The Mediator Job
A Goodman Incorporated Short Story
Dodging expensive decorative pieces being thrown across the Upper East Side apartment by a couple at war, Henry Goodman wondered if it was time to consider a real job. He began to recognize a trend of weirdness that grew in tandem with the price the customer was willing to pay. This was another job that seemed easy enough over the phone, like the last one, but maybe the last one was a fluke, he thought. As he thought, a mini ceramic Statue of David broke near his head, and Hank decided enough was enough.
…
It was a slow week, with very few calls. Dusty’s words about finding a real job were beginning to create doubt in Hank’s mind about whether Goodman Incorporated was just a pipe dream. Then the company phone rang, Emma raced to the phone, and answered before he could get to it. “Goodman Incorporated, this is Emma. How can I assist you?”
Henry blushed with humiliation. This was a serious business he was trying to launch.
“Hi, this is Luisa Bryant, executive assistant to Mrs. Alden from Verity Magazine. I’m looking to set up a meeting with Henry Goodman for my boss.”
“Let me check his calendar,” Emma smiled teasingly as she rustled paper on the kitchen counter. “He has some availability this week. What day were you thinking?”
“Is he available for lunch today? My boss is in desperate need of assistance on an issue of the utmost sensitivity.” Listening from the other side of the phone, Hank nodded his head in approval.
“He may be able to move some things around, but he’ll require $500 to prioritize your client, $2000 if he decides to take the job, and another $2000 for completing the job.” Emma was very serious now. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were tight. Hank waited tensely for an answer.
“Done.” Luisa Bryant answered. “Mrs. Alden will be waiting for Mr. Goodman at Daniel’s 1:30pm.” Hank and Emma jumped and danced around the living room after hanging up the phone.
“OMG $4,500! This is your biggest job yet,” Emma covered her mouth. “I wonder what she is going to ask you to do.”
“Whatever it is, a Goodman will handle it,” he stood like a triumphant Superman.
“Okay,” Dusty entered the scene from his bedroom. “Maybe this can be a legit job. 4.5K is a lot of money, but you have no idea what you’re going to be in for. You’re in dangerous waters my friend. What if something goes wrong and she sues you?”
“It’s Manhattan, bro. What could possibly be so serious when you have that kind of money?” He responded confidently. “But what will I wear to Daniel’s?”
“Let’s go look in your closet. We’ll look at TikTok for ideas,” Emma led him by the hand to the bedroom.
…
As Hank exited the taxi on 65th, the driver handed him a note. “Here, some guy told me to give this to you before I picked you up.”
“Who was the guy?” he asked.
“Hell if I know. He looked like a Fed to me.”
“Thanks.” I said as he drove off.
The note read, “We’re on to you. Meet me tonight on the North Shore, Staten Island.” Hank crumpled the paper and shoved it in his pocket. Daniel’s was the nicest restaurant he’d ever been to. He tried no to seem out of place by walking in the way James Bond did in Casino Royale, smoldering and adjusting his cufflinks.
One of the hosts led him to a table where an elegant middle-aged woman eyed the menu through the spectacles resting on her nose. “Mrs. Alden,” Hank announced, clearing his throat.
“Mr. Goodman, a pleasure to meet you.” She stood gracefully and shook his hand. “You come highly recommended by our mutual friend, Mr. Gilbert. He says you’re the kind of man who gets a job done.”
“That depends on the job, ma’am.” Hank unbuttoned his jacket and sat down.
“I’m interested in learning more about your previous work with high profile clients.”
“That’s classified Mrs. Alden. I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”
“Are you quoting Top Gun at me?” They both laughed. “Anyway, secrecy is exactly what I’m looking for. I believe my husband is engaging in some nefarious business, professionally or relationally. One, I can live with. The other, I cannot tolerate. We are not on speaking terms at the moment, so I will need you to act as mediator between us for a couple of days. While you are in our home, feel free to work your magic to discover what my husband is hiding. I need to know everything he is up to.” She glared into his eyes without blinking as she spoke. “I have the utmost confidence in your ability.”
“Would you please excuse me for one minute, Mrs. Alden?” Hank tried to hold it together, but he was beginning to break character.
“Please, call me Sherry.”
“Excuse me one moment, Sherry.” He sauntered calmly to the restroom. Once he was safely in a stall, Hank unbuttoned his collar and breathed deeply. This sounded like a huge undertaking with irrevocable consequences. He decided to call Emma.
