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Basic Rule: Never make it apparent you’re staking out your perp.

            Time seemed to pass by in such a manner that I didn’t realize it was moving at all until the tell tale red beams of a sunset began to filter through the musty windshield. I stared blankly through the window at the 7-11 store front, not exactly registering what I was seeing. In the center of my view stood the entrance to the store, a sign advertising that the door was open hung to the glass door for all it was worth. A flickering neon cup of java stood behind a slightly reflective window, throwing an odd pink light onto the ground. A rustling of a newspaper startled me out of my blank mood, I turned to look at the immense man seated beside me, he pretended to scan the newspaper, but I knew he really wasn’t reading a thing in there, he didn’t rely on the press, he’d rather rely on his “sources”.

            As I watched him falsely scan the newspaper, I noticed movement in my peripheral vision, but pretended not to notice, instead choosing the make small talk with the large man next to me.

“I really wish you hadn’t chosen a car without tinted windows.” I said, smiling as to look cheerfully normal.

            He guffawed, pretending to have heard the greatest pun of all time, slapping his knee. At the same time, I watched from the corner of my eyes as the person who had just left the store eyed my brother in surprise. He looked away after looking my brother over and began to open the door to a sleek black BMW.

“Our perp really has a nice ride.” I commented absent mindedly.

“Should we get ‘im?” I asked with a sorta smile that seemed to hint I had made yet another pun. I looked at the rearview mirror, watching the leather jacket guy get into his m6 coupe.

            He chuckled again, shaking his head as though I’d made a corny joke.

No his shaking told me.

            The m6 made a deep throaty rumble, backed out of it’s parking spot slowly, and drove away into the depths of the metropolis of Downtown Manhattan.

            “Got the tag?”

            “Yep, MBJ-6606” Writing it down on a pad as I said so, as I finished scribbling the last 6, I jotted down the color, model, and make.

            MBJ-6606       BLACK     M6 Coupe , BMW.

“Then let’s go.” My brother said, attempting to stifle a yawn.

“Alright-”

I felt a feeling of urgency in my lower body. Oops, I’d been holding in my piss without even realizing it while watching the guy.

“Uhhh, bro, I gotta take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

            A groan chased me as I began to open the door, hearing an odd twinkling sound that chased me as I leapt out of the car with an odd nimbleness and made a bee line dash through the glass door, past the aisles of food and into a bathroom meant for employees.

As I gingerly entered the Corolla XRS, I heard a gentle snoring emanating from the front passenger seat. I chuckled as I saw my brother half slumped, with his mouth wide open. I smiled to myself at how easily my brother could fall asleep. Wonderful warm memories filled me, and I just sat there in thought, thinking what nice lives we lived together, me and my brother, just me and my brother.

            I laughed again as I put the key in the ignition. I turned it and listened as the engine turned to life, not very loud, but not quiet, a dignified dog. I patted the dashboard, and drove away into the night towards the rental shop. I drove all the way up to W115^th street and began flooring the accelerator for no reason other than wanting to see how fast the car could go. Luckily, the streets weren’t filled at all, rather they were oddly empty.

The needle never crept beyond 140, although I think it could’ve, as I had to drift around a slow moving Camry, a window tried to open, but opened far too late, as by the time enough space was available for a mouth to poke through, I was too far gone, I slowed down and turned the corner to arrive on the intersection of Manhattan Ave. and W115th St. I drove into the rental space. I awoke my brother.

            “Huhh.. What..” He muttered, sucking up drool with his eyes half closed, then he was awake, stretching. I winced as I heard multiple vertebrae in his back cracking. He then proceeded to step out of the car, standing normally now, completely awake. I walked into the rental building, paid the man, and left with James, sort of following him really.

He walked with long strides, hands in his pocket, staring ahead blankly. Our breaths left vapor trails in the air, and I shivered a tiny bit, it was immensely cold, had actually dropped below zero I’d heard.  My brother began to whistle “What a wonderful world”, sometimes even vibrating a bit with his lips, sounding like a trumpet, or went deep and somehow throaty with it, sounding like Armstrong going deep and low. I laughed a tiny bit, and he stopped to smile.

            As we crossed the street to 114^th, we decided to enter a café. It was a small, cute café, with light colored colors covering the walls and nonsensical modern paintings, smooth jazz played in the background, and fashionable yet uncomfortable chairs paired with fashionable round tables could be seen scattered around. A warm smell of coffee and cinnamon greeted us as we entered, a bell jingled. Greetings were exchanged with the teenager behind the counter, who eyed us a bit more than normal, was it just me, or was she pushing out her chest a bit? Never mind, hot chocolate with whipped cream on hand, never did like Coffee at all, only Frappuccinos. I watched as the creamy contents of my insulated paper cup began to disappear, to be left only with wet dots of residue hot chocolate powder. As soon as my brother finally drained his cup, we exited the shop to the tinkling of the bells again. After being in a shop with warmth and warm drinks, I felt a burning fire in my stomach, keeping me from cold, and the cold didn’t bother me much at all.

