started
pleading with me to go back, pointing out that he was an old man, a pathetic
figure with a whiny insistent voice. I should have mercy on him and do what he
wanted or he’d by God horsewhip me.
I told him I wouldn’t even
consider going back unless somebody told me what this whole thing was all
about. When you’ve been played for a sucker as many times as I have, you start
to get a sense of when it’s happening again. It’s like radar or something.
There was something missing from this story, my sucker-sense told me. Mandible
seemed like about the least sentimental guy I’d ever met, and I’ve met some
people who have been dead for a week. So why did he really want this figurine
so much, if it wasn’t sentiment? I wanted the whole story this time. And even
if I got it, I cautioned, I wasn’t promising anything. I wasn’t either.
He blustered for a little while
longer, referring back to the horsewhip once or twice, then finally relented.
“No one outside the family has
ever known the full story,” he said. “You must swear you’ll never reveal a word
of what I’m about to tell you to anyone.”
I said sure, you got it, Ace. And
I meant it, too. But the thing people should know about me when they swear me
to secrecy is that I don’t have a good memory. The first thing I forget is that
it’s a secret. The second thing I forget is who told me this secret. The third
and final thing I forget is the secret itself. So if you tell me something in
the strictest secrecy, you’re guaranteeing that eventually everyone in the
world will know this secret except me.
I probably should have mentioned
this to Mandible, but I really wanted to know what was going on, however
briefly. So I said he could rely on my discretion. He took a deep, reluctant
breath, then began telling me the story.
His grandfather, he told me, was
Thomas Dewey Mandible the 1st. Tom Mandible had only done one bad thing in his
life. But that one bad thing had made him a fortune.
He had been a low-level building
inspector for the city, when he was approached by the Pellagra Crime Family and
offered a series of gigantic bribes to look the other way and whistle when
building permits were issued to a group of disreputable firms that were
secretly owned by the Pellagras. These firms were known for their faulty
construction techniques, shoddy building materials, and spectacular profit
margins.
Their buildings were dangerous,
stupid, and surprisingly inexpensive to construct for something so stupid.
Among their most infamous creations were the futuristic looking, but doomed to
collapse, Skyscraper Of Cards, which was made entirely of giant slabs of
playing card material which were just kind of leaning against each other
hopefully, and the Balloon Building, which was made of 100% balloon alloy.
Their claim that balloon material was 50% stronger than tempered steel, which
explained why they had to charge the city 80% more, was 0% true. In the three
months following its dedication, the building kept slowly getting smaller and
losing its shape, until finally somebody stepped on it.
The Pellagras were at the
forefront of what has been called the Golden Age Of Criminal Architecture.
Their buildings didn’t stay up for long; some only lasted a couple of days
before the wind knocked them over, or some wise guy kicked the first story out
from under the building. But that didn’t bother the Pellagras. They’d already
gotten their money. And it certainly didn’t bother Thomas Dewey Mandible The
1st. He just took the money, stamped the permits, then chuckled all the way to
the bank. But not to a bank constructed by the Pellagra family.
He became very rich very fast.
After this, he never did another dishonest thing in his life, partly because he
didn’t have to, but mostly because of vanity. Now that he was rich, he wanted
to be respected, even beloved, by all.
So he built libraries, gave the
city art museums, erected statues of honest and semi-honest
pleading with me to go back, pointing out that he was an old man, a pathetic
figure with a whiny insistent voice. I should have mercy on him and do what he
wanted or he’d by God horsewhip me.
I told him I wouldn’t even
consider going back unless somebody told me what this whole thing was all
about. When you’ve been played for a sucker as many times as I have, you start
to get a sense of when it’s happening again. It’s like radar or something.
There was something missing from this story, my sucker-sense told me. Mandible
seemed like about the least sentimental guy I’d ever met, and I’ve met some
people who have been dead for a week. So why did he really want this figurine
so much, if it wasn’t sentiment? I wanted the whole story this time. And even
if I got it, I cautioned, I wasn’t promising anything. I wasn’t either.
He blustered for a little while
longer, referring back to the horsewhip once or twice, then finally relented.
“No one outside the family has
ever known the full story,” he said. “You must swear you’ll never reveal a word
of what I’m about to tell you to anyone.”
I said sure, you got it, Ace. And
I meant it, too. But the thing people should know about me when they swear me
to secrecy is that I don’t have a good memory. The first thing I forget is that
it’s a secret. The second thing I forget is who told me this secret. The third
and final thing I forget is the secret itself. So if you tell me something in
the strictest secrecy, you’re guaranteeing that eventually everyone in the
world will know this secret except me.
I probably should have mentioned
this to Mandible, but I really wanted to know what was going on, however
briefly. So I said he could rely on my discretion. He took a deep, reluctant
breath, then began telling me the story.
His grandfather, he told me, was
Thomas Dewey Mandible the 1st. Tom Mandible had only done one bad thing in his
life. But that one bad thing had made him a fortune.
He had been a low-level building
inspector for the city, when he was approached by the Pellagra Crime Family and
offered a series of gigantic bribes to look the other way and whistle when
building permits were issued to a group of disreputable firms that were
secretly owned by the Pellagras. These firms were known for their faulty
construction techniques, shoddy building materials, and spectacular profit
margins.
Their buildings were dangerous,
stupid, and surprisingly inexpensive to construct for something so stupid.
Among their most infamous creations were the futuristic looking, but doomed to
collapse, Skyscraper Of Cards, which was made entirely of giant slabs of
playing card material which were just kind of leaning against each other
hopefully, and the Balloon Building, which was made of 100% balloon alloy.
Their claim that balloon material was 50% stronger than tempered steel, which
explained why they had to charge the city 80% more, was 0% true. In the three
months following its dedication, the building kept slowly getting smaller and
losing its shape, until finally somebody stepped on it.
The Pellagras were at the
forefront of what has been called the Golden Age Of Criminal Architecture.
Their buildings didn’t stay up for long; some only lasted a couple of days
before the wind knocked them over, or some wise guy kicked the first story out
from under the building. But that didn’t bother the Pellagras. They’d already
gotten their money. And it certainly didn’t bother Thomas Dewey Mandible The
1st. He just took the money, stamped the permits, then chuckled all the way to
the bank. But not to a bank constructed by the Pellagra family.
He became very rich very fast.
After this, he never did another dishonest thing in his life, partly because he
didn’t have to, but mostly because of vanity. Now that he was rich, he wanted
to be respected, even beloved, by all.
So he built libraries, gave the
city art museums, erected statues of honest and semi-honest
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