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“That’s the weirdest thing,” said Marge. “They did, but the IP address simply reveals that it was sent from your home computer. Which led them to suggest that either a member of your staff is behind this, or that these are some highly skilled criminals, who’ve managed to hack your networkand mask their own IP address by rerouting all of their communications through yours.” She shrugged. “I’m just repeating what Odelia and Chase told me. I’m not a computer expert, and it all sounds pretty out there for me.”

“No, I understand what you’re saying. Perfectly. It just tells me these are some very clever crooks, and it’s going to prove extremely hard to nail them.” He held up his glass. “But I have faith in your daughter’s detecting skills, Marge. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked her to look into this for me—effectively placing my life in her hands.”

“I hope she won’t disappoint you,” said Marge, though she was starting to feel that time was running out for the poor fitness star. She raised her glass and clinked it against his, then both took a sip.

“So tell me,” he said, “how did you and Tex meet?”

And just like that, he’d turned the tables on her, and was steering the conversation back to her private life, and away from his.

Chapter 36

Jerry Vale surveyed his domain and saw that everything was as it should be. Thousands of little turtles were swimming in very large tanks containing enough water to fill a semi-large pond. Never in his life had he thought he’d become the custodian of a turtle farm, but there he was, at the heart of just such an endeavor.

Johnny Carew, his slightly bone-headed associate, came stomping down the basement stairs. The thickset no-neck crook announced,“I closed the shop, Jer. The last customer was a little girl looking to buy a goldfish for her brother. I said goldfishes shouldn’t be kept in tanks but swim in the ocean, and she agreed and I sold her a gerbil instead.”

“You shouldn’t argue with the customers,” Jerry grunted. With his ferrety features and his slim build he looked exactly the opposite of his partner in crime, but then he had always been the brains of the partnership, whereas Johnny was the dumb brawn. “If a customer wants a goldfish you sell them a goldfish. The customer is always right.”

“Someone asked me if we sell crocodiles yesterday,” said Johnny as he stood there, the tips of his fingers practically grazing the concrete floor. “Should I have sold him a crocodile, Jerry? Because last time I checked we don’t sell no crocodiles.”

“You can only sell them what we’ve got,” said Jerry. “So if some idiot wants to buy a crocodile you tell them to take a hike.”

“Oh, okay, Jer,” said Johnny, nodding as he took this in. “Take a hike. I can do that.” He glanced around at the five large tanks filled with turtles. “So how are our little babies?”

“They’re not our babies, idiot. Don’t get attached to them. They’ll be out of here soon, and I don’t want you blubbering all over me, crying about how they took our babies.”

“But I like them, Jer. They’re so sweet, don’t you think? With their little feet and their little heads and their little eyes.” He smiled a goofy smile as he spoke these words.

This was exactly what Jerry was afraid would happen. That the big lug would get all emotional about this new business of theirs. The same thing had happened when they worked for Chazz Falcone, that well-known New York real estate tycoon. When Chazz told them to put the squeeze on some of the tenants of a building he wanted razed to the ground, Johnny, instead of using his bulk to put the fear of God into them, had wept big tears when they told them their sob stories of woe and misfortune. The guy might look like a grizzly, but unfortunately had a heart of gold and a brain the size of a peanut.

“Look, these aren’t our turtles, Johnny,” he said. “Just get that through that thick skull of yours, will you? We’re just the help, hired to do a job. As soon as the job’s done, we’re out of here.”

“But what will happen to the turtles, Jer? They’re not going to hurt them, are they?”

“Who cares?”

“I do, Jer. Will you just look at them. So cute.” He’d picked up one of the turtles who’d apparently escaped its tank and tickled it behind its head as it crawled around on his ham-sized hand.

“Will you put that thing back,” growled Jerry.

“It’s not a thing, Jer. It’s a living, breathing creature. A miracle of nature.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said Jerry, and headed for the stairs. “Just put it back before it escapes,” he said. “And clean up in here, will you? It stinks!”

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