If you didn’t read the first installment of Second Chance you might want to start there.
Sandy couldn’t tell me a thing about Walter, all she knew was his last name, Solonik. She didn’t know where he lived, and wasn’t sure what he did for a living! “Wait a minute,” I said, “Didn’t you say he was a Wall Street broker?” “Well,” she said, “he has a sexy accent, is rich as hell, loves spending money on me, and he once said something about Wall Street. What else do I need to know about him?”
My last job was as a bartender at the “Whole Lee Kow.” A tavern/dump downtown that had a clientele that was one-step removed from being homeless. I know, sounds like a great place to work, right? Well, they paid in cash, and didn’t demand that you work on a regular schedule. If you’re wondering how I was fired from such a great job, I’ll tell you, I have a slight anger management problem. Ok, so maybe slight is an exaggeration. It doesn’t take much to set me off. Selby is a regular at the Kow and he loves to push my buttons, and he’s good at it. The other night he was on a roll, bragging to me about some girl he met, and how he really messed with her head. He somehow got her to believe that he was a big shot golf pro at the country club and had promised her that he could get her a job working in the restaurant there. Well, to make a long story short, he ended up leaving her, half-naked and stoned, out on some country road in the middle of the night to find her own way home. I was just getting ready to serve him another bottle of Bud when he was telling the story, instead, I jumped over the bar, hit him with the bottle and ended up getting a couple of good licks before I was hauled out of there, and fired by Wong Kow.
The one thing about the kind of people that hang out at the Kow is that they know what’s going on around town. So, I went there to talk to a couple of the regulars about Walter. It ended up being a lot easier than I thought it’d be. It seems that Walter Solonik was a rich man, a very rich man. And how he came by his money wasn’t hard to find out either, he was a thief, not an ordinary, run of the mill thief that would break into people’s homes while they slept. He’s a Russian mobster who lives in the U.S. and is active in all types of white collar crime. “This is not someone you want to be messin’ with,” Sergio said while he glanced around the room nervously. Sergio was once a Wall Street broker before the market crashed. Now he lived in the back of the bar and cleaned up the place for beer. “I heard that once a guy accidentally stepped on Walter’s foot in a crowed bar and the next day he was jumped in an alley and his foot was chopped off!”
Maybe I should re-think taking this second chance.
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