The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,40

parents used to feel about Helen?”

Walter said, “They worried at first that she might be a gold-digger, being from the ‘wrong side’ of the tracks, from the ‘hood’ where you and I lived. But in time they came to respect and adore her; she became the daughter they never had.”

“So, Franklin was an only child?”

“No,” said Walter. “He has a brother, but he’s worthless. Educated but trained for nothing, he can’t hold a job, drinks too much, gambles whenever he does have money, married three times, now living with some woman at her place…”

“Sounds as though you admire him, Walter!” I joked.

“He’s a real freedom lover,” admitted Walter, “but hasn’t shown much inclination towards responsibility. He has kids with all of his ex-wives; maybe they’re the reason he went through with the marriages.”

“Great. A planetary repopulator. Well, the world needs more kids, I guess.”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna take care of them?” wondered Walter. “He sure isn’t.”

“Maybe their rich uncle will,” I said, “once he gets his hands on the chocolate loot.”

We snorted and chuckled a bit, then wondered. Who’s going to take care of Helen and her kids?

I had a thought. “Walter, I need you to focus only on Franklin now. I want you to watch him the next few weeks, and get to know his schedule and habits and priorities. I want to know how he eats and drinks. I want to know how he communicates with Susan Lovely. I want to know how he communicates with his family.”

“Boy, you’re not asking for much here, are you?” said Walter. “He works at a clinic and runs to the hospital and then out to see special patients; I’ll be on the move all day!” He waited for a moment before throwing in “…and maybe all night, heh-heh!”

We both laughed at that. Poor jokes are good in serious times.

New Session

“I think it’s time you tell me more about this old flame,” said Miss Planter. “Obviously this female has made a mark on your life. I’d like to know all about her.”

“Oh,” I said, “Miss Planter, you’re looking for a long and difficult explanation.” She said nothing, so I asked, “Are you up for this?”

“That’s why you pay me, Mr. Owen.” I laughed at this. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” she remarked.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing because I’m under a bit of pressure. I’ll do my best to be objective and fair. Here goes: Like I had said before, it was many years ago, while we were at college. I was an upperclassman, an engineering student, and the underclassmen were in awe. I enjoyed that; it was flattering. They looked up to us! That was quite an ego-builder. We didn’t stop to think that wouldn’t last.”

Miss Planter smiled, but there was a bit of a smirk in that smile.

“We, and I, had our pick of dates. At college, I was in my last year, and I knew I’d be graduating in eight or nine months, so I guess I was feeling confident and maybe a bit arrogant and cocky. I had my choice, but there was really only one girl I wanted. Helen Ceraldi, a girl I had known since high school. She had followed me to college, well, not really followed; she came to the same school I attended. Because she was so bright, she’d managed to test out of a year’s worth of college credits, and had entered as a sophomore. She was three years younger than me, and so since we were already well acquainted, we struck up a college romance.”

Miss Planter nodded; she wasn’t taking any notes. I guess I had her attention.

“She was beautiful,” I continued. “She was smart, popular, and somewhat well-balanced, more than the average college girl. She came from an Italian-American household. The first language in their home was Italian, but all the children in that home spoke both Italian and English fluently.”

Miss Planter began to write on her notepad. She didn’t interrupt.

“I thought we made a good couple. We dated, and I wound up paying for all the dates since I had a part-time job in the engineering building, being a student janitor and sometimes teacher’s aide there. I swept classroom floors, mopped, emptied trash cans, and cleaned restrooms at night. This allowed me to keep my car filled with gasoline and to pay for dates. Anyway, things were going along smoothly with Helen and me, I thought. I became stuck on her, or I