The California Roll - By John Vorhaus Page 0,9

Spanish Prisoner? You think anyone did? It was probably around for centuries before it first popped up in print in 1910. Hell, I’ve run the game a dozen times myself, usually where I’m the title character, live and in person, on the lam from the law and desperate for you to take this here $20,000 certified check, in exchange, if you will, for just a little getaway green.

Saying you can’t jack another snuke’s yak is like saying a writer can’t use Boy Meets Girl because Shakespeare (that old thief) got there first.

Not that there wasn’t room for improvement. Something like … oh, I don’t know … a cover letter from a phantom CPA validating the dodge and urging you to lock up your deductions by year’s end. Nothing like a little “time is of the essence” urgency to light a fire under a mark. But even as I game-planned the gag, I knew I’d never take it out for a spin. And why? The same mental splinter as last night. For some reason, the idea just didn’t appeal. I told myself it had nothing to do with ripping off folks during the Santa season, but I think it probably did, a little. Every now and then my conscience pops up out of its burrow like a meerkat on the scout, and this was one of those times. So I mentally set it aside and went back to browsing my mail.

I came across this, from one [email protected]: “Hey, bourbon guy. What time is vespers? What do Adam Ant and Charles Bronson have in common? Put them all together, they spell Java Man closest 2 u. Bring shoe. Love, Cinderfuckingella.”

Huh.

Interesting.

Well, bourbon guy was obviously me, the smartass who wanted Fighting Cock, the sour mash pride of Bardstown, Kentucky. Cinderfuckingrella was equally obviously Allie, if you’re willing to grant a come-fuck-me pump as analogous to a glass slipper, which I was. Vespers is Catholic evening prayers, so that’d be basically sunset. And the link between Ant and Bronson? Turns out they share the same birthday, November 3. Right around the corner, and why was I not surprised?

I wondered how Allie could be sure that she’d e-mailed the right address, but then I realized it was probably a blanket blast, with nothing in the text to aught but puzzle a wrong recipient. Weirdass spam, they’d think as they junk-drawered it. The only one it would mean something to was me.

But… “Java Man closest 2 u”? How did she know which Java Man was closest to me? (The one I could hit with a rock from here.) Had I mentioned it in passing? I replayed our conversation from the night before. One thing I’m good at is remembering what I’ve said, a somewhat indispensable skill to a professional who must keep the leashes of his lies untangled. Had I told Allie I lived in Silver Lake? No, I was sure not. Besides, what would that tell her? Java Mans abound here, six alone within the radius of the next dead cat. No, she had to know exactly where I lived. And she had to not mind that I knew she knew.

This disturbed me. I’m used to looking over other people’s shoulders, gathering the data that makes me look so casually magic on the job. I don’t like it the other way around. With the enemies you make in this game, you don’t want them knowing where you live.

Sometimes their poison-pen letters explode.

So I keep my tracks well covered; someone who could uncover them was a bit of a concern just on general principle.

And then telling me she’s doing it. That was just brazen. Brazen enough, of course, to set my alarm clock for Tuesday, which is what she wanted, no doubt. But I’d be busy till then. When I met Cinderfuckingella again, I’d know a thing or two about her, too.

For starters, I did a web search, using the same ham-fisted Google tool she’d probably used. I hate Google. It returns such vague and random results. Allie H. Quinn lives in Rosedale, Manitoba, and plays province-level field hockey. Alyson (“call me Allie!”) Quinn has 346 friends on her MySpace page. There are 19,734 people in the United States with the first name of Allie. As for my particular Allie: nothing at first blush. So I dug a little deeper.

The grift in the modern age ably employs the internet as another trick up its voluminous and fluttery sleeve. Especially useful are certain backdoor database search engines

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024