From The Grave

Chapter 30

"Jesus, Gretta, you could have been canned."

"Then I'd have to ask my lover for a job at his agency."

"Yeah, right. I can just see you threatening to shoot our clients if they don't sign contracts. Come to think of it, there are some clients I'd like to shoot."

"There you go."

"So what about Maurice?"

"He was informed that his position was probationary, something he ignored telling his staff, and that there would be a performance review in two months. Meanwhile, yours truly received a plethora of compliments from the members for keeping CONGA's violence level to a solitary event, and a legally justified one at that."

"Plethora? My god, is that a lot, Miss Lawrence, scourge of the South pacific?"

"Hey, I didn't slam your good news at Cutter and Glimb."

"You're right. Sorry. Can I make it up somehow?" His eyebrows danced ludicrously.

Before she could answer, her cell phone rang and she flipped it open, frowning at the number.

"It's from Niue!"

"Who?"

"Niue."

"Whew."

She shot him a look and answered, her own eyebrows rising in surprise.

"How did you get this number?"

"Please, Miss Lawrence, I am a trained constable. These things are, what do you say, par for a course?"

"Close enough. What can I do for you, Constable?" Arny's face grew round in surprise and his mouth took on the same shape.

"Really. That's very interesting. Constable Phati I promise I will look into that and get back to you as soon as I have any information. It was lovely talking to you as well. Thank you. Yes. Goodbye."

"Lovely talking to you, Fatty." Arny mimed, grossly.

"Jealous, lover?"

"Give me a break." Arny sneered. "What uhm- what did he want?"

"It seems that we have another party interested in finagling the stamp away from Niue and Constable Phati was calling to let me know since we were the ones responsible for getting it returned."

"What party?"

"Not sure but the head constable, a Jobba Ulanni, has been making enquiries on the person's behalf. Phati believes his boss is one corrupt son of a bitch."

"He said that!"

"In his own way." She called up her contacts and pressed a button on the phone. "Danny, it's Gretta... yeah again." She laughed. "Listen, I need another favour... I know, I owe you big time... Jobba Ulanni, what can you tell me about him?" She looked around and found a perch on the arm of a chair as she listened. "Right. Yeah, I heard that... He could do that?"

She swung her legs over the arm and sank down into the chair cushion. "Do you think you could find out for me?" Another laugh and Arny frowned as she curled her toes and giggled. "I can do everything from here if I have the name... you're a prince, Danny... yes, I know... that would be great. Thanks. Bye."

She looked at Arny and grinned. "What?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, something's eating you."

"It's nothing. Leave it alone, okay."

"Okay." She said brightly. "Danny is going to try and get the name of the interested party. Apparently Jobba has a rep for getting involved in under the counter deals when there is a profit in it for him. Danny has come across it before and he has some sources he can tap."

"Good for Danny."

"Oh, pouty, pouty. Arnold a little jealous, is he?"

"I said, leave it, Gretta. I've got to go in to the office, I'll be home later." He grabbed his jacket and keys and left abruptly.

Gretta switched from channel to channel on the TV, not really paying attention to anything that flashed by. Her mind was occupied with Arny's behavior; something besides his usual peeves was bothering him and she wasn't sure what it was. They had been together going on eleven years—that brought her up short—she hadn't realized so much time had passed since they first met at Cutter and Glimb.

Was that it, eleven years and their relationship had stayed static, no big changes or decisions? Was Arny become jaded with things? Was she? No, she wasn't but then she had never been involved to the point where big decisions had to be made. She tossed the remote aside. But she was involved... eleven years worth. Was she complacent about it? Maybe Arny had deeper feelings, something more domestic. Yikes!

----------------------------

The door opened and he came in looking calm but serious.

"Hi, everything okay?"

"I still have a job if that's what you mean."

"Arny, what's wrong? Please spit it out, I can't take this moody pouting you do."

"Well maybe I can't take any more of you swinging on vines through the jungles of the world, dodging knives and bullets and terminating the perceived bad guys instead of devoting a little of your time to our future... if any. Christ, Gretta, you're no kid any more... and neither am I." He said in a louder voice as her face darkened.

"Arny?" Gretta sat up, her arms wet with perspiration, her throat drying rapidly. Had she really been ignoring the possibility of the seriousness of his feelings? It was Arny, for Pete's sake; he was a pal, a friend. They were partners. Eleven years...

"Being with you is all I ever wanted after Mexico. I fell in love with you then Gretta Lawrence and I've never stopped. But I can't keep doing this for ever. You know it's been ten years now and I get nothing in the way of commitment from you no matter how many times I try."

"Eleven."

"Huh? What?"

"Eleven years, Arny, and I remember every day of every one." She got up and went to him, her hands around his head and her mouth fastened to his.

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"Very impressive work, Jobba. Have it couriered to me and You can look in the account you gave me for your fee." Wayne finished the egg salad sandwich and wiped his mouth with a serviette the size of a tablecloth.

"Ahh- about my fee, Mr. Jenner. I am taking considerable risk in getting this item for you; I have expenses in the accomplishment."

"We had an agreement, Jobba."

"And we still do, Mr. Jenner. You want the stamp and I want more money."

"That's not my agreement."

"Well sir, I could offer it on the open market; there are many collectors willing to pay handsomely."

"Are you a man of the world, Jobba? I mean, are you connected globally, because I am and some of those connections make your Tomambou and his sidekick, Cecil look like Abbot and Costello. Do you understand what I'm saying? In case you don't, think about the fact that I can have people on your island within twenty four hours and in twenty five hours I can have that stamp for the paltry price of one self-important, stupid, Mickey Mouse island policeman."

Jobba instantly retreated and said he was just testing the water for a better deal. One couldn't blame him for trying, could one?

"See that it gets here pronto and consider the fifteen percent reduction in your account the price you pay for your greed and naiveté."