I looked up. Stuck a cigar between my teeth and smiled. 'Hey, what can I do for you boys?'
Both of these guys stood around six-one or six-two. Both of them weighed in at about 210. They were both white, somewhere in their thirties and each had a buzz cut. T Dee and T Dum each wore a black suit with white dress shirts. As a matter of fact, the only difference that I could see was the colors of their ties.
Dee's was blue and Dum's was green.
Green Tie says, 'Don't be stupid here, Mr. Picker. No one has to get hurt.'
We were rapidly sliding into B movie territory.
Blue Tie opens his mouth, 'We just want the picture. Give us the picture and we're outta here.'
What did I tell you, B movie dialog.
Now, I have to take just a moment and tell you what these two gents saw when they barged into my home. The entire first floor of the house is an open floor plan.
Immediately to the right of the front door, when you walk in, is the dining area. The dining room furniture is a Cherry wood ten piece set, very old and sits on an oriental rug. The rug is about 10' x 20' and its main colors consist of red and blue.
To the right of the dining area is the kitchen. The only thing that separates it from the dining area is a counter with some stools.
We were sitting in the living area, just to the left of the front door. The furniture here is a mix of period, Victorian and Mission. One wall is nothing but a book case filled with both antique books and modern mystery novels. At the moment I'm reading Robert Crais’ “Taken”.
Another wall in the living area consists of a very large fire place. The third wall, the one directly behind Kelly and me, has dozens of painting hanging from it. Dozens of oil paintings that I picked up in my travels over the years. Old ones, recent ones, impression, realistic, modern, you name it. You should see it for yourself, really quite impressive.
I look at the wall of paintings. I turn back to Dee and Dum. 'Take any one you want fellas. We're running a special today for twins with automatic weapons. Go ahead; take any one that you like.'
Blue speaks, 'Look Mr. Picker, we're not here to give you any trouble. We certainly don't want anyone to get hurt. Just hand #37 over like a good boy and we'll be on our way.'
What I was hearing was both good and bad. Good because I believed him. These guys were too well dressed and polished to be crack addicts or low level hoods. Unless push came to shove no one would be harmed. The bad bit was that these professional, what, security guys, knew not only my name but were specifically hunting for #37.
'Sorry, boys. Believe it or not, I have no idea what you're talking about. But if I did, it would be my job to lie about it and your job is to look for it. In that case, how would you like to proceed?'
The fact that he mentioned the painting by name was alarming. Its existence was known only to a very small circle of people. I wondered, how did this secret get out. More troubling, who was it that was searching for it. It occurred to me that whoever it was, they well fairly well financed. So far, I've dealt with two disparate contingencies, the Gunn brothers and now the professional Bobbsey Twins.
Green Tie tells Blue Tie, 'Keep them covered. I'll search.'
Interesting and more interesting. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum know the name of the painting. However, and I now know this for a fact, they have no idea what it looks like. Huh?
After thirty minutes of searching the entire house the two of them are standing side by side with their weapons still pointed at us. Tweedle Dum Green appears to be slightly more in charge.
'We're going up to the large house Picker, together. If the painting’s not there we'll have to consider other options.'
A not so veiled threat. 'That's Mr. Picker to you. Look, fellas… I just rent. The house up on the hill belongs to Mr. Burke, a very wealthy and influential business man. Honestly, I have nothing to do with him. If you want someplace else to search, I also rent the stables just up the drive. The keys are right there on the kitchen counter.'
TDG looks at me funny and says, 'Tell ya what, smart guy. You grab the keys and we'll follow you over. Don't try any funny stuff or you'll get a bullet in the back.'
I shook my head and had to wonder where he got his dialog. Too much television, old movies? Who knows? 'Okay, we'll do it your way. Let's go take a look.'
I stand up, take Kelly's hand and walk over to the counter. Pick up the keys and go through the front door. After about five steps I take the dog whistle, the one attached to the key chain, and blow.
Kato comes bounding across the lawn. Suddenly it occurs to me that plan B was not such a good idea. Mr. Dum and Mr. Dee are standing behind Kelly and me. One slightly to the right, the other slightly to the left. Even if Kato manages to get one of them the other only has to shoot the poor creature. Should have thought this through a little better.
Thwack! That's the sound that I hear immediately to my right. I push Kelly to the ground and turn to my right. TJ is following through his swing with a golf club that just made immediate contact with Dum's head.
Thwack again! This time I turn to my left. Dee is face down on the ground after coming into contact with a forty ounce baseball bat. Jaw-long, TJ's friend, is also following through with his swing. By the way, in case you didn't know, his name means 'like a dragon'. Can't argue with that.
I step over the bodies and retrieve the guns. I hand one to Jaw and tell him to cover these guys. TJ is going through their pockets looking for some identification.
'Nice work, lads. What brings you to my neck of the woods? Oh, I might add, just in the nick of time.'
'Uncle Moe', TJ said. “He said to get my sorry ass up here, something about you being in trouble.” It turns out that, like most mornings, TJ and Jaw-long were performing their early morning Tai-Chi rituals in Chinatown. This takes place every morning in the park where dozens, if not more, usually elderly Chinese start their day with this ancient custom.
Kelly pipes up, 'You can see Uncle Moe?'
TJ, 'Sometimes.'
Thomas Jefferson Smith is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Actually, he's a few years younger and more like a little brother.
He stands about 5'10', has an athletic build and dark skin. He keeps his hair cut close to the scalp, has long artistic fingers, a high forehead and intelligent, penetrating brown eyes.
TJ, Nathan Berkowitz and I were in the foster system as children. We were ill mannered, poorly behaved and generally ran wild. If it weren't for Uncle Moe's influence, I doubt that we would ever have come out intact.
It was Uncle Moe that taught both TJ and me about antiques as well as the necessary prerequisites for becoming men. It was through keen insight into human nature that he also steered Nate into his present career and hence, his fortune.
For the lack of a better title, TJ works as my runner. He sniffs out antiques for me to purchase, makes repairs, delivers and picks items up from the auction houses. In other words, pretty much whatever is necessary to make the business work.
Besides Uncle Moe, he is probably the only family that I have.
'Alright, I'm just happy you got here in time. This is what we're going to do. Jaw, you cover them. TJ, grab some of the plastic ties from the stables and secure these two idiots…'
'Hey!' That was Dee.
'As I was saying, secure these two gentlemen, make copies of their id in the office and then call the cops. Kelly and I are going up to the main house. Maybe Mrs. Murphy will make us some breakfast. Get me when the cops arrive.'
Dum, 'I thought that you had nothing to do with the large house.'
'I lied. Kelly, let's get something to eat. Kato, come.'
April 1975 Philadelphia
'How much?'
