Chapter 4: Conrad's Business Meeting

Conrad Gentner double-parked his 1982 burgundy Cadillac in front of the Spanish Grocery, and waited with taillights flashing amid slow traffic that would build in volume within the next ten minutes when the factory down the block let its workers go for the day.

He reminded himself to be tactful when Harrigan showed up. Tact was not necessarily Gentner's long suit and he knew it. He was known to be more flamboyant than anything else; although anyone who had had anything to do with the way Conrad earned his keep knew how dangerous he was, if provoked.

He was wearing neatly creased blue jeans, steel-gray ostrich boots and a head of hair that many rock stars would envy. Some women tended to adore him, whether he had money on him or not. At the moment he had approximately $700,000 in his possession, although not on his person. He was meeting Harrigan to determine what he should do with the money. Harrigan was a money man, that is, he had a knack for handling large sums of money without the IRS, or anyone else for that matter, being the wiser about it.

He was also rather clever about transacting business with people like Conrad, and he approached the Cadillac without being spotted by Gentner or anyone else and tapped on the window opposite the driver. Conrad jerked in his seat, surprised at being caught off-guard. Harrigan motioned for Gentner to open the door and he did so. Harrigan got in and sat next to Gentner.

"Drive around the block."

Conrad started the Cadillac, and slowly went around the block.

"Head for the park: its two blocks east," Harrigan said.

When the Cadillac wove its way into the park, Harrigan told him to park in an area used for a children's playground.

"Let's get out and walk around," Harrigan said, and opened his door. Conrad had no choice but to follow. They took a path not used by the walkers and joggers, walked a short distance and came to a small bench. They sat down, and Harrigan began, "So, tell me your story."

"I got some money..." Conrad said, "And I'm not quite sure just what to do with it."

"You wouldn't have called me otherwise," Harrigan said, lighting a Marlboro.

"I'm in a bind. I mean ... Do I invest it long term, short term, or what?"

"Don't push, Gentner. You're going to come out of this smelling like a rose."

Conrad burped on cue. "That'd be better than I smell now."

Harrigan walked Conrad through the various ways in which he could safely invest his money, and how much he would derive from each method. They were almost all designed to keep him from ever declaring the money, except for certain investments, for which to be prudent he would have to declare at least some, if not all of the interest.

"I thought I didn't have to declare a dime," Conrad said.

"Sometimes declaring something is best," Harrigan said, flipping the cigarette into the bushes across from where they sat.

"I'm a greedy bastard," Conrad said, and waited.

"Well..." Harrigan said, and paused. "If you gotta have the whole enchilada and more..."

Obviously interested in this tack, Conrad said, "Yeah?"

"Heroin, cocaine ... other pharmaceuticals, they all pay very well."

"How well?"

"Done properly, maybe 5000, or 10,000 percent."

"Now you're talking," Conrad said.

"Ah, but the risk also increases ... almost by the same percentage."

"There's gotta be a relatively safe way," Conrad declared and then waited.

After a moment or two Harrigan offered, "One can invest in another's business. But as I said, there is a high risk."

"What is it?" Conrad asked. He thought he knew, but was paying for the information, so he waited patiently for Harrigan to complete the picture.

"One, they can take your money and run. Two, they take the money and kill you. Three, they take the money and actually set out to complete the deal, but maybe something goes wrong, as in someone informs on the deal, and the Feds make a bust. Or, a rival learns of the deal and intercedes, possibly -- no, make that probably -- killing those involved on the other side. Four, the deal goes smoothly, they give you your share which would be a tidy profit. And they'd tell you when they'll want to borrow some dough from you again."

"I like the last scenario," Conrad told him, as a young teenaged girl and her boyfriend walked past them wrapped in their own little world, not even glancing at them.

Harrigan lit another cigarette. "I know, but you gotta consider the other possibilities."

"Yeah, I know. So, what do I do?"

"You have my money?"

"Yeah," Conrad said, and took an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Harrigan.

Harrigan counted the money and snorted in satisfaction. "You want the drug deal, don't you?"

"I guess," Conrad replied laconically.

"Gimme a number I can reach you at tonight."

"I don't discuss things like that over the phone."

"I know that. We'll set a meeting up."

"There's a movie theater ... you know, the Stanley, in Journal Square..."

That's good. When you call, just give me the time."

"Okay, but let's meet in one of the back rows of the orchestra."

"Fine, if it's crowded, we can move elsewhere without raising any undue suspicion."

"Undue suspicion ... I like that," Conrad nodded as they stood up, then went off in separate directions

Conrad arranged for Gloria to come over and service him. He had persuaded her it was in her best interests to pay him a visit once a week, usually on Wednesdays, when they would get down to basics. That generally meant a blowjob and a quick fuck, followed by his handing her a check for the weeks rent and a little something for her to buy something for herself.

Gloria was used to it, and accepted it as her role in life. She didn't consider herself a whore, although Conrad referred to her as one at least once each time they met.

But she entered a depressed state, which worsened with time.

The meeting went well. Conrad was given a number to call, and did.

With practically no guarantees in hand, Conrad put up $500,000 for a drug dealer to make a huge buy of heroin. To Conrad's relief, the entire transaction went smoothly, and his $500,000 ballooned to $1,300,000.

He was off and running in his new business. But for some reason known only to Conrad, he did not bother with that group again, but set his sights on persons unknown in Florida, who had even greater access to the drug trade.

