Orchid Blues Read Free Page A

as the two guards on the armored car went through their drill; they looked bored. As they unloaded, a civilian, a man, drove up in a convertible, got out and went inside. The guards regarded him closely, then entered. They were inside the building for less than two minutes, then returned to their vehicle and entered it through the rear door, locking it behind them. The driver put the car into gear and drove out of the parking lot.
    The leader waited while the armored car stopped for a traffic light, then turned left onto Highway A1A. “Here we go,” he said. He started the engine and drove to the spot outside the main entrance that the armored car had just vacated. “Hats, masks and goggles on,” he said. He waited ten seconds, then looked at his wristwatch, a chronograph. He pressed a button. “Two minutes,” he said, “starting now. ”
    Everybody got out of the van and started for the front door.

Four
    JACKSON OXENHANDLER ARRIVED AT HIS OFFICE for the closing, with ten minutes to spare. His secretary had already set out all the documents on the conference room table, and he checked them once more. He liked for his closings to go smoothly.
    His partner, Fred Ames, stuck his head in. “You’re working right down to the wire, huh? I like that.”
    “Gotta bring in some bucks for you to squander while I’m gone,” Jackson said. “I’ll bet you’re off to Vegas tomorrow.”
    “Tonight,” Ames said, grinning. “I’ve got all your personal stuff ready to sign. It’s on your desk.”
    “After the closing, you and the girls come in; I’ll need you all for witnesses.”
    “Got it.”
    The receptionist came to the door. “Everybody’s here, Jackson.”
    “Send them in,” Jackson said, then stood and shook everyone’s hand—both real estate agents, the sellers and their lawyer, and the buyers, who were his own clients.
    For the next forty-five minutes, everybody methodically signed documents, stacks of documents. Money, in the form of cashier’s checks, changed hands. There was some quibbling about a couple of contingencies in the sales document, and Jackson made small changes, making everybody happy.
    Finally, when everything was signed, everybody left, the sellers with a large check and the buyers with the deed to a very fine beach house.
    Jackson went into his office, and Fred Ames and two secretaries followed him.
    “You know the drill,” Fred said, setting the documents on his desk. “Does this document accurately reflect your wishes?”
    “It does,” Jackson said, and started to sign.
    When he was done, and the document had been properly witnessed, Ames set two plastic document wallets on the desk. “The policies came this morning; everything is in order.”
    “Put them in the safe,” he said to his secretary, handing her the wallets. “Everything else, too.” They complied, and he shooed them out of his office. He picked up the little recorder, found his notes and began to dictate. He went rapidly, knowing his secretary could follow his rapid speech. An hour and a half later, he stood up, straightened his desk, and left his office. He laid the cassette on his secretary’s desk.
    Fred stuck his head through the door of his office. “You’re really going to do this, huh? After all these years as a bachelor?”
    “Looks that way,” Jackson said, grinning. “You know, at the closing, nobody said a word about me being in a white suit with a carnation in my lapel?”
    “I explained to them,” his secretary said.
    “Oh. All right, I’m out of here. See you all at the courthouse, and after that, in three weeks.”
    Everybody waved goodbye.
     
    Jackson drove to the travel agent’s office in the shopping center near his office. He had to wait a minute for a parking place outside their door, and as he waited, he noticed a van drive by. “Environmental Services,” he muttered aloud to himself, chuck-ling. “Janitors, I’ll bet. The further inflation of the English language. One day,