Ambient 06 - Going, Going, Gone

Pierce-Arrow’s roof; up go the arms; Ka-chow! sneezes the roscoe. Before the Trickster feels that warm Gulf breeze where the top of his head used to be he finds himself heading way down south, getting the purple-ass treatment from Satan’s snickering imps, and bellyaching about how much better Ike’s probably got it. Topside, nobody’s surprised, not really. Nobody except Oswald that is to say, once he finds out he’s not going to be working on his tan in Fiji after his work is done, after all.
    »All right, I’ll go along,« I said. »So fill me in. What is it you want me to do?«
    Hamilton leaned forward – conspiratorily, you could say. »It’s really very simple,« he said. »We’d like you to make friends with someone.«
    »Who?«
    »You’ll be ingratiating yourself with one of Bobby’s brothers.«
    Thought I’d dreamed what he said at first, and so ignored them. »What’s the punchline?« Their icicles suddenly felt mighty sharp when they started to land. »Are you trying to tell me one of them’s going to let me get in earshot?«
    »Of course.« Hamilton was so calm he almost looked beatific. Thinking quickly I ran through the possible players. It wouldn’t be Joe Jr. loser of the ’60 election and Paramount Pictures head honcho; not John, Washington Star kingpin and Commie scourge; not Father Ted, up there on the Cardinal’s throne in Beanville. Obviously not Bobby. That left –
    »Bah, bah, black sheep,« said Hamilton.
    Hmf hmf hmf.
    »James,« said Martin. »James Kennedy.«
    I didn’t remember ever seeing a picture of him when he wasn’t in diapers. »What’s his game?«
    »He has none,« Martin said. »Not long before he died, the old man disowned him. Then a year and a half ago mom forgave and forgot.«
    »Forgave and forgot what?«
    Martin shook his head. »There was an incident of some sort.« He looked over at his accomplices; Hamilton didn’t shake his head, but he might as well have. »It’s not important. Not anymore.«
    »Even so, the Cardinal preferred that his brother left Massachusetts,« Hamilton said. »Joe Jr. didn’t want him in California. Jack didn’t want him in Washington. At Bobby’s urging, they sent him to New York, where any leopard can change his spots.« Hmf hmf hmf. »A year and a half ago they bought him a store, here in Manhattan.«
    »Record store,« said Martin. »Old records.«
    »Specializing in 78s. Martin tells me you’re an aficionado of music of the old days, Walter. That’s what led us to believe you’d be perfect, that you’d have something in common. You and I may even share some favourite songs. Russ Columbo?« I winced at the thought of listening to any of those proto-crooners. »It’s a gritty little warren on West 82 nd , near Columbus, next to a chinee laundromat. Any chance you know the place?«
    Knew it well; best shop in town, even before he took over. Always struck me there was something familiar about the new guy but managed never to place it. » That’s James Kennedy?« Hamilton nodded. »Pretty tightlipped cat but when it comes to wax he can talk your ears off.«
    »Then talk to him about records. Talk to him about anything. Get to know him better. Do you know him already?« I shook my head. »Let him get to know you. That’s all we want.«
    I wasn’t enough of a sob sister to fall for that line, but they were at least using the right kind of lure. »Make with the gladhand and the bakery is back in business?«
    In Bennett’s absence Hamilton allowed Frye to light his cigar. »Exactly. You’ll receive a stipend of five hundred dollars a week, plus expenses –«
    » Bitte, but what are these records?« Sartorius asked, his iron needle carving a ravine across Mammy’s bouncy tune. »Classical music?«
    »Degenerate music,« I said.
    »Pardon me?«
    »Blues. Jazz. Spirituals. Music of African origins.« Sartorius frowned, but under the circumstances he didn’t start slinging the braunsweiger. »So all I do is be Jimbo’s friend? Where does the flash, bang come in?«
    Hamilton shook his head, but Martin wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. »There won’t be any of that, Walter.«
    »Still like to know how the play ends before I get too far into the first act.«
    »Walter, we’ll be operating under standard procedure,« Martin said. »You’ll receive no more information than necessary at any given point. You know that’s the only way we can work –«
    »What will you get out of this?« I asked Hamilton.
    »The