86'd: A Novel - By Dan Fante Page 0,59

mutant. One of the thousands of drifting if-come asshole wannabes who had attached his heart and mind to a fraud and squandered his life for the rancid, empty wet crotch of hope.

Jimmy’s voice had been right all along. I amounted to shit. I was shit. I was simply a washout. A juicehead. A drunk. A talentless, empty fool. The son of a drunk, the grandson of a drunk, and the brother of a dead drunk.

But I’d become sure about one thing. The events of the last few weeks had made me certain: I had to get out of the limo business. It was madness. It was making me drink. I’d be better off in a phone room, flogging pens or copier supplies, than caretaking and servicing a clientele of self-indulged celebrity brats. I no longer had the stomach for it.

twenty-six

It was one-forty-five in the afternoon several days later. Attorney Busnazian was waiting alone outside the West L.A. Courthouse, dressed in his double-breasted black suit and pink tie, a coordinating hankie stuffed in his breast pocket, carrying his Gucci briefcase. He chuckled when he saw me walking toward him. “Right on time, Bruno. Good. Excellent.”

It felt like a drug deal, except not. I handed him a white, sealed envelope. It contained the additional thousand dollars (twenty fifty dollar bills) we had agreed upon over the phone. “There you go,” I said. “As promised.”

Without counting the money he stuffed the envelope into his inside coat pocket. “Cheer up,” he said, grinning. “I’ve got news. Good news, actually.”

“A total of three grand’s worth of good news, I hope.”

“Your hearing is scheduled for two o’clock. They moved us up in the calendar. The drunk driving charge against you will be dismissed.”

“Wait! No kidding? Dismissed?”

Still the leer. “You were motionless in the car when the officer arrested you, correct?”

“That’s right. At the beach. I was asleep.”

“The vehicle’s motor was not running. Correct?”

“Correct,” I said.

“Well, it’s generally a useless technicality, but sometimes, depending on the presiding hearing officer, it works. To be guilty of a DUI the law states that you must be operating the vehicle.”

“C’mon!” I said. “That’s it?”

“You weren’t driving. Ipso facto the DUI will be quashed.”

“That’s amazing. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ll recall that I mentioned to you that it pays to have friends in tall glass buildings. This was strictly a quid pro quo situation. A favor. Any other time you’d be convicted. Your appearance today in court is perfunctory.”

Busnazian extended his hand and I shook it. “Thanks,” I said. “Good job. You earned your money. So—let’s go in and get this deal over with.”

“In a minute. First, there’s the Dav-Ko matter of your driver, Martin Humphrey.”

“Right,” I said. “The lawsuit. Jennifer Lopiss. The assault thing. That stuff. Marty’s still on the payroll. He’s a good employee. Marty’s not going anywhere. I gave him my word.”

“I’m gratified to report to you that the entire situation has also been resolved. Just this morning, actually.”

“What about the pending charges?”

Busnazian was smirking. “Let me say it this way: Sometimes unreasonable people become reasonable. When their unreasonableness is documented and presented in a persuasive manner by their own attorney, they return to a more rational mode of thought. But candidly, I wouldn’t expect any more business from that particular celebrity management firm.

“Hey, no problem. I don’t need that kind of business. As a matter of fact, fuck those guys. I mean, who needs the headaches?”

“That’s very cavalier. But, as we both know, it is your livelihood.”

“Yeah, it is. Unfortunately.”

“Anyway, a good day, all in all,” Busnazian smiled. “Now, shall we go in?”

“Hey, you’re three for three, counselor,” I said, “including the Robert Roller arrest. My partner was scared to death about that lawsuit.”

“I pride myself in my ability to earn my fee. You fellows are getting what you paid for. My job is to smooth out the bumps in the road for those glitzy cars of yours. So far we’ve been extremely fortunate.”

“How about this; your next limo ride is on us. Our treat.”

“I’m going to Boston on Monday. I’ll take you up on it.”

“Done. Call the office and book the car.”

Attorney Busnazian now modulated his voice for maximum dramatic effect. “One last caution: In your case you may not be so lucky next time. I’d be mindful of that.”

“I hear you.”

“No more drinking and driving.”

“I know. Look, there’s something else. Can you and I talk confidentially? I need your advice.”

Now my lawyer put on his best, most serious barrister expression. “I’m your legal representative.