George locked up on Front Street in front of the Convention Center. There were always people milling around there, so the bike would be safe. Even so, he took the seat with him just in case. From there, he walked up Front to East Side Mario’s, a bar slash restaurant near the end of University Avenue which catered to tourists and people downtown to see the Leafs, Raptors or Blue Jays. Martin was already seated inside with a beer in front of him, he could see, so he bypassed the hostess stand and joined him at the table.
“Hey, long time no see.”
“Hi, George. How’s it going?”
“It’s going all right. How about your day? Get any better? Oh, hi. Yeah, can I get a Pellegrino with ice? Thanks.”
Martin raised his glass to him. “So, how’s the courier business these days?”
“Tough business lately. Gotten very cutthroat.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“Um. A lot of new players. Fierce competition.”
“I guess it’s becoming a pretty big business. I seem to see more of you all the time. And all year round, too.”
“Yep.”
“What’s it like riding the bikes in winter?”
“Winter is just like any other time of the year, except the cars go a little slower and are even more unpredictable. It’s not a problem for a bike, though. My tires are better than a car’s for snow and ice.”
“Wow. Still, I guess it’s pretty scary sometimes.”
“Just about any day of the year can be scary.”
“So, how did you get into that line of work, if you don’t mind my asking. Have I asked you that before?”
“I look like I’m too smart to be riding bike for a living? Thanks, I am. I got my degree in architecture from U of T, but the job market was too tight when I graduated. I started out couriering for architects, but eventually I was just a bicycle courier full time.”
“Nothing wrong with being a courier. I was just curious.”
“I know. I love my job. You couldn’t chain me to a desk for twice my salary.”
“They don’t chain us anymore. It’s a magnetic constriction collar these days.”
“Oh, so that’s what keeps those white shirt collars so stiff. What about you? How did you get into insurance?”
“Family. Nobody ever grows up wanting to go into insurance. You either know someone in the business, or you get in by accident, right out of school or something, and you never get out. It’s not so bad. I actually kind of like my job most of the time.”
“That’s not a bad thing. It’s important to like what you do.”
“Yeah, I get to flex my brain muscles once in awhile. And work with numbers, which I’m good at.”
They talked about university for awhile, relating stories from their undergrad days. George was feeling fidgety, his mind often drifting away from the conversation. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was because he was so used to being at the bar at this time every day. Maybe it was hunger.
“Did we have menus at some point?” said George. “I’m kind of hungry. You want to get dinner, since we’re here?”
“Um… sure. I could go for that. Where’s the guy?”
“I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll grab some menus on my way back.”
George got up and went to the front of the bar near the washrooms and phoned home. Nobody home, or nobody answering? The machine was on, so he left a message. Short and to the point. Just where he was and that he’d be late. Then he found a couple of menus at the hostess station and headed back to the table.
“Here you go. What do we feel like tonight?”
“They usually do a good steak here. New York strip?”
“I do not partake of the flesh of cattle.”
“No steak?”
“No cows, or pigs, or beasts of any sort.”
“You? A vegetarian?”
“Yep.”
“Interesting. I never would have pictured that about you. So what made you give up the meat?”
“You mean, is it a religion thing?”
“I hadn’t even thought of that. Usually it’s a cruelty thing, I’m guessing.”
“I just feel better when I eat this way. Why do you eat meat?”
“Because it tastes so damn good. Nice juicy steak with garlic and mushrooms. Mmm. Tell me you don’t miss it sometimes.”
“Never. I never really liked meat when I was a kid. I was always a little bit grossed out by it. Only ate the most processed kinds of meat I could find. Nothing off the bone. And then when I did some reading on the subject, and talked to some vegetarians I knew, I was convinced.”
“So are you one of the ones who eat cheese and eggs, or are you a vay-gun?”
“I’m mostly vee-gan.”
“So you can have cheese?”
“I can have whatever I want. They’re my rules. But I mostly stay away from all animal products if I can.”
“All this talk about steaks is making me really hungry. Where the hell is the guy?”
