Chapter 7 – Gainful Employment

Tim McGee

"Right on time," Jimmy said as he and Tony entered the office. "But then again, I wouldn't expect anything less of you."

"Of course, Mr. Napolitano," he replied as he looked around. Jimmy maintained an office in a non-descript building just outside of the central office district. He'd bet that most people never suspected that Napolitano, who rented the office under a front company, worked from their neighborhood. It was a nice, respectable neighborhood filled with a mix of offices, homes, small businesses and restaurants.

Tony nodded and left the foyer while Tim looked around. While nicely decorated, it wasn't overly elaborate. In fact, for someone such as Jimmy Napolitano, it would be considered modest. The entry way held a desk where a young woman sat answering the phone. A few potted plants were scattered about the room and a couple of chairs were pushed against the wall by the door.

"This is Miss Holly Stegman," he said introducing Tim to the young woman. She nodded. "Holly this is Thom Gemcity. He's our new accountant. If he needs anything, see that he gets it."

"Yes, Mr. Napolitano," she replied. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Gemcity."

He nodded and followed Jimmy down the hall to a small room where several men were scattered around sofas and plush chairs, including Tony. Some were talking softly among themselves while Tony was scanning the morning paper. "These are my personal escorts. You need to go somewhere, they'll go with you." Tim nodded as the men looked up at him. But he didn't get a chance to say anything before Jimmy continued to another office.

"A couple of my business managers work from this office. You'll meet them in time. You met my lawyer, Mr. Clare," he said as they stopped at the office which held the man he had met the previous Saturday."

"A pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Gemcity," Mr. Clare said as he stood. "You look well rested this time."

"Well a proper night's sleep helps," he replied even as he felt subconscious of himself.

Mr. Clare was once again dressed in a fine suit as was Mr. Napolitano. His suit, while immaculately clean and pressed, felt cheap in comparison even though he was wearing his best suit. He made a mental note to get some new suits made as soon as possible. He had enough money saved that should serve as a down payment until he received his first pay.

"Of course," Mr. Clare replied. "I'm sure we will talk more later."

He nodded as they continued on.

"As I said, you'll meet the others in time," Jimmy said as they made their way to another office. The curtains were all closed and the room was only lit by a pair of desk lamps. A small man was bent over a large ledger and several more were scattered around the desk. The room didn't have much of a décor. The walls were lined with shelves that were filled with ledgers and books. It looked more like a storage room than an office. "But you'll be working closely with Mr. Matteson. He heads up the accounts for my importing businesses, factories and the like."

He looked at Jimmy and mentally translated what he was saying. Matteson ran the legal books.

"Dale," Jimmy said as he knocked on the doorframe. Dale jolted and looked up at them like a landed fish. He knew he didn't have an olive complexion but he looked downright tan compared to Dale. "I'd like you to meet Mr. Thom Gemcity," Jimmy said as Dale hastily stood. "He's my new personal accountant."

"A pleasure," Dale said stammering badly.

"Same here," he replied as he shook Dale's hand.

Dale was short, slightly round and looked like he was ready to pass out. Or hyperventilate. Or both. He was looking at Jimmy almost in terror but from Jimmy's indifference, he had a feeling that this wasn't unusual. Then again, Dale was meeting the man who was replacing someone who had been brutally murdered. If he wasn't that person, he might be afraid of someone willing to take on that job too.

"I'm sure you two will get to know each other pretty well," Jimmy said. "Dale knows his numbers. If you have any questions regarding his side of the business, he'll be able to help you out." Dale nodded fervently. "Let's show you your office," Jimmy said. Dale waved faintly before he sank back into his chair, seemingly in relief that Jimmy had left.

"Is he all right?" he asked as they returned to the hall.

Jimmy chuckled and looked back at him. "Dale?"

"Yeah," he said as he jerked his thumb back to the office they had just left. "He looks as white as a ghost."

"Pale Dale didn't come by his nickname for nothing," Jimmy said with a chuckle. "He always looks like that." He frowned. That wasn't exactly reassuring. "Which is why he didn't get your job. I needed someone with the intestinal fortitude to handle this difficult job. You proved you had that at our interview."

Dropping it for now, he followed Jimmy to the end of the office building. An ornate door was at the end of the hall and a plain, almost utilitarian door was to the left.

"This is your office," Jimmy said as he opened the door and motioned for him to enter.

Tim stepped inside and looked around. There was a large wooden desk that occupied most of the room and a couple of chairs. One wall consisted of built in book shelves, which were filled with what looked to be law books and some smaller ledgers. A couple of filing cabinets were shoved into a corner. A coat tree was located by the door and a second, more decorative door was located to the right. Despite the fact that there were no windows, the room was well lit.

He removed his hat and idly wondered how many people had walked past the non-descript door and had never suspected the keys to Jimmy's criminal empire were within? If he hadn't known better, he would have expected this windowless office was a broom closet, which he supposed was the point.

"I suppose you're wondering why you don't get a window," Jimmy said.

