Arnie screamed, “you’re dead meat!”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Eddie said, “the runt bastard’s not worth it.”
Rudy scampered along the bar until he arrived at where Carl was sitting and climbed up on the barstool next to him.
“Hello, Carl, got any hot stock tips for me?”
Carl didn’t acknowledge his presence and continued reading the newspaper.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Ok, here’s a red hot tip, Rudy, sell your Lehman Brothers stock; it’s going to go bankrupt.”
“Lehman filed bankruptcy five years ago.”
“Oh, yeah, huh, I must’ve missed it.”
“Very funny, Carl, but I wouldn’t quit my day job if I was you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
His small eyes glowed conspiratorially in the low light. “Especially since your day job is so highly lucrative.”
“I do all right, Rudy, I can’t complain.”
He edged closer. “And so illegal too.”
Carl put the paper down.
“You know, Carl, being a midget has many disadvantages. For instance, you have to buy your clothes in the Children’s Departments of stores, which is mortifying for an adult man.”
“Yeah, I can see how it would be.”
“And you can’t drive a car or go out on dates with normal women.”
“No.”
“At restaurants you have to sit in booster seats like a toddler.”
“I’d hate that.”
“In crowds people can’t see you so they walk on you. You end up with bruises all over your body.”
“Hmm.”
“The worst part, though, Carl, is the snickering that goes on behind your back.”
“Uh-huh.”
“People think you can’t hear their snide jokes concerning the size of your pecker or the capacity of your bladder, but you can hear them loud and clear.”
“Right.”
Rudy adjusted his eyeshade. “I have a theory that we midgets develop a sharper sense of hearing as a result of all those tasteless jokes.”
“Hmm.”
“I expect to be coming into a great deal of money soon, Carl. Maybe I’ll fund a medical research project at the Mayo Clinic to prove my theory.”
“That would be real generous of you.”
“I’m not a whiner, Carl, but as I said, it’s not easy being a midget.”
“I believe you.” He signaled Ashley for another gin and tonic.
Rudy sighed melodramatically. “It is a cross, however, that God has given me to bear in life.”
Carl guffawed. “You’re full of shit; you’re an atheist!”
The midget laughed. “I had you going there for a minute, Carl, admit it.”
He nodded. “Yeah, you did.”
“But getting serious again, Carl, there is one major advantage to being a midget.”
“Oh, what is it?”
“It’s that people often don’t know you’re nearby because they can’t see you due to an obstruction like a big chair or a grandfather’s clock.”
“Hmm.”
“The old axiom – out of sight, out of mind – is true.”
“What are you getting at, Rudy?”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “When people believe they’re alone, Carl, they say all kinds of shit they’d never dare say if they realized they were being overheard.”
“Hmm.”
“You’d be amazed at some of the scandalous conversations I’ve overheard in the Bull & Bear; it’d blow your mind.”
“I bet it would.”
He lowered his voice. “A midget with a bit of larceny in his heart might get the idea that there’s money to be made from these conversations.”
“Yeah, he might.”
“And if he was an enterprising kind of fellow … and also happened to purchase a sensitive, top-of-the-line, miniature digital recorder that could be secreted just about anywhere in this place without being noticed … he could end up with some very incriminating blackmail material.”
“I see.”
“Take for instance that time a couple of weeks ago when you and certain people reserved the private dining room in the vault to have a dinner meeting.”
“I remember.”
“The walls had ears, Carl, they heard everything that was said.”
“Hmm.”
“As I view it, I’m sitting in the catbird seat now.”
“It seems so; don’t it?”
Rudy gloated as though he was playing in a high-stakes poker game and had just been dealt a royal flush. “Then again, Carl, you’re an expert at recordings; aren’t you?”
His drink arrived and he took a healthy swig.
“And you’re also skilled at breaking into the offices of hedge funds and investment banks in the middle of the night, searching for confidential memos on impending deals.”
“What do you want, Rudy?”
“I want to jump on the gravy train, Carl, the same as you and the others at SKG.”
“Hmm.”
“I suggest that your people and my people set up a meeting.”
His glass stopped mid-way to his lips. “You got people?”
Rudy cackled again, turning a few heads in their direction. “No, but I’ve always wanted to say that line because actors always use it in the movies.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, Carl, it’s only me. I