“You made the classic mistake of being hungry. Don’t you know that hungry people are invisible to waiters? They can only see bitchy people. Hey, buddy! Little help over here? Yes. We’ve decided to eat. I’ll have the ‘Angel Hair Primavera’ and the salad to start. No cheese, thanks.”
“And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have the New York strip with the salad as well. And another beer.”
“Another Pellegrino, sir?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be right back with your bread and salad.”
Martin drank off the remains of his beer. “So, is Gina a vegetarian, too?”
“Yeah, she is.”
“That must make things easier.”
“I guess so.”
“So how long have you lived together?”
“Since university, which is a fair few years.”
“Any talk of marriage?”
“Bite your tongue. What about you, when are you getting married?”
“Married? I’d need a girlfriend first.”
“You’re not seeing anyone?”
“No, not right now. Not for a long time, really.”
“Anything in particular responsible for the dry spell?”
“Or anyone? Yeah, I’ve had a couple of relationships end badly.”
“Nothing ends well. It is either good and keeps working, or it ends. Usually badly.”
“I suppose. But everything seemed to be going along so well with Jenny. We were seeing each other all the time...”
Martin went on, but George wasn’t following what he was saying. He thought of waking up that morning with Gina gone, and that feeling in the pit of his stomach. His salad wasn’t exactly going down easy. She was probably home by now and had got his message. She had probably expected him to come right home so they could talk about it. Like that was a scene he was looking forward to. She only wanted to hear one thing, and he wanted, what? To stall? To agree? He couldn’t face it. He needed time to think things through for himself first. He nodded at Martin in agreement.
“And so, that’s when she said that it was over. I wasn’t consulted. We’re still ‘friends.’ We’re just the kind of friends who haven’t spoken once since that night.”
“That’s a tough one. But what about getting back up on the bike and all that?”
“Why bother? I have no luck with women. I’ve seen how it ends, and it’s not worth it. Besides, I’m not exactly dating material.”
“What’s luck got to do with it? It’s all about self-esteem, my man. You’ve got to love yourself before someone else can. And I can hear a lot of negativity coming from you.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“How are your dinners, gentlemen? Can I get either of you another drink?”
“Great, yeah, another Pellegrino.”
“And another beer, sir?”
“No, make it a ginger ale. Diet.”
“We have Diet Coke.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.”
George took some bread to dip in the garlicky oil at the bottom of his bowl. “So, anyway. What went wrong with your day? You were saying, back at the office.”
“Oh, one of my risks had a loss.”
“Hold up. Risks? Loss? What are we talkin’ about here?”
“Yeah, sorry, insurance terms. A risk is a policy or insured location and a loss is a claim that we have to pay out money on.”
“Don’t you guys have to pay claims all the time?”
“Yeah, but this one bothers me. It’s been kind of... suspicious. Right from the start. Of course, nobody else sees it that way.”
“Suspicious how?”
“First of all, the broker went over my head when I’d already said no to writing it over the phone with little or no information. Then the inspector went out to question the guy about what kind of products they were making and who their customers were, and he was practically thrown out of the place. The guy acted like someone with something to hide. Wouldn’t give us any specifics as to what he was making, and said his customer list was confidential.”
“So?”
“Well, first of all, insurance is based on the principle of utmost good faith, and that means, among other things, not hiding anything from us.”
“So? Lot’s of guys are paranoid about keeping their customers secret. I’ve gotten a lot of flak over envelopes that have come open en route, and guys thinking I’m into industrial espionage or something. Trying to steal their customers away somehow.”
“Yes, but we are insuring their products liability. That means that if they are making cribs, and some 6-month-old baby gets his head stuck in the bars down in Tempe, Arizona, and the parents sue him for a million bucks because of the bruises on junior’s head, we answer the lawsuit on his behalf. Pay the lawyers, pay any costs, pay the judgment against him. Everything. So we have a right to know what he’s making, and who or what it could hurt.”
“Okay, I’m with you. So what did he say he was making?”
“Flange rings and industrial casings.”
“For what?”