Joe Meets Bernie

"What have you got planned? You're not going all the way, are you?" Bernie asked, her voice filled with excitement.

They had spent most of the day cleaning and straightening their apartment.

"Naw, but we are going to get a little frisky," Val lied. "When I do, it's going to be someone very special. And that special person doesn't even know he's the one yet."

"Who is it?"

"I can't tell you, but I promise you'll know before he does. How does that sound?"

"God, Val! You are acting really strange."

"I know. Now help me find something to wear."

They picked out a very short skirt and a pullover short sleeve knit top.

"Can I take your clothes off for you?" Bernie asked with excitement in her voice.

"Sure," Val said, holding her arms in the air to her indicate that Bernie should pull the shirt over her head. Bernie pulled the top up and over her head, leaving her in her lacy bra. Before Val might object, Bernie reached to the point between her breasts and opened the snap of her bra. Val smiled and shrugged the straps off her shoulders, letting the bra fall to the floor. Bernie stood staring at Val's firm, white breasts and their large, puffy nipples. Unable to contain herself, she brought her lips to one of her roommate's nipples.

Both girls moaned as Bernie began sucking the hardening nipple like a baby trying to get milk. She pulled it into her mouth, then brought her hand up to lift the other tit. Bernie could feel her rapidly pulsing pussy beginning to drip into her panties.

After a few seconds, Val pushed her away and said, "If you keep that up I'll never get dressed. My panties are already getting wet. Now take my shorts and panties off for me."

Bernie feigned a pout, but quickly reached down to pull Val's shorts down, leaving her in a pair of pink panties. Bernie went to her knees to pull the panties down and off. The crotch momentarily caught between Val's wet lips before pulling free. Bernie was now only inches from her Val's pussy. She could already see a drop of clear juice forming on the inner lips. With a soft moan, she brought her head forward, and sticking her tongue out, licked the drop off.

"Oh, good lord, Bernie, you are driving me crazy. I really need to get dressed; Joe will be here in a few minutes. Now get my skirt and top."

Bernie got her top and helped Val pull it over her head. She was surprised when Val did not put on a bra. She was even more surprised when Val put on her short skirt without any panties.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Bernie said looking at Val with amazement.

"Let me worry about that. Now I have something special to put on."

Val went to the back of her closet, and brought out a pair of thigh- high nylons. She sat on the bed and gave them to Bernie, indicating that she should put them on her. Bernie knelt and slowly took each stocking in turn and rolled them up her thighs. When they were both in place, Val sat back on her hands, opened her legs, exposing her pussy in invitation to her kneeling roommate.

Bernie did not have to be told twice. Her face dove forward and her lips immediately began to suck. She heard her Val moan as she fell back on the bed. Bernie had just begun to tease Val's clit when she felt Val shudder. She tried to hide her disappointment when Val pushed her away.

"God, Bernie, I'm sorry. I ... we don't have time. He's due any second. Can we finish this later?"

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Can you get that for me, Bernie? Just show him into the living room."

Bernie hurried downstairs as the doorbell rang again. When she opened the door, she saw Joe and shivered. Bernie liked him immediately; thought he was a hunk, unlike some of Val's other so-called boyfriends.

Joe was tall, almost six feet. He had played high-school football and baseball. His rosy cheeks gave him the appearance of the All-American boy. And Bernie already knew he loved to eat pussy. She envied Val all the more.

With a broad smile, Joe said, "Hey, sexy! You must be Bernie. Damn, but you look great tonight."

Bernie smiled in spite of the fact that she knew he was full of it.

"Come on in, lover boy. Val will be down in a minute," Bernie said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room.

"So Joe, what are you going to do after graduating?" Bernie asked.

"I intend to follow my father into banking."

"Banking?" Bernie said making it sound dull, almost morbid.

Joe smiled, but took the bait and said, "Yes, banking. Do you know that the top 1 percent of Americans own 31 percent of the nation's wealth? And within a few years the top 1 percent will own more than 40 percent of the wealth, that's twice the percentage it owned in the mid-1970s and close to what it owned before 1929."

"So..."

"So, Bernie my dear, that 1 percent is comprised of a huge group of bankers, among others, and I intend to be one of them."

He was still talking to Bernie when Val walked in. He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw her. He was once again reminded of her stunning beauty, wanted to express it to her, but couldn't.

Finally he found the courage to blurt, "God, Val, you look gorgeous."

"Thank you, kind sir," she replied, almost giddy that he found her attractive.

"But, Val, I thought we were going to stay home tonight?"

"We are, Joe. Can't a girl get dressed up for her boyfriend if she wants too?"

He shuffled about in his chair, searching for the right response, decided on, "Absolutely!"

"Bernie," Val said sweetly. "Would you be kind enough to get Joe a Coke?"

Val was about to sit on Joe's lap when Bernie asked, "Would you like one too?"

But Val was already kissing him. Bernie turned on her heel, went to the refrigerator, grabbed three Cokes and brought them back into the living room.

The two were still kissing. Bernie cleared her throat to indicate that she had returned. When they did not stop kissing, she walked over and put the sodas on the coffee table. She stood there watching in wide-eyed amazement as they made out as if she wasn't even there. Bernie's breath caught in her throat when she noticed that Joe already had a tent in his pants. When she saw Joe place his hand on Val's thigh, she stumbled to the closest chair, sat down, never even taking her eyes off them.