JUST ANOTHER DAY
By AEIU
Richard Arbitridge admitted to himself that he was out of his depth. In the years that he had worked as an insurance adjuster, he thought he had seen and handled every type of claim imaginable but nothing had prepared him for his company's latest client.
"Mr. McCormick, can I get you anything before we start?" he asked in a conciliatory manner to the young man who sat in front of him.
"Well, if it's not too much trouble," McCormick ventured, "how about taking off this hood and untying me?"
Arbitridge sighed heavily; he had not planned to mention those little faux pas unless the client brought it up. He had stressed to his associates, Bubba and Wally (AKA The Wall) Benkowski, that Mr. McCormick was the friend of a friend and, in this particular instance, the term adjuster did not refer to anything they would be doing to the client's major limbs or face.
Arbitridge nodded and The Wall lumbered over and cut the ropes that constrained the young man to the chair. He frowned as The Wall pulled off the hood with more vigor than called for but he chalked it up to disappointment for him not being allowed the opportunity to facilitate the meeting with his unique interviewing techniques. Arbitridge mused, that perhaps, it was time to loan The Wall to the Collection Section of the business and allow him to work off some of his high spirits.
"Wow!" McCormick said warily as he massaged feelings back into his wrist. "I've never had that work before. So, what can I do for you Mister…"
The well-dressed man in the double-breasted held out one immaculately manicured hand and said, "You may call me Mr. Arbitridge. I represent the offices of Fast Eddy Martoni Insurance Company. I asked for this meeting to discuss your recent series of automotive claims."
McCormick froze just short of clasping the man's hand; he sank back in his seat and looked around nervously, chiefly at the room's only door where Bubba and The Wall stood.
He thought back to that fateful day just a few weeks ago. Life is hard for a car owned by a parolee conscripted into service by an ex-judge with a Lone Ranger fixation and a roomful of files of criminals that slipped through the cracks of justice. His automotive insurance had been canceled, yet again, and he fixed the blame solely on Hardcastle who insisted on putting his car in danger. He had been just about ready to declare the car off-limits for crime fighting when the judge informed him that he had found an insurance company that specialized in high risk claims. He hadn't liked the idea, the name of the company brought to mind men in double-breasted suits carrying violin cases with associates named Bubba, but Hardcastle had promised to make the payments and pay the detectable when the next inevitable happened.
"I told Hardcase this was going to happen," he complained. "But oh no, he knows best. Full coverage he said, no questions asked he said."
"Do not misunderstand me," Arbitridge said in an appeasing manner with a smile that caused some people's blood to run cold. "We, at Fast Eddy Martoni Insurance, pride ourselves on our motto; 'We don't ask a lot of questions'. Most of our clients appreciate the unique niche that we fill in the business and are not likely to file false or frivolous claims. A recent review of your case revealed an influx of claims of an interesting nature. Thus my supervisor felt it behooved the interest of our stockholders to bend the rules and make some general inquiries."
"I'm really not sure what I can to tell you," McCormick said nervously.
From their position by the door, The Wall and Bubba began to crack their knuckles, loudly.
"What do you want to know?" McCormick said brightly with a dimpled smile.
"Perhaps we could go over the event of last Monday as that seems to be a significant day for your claims."
"I guess it started in the morning, the judge was telling me that the gutters on the house needed to be cleaned and told me to get right on it. He said there was prime fertile farm land in them and if I didn't get it done right away, I would have to rotate the crops in them. I still don't know what he meant by that."
"Continue," instructed Arbitridge as he gestured for the young man to speed up the story.
"It was probably about forty-five minutes later, when the milkman got there. I noticed he was late and he wasn't our regular guy. I shouted hello and asked where Mike was but the guy just grunted at me. I didn't think anything about it except that he was a little unfriendly. Next thing I knew, he pulled a gun out from his truck and started firing. I ducked behind my car."
"From the roof?" asked a confused Arbitridge.
"The roof? Why would I be out on the roof?"
"Cleaning the gutters. Did not your employer tell you that you needed to clean them?"
"He says that every morning. I was in the driveway washing the Coyote."
"You were bathing a wolf when the milkman tried to kill you?"
"No. My car is called the Coyote X. I was washing it when a man pretending to be the milkman tried to shoot me."
"And why was he pretending to be the milkman?"
"It turned out to be part of a kidnapping plot against our neighbor. They figured they'd put their man in as a milkman, have him make a few deliveries so everything looked normal, grab the guy's wife, hold her hostage and finish up the route so no one would be suspicious. They figured no one really looks at the milkman."
"Except for you."
"I know the guy. His name is Mikey. He's a great guy. He's been trying to get up the nerve to ask this woman who works at the milk distribution point out but he's too shy."
"How interesting. Now get back to the milkman with the gun."
"Not much else to tell. The fake milkman took a couple of shots at me, the judge came out with his shotgun, he got the drop on the milkman, the police were called out, and we found Mikey and Trixie tied up back at the office. Mikey said it gave him and Trixie a chance to talk. It seemed that they had a lot in common. They're going out this Friday."
"How lovely for both of them," Arbitridge said with a deadpanned face. "So am I to understand that the fake milkman did all this damage."
"Oh no," McCormick said. "He only did the two holes to the passenger door."
"Then please continue your story."
"So the judge and I had finished making our statement at the police headquarters and were headed home. We were stopped at a light when the judge suddenly yelled out."
"Then what?"
"As soon as the judge yelled out, the car in the other lane started up and drove through the red light. Then the judge was yelling at me to catch the guy."
