Chapter Seven

Allison

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Alan arrived back at his New York flat an hour after he was forced to leave Dan’s house. “Now I know Diana is hiding something. I’ve got the negative, and I know someone who does prosthetic makeup for NBC/Universal who might be able to tell me definitively whether Diana’s husband’s makeup is real or fake.”  He chuckled to himself. “If Mike can say it isn’t prosthetic makeup, then I have a ‘real’ mystery to solve. And I know just how to do it.” This idea would be a major shift in any journalism project he had ever undertaken and could possibly land him in jail for a very long time. Just the thought of kidnapping, even for a short time, would be a pretty serious offense, and knowing Diana, she’d get her friend Joe Maxwell to prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law if he were to pursue that train of thought. “But it ‘sure’ would be worth it.”

Alan crossed his living room with the negative in hand and called his friend Mike. He waited a couple of rings before Mike finally answered the phone.

“Hey Mike, it’s Alan. Are you busy?”

“Nah, we just wrapped season 8 of NYPD Blue. Season 9 isn’t scheduled to start till the new year. What’s up?”

“I have a negative of a guy supposedly wearing makeup, and I need to know if it’s real or not. You’re in the business, so I know you’d be able to tell.”

“Depends on the negative, it would be better to develop it and get a high-resolution picture for better clarity.”

“Can you develop it, or do you know someone who can do it, without asking a lot of questions?”

“I don’t have the equipment here, and I won’t take it to the studio. I know someone who can be discreet. What’s the deal?”

“My brother’s sister-in-law is a cop here in New York, and she’s hiding something, and I want to know what it is. I need to verify the picture is what I think it is in order to dig into it further.”

“What makes you think it’s real and not makeup?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“I did, and she gave me some lame story about having a Renaissance wedding. Thing is, none of the other relatives, including my brother and sister-in-law, were invited. I can’t get it out of my head that she’s hiding something.”

“I don’t know, man. If she’s a cop like you say she is, what’s to stop her from hauling your ass in jail for invasion of privacy or some horseshit like that? And my ass to boot once she finds out.”

“When you verify the picture, I have something in mind that will force her to talk to me.”

“You’re not planning something illegal, are you?”

“If push comes to shove, yeah. But it’s just one idea.”

“Alan, you’re crazy. Nothing is worth going to jail over.”

“If it’s newsworthy, it will be. So will you do this for me?”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t want to go to jail, and I definitely don’t want to lose my job over this shit if NBC finds out I was involved in this.”

“If things go south, I will take full responsibility.”

“Man…”

“Look, just take a look at the negative, and if you still don’t want to get involved, send me to someone who can.”

“Bring me the negative, I’ll take a look, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thanks, Mike. I’ll be over shortly.”

“I think I’m going to regret this.”

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

Alan arrived at Mike’s apartment half an hour after he called him. As soon as he rang the doorbell, Mike yanked the door open and pulled Alan into the apartment.

“You bring the negative?”

“Yeah, here. Tell me what you think.”

Mike took the negative over to his living room light to get a better look at it.

“Geez, Alan. That is really some get-up that guy is wearing. You’re sure you think it’s real and not makeup.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to tell me.”

“I can’t tell one way or another. I’ll call my friend, Tony. He’s the one who taught me all the tricks I know in the business.”

“I don’t want this picture spread all over town. If another reporter sees it and gets the same idea I have…”

“I promised I would call a friend of mine, and I will,” Mike told Alan as he handed back the negative. After handing him a beer, Mike called his friend Tony, praying he was home. The phone rang numerous times.

“Come on, Tony, pick up the damn phone!” Mike growled into the mouthpiece.

“Keep your pantyhose on, I’m here. I’m here. Hello,” Mike heard Tony say, sounding a little out of breath from running to the phone.

“Tony, it’s Mike.”

“Mike, how’s it hanging?”

“Tony, I got a little job for you, but it’s got to be kept on the QT.”

“Sure, Mike, sure. What’s the job?”