            We arrived at the bus stop just as the bus arrived, and took it all the way to the Plaza hotel. I can’t even remember the Lobby of the hotel, all I remember is collapsing under the covers after looking at the time, 3:54 A.M.

            I woke up with the blazing morning sun in my eyes, casting lovely shadows on the stylish expensive furniture and paintings. I stretched every so which way, relishing the lovely cracking of what seemed like every bone in my body. I yawned lazily, letting it echo and go high and low. I shook my head in an attempt to fully awaken myself, tasting my breath as I did so, uh, did my breath always taste that bad?

            I sat awake in my bed for quite a while, mustering up the strength to finally escape the lovely warmth of the hotel bed and trudge into the cold tiled bathroom of the suite. It was at around this time that I finally looked at the clock. My eyes widened at what they saw and I was instantly out of bed, it was 12 noon.

            I shut the water off quickly, feeling the last droplets of water falling upon me like the last driblets of a rainstorm when it’s almost gone. I swept the curtains aside in a frenzy, almost slipping in bits of water as I jumped out of the shower. I dried myself off quickly with the hotel towel and snagged a toothbrush from the glass cup, ripping off the plastic covering quickly. I then took a tube of toothpaste from the same cup and began to brush my teeth with vigor. I stood in front of the foggy mirror, wiped it with my free hand and watched a hand in a parallel universe scrub a pair of already admirably white teeth, the mirror fogged up again and I spat toothpaste bubbles into the sink, rinsing my mouth out quickly. I dropped the brush in the cup and dashed out of the bathroom, nearly slipping again on a puddle of water.

            Fortunately, in the Plaza, all of the rooms were heated to optimal temperature, so it was actually quite warm as I approached the closet I’d designated as my own, I dressed quickly, picking out casual clothing as I did so; Tight, dark jeans, a white dress shirt and a black blazer. I slipped everything off the table beside my bed off the counter and into my pocket, grabbed the card key off another table holding a lamp along with the keys to the Audi.

            I dashed out of the room, letting the door close lowly behind me. Lush carpentry and fashionable walls sped past me as I dashed down the hall way, then I stopped, looked down, and realized I had forgotten something important, my shoes and my socks. I took a step forward with my left, pivoting and gaining momentum with it. How could I have forgotten something so simple? I laughed at myself and slid the card key out of my pocket as I approached the door, I slipped the card key in smoothly and opened the door without stopping, I entered, slipped on blank white socks and a pair of low top red converse.

            I dashed out of the room again, letting the door close behind me. Lush carpentry and fashionable wallpaper flashed by me again.

            In my past experience, the stairs had always been much faster than an elevator could be, so I ran to the nearest stairs, and ran down them quickly.

            As I opened the doors to the Lobby floor, I walked out slowly, not out of breath at all. I walked slowly towards the eating quarters of the Lobby, looking around carefully.

I slowly recited it to myself: “Like the spice without the Virgin.”

            Rosemary I thought quickly.

Rosemary? Why did that pop in my head? Wait… Virgin Mary… oh. Rosemary – mary= Rose.

            I looked around at the sign names, reading them slowly one by one; Oak Room… Oak Bard… The Champagne Bar… The Palm Court – Now closed, and then… The Rose Club, I waltzed over to it slowly.

            Now let me explain what the significance of all that just happened, beginning with “Like the spice without the Virgin.”, everyday, my brother gives me a riddle or sentence I have to solve whenever I wake up to find my brother to begin on the day’s task. He says it’s to help my detective skills, but really I think it’s to piss me off, sometimes it does, like when I can’t solve it, or when it never had an answer in the first place, and he just didn’t want me to follow him. Other times, I’ll solve it… and it’ll lead to about 20 other riddles, all in various places, until I arrive back at the living quarters again. It’s extremely annoying, and I’d expect anyone to have strangled him by now if he or she were in my shoes.

            I entered the Rose Club slowly, I looked around, although I’d been to The Plaza Hotel often, I’d never been to the Rose Club before, and everything was new to me, the amazing expensiveness of it all, the lush sofas with lush pillows, the golden ornate low chairs, the glass and gold square tables, the elegant glasses of wine and lovely small dishes, the small elegant coffee cups spread every other table, but mostly, the amazing largeness of it all. I stopped a waiter carrying a light tray of glasses of wine, he had a smile on his face, obviously happy to work in such a nice club.

“Where’s Table Seven?” I asked him.

“Over there, by that window.”

“There?” I pointed to a spot by a window.

“Yep.”  He responded cheerfully.

“Thank you.” I reached into my pocket, opened the wallet, and pulled out two hundred dollar bills, a light tip, but good enough for given advice.

            The waiter’s eyes bulged and he accepted it gracefully, even managing to bow somewhat. I smiled, glad I’d made his day.

            I walked over towards the window spot, realizing that my brother wasn’t seated there. I groaned, it meant I’d have to go through a long line of ridiculous riddles… Or just one. Maybe it could be one, hopefully one… Or none at all?