“That’s just it. We don’t know anything. So then, Sunday night, the place was broken into. And we’re talking professional thieves here, no amateur job. They cut the line on the alarm system so it wouldn’t go off, and then removed iron bars from the frame, if you can believe it. But do they take the standard things? Hand tools or expensive computers? Not these guys. They went right for the locked file cabinets and stole nothing except plans, blueprints, schematics, and design specs.”
“All right. Well, you didn’t say that. That’s definitely suspicious. So they’re making something for someone else, and these thieves wanted to steal the design for it?”
“That’s about the size of it. So I want to find out what they’re making, and then void the policy for non-disclosure, which means there was something essential to our understanding of the risk that they didn’t tell us, which would have made us change our mind about taking the policy at all, probably. And under the terms of utmost good faith, we can return their premium money, say the policy was void, and never existed, and not pay the claim.”
“Okay, well, that’s a pretty big leap to be making, when you don’t even know what it is they’re making. And whether that would have made you change your mind about it.”
“Yes, but how can I know? It’s clear to me that this is not a standard machine shop. These flange rings and metal casings are part of something else that someone wants very badly, and I don’t think it’s piping, plumbing, or ducts.”
“I see what you mean. Suspicious.”
“And the adjuster was giving me a hard time about it, and I didn’t even want to write it in the first place. My manager bound it over the phone; I was just putting the file together. That kind of thing bothers me, for some reason. I mean, I know Jason is a blow-hard, and I should just ignore him, but he gets under my skin. Pretty stupid, eh?”
“So where do you go from here?”
“I just wait to see what happens. The claims department takes over from here, and they’ll deal directly with the insured.”
“You mean you don’t even get to investigate this?”
“No, my job is just on the underwriting end. Sort of like sales.”
“Well, that’s stupid. Who knows the ‘risk’ better than you? You should be allowed to get involved in these things. Sounds like this Jason guy isn’t going to be worth much.”
“I’ve never thought so.”
“So why don’t we investigate it?”
“What do you mean?”
George looked at his watch. Gina would still be up, and waiting to talk to him. “Let’s go out there and check it out.”
“Now? Tonight?”
“Why not? I want to see this place for myself. Do you know where it is?”
“Yeah. 50 Silver Star Boulevard. It’s an easy name to remember. But we can’t just go out there and snoop around.”
“Who says we can’t?”
“Well, what are we going to be able to see just from looking in the window?”
“It’s a start. Maybe they have a night shift.”
“No, the inspection report said the hours were 7am to 7pm. 25 employees, in business for 18 years. They run a $250,000 CNC machine 12 hours a day, and have sales of over $5 million.”
“Wow, that’s some memory.”
“It’s been bugging me.”
“So, let’s go out there. Have you got a car?”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what? You got some other plans for tonight?”
“No.”
“Well. We can’t let these criminals get away with this. They just walked in there, obviously professionals, repeat offenders, and they’re still out there, committing crimes. Let’s at least take a look around. Maybe we’ll see something that will trigger an idea in our minds, and we’ll be able to solve this, and put those bastards behind bars. They broke in. To your risk. It’s personal, baby.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’ve been feeling. It is personal. All right, what the hell. Let’s do it.”
They motioned for the bill, and finished the last of their dinners. Martin was a bit odd, but really a good guy once you got to know him. He seemed a bit repressed, and in need of someone to expand his horizons. And George felt strangely resentful of these criminals who were at large somewhere, maybe ready to pull another job. Wonder how much they were being paid? Break in, steal some plans, hand them over, no questions asked.
“How far is it to your car?”
“It’s up at Yonge and Finch.”
“You parked at Yonge and Finch?”
“No, I live there. I take the subway in to work everyday. My car is in the underground parking lot in my building.”
“Well, how environmentally-friendly of you.”
“It’s cheaper than parking.”
“Oh, yeah. That, too. So we’ll subway it up, and then go from there.”
“All right, but we’re just going to look around.”
“What do you think, that I’m going to break in myself?”
“No,” said Martin. “But I just don’t want to take any chances. And what about your bike? Won't it be stolen?”
George laughed and shook his head. That Martin, always the worry wart.