“How’s it going with Miss Uppington?” She asked on the other line.
“I’m in way over my head, Em. Things are starting to get really weird.”
“What do you mean?”
He told her about the note and Sherry’s connection to Mr. Gilbert. “If he’s really a dangerous criminal like Dusty says, and she wants me to find dirt on her husband, I’m worried I might find something I can’t unsee.”
“If you want to back out, I support you. You’ll still get $500 for taking the meeting. But it could just all be a coincidence. Mr. Gilbert’s never asked you to do anything criminal and she’s the head of a reputable magazine. It’s four thousand dollars.”
“You’re right. But I’m not a hacker. How am I supposed to tap into his computer and stuff?”
“I know a guy. He’s a computer wiz who’d do anything for me.”
“Ok, I’ll do it.” Hank let out a deep exhale and buttoned himself up before leaving the stall. A man holding a camera, snapped a picture of him before attempting to run. “Hey, what are you doing?” Hank grabbed the guy, but the man was trained in evasive maneuvers. He managed to escape. “What the hell was that all about?” he wondered.
“Is everything all right, Mr. Goodman?” Sherry Alden asked as he returned to his seat.
“Please, call me Hank. I’ll handle your case.”
…
After packing a bag, obtaining a flash drive from Emma’s hacker friend, and grabbing an orange Fanta for good luck, Mrs. Alden’s driver escorted him to their luxury residence on the Upper East side. The doorman took his bag and walked him to the elevator. Sherry gave him a tour of the immense apartment when they arrived. “I’m glad you’re here. My husband will be here soon, and I don’t imagine he will be thrilled to see you.”
“That’s exciting,” Hank sighed nervously.
“Lucius is a creature of habit. His routine is to unpack his computer and briefcase in the office before dinner. After dinner he exercises at the gym. When he returns, he falls asleep watching television in the living room for about an hour before finally coming to bed. You will have to take advantage of that time to get the information I’m looking for. Did you pack enough clothes for a few days? I don’t intend to speak to him until I’ve processed whatever we discover.”
“Sherry, I’m home!” Lucius announced from the elevator as he walked over to them. “Who the hell is this?”
“Please, let my husband know I won’t be speaking to him and that you will be my mediator for a few days,” she said without looking in his direction.
Hank cleared his throat, “Mrs. Alden won’t be speaking...”
“I heard what she said!” Lucius eyed him furiously. “Sherry, what the hell is this? You’re being ridiculous.”
“Please tell my husband...” she began.
“I don’t have time for this right now,” Lucius said before storming off to his office.
“You see,” Sherry cried. “He doesn’t even care that I won’t speak to him. He’ll just go on living his life as I’m dying inside.” She ran to her guest room to sob, leaving Hank awkwardly alone in the living room. He wasn’t sure what to do in a strange fancy apartment while his clients were doing their own thing. He decided to unpack in his room and introduce himself to Mr. Lucius Alden.
He knocked on the office door, “Mr. Alden, my name is Henry Goodman.” The burley mountain of a man was hunching over his laptop in a white undershirt, pinstriped boxer shorts, and shirt stays clipped to his socks.
“Lucius Alden,” he politely shook hands with an annoyed exhale. “Now, what the hell are you, some kind of lawyer or something?”
“I’m whatever my clients need me to be.”
“I’ll pay you whatever she’s paying you to get out of my house right now.”
“Listen, Lucius. I’m not in the business of creating problems. I get hired to solve problems. Right now, your wife is hurting, and she needs to know that you care about her.”
“Then why doesn’t she just tell me that? Why does she have to go to this extreme by hiring you to speak for her?”
“Maybe she thinks that’s the only way you’ll listen.”
Lucius scoffed and turned back to his computer. Hank closed the door and grinned to himself, convinced Mr. Alden did not suspect a thing.
…
When dinner came around, Hank wasn’t too thrilled about being treated like a house hand. He received the food from the elevator, set the table, and distributed dinner.
“Sherry, can you pass the steak sauce?” Lucius asked. She slid the bottle to Hank, who then passed it to him. It was the same with salt and a napkin.
“Henry, can you please ask my husband to open a bottle of my favorite wine.”
Before he could speak, Lucius responded with, “why don’t you just have him do it?”
“Because I want you…” Sherry began until she remembered herself and turned her attention to Hank. “Tell my husband, I want him to show me he knows what my favorite wine is.”
“She wants you to prove you know her favorite wine.”
