Humor
I Think Best When I’m Nude with an Open Bath Robe
The Naked Assassin — Part 5
Mantuno’s was closed, but I could see the light on in her apartment above the store. I’d usually just climb up the fire escape and pop into the living room, but I decided on a more tactful approach. I rang the bell.
Mantuno opened the door in a robe. I could see Bonzo standing in the room behind her, also in a robe. Apparently, I was interrupting something.
“What do you want, Mr. Thomas?”
“Children, and I’m sorry to bother you, but I just had one question. Could I come in?”
Mantuno gave Bonzo a look that I couldn’t decipher at the time but later learned meant “Hey Bonzo, go get your club and knock this guy on the head while I distract him.”
“Sure, what do you want? We were just about to go to bed.”
I walked into Mantuno’s apartment. It was filthy.
“Jesus, when was the last time you hired a maid?”
“Very funny, Mr. Thomas.”
Mantuno sounded a little defensive.
“Children, and I’m not joking. This place should be condemned.”
“Fine, the place is a little messy. I wasn’t expecting a guest. What do you want, Mr. Thomas?”
Mantuno was now clearly getting my name wrong on purpose, but I decided to let it go.
“Who’s ‘Jeff?’”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard you on the phone earlier. You were going on about someone named ‘Jeff.’ Was he the one who bought the Bar Mitzvah card?”
Mantuno rolled her eyes like a teenager being asked if she put her dish in the sink.
“I don’t know who bought that card.”
To say that I didn’t believe Mantuno at all would have been an understatement. I didn’t believe Mantuno at all, and I’d had enough.
“Listen lady, I’ve got a client who’s being blackmailed. You know who bought the card, and I know you know who bought the card, and you know that I know that you know who bought the card, so let’s make it is this easy, just tell me who bought the card because I know that you know that I know that you know that I know that you know who bought the card!”
Mantuno wasn’t giving anything up.
“Children, I don’t know who bought the card.”
She got my name right. I was amazed. I was also amazed that she kept talking.
“I don’t know who bought that card. I don’t know anything about Mr. Ganoosh being killed, the Naked Assassin or the jewels.”
That was odd. I never said anything about Mr. Ganoosh being killed, the Naked Assassin or the jewels.
“You know, that’s odd. I never said anything about Mr. Ganoosh being killed, the Naked Assassin or the jewels.”
Mantuno slapped herself on the forehead like a ticket taker at a waffle house.
“Oh, I, ah, thought that you did. I mean I’m pretty sure you did.”
Gaslighting was not her strong suit. Mantuno looked like a dentist caught with his pants down at an aquarium. She knew she messed up. I wasn’t letting her off the hook.
“Nope, I never mentioned any of that. . .and I have a client who’s being blackmailed, so spill.”
Mantuno threw me another curve.
“I don’t know who bought the card. . .and you don’t know who your client is. Your client is the Naked Assassin. Word is that someone got photos of her knocking off Old Man Ganoosh, and is looking to make a buck.”
I was skeptical.
“Pretty risky trying to blackmail an assassin.”
“People do lots of risky things for money. So, do yourself a favor and drop this. Your client is just using you. Once you get the photos, she’s not going to want you around, and you’re done.”
I had a few follow up questions, but before I had a chance to ask, Mantuno called out, “Bonzo!”
I realized that I hadn’t seen the big guy for a bit.
“Yeah, where is the big guy?”
“Right here, Mr. Thomas.”
I turned and saw Bonzo right behind me, robe wide open. He was holding that big club above his head, and then -
“Whack!”
It all went black. I was out.
(To Be Continued. . .)