"Actually, I was wondering why the place is so bare. I've seen tramp steamers with more inviting decors." Jimmy chuckled at that. "I presumed I didn't get a window because you didn't want someone spying on me from the outside," he said as he hung his hat on the coat tree before he took off his overcoat and added it to the coat rack.

"That's a good presumption, my boy," he said. "You'll find records of all the legit businesses in there but you don't need to worry about those. Dale keeps those up to date," he said jabbing his thumb towards the filing cabinets and then towards several shelves. "The others are here."

Tim watched as Jimmy walked over to the book shelves and pulled a book back. Obviously, the book was attached to a lever because suddenly a section of the bookshelves slid forward enough that Jimmy could push it to the side. He looked around Jimmy but only saw a bare section of wall. Jimmy stuck his hand into a knothole and suddenly a door opened to reveal a large sturdy safe.

"Clever," he remarked.

"This is the combination," Jimmy said handing him a slip of paper. "Once you memorize it, burn it."

"Of course," Tim replied as he pocketed the slip of paper.

When Jimmy opened the safe, he saw several large and heavy leather-bound ledgers and numerous documents in neatly labeled folders that he presumed were deeds or sensitive business contracts. Jimmy pulled two ledgers out of the safe and deposited them on the desk. He then closed the secret panel and pushed the book case back in place.

"If, God forbid, the Feds should show up, this is what you do. Pull the book straight up. That disconnects the lever that opens the case. It can't be reconnected without some wire and some finagling so don't disconnect it unless you have to. But that'll keep the Feds out of places they shouldn't be," Jimmy said. "It's worked every time they've stopped by for a visit."

Tim nodded, impressed. He followed Jimmy as he took a seat behind the large desk. Jimmy opened a book and presented it to Tim. Tim scanned them with an expert eye. He found one problem.

"These are in code," he said. It wasn't a surprise but the words were out of his mouth before he thought it better to not say them aloud.

"So, you noticed," Jimmy replied wryly.

Tim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You expect me to run your books without knowing what things are?"

"For now," Jimmy replied standing up. "Trust is earned, Timothy. Besides, if you are as smart as I think you are, it won't take you long to figure it out. I'll be through there should you need me."

"Right," Tim said as he took his seat behind the desk. Napolitano entered his office through the side door. As Jimmy shut the door, he noted the slight smile on his face.

Clearly this was a test.

Tim blinked slowly and took a deep breath, steeling himself for some complicated deductions.

He turned the ledger to the beginning, noting that the dates went back as far as a year ago. He then flipped through the pages and noted that the book was nearly full. The second book was nearly empty. A few quick comparisons led him to realize that there were a few long-term ops transferred to the new book while others were finished out in the old book.

Tim looked around his desk and opened a few drawers. Aside from a couple of paperclips and a Victor Adding Machine in the bottom drawer, it was empty. Jimmy really had purged everything of Terry's. He idly wondered if it was because Jimmy didn't care to keep any reminders of his former friend's treachery.

Sighing, he picked up the phone and was met with Holly's voice.

"Can I help you, Mr. Gemcity?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Stegman. I need some pencils and paper," he said.

"Right away," she replied. A moment later she appeared with several pads of paper and a stack of sharpened pencils.

He nodded and took them from her. Over the course of the day, he worked through the books until he understood them. The books that Napolitano had brought out from the safe were just the summary books that kept track of all the business lines. The other ledgers tracked the separate businesses in more detail. Before long, the big desk was covered with various ledgers as he worked through the numbers.

The math was complex and it was easy for him to see how Spooner had thought he could embezzle from Naps. But despite what Naps would like him to believe, Tim knew he understood the books and likely kept an eye on Terry for just that occasion where he might get greedy.

As he worked through the books, he was able to work out what some of the notations stood for. If he was correct with his assumptions, Napolitano had income from hundreds of clubs, prostitution rings and protection schemes. Then there were expenditures for what he suspected were payments to dozens of officials that were being bribed to look the other way. Unfortunately, he had no names to go with the payments although, some of the payments were fairly generous so Tim assumed that they were well placed politicians or law enforcement officers, potentially including the Prohibition Unit's mole.

Silently, he was amazed. Napolitano's operation was well beyond what they had anticipated. Tony and Gibbs had been inside Napolitano's network for months now but according to these books they had only found the tip of the iceberg.

He was going to have his work cut out for him but that could wait for another day. Now that he understood the legers, he started to check the most recent math. The handwriting was different than Terry's and he wondered if Naps had been keeping the books as of late. He shook his head. Whoever had been making notations had made several math errors. He corrected the mistakes and found that Jimmy was short.

Tim looked up as the door between his office and Jimmy's opened. He glanced at his wristwatch. It was already five thirty. He had worked the whole day straight through without stopping for lunch.

He frowned. He had a bad habit of becoming too engrossed in his work. And without a window to note the passage of time, he hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"How's it going kid?" Naps asked as he looked down at the scattered papers on his desk. "You've been awfully quiet in here. I was beginning to think that you jumped ship."