Lucius stood up confidently, grabbed a Sauvignon Blanc from the wine fridge, and pulled the cork swiftly before pouring her a glass. “Tell my husband, thank you,” she said after sipping a taste.
“She says thank you,” Hank repeated after swallowing a bite of steak.
“Tell my wife, you’re welcome,” Lucius shot him a wry smile.
…
Mr. and Mrs. Alden hardly spoke the rest of the evening, so Henry Goodman awkwardly waited in the guestroom to either be summoned or spring into action once Lucius fell asleep. However, nothing quite went according to Sherry’s plan. He did not go to the gym or fall asleep on the couch watching Sportscenter. The blue light from the office computer shone through the glass panes on the door most of the night. When you’ve been married as long as they have, it must be weird sleeping on the bed without your partner, Hank thought to himself.
The next morning, he repeated everything Sherry wanted him to address to her husband. She woke up in a particularly salty mood. “Would you please ask my husband if he would like some breakfast?” Mrs. Alden asked sweetly.
Hank cleared his throat uncomfortably before repeating, “Mrs. Alden would like to know if you want breakfast.”
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Tell him, he can go get it himself.” Her countenance darkened with spite and bitterness. She tightened the grip around the spatula and held a defiant hand to her hip.
“Umm,” Hank shifted in his seat. “She…uh…said to…uh…go get it yourself.” A long silence ensued until the smell of eggs burning filled the kitchen air.
“So that’s the way it’s going to be?” the vein in Mr. Alden’s temple was pulsating with tempered rage. “Can you at least tell me what the hell I did to upset you?”
“Tell him not to play the bastard with me. If he wants to play games, I can play games too. He knows exactly what he did and thinks I’m too stupid to figure it out.”
The worst thing about it was that Lucius was allowing Hank to repeat the whole conversation, as if to direct his rage at him completely. “She said not to play the…uh…bastard with her. She can play games too if you want to play games. Apparently, you know exactly what you did and think she is too…stupid to figure it out.”
“Is that what she said?” He asked sarcastically, towering over him.
“Uh-huh.” Hank nodded.
“Sherry, cut the crap! Just talk to me already! I wouldn’t be asking you what I did if I knew. I’d apologize if you told me what I did wrong.”
Both Lucius and Hank ducked for cover as the glass saltshaker shattered against the kitchen table. “Tell him, he’s a son of a bitch! Tell him!” Then the pepper shaker was also thrown and broken.
“She says you’re a…”
“I heard what she said, dammit!” Mr. Alden yelled from under the table. “Sherry, stop throwing things! What the hell’s wrong with you?” Somehow, that made her angrier and she started pulling dishes from the cupboards to throw.
Hank saw this as an opportunity to escape into the office. He rolled across the kitchen floor to a safe spot behind the couch in the living room. This is the point where he wondered whether these odd jobs that went haywire were worth the money. Maybe clocking in from nine to five wouldn’t be so bad. Then again, he will be making almost 5k in less than 48 hours if he gets this job done today. The mini ceramic statue of David shattered against the frame of the couch. He crawled carefully and quickly out of the living room, avoiding sharp pieces of broken glass along the way.
While Mrs. Alden kept Lucius busy in the kitchen, Hank slipped into the office and called Emma’s friend. “Thank you for calling Trident Tech Solutions, this is Raj, how can I help you?” answered a man with a mild Indian accent.
“Hey Raj, this is Emma’s friend, Hank,” he said in a whisper.
“Ah Master Splinter! It’s an honor to meet you. You even sound like him with your raspy voice. How are the ninja turtles treating you?”
“Keep it down. I’m in the office now but I don’t have much time.”
“There’s a lot of commotion in the background. It sounds like you’re in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“It will be in a minute if we don’t hurry.”
“No problem. Just plug the thumb drive into the computer and I will be able to take over from here,” Raj’s excitable voice helped calm Hank’s nerves as he shakily inserted the drive. “Okay, okay, I’m in. What are we looking for here, Social Security, Bank Information, dirty pictures?”
“My client suspects him of either an affair or money laundering for Mr. Gilbert. See if you can find anything related. Her company is Verity Magazine.”
“Ooh, I love Verity Magazine. My mom always keeps the latest issue in the bathroom. It’s great for toilet reading.”
“TMI,” Hank said to himself as he scanned the movement on the screen.
“Okay, I found a few things,” Raj’s excitement faded to grim. “There is definitely some laundering, but I found some other things too. I’m uploading it all to the flash drive. Give me a few seconds. Okay you’re ready to pull out.”
