A DAY LATE AND A DOLLAR SHORT

 

By: Kenda

 

*Two things inspired me to write this story in 1993. The first being, where did Rick and A.J. get the pinball machine that was in their office? And, the second - amongst the scenes in the opening Simon and Simon credits, Rick and A.J. are shown kissing Cecilia as she sits surrounded by birthday gifts.  To the best of my knowledge, this scene was never shown in any aired episode, therefore A Day Late and a Dollar Short gave me a way to build a story around it.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

A.J. Simon sat at his desk with his head bent over the stack of bills he was studying. The blond man was oblivious to the afternoon sunshine streaming in through the picture window behind him, as well as to the blaring noise coming from the television Rick had on. The oldest Simon brother was slumped in his chair, feet propped up on the corner of his desk as he watched an old Gene Autry western on cable.

 

A.J. glanced at his desk calendar and made a mental note of the date. "Did you remember that Mom's birthday is in four days?"

 

The television had drowned out A.J.'s words. Rick picked the remote control up, aimed it at the TV, and clicked the volume down.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"I said, did you remember that Mom's birthday is in

four days?"

 

Rick turned the TV off.  "Well, yeah...sorta. I thought about it one day last week, but now that you mention it, I did kinda forget, I guess. Or at least I didn't realize it was this close. Mom's birthday has a way of creeping up on me."

 

"Tell me about it," A.J. agreed. Every year A.J. wracked his brain for weeks prior to his mother's birthday in an effort to come up with the perfect gift for her. It seemed as though he’d no more than find one, and then another year flew by and August 22nd, Mom's special day, was rapidly approaching allover again.

 

"What are ya' gonna get her this year?" 

 

“Oh, no,” A.J. shook his head. "I'm not falling for that

trick again."

 

"What trick?"

 

"All I'm going to say in reply is, that Mom doesn't need two microwave ovens again. Or two of anything else for that matter," A.J. pointed out with annoyance as Rick snickered.

 

Like his younger brother, Rick always had a difficult time finding their mother the perfect birthday gift. Three years earlier Rick had, much like today, innocently inquired of A. J., "What are you gonna get Mom for her birthday?"

 

A.J. had answered Rick that day with, "She's really been wanting a microwave oven. Aunt Pat’s got one now, and Mom mentioned to me the other day that she’d like one, too. I think I might stop by Sears after work and pick one up for her."

 

That one clue given by A.J. prompted Rick to stop at a local discount appliance store after work that night. On the evening they celebrated Cecilia's birthday three days later, Rick made sure that he arrived at his mother's well ahead of A.J. When A.J. walked in a half hour after Rick's arrival carrying a box identical in size to the one that was already sitting on the dining room table, Cecilia joked, "My goodness, these boxes are exactly the same size. And they're both so heavy. Did you boys get me two of the same thing?"

 

Rick had smiled sweetly and ignored the outraged look his brother gave him while urging, "Open mine first, Mom. "

 

An angry A.J. had ended up returning Cecilia's extra microwave oven to Sears that year, and vowed never again to give his brother even the slightest of hints concerning what their mother might want for her birthday.

 

Now Rick pestered him with, "Come on, A.J., what are ya' gonna get her?"

 

"You're the last person on earth I'll tell."

 

"Oh, come on."

 

"No, Rick. No way."

 

"I bet you haven't gotten her anything yet. I bet you don't even have any ideas."

 

Although Rick's words were true, A.J. bluffed, "Yes, well, that just goes to show that you don't know everything. A fact I've been aware of for a long time, I might add."

 

Rick paid no attention to his brother, and let the gift part of the subject drop. "Do you wanna to take her out to dinner?"

 

"Yeah. Then we could go back to the house for cake and ice cream."

 

"Sounds good," Rick agreed. "You bake the cake, I'll buy the ice cream."

 

"As usual."

 

"So I ain't such a great cake baker. Give me a break, okay?" 

 

"Yeah, yeah, all right. You're forgiven. All I know is, we've got to be there on time this year for her birthday. "

 

"I suppose it would be a good idea, huh? I think she's

gettin' a little annoyed with us."

 

"A lot annoyed," A. J. said, as other birthday celebrations of his mother’s came to mind. 

