Planet Willie by Josh Shoemake Read Free Book Online Page A

I hadn’t. In this modern
day you want to be open to cuisines of all nations, but there are some you only
need to do once, and brother that’s Hawaiian chili. “I’m really just interested
in his school of Botticelli Madonna. The one with the sexy smile, not unlike
Miss Gardner’s.”
    He looks over
at her and says, “ The Killers . Robert Siodmak.”
    “I figured as
much,” I say. “She was something.”
    “She was,” he
says, relaxing a bit. “It’s a great film, and she’s the tops. But if we’re
talking about Siodmak, I prefer Phantom Lady . Ella Raines, she was
something too.” He grins to himself and wolfs down some chili. I wince with
each bite, but I guess you have to let the kids make their own mistakes.
    “How do you
know so much about movies, Darling?” I ask. “They let you out of here
occasionally for good behavior?”
    “Actually I
studied film in college. Film studies.”
    “You spent
four years studying the likes of Ava Gardner,” I say, “but the pull of
insurance proved too strong.”
    “This is a
great career in a great firm, Mister Lee,” he says, forgetting Ava and giving
me the look I guess he’s been practicing in the mirror for his first board
meeting. “Not a job, not just something I’m interested in, but a career, Mister
Lee.”
    “Call me
Willie,” I say. “Nobody’s called me Mister Lee since I fired the butler. Now
how about everything you’ve got on Shore’s Madonna. I don’t want to waste your
time.”
    He doesn’t
like it, but he goes over to a large filing cabinet. After some searching he
comes back over to the desk with a file the size of a Russian novel and starts
going through it in search of the Madonna.
    “When was the
last time you had any contact with the Shore family?” I ask as he works.
    “As you know, Mister Shore is confined to a wheelchair,” he says, “so most of our business is conducted
over telephone or through his lawyers.” Which wasn’t the question, so I decide
to follow up with another little zinger. They don’t pay me the big bucks for
nothing. “Shore mentioned that his daughter Fernanda is closely involved in his
business affairs.”
    “Miss Shore does occasionally visit us as her father’s representative,” he says. “She’s naturally
very concerned for his financial welfare.”
    And that’s
putting it mildly, I’m thinking, as he slides a folder from the stack. It’s one
of those folders printed with blank lines where you can sign or fill in a date.
    “Now then,”
Darling says. “The school of Botticelli Madonna.” He pulls out some papers and
turns them on the desk for me to read – certificates, attestations, bills of
sale, and a lot more I couldn’t begin to understand. I ask him how much the
painting’s worth, he tells me it’s insured for a million dollars, which does
put the case into perspective.
    “How about
photographs?” I say.
    “There’s one
in here,” he says, flipping through papers. Near the bottom of the folder, he
finds an eight-by-ten and passes it over. I look at the eyes. That’s what I do
– I look at the eyes. Unfortunately I’d have to be Harry Shore to say how blue
they are.
    “Could I get a
copy of this, Darling?”
    He chuckles
like this is really the most comical statement he’s heard in all his many years
of experience. Difficult line to take when you’re still fighting facial acne,
though in all honesty the petroleum jelly can’t do wonders for the complexion.
“I’m afraid not,” he says.
    “And that’s
the only photograph you have on record?”
    He looks down
at the Shore file. “It would be in this file if we have it,” he says.
    “Do me a
favor,” I say. “I’ll turn my head if you like, but would you mind just taking a
quick glance to see if you find any other photographic evidence of our lovely
Madonna? Then I can say I’ve done my job, you’ve certainly done yours, and I
can let you get back to work.”
    He sighs
deeply and makes a big show of