            As I finished my thoughts, I sat down on the sofa and looked around, when nobody was looking in my direction, I ducked under the table and looked…. Nothing. I checked under the chairs… Nothing.

            I sat up again as I noticed a pair of high heels clacking towards me.

“Are you a Mr. Andrew Kim?” A tall slender young woman asked, sort of red in the face….. Red as though someone had been bribing her with a bit more than money…

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, your brother, a Mr. James Kim asked for this to be delivered to you. She handed me a carefully folded napkin that only my brother could’ve folded. He folded letters like this so he would know whether it had been opened or not, judging from the napkin at the moment, it hadn’t been tampered with. I received the napkin from her, and then she began turning to walk away slowly, a sort of dreamy look in her eyes.

“Wait.” I called after her before she could completely turn around, she turned back around quickly, whipping her long hair quite a bit.

“Yes?” She asked, quite eager to talk to me.

“What kind of tie was he wearing?”

She looked quite perplexed by this question.

“Umm, I think an American-style striped tie, why do you ask?” She questioned, tilting her eyebrows in such a way that showed piercing curiosity.

            I ignored her for a moment.

American…….. He’d taken the Aston Martin..

            The Aston Martin meant he was on a hard case and needed me.

I turned back to her and motioned her to move closer.

            She bent her knees a tiny bit and bent her ear towards me.

“For reasons I can’t tell you…” I whispered in her ear silently, slipping a Benjamin into her hand slowly, making sure no one saw. She turned bright red but nodded silently anyways, and walked away. I could half imagine her jumping and clicking her heels. Being half seduced by a hot guy just an hour ago, slipped a few Benjamins, and talked to sweetly by the first guy’s younger brother who wasn’t that young, and given another Benjamin, into her hand!

            I laughed to myself as I saw her skip a tiny bit in her high heels. After she’d walked back into the waiter’s quarters, I turned my attention back to the origami napkin.

            I slowly unfolded it and read the neat scribble inside:

            Wake up late again and you won’t get help- at the client’s place, park behind the car… you know which car it is.

I crumpled the napkin and slipped it into my pocket. I stood up and left the club quickly, jogging slightly even.

            I ran outside and hailed over a hotel worker who did the valet parking.

“You need your car?” He asked with something akin to a British accent.

“Yes.”

“I’ll need ta see ‘ur tag card sir.”

            I flashed the number card and the British man was off.

A couple of minutes later a sleek black Audi R8 drove down the street with the British Valet man in it.

            He got out and handed the keys.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, drivin’ a nice car as that.”

I reached into my wallet again and pulled out three Benjamins and pushed it into his hands.

“Sir?” He said, surprised.

“Just take it.”

“Why thank you!” He said quite happily, a wide smile filling his features.

            I’d never been very patient unless it really mattered. Lines for anything simply just killed me, I hated waiting in lines when ordering something at mc donald’s, waiting in line at movie theatres, waiting in line for black Friday, waiting in line for anything in general was plain torture. The local grocery store is even worse on Mondays, when all the seniors from the local nursery home goes to buy something from the store. They usually forget how much they were counting up to when counting their money, or just never brought enough money to begin with and ask everyone around for money.

            That’s what I was dealing with at the moment as I inched along, fender to fender in classic New York City traffic. Not really even inching along really, more like millimetering along. An accident up ahead was what seemingly had caused the slower than usual traffic. Stuff like this happened all the time, so when I went past the scene of the accident, I was surprised by the yellow tape surrounding the area, then I saw the car.

            The white Acura had been shot multiply, the windows were all destroyed in some way, small bullet holes dotted every spot on the car, but much larger holes appeared in the windshield, possibly suggesting possibly anti tank rounds, an extreme oddity. I passed by slowly, suddenly aware of everything around me, I could hear the muffled purring of the engine of the Audi, the roaring of busses, the honking of normal NYC, the screeching of brakes, the classical shouting and construction noises. As I listened and watched the scene, I noticed that the detectives had already arrived, then I noticed the Commissioner, Daniel A. Smithston. I knew him because he was the Commissioner that’d almost been fired by the mayor for trying to help my brother, maybe I’ll get to that later, but it isn’t important now.

            I drove slowly by, looking away, pretending not to be listening, luckily the scene had been at a corner, so I took a right and parked 2 cars away between a Porsche and a Volvo and listened to the men speaking.

“Think it was Red Talon?” One detective asked absentmindedly, and judging from the tinkle of glass, he was stepping around the car.

“Possibly, but when were they ever a real threat? Where would they have gotten an anti-tank gun? The organization is only small armed robbery Harold, think bigger.”

“Sorry, it’s just orthodox, who would kill a Social Worker?”

            Then there was silence, and then the tinkling of glass suggested that they were collecting evidence. Incoherent words were exchanged and then the rest was drowned out by traffic noise. I jammed the stick into reverse, backed out of the space, and rammed the gear into first, slammed the accelerator and sped off 20 mph above the speed limit, the whole time mulling this around in my mind.

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Merry Christmas

My b.d. is oct. 19th