 

The Simon brothers had moved back to San Diego from Florida in 1979, and had opened their detective business upon their arrival. Prior to that, Rick hadn't lived permanently in his hometown since 1962, while A.J. had left in 1974. Therefore, upon returning to the city of their birth to take up permanent residence, both men knew that celebrating family occasions with their mother was an important priority. Unfortunately, the detective business didn't always care about priorities. Because of that fact, the brothers' good intentions regarding their mother's birthday had taken a back seat to more pressing issues in 1980, '81, '82, and '83. A.J. was bound and determined that August 22nd of 1984 was going to be different. They would celebrate their mother's birthday on the correct date, and they would be on time.

 

Thinking over the various cases that had kept them from meeting their past obligations, Rick suggested, "Why don't you call her right now and set the time. Tell her to pick whatever restaurant she wants to."

 

"Good idea," A. J. agreed as he reached for the phone.

 

Rick listened to the one-sided conversation as his brother exchanged pleasantries with their mother. A.J. then told her to pick the restaurant of her choice for her birthday dinner, and asked her what time she wanted her sons to pick her up.

 

Rick knew their mother was giving A.J. a hard time when the expression on his face became pained, and when he was forced to start defending himself.

 

"We will not, Mom. We won't be late! Yes, we will be there on your birthday.”

“Mother, I know your birthday's the 22nd.”

“Yes, I know that's Friday.”

“Yes, this Friday. Yes, I know.”

“Mom! Mom! We'll be there, I promise."

 

A.J. rolled his eyes as he held the receiver toward his brother and asked loudly, "Rick, we'll be there, won't we?"

 

"We'll be there, Mom!” Rick assured with a shout. “You can count on it! Promise! "

A.J. put the phone back to his ear. "See, Rick promises, too.”

 

“Okay, we'll see you then.”

 

“Yes, Mom, on Friday.”

 

“Yes, at seven o'clock in the evening.”

 

 “Yes.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“All right. Good-bye."

Rick grinned as A.J. hung up the phone with a heavy sigh.

"She doesn't believe us, huh?"

 

The blond man ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

 

"Let's just say she's expecting us anywhere between the 20th to the 26^th, and any time between five and midnight. She also said she'd have a casserole in the oven in case we're too late for our dinner reservations like we were last year."

 

"She knows us too well."

 

"Yes, but not this year," A. J. vowed. "This year we’re going to be on time. Mom's going to be treated to the nice dinner out that she deserves."

 

"She had a nice dinner out last year," Rick defended.

 

"Oh right, Rick. We took her through a McDonald’s drive-up at eleven-thirty at night. "

 

"Well geez, A.J., I told her she could have anything on the menu. I even bought her a hot apple pie."

 

"How generous of you, big spender."

 

"Hey, it wasn't our fault the Robinson case had us tied up last year on Mom's birthday."

 

"I know that, and you know that, but Mom's a woman. And if I've come to learn anything in my thirty-five years on this earth, it's that there are some things a woman just does not understand. "

 

"That's true, little brother,” Rick nodded. “That's very true."

 

"So anyway, we'd be wise to make Mom’s birthday a special night for her this year."

 

"Yeah, you're right, A.J.," Rick agreed. "It shouldn't be a problem. These last couple of weeks have been slow."

 

Rick turned the TV on once again, as A.J. studied the pile of unpaid bills. The blond man sighed with disgust as he nodded his agreement. "They sure have."

 

______________________

 

The next morning the Simon brothers could be found doing much the same thing they had been the previous afternoon. Rick was lounging in his chair trying to make his fortune off of the Price is Right, while A.J. sat at his desk shuffling the unpaid bills back and forth.

 

Rick glanced over at his brother. "What are you doin'?"

 

A.J. rubbed his temples. "I'm trying to decide which bills we can pay and which ones can be put off a while. Trouble is, none of them can be put off."

 

"Well then, just pay the ones you can and let the others wait."

 

"Rick, the problem here is that we can't pay any of them!"

 

Rick watched as his brother continued to massage his temples. The lanky detective opened his desk drawer, reached inside, then walked over to deposit a bottle in front of A. J. The blond man opened his eyes and gave his sibling a slight smile as he caught sight of the Anacin sitting in front of him. "Thanks," A.J. said as he pried the lid off the bottle and dumped two aspirin in his hand.

 

"A.J., don't worry about it. We'll get by,” Rick said as his brother got up to get a cup of water from the cooler. “We always do.”

 

A.J. swallowed the aspirin, then replied, "I don't understand this business we're in sometimes. Why can't it be more consistent? It seems like we either have more cases than the two of us can handle by ourselves, or that we have none at all."

