Harry and Toi – Harry 2

Harry and Toi

Harry

* * *

Blaine Boulevard was as posh as Santo Mortis got, which was pretty posh I had to say. Wider than any two other streets in town, divided in the middle by manicured grass and Spirya trees, it was lined with houses big enough to swallow a dozen lesser dwellings with room to spare. It was far enough up the hill that one could see the docks too, weather permitting of course.

I wore my most wrinkle resistant suit, my freshly dry-cleaned black trench coat and, my new formal fedora to present my evidence and collect my fee. I had even shaved.

The butler who answered the doorbell was such a cliché, I’ll won’t bother describing him.

I was ushered into the drawing room, or the sitting room; I don’t know what it was called. It had a lot of chairs and a fireplace.

Mr. and Mrs. Tightass, I mean Merkelsen, were sitting on a settee—or as it would have been called any place I frequented, a couch—facing the door. Mr. Merkelsen rose and walked over to shake my hand. “Mr. Tranker, good to see you.” His grip was a weak as his chin. “I trust you have good news for us.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘good’, Mr. Merkelsen.” And before he could open his mouth to say something insipid, “Darla is alive and well and living in Happy Town.” I pulled a folder from my valise that contained a carefully chosen and, when prudent, edited collection of photos.

Merkelsen’s face dropped as he got a look at the first couple. “Where were these taken, exactly?”

“The address is on the upper right-hand corner.”

“Ah, yes. I see it. Who is that she’s with?”

“I know he’s a member of one of the criminal gangs in the city. I have some idea as to who he is and I have some feelers out that should give me a solid ID, soon. If you’d like me to continue in your service, that is.” I had no clue who this mook was, but I did love money and I would find out if the price were right.

As we’d been speaking, Mrs. Merkelsen had walked up to us. Looking past her husband at the pictures, something evidently caught her eye, for she reached out and snatched one of the images. “It’s Blake.”

Hubby’s head swung around so fast I was surprised his neck didn’t break. “Nonsense, woman.”

“It him, Hubert. Look.” She stabbed a manicured finger at something I couldn’t see from my viewpoint.

“Oh. Damn.” Wow. Mr. Cleancut had almost used a bad word! This Blake guy must be bad news, indeed.

“Your bastard is shacked up with our daughter!” Wow and wow, again. My poker face is a legend in this town. Not even a twitch defaced it. I guessed I wouldn’t have to worry about Loverboy getting whacked; he was shtupping his own half-sister.

Both people suddenly seemed to realize I was in the room. ‘Hubert’ began, “Mr. Tranker, I—”

I held up a hand. “No need, sir. Discretion is my business. If I may ask though, what do you intend to do about this?”

“We’re getting her out of that place,” Mrs. Merkelsen. “After that I want that bastard of yours castrated.” She looked straight at hubby when she said that. Though it had not been directed at me, I still felt my balls retreat into my abdomen.

“We can discuss this later, my dear. I’m sure Mr. Tranker would like the balance owing.” Turning to me, “If I can prevail upon you to wait a moment, I’ll get my chequebook.” So saying, he left me alone with Mrs. Merkelsen.

Normally, I would have made small talk then got the hell out with my money, but this case had gotten to me. The only thing I could see Darla having done wrong was defying parental authority, which at her age carried no legal weight. I knew what would happen if these two fossils tried to wrench the lovers apart. I figured I might be able to spare everyone some grief.

It all depended on one detail. “Mrs. Merkelsen, I’m sorry to ask so personal a question, but I need confirmation of something. Does Darla know who Blake really is?”

She opened her mouth to fire her best withering remark at me but thought better of it. Instead, eyes down, “Yes.”

“I suspected as much.” I’d had no clue about any of this. “If I may, I’d like to offer some advice that could save everyone a lot of pain.” She looked up, surprising me by having something like hope in her eyes. “Don’t be too hard on Darla. I know human nature better than most. Believe me when I tell you your daughter loves this Blake, and he loves her. Love. The real thing.” I knew a lovesick woman when I saw one, and Loverboy had been much more of a gentleman than either his gang membership or the setting had called for. “I know their relation to each other makes things awkward but I’m telling you, trying to push them apart will be a disaster.”

She actually smiled at me. “I…I know. I was young, once.”

“You did something like your Darla has done.”

“Something like that, yes.”

“If it makes it any easier, I checked with the Herms and they don’t know who he is, either. That means he isn’t a criminal.”

“It wouldn’t matter if he was. His father has the influence to keep him out of official trouble.”

At that moment, Mr. Merkelsen returned, cheque in hand. “I thank you for your service, Mr. Tranker.” He shook my hand and gave me the cheque. It was the balance owing, to the penny. Oh, well. At least he hadn’t stiffed me.

The butler appeared to lead me out. As I turned to go, Mrs. Merkelsen said, “Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Tranker.”

I turned to see her smiling.

How about that. Looked like my advice was going to stick.

As I walked down the hall to the door, I heard Mr. Merkelsen, “What was that about…?” I never got to find out.

* * *

As I rode back to the office, Toi was once again on my mind. Especially the kiss we had shared at our last goodbye and the promise it sealed.

Was I as ready for that as the young lovers clearly were? Or as my daughter appeared to be? I still did not know.

—Gideon Jagged
Innsmouth, November 2026

© Gideon Jagged
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