drawn in by curiosity.

“Almost the whole time I was there. There was a fortune-teller who was also drying out. She had a spare deck of cards, and I found three books on the origins and meaning of the Tarot in Duffy's library. The fortune-teller makes a living by charging for a reading. She said with my background as a magician, I was a natural. Figure it out. I can do a reading in half an hour. I can do sixteen a day, easy, and I can charge two dollars per session. I'll have it made.

“That is if you get sixteen takers,” laughed Melba.

“Two bucks, huh?” said Samuel. “Will you do a reading for me at that price?”

“Certainly, young man. Let's go over here to get away from the crowd.”

“Before you leave this afternoon, talk to me, Samuel. I've some news for you,” said Melba, as she got up and walked toward the bar.

Samuel and Maestro sat down at an out-of-the-way table in the rear of the bar, and Maestro shuffled the Tarot cards. They were bigger than playing cards, and each had a human figure or a combined human and animal figure on it.

“You'll understand more as I help you unravel the mysteries of your life,” he said with such a serious look that Samuel felt it was inevitable he was going to be duped.

“Separate them into three piles and shuffle 'em, not the way you would playing cards, but gently so they have some of your energy on them,” said Maestro, as he took off his suit coat.

“Now take ten cards out of the semicircle I've put them in,” he added as he fanned the cards out. “Make sure you give them to me in the order that you picked them.”

After Samuel chose his cards, he handed them to Maestro Bob, who then began to spread them out on the silk cloth.

“You see the first card goes directly on top of and across the second card.

“There's a process to interpreting Tarot cards, Samuel. Each reading is a voyage of discovery. Only you can know the true meaning of what we see before us. I am just a facilitator here to help you.”

“Okay,” said Samuel, feeling skeptical. “I'm listening.”

“The first card is the King of Wands.”

Samuel saw an impressive figure dressed in a red robe with a crown on his head. He was seated on a golden throne in a green pasture with a lit torch in his left hand.

“This usually signifies a tremendous surge of creative energy. It's kind of lurking beneath the surface of your consciousness, but it hasn't been formulated,” said Maestro Bob. “Does that ring any kind of a bell with you?”

“Don't know yet, keep going,” said Samuel, interested.

“The second card is the crossing card.”

Maestro pointed to the Tower card. It showed a powerful crowned male figure erupting from the sea with a three-pronged spear in his hand. In front of him was a tower on a small island starting to crumble.

“This is the only card that has a building on it. It represents what's stopping you from getting to your really creative urges. It could be your present job. The idea is that your employment may be stable and constant, and you don't want to jeopardize losing it,” said Maestro Bob.

Samuel whistled. The magician had hit a sensitive point. He'd never told him about wanting to become a reporter, but it seemed that the card was referring to that. Selling ads in the newspaper didn't pay much, but he'd held onto the job because it at least offered him a paycheck. “You've caught my interest, Maestro,” he sighed.

“The third card is the Knight of Pentacles. It means you go about your business in a diligent and conscientious manner. I would imagine, although I don't know you well, that you are like a dog that gets hold of a bone and won't let go. The most important message this card gives is that there is someone watching over you who will help you achieve what you are after.”

“What's next?”

“The fourth card represents the base of the matter,” continued the Maestro. “This card is the King of Pentacles. It indicates you are on a mission, or that someone will come into your life to help you develop the special talent or pursuit of higher goals you possess but has been asleep within you. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the same person who is watching over you is also pushing you closer to the limelight.”

That could only be Melba, concluded Samuel enthusiastically. Whenever he would be going around in circles, not seeing the light from any side, she would set him on the right path.

“The fifth card is the Three of Cups. This indicates past influences. This is a letting-go card. It means that whatever way you were heading in terms of career or in matters of the heart, you are letting go and are willing to start on a new path. Let's take a break here. Please order me a club soda.”

Samuel lit a cigarette and sauntered up to the bar. “Scotch over the rocks and a club soda,” he told Melba, as he caught his reflection in the mirror behind her. When she put the orders on the bar, he impulsively took her hands in his and kissed them.

“What the hell's wrong with you? Are you drunk?”

“You have no idea what the cards have just told me!” He returned quickly to the table. Maestro Bob was cleaning his fingernails with a small pocketknife. He noticed that Maestro no longer had polished fingernails. He thought the magician had really changed.

“Are you ready to begin again?” asked the Maestro, as he drank half the glass of soda in one gulp. “The sixth card is the Devil. We call it the card of forthcoming influences.”

The card was menacing. It displayed a creature that was half-human and half-animal with horns and hoofs in a dark underground setting. The grotesque figure held humans on short strings and at the same time it was blowing into a conch.

“I don't like what I see,” said Samuel.

“It has several meanings. It could mean coming in contact with shadowy and corrupt figures, literally from the underworld.”

“Am I in physical danger?” asked Samuel.

“It could mean that, so watch out. It could also mean there are conflicting forces awakening within you, such as love and sex.”

What did the magician know of his relationship with Blanche? A conflict between love and sex said the crappy card. He always thought that his attraction to Blanche was closer to love than lust, but he had to admit that it had a sexual component, especially at night when he had fantasies about her.

“What else do the Tarot cards say about this woman?” he asked anxiously.

“He who doesn't get his feet wet never crosses the river. It's a Slavic saying. In other words, you have to be more aggressive if you want to have her. Who is the woman?”

“No one for the moment. We're talking about the future in hypothetical terms, aren't we?”

“The seventh card is the Page of Cups. This is where you find yourself right now. Something new is happening in your life. It's just beginning.”

Samuel agreed. For sure, it was time for a change. It was time to get out of the basement of the newspaper, he needed another date with Blanche, and he also needed a healthier life. He smoked and drank too much, and he should stop eating those rolls and Chinese soups. In short, he should stop living like an animal.

“Tell me, Maestro, do you say the same thing to everyone?” asked Samuel, nervously.

“I say nothing. You picked the cards and the cards talk. They have their own meaning. It's what they say,” said the Maestro, “not me. This is the Four of Swords. It has to do with your hopes and fears. It shows you in a time of quiet reflection—a place where you're weighing things, deciding which way to go and in no hurry, either. It looks to me like you're building up strength.”

“You're right about that. The last card says Judgment. What does Judgment mean?” asked Samuel, looking at the golden-haired, crowned woman sitting on a throne with a sword in one hand and the scales of justice in the other. “Am I going to be involved in a lawsuit?”

“No, no, it has to do with the final outcome. It's a good card for you. That doesn't mean it's always good; it depends. But you are about to come to terms with whatever has held you back in the past. It's like you're at the end of one chapter in life and ready to start a new one.”

“What else?”

“That's it for now,” said Maestro Bob.

“You've earned your two dollars, and one more as a tip, plus another soda water,” said Samuel, putting the money on the table and ordering him another drink.

* * *

Samuel wandered back to the round table where Melba sat looking out the plate-glass window at the view of the park and, beyond it, the bay, and nursing her usual glass of beer.

“You wanted to talk to me, Melba?” he asked, sitting down alongside her. Excalibur started to get up, but Melba intercepted him by grabbing his collar.

“I have some news for you,” she said.

“Really?”

“The word on the street is that you caught Maurice Sandovich with his pants down.”