 

Rick perched on the corner of his brother's desk as A.J. sat back down in his chair. "Well, little brother, that's the name of the game. You know that by now."

 

"Yeah, I suppose. I just wish we could have one steady case a week. Is that too much to ask?"

 

Rick chuckled. "I hate to tell you this, kid, but I think it is. We've been in business together for what...almost five years now?"

 

A.J. nodded.

 

"And in those five years we've either been runnin' our tails off tryin' to solve three cases at once, or we've been sittin' around doing nothing like we are right now."

 

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

 

"So see, there's nothing to worry about. Something will come our way," Rick pacified as he walked back to his chair. "Besides, look at it this way. If we don't have any jobs this week, we'll be able to get to Mom's on time for sure this year."

 

"Good point, Rick. The only thing that's lacking in your logic is that if there's no money coming in, that means there's no money available to go out. As in go out to buy Mom her present, or take Mom out for her birthday dinner."

 

"I know this might come as a shock to you, Mr. Tightwad, but maybe, just maybe, you're gonna to have to dip into that emergency account you have for the business that you think I don't know about. We can always borrow some money out of there for Mom's gift and the dinner."

 

A.J. tried not to act surprised over the fact that Rick knew about the emergency fund account he kept with several thousand dollars in it. "That's supposed to be for business emergencies, Rick. Like if we have a slow month and I'm short on money to pay the office rent, or if one of us gets sick or hurt and the business is closed down for a while."

 

"I'd say us showin' up at Mom's without gifts or the money to take her to dinner qualifies as an emergency, A.J. At least in the sense that if we show up without those things, we may find ourselves hurt and in the hospital."

 

A.J. chuckled as Rick went on to say, "You worry too much anyway. Things are gonna work out. Mom's birthday is still three days away. Something will come along."

 

"I'll hold you to that, Confucius," A.J. remarked as Rick returned his attention to the television.

 

______________________

 

 

Two hours later, the brothers were doing the exact same things they had been doing two hours earlier, when their office door flew open. The startled detectives jumped to their feet, each reflexively reaching for their side arms.

 

As his racing heart began to slow, Rick roared, "Jerry! What the hell are you doin' charging in here like that? You're lucky one of us didn't shoot you!"

 

Jerry Reiner apologized in-between gasps for breath. "Sorry, guys, but I need your help! Come on!"

 

The Simons shot each other a puzzled look as Jerry raced for the door. "Com on, you guys!"

 

"Jerry...Jerry, slow down," A.J. urged as he walked toward his friend. "Have a seat and tell us what's going on."

 

Jerry reluctantly moved to sit down in the chair that A.J. gently pushed him toward. A.J. sat down at his desk across from Jerry, while Rick sat in the other chair next to the coroner.

 

"Okay, Jer, what's this all about? Why are ya’ in such a rush?"

 

"I need to hire you guys...well not me, really. The coroner's office needs to hire you actually. But it's my fault."

 

Rick's eyes lit up at the word “hire” while A.J. 's brows knit together in confusion.

 

"Whoa, Jerry. Back up,” A.J. instructed. “What's your fault and why does the county coroner's office need you to hire us?"

 

"We need you to find him."

 

"Find who?" Rick asked.

 

"Mr. Tesar."

 

In an effort to calm his upset friend, A.J. assured, "All right, we can do that. We're fairly...light on cases at the moment."

A.J. pulled a note pad and pen out of his top drawer. "Now, what can you tell us about this Mr. Tesar? Where did you last see him? What are his interests, hobbies...things of that nature? Does he have a family? Where does he work?"

"He doesn't work anywhere anymore. He's dead."

 

"What?" came the simultaneous question of surprise from the Simons.

 

"He's dead." 

 

"Jerry, why the hell do you want us to look for a dead guy?" Rick asked.

 

"Because I lost him."

 

"You lost him?" an incredulous A.J. repeated.

 

"Yeah, I lost him, and I've got to find him again, and you guys are the only people I can turn to for help. If you two can't find him I'll lose my job. My boss is pretty pissed about this whole situation, and he's worried about it leaking out to the press. You guys have gotta find him. Mr. Dennison, my boss, told me that if I don't have the guy back by Saturday there's going to be hell to pay."

 

Rick crossed his arms as he thought out loud. "Well, normally I'd say four days isn't very much time to track someone down. But, what the heck, the guy's dead. How far could he possibly get?"

