Behind Closed Doors

“Hey, Cat, the last box is in the truck.” I looked over to my boyfriend, standing in the doorway.

“Thanks, Babe.” I replied. I then went back to staring at the closed door in front of me.

“We’ve packed up the entire rest of the house, Cathryn. It’s the only room left,” he said.

“I know, Timmy. It’s just I realized I’ve never even seen the inside of this room.” I sputtered. I was not going to cry. I couldn’t cry. Daddy always hated when I cried. I cleared my throat hard. “I just need a minute.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ll grab some empty boxes,” he said, kissing me on the cheek before disappearing in the house.

“Knock! Knock!” a voice came from the foyer. I immediately cringed. The smell of expensive perfume masking stale cigarettes wafted into the hallway, followed by a stunning brunette.

“Hello Mother. Did Hell get lonely?” I seethed; she had no right to be here. “In case you forgot, Daddy left this house to me. So get out!” I screamed loud enough that I prayed Timmy heard.

“Please don’t talk to me in such a manner. This week has been truly difficult. How will I continue to live without your father?” My mother responded, dabbing the corner of her eye with a silk handkerchief before flashing her million dollar smile.

“The only difficult part about this week was finding out that Daddy cut you out of his will. By the way, command performance at his funeral.” How dare she? Where the hell was Timmy? I could bury two parents in one week, right?

“Thanks, Doll. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been a star. But sadly babies and Broadway don't mix, and your father was a strict Catholic when it came to matters involving you. Now move! There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Your father owes me and I’m not leaving until I get what is rightfully mine.” She brushed past me and extended her arm to the doorknob. I grabbed her wrist.

“Get out, now!” I screamed at her and jerked her away from the door. Her free hand flew across my face sending me crashing to the hardwood floor. She stood over me, her pointy toe pump on my neck.

“Listen here you little brat. I just want your father’s lock-box. Any sap of a collector will pay big for his show gun. And seeing as I alone have the key…” she started smugly.

“She doesn’t need a key, she has me.” Timmy interrupted finally entering the hall. He walked over to me extending his hand and pushing my mother away.

“Oh yes. My daughter’s delinquent boyfriend. Better than any key ever made.” She sneered, “Your father’s body hasn’t even settled in the ground and you are already defiling his house with scum.” She walked back over to the door. “I am only going to say this one time, move!” she demanded. Timmy stood his ground as my mother poked a long fingernail into his chest.

“You can either leave now or I can call the police, and have them escort you away.” I said from behind Timmy. She laughed, not her usual seductive giggle but a loud cackle that echoed through the empty house.

“You think the police would actually show up to Paulie the Plunger’s house!” She exclaimed. She could barely talk she was laughing so hard. “Fine, Cathryn. I’ll leave, but I will be back for that lock-box. By the way, I would hurry up and clear out of here. This place isn’t safe now that your father is gone.” She warned and turned to leave, still laughing.

“Did your mother just call your father a plunger?” Timmy asked, confused. I just stared at him and shrugged. I had no idea what she meant and deciphering her insults was definitely not on my to-do list. I finally placed my hand on the doorknob of Daddy’s office. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned the knob. I exhaled and pushed the door open.

The smell of old books and cigars hit my nose. Suddenly the tears I’d been fighting fell down my cheek. I walked into his office. His desk a mess with papers and half a cigar still remained in the ashtray. He was in a hurry when he left, evident by the almost empty brandy glass next to the ashtray. I just looked around, my fingers ever so lightly touching the items on his desk.

I pulled open the top desk drawer, emptying the contents into the empty box I had placed on his chair. The bottom draw seemed oddly organized. I pulled out the folders and papers leaving a lone pen. I went to grab the pen but it seemed stuck. After a little maneuvering, the pen came out along with a false bottom. I was shocked to find that Daddy had a hiding spot considering the safes hidden around the house. Timmy had to crack all three of them. Each one contained papers, various guns, and even a few dozen bars of gold.

Underneath the false bottom was steel box. “This must be what my mother was looking for.” I said as I placed the box on top of the desk. I looked over to Timmy. Without saying a word he left the books he was packing and walked over to me. He pulled his tools from his back pocket and began to pick the lock.

“What do you think he would hide in here that he wouldn’t want in a safe?” Timmy asked turning the lock. I shrugged again. He flipped open the lid. We both looked down. The box was filled with a few stacks of cash, my father’s prized Titanium Gold Desert Eagle, and a small black leather bound book. “Whoa!” Timmy exclaimed as he grabbed the stacks of money. He began counting the bills as I grabbed the book.

Inside, the pages were filled with Daddy’s writing. Each page contained random letters and numbers followed by one of four symbols. A diamond, a heart, a club, and finally a spade.

“Timmy,” I started, “what do you make of this?” I showed him the book. He stopped counting the stacks of cash and grabbed the book. After flipping a few pages, a cheesy smile grew across his lips.

“So that’s what your mother is talking about.” Timmy started laughing. I felt myself getting more and more upset by the minute.

“Can you tell me what’s so funny?” I asked, fuming. “What is my mother talking about?” He continued laughing.

“I’m surprised I never knew,” he managed to say. “But it explains why he disliked me so much.” Timmy shook his head and inhaled deeply. He was finally composed enough to answer. “Your father was a bookie, Cat.” He explained seriously.

“What?!” I exclaimed. There was no way that Daddy was involved in anything illegal. Daddy respected the law. He always donated to the Police and Fire Fund. He was always at the range or golf course with one detective or another. He had even made sure my date for the Debutante Ball was the Police Commissioner’s son. “You must be mistaken, Babe. There’s no way that Daddy did anything illegal. He was a legitimate businessman.” I defended him.

“I know how much you admire your father, and I hate to have to be the one to tell you, but Cat there’s no other explanation. The letters are initials, the numbers are amounts, not sure about the symbols.” Timmy reached for my hand. I slapped it away.

“Are you trying to tell me my father was some petty criminal? This isn’t funny, Timothy.” I said trying to keep from falling apart. Daddy’s voice echoed in my head, “Always remember, the diamonds are your high rollers, the hearts can be allowed slight mercy, the clubs might need a little motivation, and the spades just need to be reminded that life is precious.” Words I never understood. Words that Daddy spoke to me constantly, even before I knew what a deck of cards was.

“Well considering the small fortune in gold as well as this cash we found, I’d say that he was far from a petty criminal. He was probably a really big earner for some family out there.” Timmy responded. He tried to get me to smile but I was in no mood to smile. I had not only lost my father, but I had found out he had an entire life that I knew nothing about.

“So what do we do now?” I asked. Daddy didn’t leave any instructions and I was pretty sure this was what my mother wanted. She didn't care about his gun, but instead was after the black book. Timmy continued to flip through the pages, trying to decipher the code.

“Well from the looks of it a little over $100,000 was left uncollected before you father died.” Timmy responded, “So what do you want to do? Should we figure out who he worked for and give the book to them?” He asked.

I turned away from him. A hundred grand would be great. Timmy and I could open the auto shop we had been dreaming of for years. “Can we actually accomplish it? Like do you think that we could actually collect all of these debts?” I asked incredulously.

“Well there’s $20,000 in this case right now. That’s one hell of a startup fund for a collection spree. Or we can just take the money and get rid of the book. Up to you, Cat.” He said.

I spun around and smiled for the first time in a week. “Let’s do it, Babe!” I exclaimed. He smiled back planting a big kiss on my lips. “Now, how do we figure out the first name?”