Scenes from a Violent Story

1.

Lenny sprinted up the narrow alley, breathing hard. The hand was in the carrying case, he was pretty sure, but he wanted to stop and make doubly sure. After several backward glances and seeing no pursuers, he stopped running. Unlatching the case, he peered inside and – yes! – Osgood's hand was there. He took off again as his thoughts veered out of control.

Why did he go to the meeting? It had nothing to do with him. Stupid, stupid decision! Osgood was the one meeting Marissa, the sexiest butcher in town, and her dull brother. Lenny had known she was trouble the first time he saw her at Greater Aldershot. He should have minded his own business.

Lungs near bursting, he reached the crest of the alley where a wide strip of overgrown grass lay between him and a busy road. He waded into the grass.

2.

Lenny Marlin had been in Small Loans for nearly ten years and seen everything there was to see in the industry. A loans applicant had to only walk through the main door, cross the floor and take a seat. By the time Lenny came over and sat behind his desk, he would have sized the applicant up. Everything that happened afterwards was either a formality (listen to their pitch, ask some questions and bring out the forms to be filled) or politeness (listen to their pitch, ask some questions and say that, regretfully, they are not eligible for a loan).

On that particular day, Marissa Tomazewski slithered into the office in an olive dress and paused long enough for a quick visual survey of the half-dozen peons in the Small Loans Department of the Greater Aldershot Bank. He had noticed that it wasn't a particularly expensive dress – the material was the giveaway – but it was the perfect one to show off her generous curves. The half dozen peons consisted of four women - all in their forties and beyond, who looked up at this embodiment of womanhood they did not relate to nor represent and went back to their respective computer screens – Osgood on the far side, bent over some papers, with his hair hanging in curls on his forehead and Lenny himself, wearing Lennon glasses, an oversized white shirt, black tie and checked trousers. He was looking at Marissa. As soon as their eyes met, she turned decisively and headed in the opposite direction. By the time she shook hands with Osgood - who produced a cat-having-suddenly-been-given-a-fresh-bowl-of-milk smile - and set her shapely rear on the chair, Lenny had read her. One word flashed in a hedge of red bulbs inside his brain. Trouble.

The conversation at Osgood's table went on for some time. But it was well out of earshot and Lenny, curiosity and impatience getting the better of him, got up and walked to the coffee machine half-way between his and Osgood's desks.

Osgood saw Lenny and called him over. There was giddiness in his voice.

"Lenny old boy, meet Miss Tomazewski! Lenny Marlin here is our most senior Loans Officer. This lovely lady is interested in securing a small loan to upgrade a butcher's shop her family recently purchased."

"Really?" Lenny began, as if he was noticing her for the first time. He had already made up his mind about this potential transaction but continued, "What do you do for a living, Miss?''

He looked into her eyes. It was invitingly green. She was beautiful no doubt, but there was also something exotic about her that was explained when she answered in an Eastern European accent welded onto less than perfect English.

"I am a butcher, Mister Marlin, like my brother. We are interested in loan for our new shop."

"I'm sure we can help in some way," Lenny said without meaning it but was unable to prevent his eyebrows arching up in surprise.

Her unique occupational choice had apparently been discussed already as a knowing smile broke on her face and Osgood chuckled.

"It's a Tomazewski family trade apparently, starting with the grandfather back in the old country. Anyway, do you happen to have that new form we are required to give applicants? What's it called? The R2-D2 something was it? I've given all of mine away."