 

A.J. gave his brother a wilting look. "Far enough that

Jerry lost him, Rick." Turning his attention to his old high school friend, A.J. said, "Jerry, just tell us everything that's happened. And slowly please."

 

The young coroner nervously ran his hands through his hair. "Okay. It’s like this. I was getting ready to work on...do an autopsy

on Mr. Tesar...Michael Tesar. And I...uh...well it was lunch time, and I was hungry, so I left the room long enough to get a sandwich, and when I got back he was gone."

 

"You don't suppose the guy got tired of waitin' for you and got up and walked away, do ya’?" 

 

"Very funny, Rick," A.J. said as he gave his brother a look that said, Jerry's really upset Knock it off with the smart remarks.

 

A.J., who treated even a good friend with professionalism, asked, "Nobody would have come in and moved him to another room, would they? Or to a hospital morgue, or funeral home, or something like that?"

 

Jerry shook his head. "No, we thought of all those things. I checked the hospitals out myself, while a couple of our secretaries called every funeral home in San Diego. He's nowhere to be found. At least not anywhere we've thought to look. "

 

“Was there anything unusual about this guy?” Rick asked. “Any reason why someone would wanna to steal his body? Did he die in an unusual or traumatic way?"

 

"No, I don't think so. I didn't have a chance to start the autopsy, so I don't know for sure what he died of, but it looked like a heart attack. His wife couldn't wake him up yesterday morning. He was fifty-five years old, a smoker, and over weight, so all the signs were pointing to a massive coronary."

 

Since none of the information Jerry had given them as

of yet was leading anywhere, A.J. probed some more. "Jerry, do you know anything about this guy? Anything that would give us a clue as to why someone would take his body?"

 

Jerry shrugged. "No, not really. I know he was in business for himself. Oh, yeah, and that he belonged to the mob."

 

"The mob?” Both Rick and A.J. exclaimed at the same moment.

 

"Yeah.” Jerry looked from one brother to the other. “Why? Is that important?"

 

 ______________________

 

A.J. and Rick got some additional information from Jerry that morning, as well as a check from the coroner's office for two thousand dollars, which Jerry told the brothers was for four days of detective work on their part.

"I hope four days will give you enough time to find him," Jerry said.

 

A.J. assured Jerry they'd do their best and be in touch, then sent the man on his way. The blond man smiled as he made out a deposit slip for the check, with the intention of stopping at the bank some time that day.

 

Rick observed this action and said smugly, "Just call me Confucius."

 

The two men headed out the door. When they reached the parking lot, they walked toward the Camaro.

 

"We've looked for a lot of missing people over the last few years, but this is the first dead missing person we've ever looked for,” A.J. said. “I don't even know where to start."

 

Rick laughed. "The cemetery?"

 

A.J. shot his sibling a long-suffering look, that reaction only causing Rick to laugh harder as they climbed in the sports car.

 

  ______________________

 

 

Twenty minutes later, the Simons entered Downtown Brown's office. The police lieutenant looked up upon hearing the door shut.

 

"Don't you guys ever knock?"

 

"Gee, Town, I thought we were always welcome here," A.J. quipped. "You know, your office is our office, our office is your office, that kind of thing."

 

"What the hell good would your office do me?" 

 

Rick made himself comfortable on the couch. "Well, it would get you away from this place for one thing. Maybe your disposition would improve a bit then."

 

Town, who had been at work for almost twenty hours due to a tedious investigation, let his exhaustion do his talking as he raised his voice.

 

"My disposition? There's nothing wrong with my disposition! You two jokers just waltz in here whenever you feel like it looking for free information."

 

A.J. recognized their friend was tired, so tried to humor Town out of his mood. "Us?” the blond man said while placing a hand on his chest. “Look for free information? Town, I'm really hurt. We can't even come visit our good friend without being falsely accused."

 

"Can the bullshit, A.J.," the black man sighed while hiding

a smile. "Whatta ya’ you guys want?"

 

Now that Town was willing to converse with them, Rick went straight to the point. "What do you know about a Michael Tesar?"

 

"I know he's dead.  Why?" 

 

"Well...uh...we're kind of looking for him," A.J. volunteered.

 

"Looking for him? I just told you he's dead."

 

"Yeah, yeah, we know that, Towner. But...well, we can't really tell you too much. It's confidential and all,” Rick explained. “But, if you could just tell us more about this guy it might be helpful." 