“A friend of mine has a negative with a guy wearing some kind of prosthetic makeup. I need you to tell him whether it ‘is’ makeup or not.”

“Can’t you tell?”

“Nah, there are no detectable seams to be seen anywhere. Even the so-called fake teeth look real.”

“If you can’t tell, what makes you think I can?”

“Tony, you’re the best in the business. You taught me, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. Likely story. Tell your friend to bring me the negative. I will blow up the picture so I can examine it more closely and tell you and him what’s what.”

“Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it.”

“Bring me some of the good stuff, and we’ll call it even.”

“I will ‘and’ my friend’s gonna be footing the bill for the booze.”

Mike hung up the phone and turned to Alan.

“We’re heading over to his place and ‘you’re’ bringing the good stuff as a present/bribe.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Mike and Alan left Mike’s apartment and went to the liquor store on the corner.

“What does your friend Tony drink? What type of ‘good’ stuff?”

“Aberlour 18 Year. One of the finest whiskys made in Speyside, Scotland. It’s made in a Double cask matured in Oloroso sherry and American oak casks.” Mike grabbed the bottle and handed it to Alan.

 Alan looked puzzled as he held the bottle. “Scotch?”

The clerk looked up at Alan’s question.

“One of the best Scotch whiskies out there,” the store clerk chimed in, seeing the expensive bottle in Alan’s hands.

“How much?” Alan asked.

“$249 plus tax,” the clerk answered.

“$249? You’re kidding, right?” Alan stammered.

“Nope,” Mike stated. “You want Tony’s help, that’s his fee,” Mike cut Alan off before he could complain further. “Pay the man, Alan.”

Alan reluctantly forked over $260, including tax, and carefully took the bottle from the clerk.

“This guy better be worth it.”

“He is, Alan. He is.”

They left the liquor store, and 10 minutes later, they were pulling into Tony’s driveway in the Upper West Side section of the city. Tony opened the door even before the car came to a full stop.

“Mike, good to see you, buddy.” Tony waved to him as he stepped out of the car.

“Tony, thanks for seeing us this quick.”

“Sounded like you have a real mystery on your hands. Did you bring my ‘fee’?”

“Right here.” Alan held up the cloth-covered bottle.

“Come on in and let me see this negative of yours.” Tony followed them into the house and led them to his basement, where his darkroom was located.

Alan handed Tony the bottle first, which he set on his basement bar, giving a low whistle as he pulled it out of the cloth bag.

“Mike, you sure know how to please a guy. Where’s the negative?”

Alan pulled the negative out of his pocket and handed it to Tony. As he looked at the negative while holding it up to the light, he did a quick double-take, which neither man had noticed.

“Let me develop this picture, and I can give you a better answer. The negative doesn’t give a clear picture. I can develop this with a high resolution to be sure of what I’m looking at.”

Tony took the negative into his darkroom and placed it on the table in front of him. He blew out a shuddering breath.

Where the hell did this guy get a picture of Vincent? Tony wondered to himself. What the hell am I going to tell them? I can’t tell them the truth. If I tell them it’s fake, they may not believe me. If I tell them, it’s not a mask, it’s gonna cause a world of hurt for the world Below.

Tony stepped out of the darkroom. “Where did you get this?”

“Off the stepson of my sister-in-law,” Alan told him. “It was mixed in with some pictures I developed for my niece. So, is it real or fake?”

“I can’t tell yet, the picture is still developing.” Tony was trying to stall. “What makes you think it’s real?”

“Just a gut feeling, I guess,” Alan explained.

“Well, it’s going to take a while, so why don’t we enjoy this good sipping whisky while we wait?” Tony grabbed three glasses from behind the bar, and they moved to the couch in the corner. Tony slowly, reverently opened the bottle. “We have to let it breathe first.” He said as he unwrapped the cap and slowly twisted it off. After 5 minutes, Tony poured each of them two fingers of the auburn gold liquid.

“To discovering new things,” Alan toasted.

“Salud. Bottoms up,” Tony and Mike said at the same time.