[NS] Coffee For Two (Rick And Ferrari Discuss Business)

The Blue Parrot was two blocks to the east and one block to the north of the Cafe' Americain. Across the street from The Blue Parrot was the home of Signor Ferrari. It was to there that Rick and Yvonne were strolling. Rick was wearing a double-breasted gray suit and fedora. Yvonne had on a red and white button-front three-quarters length dress, white high heels, and broad-brim white hat. The dress had vertical stripes, making her look like a walking peppermint candy stick.

When Rick rang the bell, he and Yvonne were greeted by his housekeeper Amira. As always, she was dressed in the traditional black, long robed abaya with a hijab head-and-face-cover. As she motioned them in, Ferrari rounded a corner of the entrance hall. Ferrari, like Rick, had on a gray suit, a red fez with tassel resting atop his bald head. In his booming voice, Ferrari complimented Yvonne, told Amira that she and Yvonne should have coffee in the enclosed courtyard of the house, asked Rick to join him in the study to go over some business matters. All of this said seemingly without drawing a breath of air.

Amira led Yvonne through the french doors out onto the brick layered courtyard. Yvonne's eyes went wide at the plants, bushes, and flowers that were everywhere. An oasis in the desert town of Casablanca. "You do all of this yourself?" she asked incredulously, overcome with awe.

"Oh, no, Miss Yvonne," Amira demurred, "We have a gardener that comes in twice a week. Please," a wide, black sleeved arm swept towards the garden furniture. Yvonne chose a wrought iron chase lounge with a floral pattern cushion.

***** ***** *****

Signor Ferrari locked the door behind them when the two men stepped inside the study. He headed straight for his wall safe while Rick came straight to the point, "O.K. What is this offer that I can't refuse?"

"Ha, ha! Always direct," Ferrari boomed, waving a rolled up large sheet of paper in one hand and pulling out a file folder and other assorted memoranda. "That's one of the things I admire about you."

The fat merchant waddled behind his antique desk, it dated back to the Crusades, and unfurled the navigational chart. Even looking at it upside from the other side of the desk, Rick could see it was of the port and surrounding coast line. Ferrari used an ashtray and brass statuette to keep the edges from curling.

"In a few days a ship will arrive off the shore of Casablanca," Ferrari tapped a spot on the chart. Glancing up at Rick, he added, "I shan't divulge the name of the vessel until I know that you are onboard. HaHaHa. Figuratively speaking."

"It will not proceed directly to port," his pudgy finger indicated where they were, "but shall drop anchor and spend the night, proceeding into the docks in the morning."

Rick shrugged, but from the way his eyes were narrowed, it was obvious he was interested in Ferrari's words. Or maybe it was just nostalgia. "What has this to do with me? I am just a saloon keeper."

Ferrari's mask of merriment slipped from his face, "You and I both know you have not always been a saloon keeper." Then his Falstaffian facade returned. "I have been contracted to off-load a certain cargo. A rather large amount of cargo."

"So?" Rick shrugged again. "You do that all the time. You must have a good sized crew... or crews... to bring in all the booze, and tobacco, and anything else people want."

"As long as they are prepared to pay," Ferrari agreed. "As long as they are prepared to pay. But those are harmless items. A little greasing of the palm and the authorities are more than willing to look the other way." Ferrari stared down at the chart. "But weapons are a different manner."

"Weapons?" Rick reached inside his coat for his cigarette case.

"Small arms mostly," Ferrari explained. "Pistols, rifles, sub-machine guns. Hand grenades. With a few machine guns and mortars thrown into the mix." He paused, allowing what he had just said to sink in. "That is why I need someone like you on the scene in case there is any trouble."

Rick did not have to ask what sort of trouble. He knew from experience. "Who is all of this hardware for?" he questioned, already knowing the answer. When Ferrari replied, Rick's next question was, "Where is the Resistance getting that kinda dough?" The gaze of his weary brown eyes moved from the chart to Ferrari's face. "Your price alone for... services rendered... must be astronomical."

"Out of this world," Ferrari beamed. "But here's the beauty of this... the shipment arrives pre-paid. Our good friends the British are picking up the tab. The Resistance is only left covering my 'handling fee'."

Rick rubbed his hand across his mouth. The exchange of money for goods was always the most dangerous part. But that had been eliminated. "What if the Captain of the ship decides to keep goin?. To sell his cargo elsewhere?"

"And have a target placed on his back by the Resistance?" Ferrari's expression would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame. "Plus... I imagine the British War Office would not take too kindly to having the Crown's funds absconded." He laughed his hearty laugh. "But either way, it will not matter to me... Or us?... My contract is with the Resistance. I will expect payment regardless."

For nearly an hour they studied tide charts, lunar tables, used a magnifying glass to read the depths near the shore, considered the pros and cons of various inlets and estuaries. When Rick finally did rise from his chair, he said, "I'll think about it." He went to snub out his cigarette butt and noticed that there were nearly a dozen of his in the ashtray already.

"Excellent!" Ferrari cheered, as he, too arose from the desk and began rolling up the chart. "Glad to have you onboard."

"I said I would think about it," Rick corrected.

"Fair enough," Ferrari conceded, returning the chart and documents to the wall safe. "If you do decide to throw in with me, let me know and I will introduce you to my lead man of the boat crews."

"Meanwhile," the portly Ferrari headed for the door to flip the lock open. "Let's check on the ladies. I hope they have not clawed each other's eyes out by now."