Free It Was a Very Bad Year by Robert J. Randisi

fucking great president.’
    â€˜Yeah, I know he does.’
    I could feel Jerry looking at me, but I kept my eyes on the TV. I didn’t want to start talking politics with him. It wasn’t something we had ever done before. And I wouldn’t have been able to explain why I wasn’t feeling much of what everyone else seemed to be feeling. Maybe I was in shock.
    We ended up sitting there, staring at the TV, drinking beer, and before long we got around to business.

NINETEEN
    â€˜ S o what are we gonna do?’ he asked.
    I considered the question, coming as it did about three hours after JFK had been shot. Was that all the President of the United States was worth, three hours of our time? The truth was the nation would be mourning for weeks, maybe months. Even though the nation itself got back to business when Lyndon Baines Johnson had to be sworn in as the President of the United States aboard Air Force One at Love Field Airport, only two hours and eight minutes after JFK’s death.
    â€˜I’m gonna call Danny, see if he’s come up with someplace quiet for us to take Irwin, so we can talk to him properly.’
    â€˜Yeah, but first we got to get him to meet us,’ Jerry said. ‘Where’s that gonna be?’
    â€˜I’m thinking one of those strip clubs on either side of his house.’
    â€˜Don’t you think that’ll be suspicious?’ Jerry asked. ‘He won’t think that’s a coincidence, us wanting to meet him right near his house?’
    â€˜I expect he already knows we were in his house, don’t you?’
    â€˜Well, yeah,’ Jerry said, ‘once he sees those photos missin’ he’s gonna think of you right away.’
    â€˜So I might as well call him and see where we can set up a meet,’ I said.
    â€˜If he still wants to do it.’
    â€˜He’s going to be pissed,’ I said, ‘but he’s also gonna want his ten grand. I’ll give him a call at his studio.’
    I walked to the phone. Jerry got up and lowered the volume on the TV.
    The phone in the studio rang almost eight times. I started to think maybe Irwin was home watching television like everybody else, but right at the start of that eighth ring he picked up.
    â€˜Irwin Studios.’
    â€˜It’s Eddie Gianelli, Barney,’ I said.
    â€˜You sonofabitch!’ he spat. ‘You robbed my house.’
    I could have pointed out that we didn’t steal his house, we simply broke into it, but decided he was already pissed off enough.
    â€˜What do you mean?’ I asked.
    â€˜Come on,’ he said, ‘I know it was you who swiped my pictures. I want ’em back!’
    â€˜We made a deal for the Abby Dalton photos, Barney,’ I said. ‘That’s what I’m calling about. If you lost some others I don’t know anything about it.’
    â€˜I didn’t lose nothin’,’ he said. ‘You stole ’em.’
    â€˜Do you want your ten grand or not?’
    There was a moment of silence and then he said grudgingly, ‘Yeah, I want the money.’
    â€˜All right, so let’s meet.’
    â€˜Where?’
    â€˜Not Clipper’s.’
    â€˜Well, I ain’t lettin’ you pick the place,’ Irwin said.
    â€˜You been watching the TV, Barney? Anyplace we go is gonna be in an uproar. We need someplace quiet.’
    â€˜Then come here.’
    â€˜Your studio?’
    â€˜I’ll put the closed sign out. There won’t be nobody here.’
    â€˜No photo shoot today?’
    â€˜I had a couple, but they both canceled because of the President.’ He sounded miffed that JFK had ruined his day.
    â€˜OK, what time?’
    He thought a moment, then said, ‘Six.’
    â€˜No earlier?’
    â€˜I said six.’
    â€˜Yeah, OK, fine. I’ll be there at six.’
    â€˜Come alone,’ he said, and hung up.
    â€˜When?’ Jerry