"Of course not, Mr. Napolitano," he said. "I've been checking through your books and I've got some good news and some bad news for you," he said as he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. After replacing his glasses, he said, "The good news is that I understand the books, even if I don't know your code."

"Good," Mr. Napolitano replied, pleased. "So, what's the bad news?"

"Your recent accountant made some mistakes," he said.

"Arithmetic was never a strong suit of mine," Naps replied confirming that he was the owner of the different handwriting. "What's the damage?"

"You're twenty-five dollars and sixty-four cents poorer than you thought you were," Tim replied.

Napolitano blinked at him then laughed heartily. "Is that all? That's chump change."

"Perhaps," he said as he began to gather up his notes. He walked over to the bookcase, pulled the proper book and opened the safe, depositing his notes inside along with the ledgers. "But mistakes can snowball if you don't catch them early enough. Did you know that there was an adding machine in the drawer?"

"I knew it was there but how can that thing know that one plus one is two?" Jimmy asked motioning towards the machine in the drawer.

"Mechanics," he said with a smile.

Jimmy snorted. "I'd rather use my own capo!" Jimmy looked towards the drawer. "I suppose since you knew about the machine, you'd rather do the same."

He closed the safe and the secret door. "Considering that today's exercise was more about puzzles than math, I was better off doing the work by hand. I may use it once I get into the meat of the job. I gather that I'll be receiving receipts periodically."

"Yeah," Naps replied. "Weekly. Gotta keep a close eye on things." He nodded. "The social clubs drop off statements of earnings on Tuesdays. The rest of the payments and earning statements come in Wednesday through Friday."

"And on Mondays?" he asked.

"Dale drops off the receipts for legal businesses," Napolitano replied. "I told him to hold off on this week's numbers, so you could get a feel for things."

"I appreciate that," he said grateful that he hadn't been expected to do any real work on his first day.

"He keeps a tidy set of books," Jimmy said. "So Monday is your quiet day."

"I'll consider myself warned," Tim said dryly as he collected his coat and hat.

Jimmy chuckled. "How's the new place? You find it to your liking?"

"Very much," he replied. "It is considerably better than my last apartment."

"Now you know how the other half lives," Jimmy said with a chuckle. He nodded even as he bit back a retort. While he was happy to be living in a better place, he also knew that no one wanted to live in a place like he had left behind. But many people these days couldn't afford anything better. "And what of DiNozzo? He going to work out?"

"We've had less than forty-eight hours to get to know each other," he said incredulously. Jimmy frowned. "I don't mean that as a bad thing," he said hastily. "But there is bound to be an adjustment period when you suddenly move in with someone you just met. We're still getting to know each other but I think things will work out."

"Good," Jimmy said pleased. "But you let me know if they don't. I can find someone else who can do the job."

"But not as well," he inferred.

Jimmy chuckled. "No one can accuse you of being slow on the uptake," Jimmy said. He sobered. "I picked DiNozzo because he's the best. His personality might be something to be desired but he's damn good at his job."

He nodded. "In the interest in having the best man for the job, I think I can put up with the personality quirks. Should things become intolerable, however, I will let you know."

"Good," Jimmy said.

"I will see you in the morning," Tim said.

"Count on it," Jimmy said as he watched Tim leave. "Oh and Tim. Feel free to decorate any way you like." Tim paused and looked around at his barren office. He nodded as Mr. Napolitano left.

He walked down the hall where he found Tony still waiting in the lounge. When Tony saw him, he got up, pulled on his coat and hat and followed Tim outside. Tony led him over to a shiny blue car.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Our new ride," Tony said with a grin. "1931 Ford Model A Deluxe Roadster. Forty horsepower, four cylinders, and genuine leather seats," he said, emphasizing every syllable of 'genuine.' "It gets up to sixty-five miles per hour."

He had to admit, it was sharp looking. He liked everything about it from the shiny blue paint to the white-walled tires and the tan fold down roof.

"I didn't realize we'd be getting a car to go with our apartment," he said as he admired the vehicle.

"Me neither," Tony said with a grin. "But when I talked to the guys about transportation, they told me Jimmy had taken care of it. And then this beauty turned up. It even has a heater!"

Tim looked at Tony. He distinctly looked like a kid in a candy store.

"What? Have a thing against being warm and toasty while cruising around the city? That heater isn't standard you know. Mr. Napolitano had that installed for you. Custom work," Tony said.

"It's not that," he replied. "I was just wondering if you can drive this thing?" Tim asked smiling mischievously even as he admired the car. He had never ridden in a car this nice let alone owned one. His father had owned a second-hand Model T when he had been a kid stationed in San Diego but that old Tin Lizzy had nothing on this car.

"Can I drive?" Tony asked indignantly. "Of course I can drive."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Tim said as he looked over the roof at Tony. "Just remember that you aren't supposed to get me killed."