A long time ago, I used to work for a university. That job ended, but not the friendship I’d made with a certain graduate student there. Alice DesChamps and I had kept in touch for years afterward and this very afternoon were enjoying lunch together in a restaurant near her office downtown.
I wanted to know more about David Carlini’s past and Alice was the right person for the job. She worked the upper echelons of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts’ Division of Social Services. If Dave had a lawless past, Alice would know about it.
Maggie and Alice Chat Over Lunch
Right now, though, Alice was concentrating on a sandwich and giving me the once-over. “Tell me again why you want to know this?” she said. “Juvenile records are sealed for a reason.”
“Let’s just say I want to know what I’m getting into,” I retorted. “Suppose I make a computer for his wife and he falls on it when he’s drunk?”
“If he’s drunk,” Alice interrupted.
I ignored her. “Suppose he decides to sell or fence the thing? Should I even be doing something like this?”
“What, helping a woman who’s blind?”
“No, bringing a valuable piece of equipment into a house, not knowing whether the intended recipient is going to get a chance to use it before it disappears.” Sad to say, I’d learned the hard way about that possibility. “If this guy’s not reliable, I want to have some other options for the wife.”
Alice sighed and put down the sandwich, wiping her hands briskly on a napkin. She reached into her bag and pulled out an old looking file. “Well, let’s see.” She scanned the yellowed sheets, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, I will say one thing,” she said, finally. “Our Mr. Carlini has had an interesting past – to say the least.”
A Less Than Stellar Past (photo Megan Stevens)
“Interesting?” I said, waiting for more.
Alice put the file away. “Breaking and entering, malicious mischief and a few DUIs.” The she raised a finger and pointed it at me. “But, the most recent charge is over 25 years old. Didn’t he get married around 20 or 25 years ago? That might have straightened him out.”
I fingered a cup of coffee before sipping at the slightly bitter brew. “Yes,” I acknowledged. “It may have.”
“He has kids, right? A job?”
“He works construction.” I pictured David standing in our office again, caked with mud and weathered by years of sun, snow and rain. “He has two kids. I’ve never met them, but I did meet his wife and his sister. I think his sister hates him. Particularly since the accident.”
“Hmmm,” Alice mused. “Usually the family sticks together, protects its own. That’s certainly not a good sign. I think you’ve stepped into a hornet’s nest, my dear. Whatever you do, it’s going to come back to bite you.”
Maggie's In It Now (photo Sufi Nawaz)
I shook my head. “Great, thanks.” Della and I were aligned with David, innocent or guilty. We’d be the heavies, from start to finish. If David were clean, anger would be the extent of it: ugly glares and thick tension the minute we walked in the door. If he had actually caused the accident, he might be tempted to use us to protect himself. A tiny claw grabbed the inside of my stomach.
“You know, if this makes you uncomfortable, maybe you should hire this job out to someone else,” Alice suggested. “He does have a record. Just because he doesn’t have any recent convictions doesn’t mean he’s clean. It just means he’s avoided arrest. On the other hand, maybe he got married, had kids and straightened out his act. There’s no way to know.” Then she stared at me, hard. “And there’s no way you want to find out, Maggie. Take my advice. Drop this job, before you step into something even worse.”