 

The black man smiled. "What if I say it's confidential?"

 

"Come on, Town, don't be a smart ass," A.J. said. 

 

"Okay, but this is gonna cost you guys at some point in time."

 

"Why?" Rick questioned.

 

"'Cause I've got better things to do than jaw with you two today, that's why. I work for a living you know." Town pointed a warning finger at A.J. who was about to make a comment. "And one more smart remark from you and I don't tell anything."

 

A.J. held up his hands in a gesture of compliance and hid the smile that was trying to break through on his face as Town leaned back in his chair. A

 

"I know that Michael Tesar was involved with the mob here in

San Diego big time. And I do mean big time. As far as I know, though,

we were never able to catch him at any wrong doing. The guy had a reputation of being good, and of covering his tracks well."

 

"Exactly what branch of the mob service was Mr. Tesar in?" Rick asked dryly.

 

"Pinball machines."

 

"Pinball machines?"

 

"Yeah, pinball machines. But more recently, he'd switched to video games. You know, the prime source of recreation for teenagers of the eighties."

 

"You mean like one of these video arcades I see around

so much now?" A. J. asked.

 

"Yes, exactly. Arcades. Tesar goes back a long way. He's been tied to mob dealings with arcade games all the way back to 1954, but now with all these new video games there's been a very big surge of interest by the kids to go places like that again. Arcades kind of died out in the late 60's and through most of the 70's, but now there's big money to be made with them again."

 

Rick nodded. "Yeah, come to think of it I saw where the one I used to hang out in has opened up again recently. I bet it had been closed for fifteen years."

 

"Yeah, and Mom always did say you'd meet up with no-good crooks in that place," A.J. teased. "Maybe you've met Tesar and just didn't know it."

 

Rick scoffed, "Ah, Mom doesn't always know what she's talking about.”

 

A.J. raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

 

“Well, sometimes she's wrong.”

 

“Name when.”

 

“Well...well...once in a while—“

As Town and A.J. laughed Rick said, "Well, anyway, I never met him. What would a guy like that want with a fifteen year old kid, anyway?"

"Cheap employment," Town contributed.

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I suppose."

"No wonder you never ran across him, Rick. The last thing you wanted to do when you were fifteen was work. Mom used to send me to find you at Sam's Arcade because that's where you'd always hide out when she wanted you to mow the grass. Huh, come to think of it, not much has changed."

 

Rick gave his sibling a dirty look, then asked, "So what was this guy's scam, Town?"

 

"It was pretty simple actually. During the mid-fifties Tesar bought a couple of pinball machines, then rented them out to local beer joints and bowling alleys. He made a few bucks, so he bought a few more. Pretty soon Mr. Tesar had a nice little business going, all on the up and up, then through some of his more shady business contacts he was introduced to one of San Diego's mob families. I never met the guy myself, but supposedly he was outgoing, humorous, a loyal friend, the kind of person everyone likes. So anyway, he gets real friendly with the Skarpelli family and--"

 

Rick let out a whistle. He could vaguely recall a lot of criminal activity being connected to this family in the late fifties and throughout the sixties.

 

"Pretty tough characters."

 

"Yeah,” Town nodded. “They were then, and they still are. They're just more discreet about it now days."

 

"So Tesar became a member of the Skarpelli family, so to speak?" A.J. asked.

 

"No, not really. But he became a good friend of the family. And you know how the mob works, if you're a friend, then you're family."

 

A.J. nodded his agreement. "Well then, what did Tesar do that was so illegal?"

 

"We don't have proof he did anything. But with the help o fhte Skarpelli family his little business grew and grew until he had a monopoly in this area with his arcade games. Funny thing, if someone else tried to rent a pinball machine to a local bar, or roller rink, or whatever, it was suggested - quite strongly - that they move their business elsewhere...like to New Mexico. Then there came a day in 1966 when a guy by the name of Gene Vos decided that no one was going to tell him that he couldn't establish himself here in San Diego doing the same thing Mr. Tesar did, renting pinball machines to various businesses and arcades. I can't blame the man for his principles, but when you're dealing with the mob it's best to bow to good old-fashioned common sense. According to Vos's wife, he received threats for over a year from some anonymous caller. When he didn't heed those warnings, his wife was abducted from their driveway one afternoon and taken for a ride."

 

"Did they kill her?" Rick asked.

 

"No, just scared her. They dropped her back off at her front door three hours later."