“Thanks, gotta go.” Hank hung up the phone and slid back into the living room, scraping his hands and knees carelessly on broken shards. While Mr. Alden was taking cover, Hank showed Sherry the flash drive in his hands. She stopped suddenly and began to cry. Lucius checked if the coast was clear and noticed her crying. He stood up and embraced her tightly in his massive arms. Without warning, Mrs. Alden started kissing him passionately. Surprised but also willing, Mr. Alden lifted her to the counter. They moved from the counter to the couch, completely ignoring Hank, who was still standing awkwardly in the living room. “I’ll just…I’m gonna go.”
…
The elevator opened to the thirteenth floor, where Hank was meeting Sherry to follow up on the contents of the flash drive. “Excuse me, do you have an appointment,” asked a beautiful exotic secretary at the desk as Hank reached for the door.
“Yes, I’m Henry Goodman here to see Mrs. Alden.”
“Oh!” she blushed and covered her bashful smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Goodman. You’re just not what I imagined.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint.”
“No, no, no that’s not what I meant at all. You look fine, but…well…I didn’t mean “fine” like that…not that I don’t think you’re fine.” She stopped herself from speaking. “Aye! I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m Luisa Bryant, Mrs. Alden’s assistant.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Luisa,” Hank shook her hand, trying to emulate as much James Bond energy as he could muster.
“Mrs. Alden is ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re just younger than I imagined, is what I meant to say,” she inserted before he opened the door.
“I’m just happy to hear you think about me,” He winked and then entered the office.
Sherry was on the phone and signaled him to have a seat. The office had an incredible view of Manhattan. He daydreamed for a minute what it would be like to have a corner office like this. What if Goodman Incorporated grew to be a huge company across the country?
“Have a seat Mr. Goodman. I’m anxious to hear what you found.”
“Your assistant is a charming young woman.”
“Yes, Luisa’s wonderful. Now, let’s get to it please.”
“Well, there is no easy way to say this…but your husband is laundering money from your company to Mr. Gilbert.”
“But, what about the affair?”
“My people searched his computer high and low but found no sign of an affair.”
“Thank heaven!” She sounded so relieved. “I’m going to call Lucius and tell him I love him.”
“What about the money going to Mr. Gilbert?”
“I don’t care about that. Business is business.” Mrs. Alden was giddy with joy. “Mr. Gilbert was right about you. You are a good man, Henry. Luisa will give you the check on your way out.”
A strange feeling came over Henry, like when he was fired from his copywriting job. His Spidey sense was tingling. There was a disturbance in the force. The universe was telling him something was coming, but he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Luisa handed him the envelope enclosing the check. “Can I have a business card? You never know when you’ll need a good man.”
“SHE DID NOT SAY THAT?” Dusty scoffed in disbelief. “You don’t even have business cards.”
“They just came in last week. I got a huge discount for buying a box of a thousand. Want one?”
“Wow, Henry. Sounds like this girl, Luisa, is really into you. You should give her a call,” Emma suggested.
“Nah, I’m not quite over Kim yet. It wouldn’t be right.”
“WAIT!” Raj interrupted by banging the bottle of orange Fanta on the counter. “Are we going to ignore the list of federal agents on Mr. Gilbert’s payroll I found on the computer?”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Emma ran to the bedroom and came back with a card. “Some guy in a trench coat dropped this note off for you, Henry.”
“Strike One,” Hank read it out loud.
“Okay, so we are going to ignore it. That’s cool. That’s fine.” Raj threw his hands in the air.
“You need to meet with this guy,” Dusty urged. “I warned you about getting mixed up with Mr. Gilbert. Now a rival gang is hunting you down and we’re all gonna get gunned down, because of you!”
“Relax, Dusty.” We’re not in prohibition anymore. “These are just sketchy businesspeople trying to intimidate him.”
“In a world of rainbows and unicorns, that may be true, Em, but this is reality. I say we get a lawyer and turn that information over to the feds to do what they want with it.”
“Or we can do nothing,” Hank suggested. “We pretend we never saw it and go on with our lives. We can’t be held responsible for what we don’t know.”
“Right. Right. That plan always works out in movies,” Raj shivered with fear. “When you don’t know what to do, do nothing. I like it.”
“Thanks, Raj.” Hank grabbed an orange Fanta from the fridge when his phone rang. He pulled it out to check the caller id.
It was Kim…