"And what did you do?"
"I started after him. I asked the judge why and he told me that he recognized the driver as a man he had seen walking out of a courtroom, twenty years ago after being sentenced to life plus five hundred year. I asked him if he was sure it was the right guy, when someone in the car started shooting at us."
"So naturally you stopped and allowed the fine men in blue to do the job they are paid to do."
McCormick blinked as he considered the novelty of such a suggestion.
"No," he admitted. "We were right behind them then the judge pulled out his gun and shot back. I thought I had them boxed in when they tried to escape by driving on the pier but they ended up in the water. It turned out the judge was right about the guy driving the car, he was an escaped convict with mob ties."
"Yes, said Arbitridge. "The Board and I saw the chase on the television. So you are the reason Mr. Collins and his colleague missed their delivery appointment."
"Mr. Collins and his associate?" McCormick asked apprehensively as he thought back on the two suitcases filled with money which had been rescued out of the submerged car. "Did you know them?"
"They were business associates," Arbitridge said in a cold voice while Bubba and The Wall audibly growled behind him. "Their contributions to the industry will be missed."
"McCormick held up his hands in an appeasing manner as he tried to smile disarmingly. "Hey guy, I'm just the driver."
Arbitridge shrugged, as they were gotten off point of the meeting. McCormick breathed a silent sigh of relief as Bubba and The Wall stopped their advance and returned to their position near the door.
"And your unfortunate run-in with Mr. Collins resulted in what damage to your car?"
"Not too bad really," said McCormick. "That's where I lost the passenger side mirror and I got a crack in the windshield, plus a couple of more bullet holes."
"You had an eventful day. I am surprised that you did not return to your home and stay there."
"You know I would have but the damage was mostly cosmetic and I had promised Howard that I'd drop him off so he could meet up with his girlfriend."
"Howard?"
"He's the mechanic who fixes my car."
"You seem to be good friends with Howard," Arbitridge said speculatively as he considered a possible insurance scam being run by the two men.
"Well, I'm at his business a lot."
Arbitridge shrugged as he conceded the point.
"It so happened that Cheryl, that's Howard's girlfriend, was at her W.W.V.P.X.B. meeting."
"W.W.V.B.X.B.? I am not familiar with that particular group."
"Women With Violent and Possessive Ex-Boyfriends."
Arbitridge arched his eyebrow again.
"Yeah," McCormick shrugged, "you think she might have mentioned something like that earlier. Howard had just gotten out of the car and gave Cheryl a hug when this guy comes out of nowhere with a baseball bat and started hitting the car. By the time I stopped him, he had already taken a few good whacks at the hood."
"Is he the one that slashed the tire?"
"No," admitted McCormick as his face began to flush with embarrassment. "That was Tina. When I was turning Cheryl's ex-boyfriend into the police, she happened by, saw my car, and slashed the tire."
"For any particular reason?"
"We went out, I said I'd call, and I didn't."
"And the dent on the roof? Was that caused by the lovely Tina?"
"No that was caused by the basketball."
"Basketball?"
"Don't ask."
Arbitridge sighed again; something about this client seemed to make it a chronic condition. They were still only partially through the list of recent damage claims for the one vehicle. They all seemed to be legitimate under the conditions of the young man's insurance policy but he hadn't seen that many claims since Crazy Tommy declared war on the Barboni Family and that was to a fleet of cars.
"Well, Mr. McCormick," Arbitridge said as he signaled for his associates to come forward, "it appears that all of your paperwork is in order. I will have my men return you to your abode."
Large predatory grins broke out on the faces of the large men at the door as they grabbed McCormick's arms and yanked him to his feet. McCormick squeaked in protest as he was dragged toward the door.
"Wait," Arbitridge ordered as the procession came to an immediate halt. "Let me rephrase that. You two are to allow Mr. McCormick to walk to your vehicle and get into the back seat of the car, under his own power. Do not, and let me repeat this; do not put him in the trunk. You are to drive him to the place that you picked him up, stop the car, and allow him to get out of the car. Then you are to come back here. Do you understand?"
Disappointment loomed over the mugs of Bubba and The Wall as they shook their head in understanding. While relief broke out on McCormick's face as his arms were released.
"Oh, Mr. McCormick," Arbitridge said as Mark was nearly out the door.
"Yes."
"Have you ever considered getting into a safer line of work?"
"Well, sometimes you find the job and sometimes the job finds you."
Arbitridge chuckled to himself as McCormick gave him a cheeky two finger salute and slipped out of the door. He admired the young man's nerve, lesser men would have been quaking in their boots on being brought in for an audit by his company, but the kid seemed to be made of sterner stuff.
Despite the sizable deductible and the large monthly payments, it appeared that insuring the Coyote was going to be a losing proposition for his company. But it promised to be amusing and that was worth a couple of dollars, as long as it stayed a couple of dollars.
Arbitridge gathered up his papers and walked into the hallway. He ran into Bubba who was returning to the room.
"We have a problem, boss," Bubba said uneasily.
"Problem?"
"Yeah. We took that MCormick out to the car like you said, on his own power. As we were getting to the car, we hear screeching brakes and saw a flash of red. Then someone yelled for us to throw our weapon down. Now I blame our exuberant response on the on-going difficulties we have been having with Guevere's boys but it turned out that it was McCormick's employer who was seeking the return of his employee."
Arbitridge pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming on.
Damages?" he asked.
"Strangely enough," Bubba answered, "there were no injuries but that McCormick guy is asking for another claim form.
THE END
