The Most Dangerous Animal of All by Gary L. Stewart, Susan Mustafa

cigars. Van felt important when he walked into Schroeder’s, like he belonged at the bar with these fine gentlemen. He often stared over the lip of his tall beer stein at the Hermann Richter murals that dominated the walls, admiring Richter’s use of color. In one, a tasty blond wench with an overflowing bosom playfully sat on the lap of an eager young man clad in shorts, a white-collared shirt, and a red vest. In another, a group of gentlemen sat around a table, gesturing grandly as they argued the politics of the day.
    Van ordered an exotic German beer on tap and watched as the bartender tried to stem the head. He handed William a cigar. Unwrapping it carefully, William noted its Cuban insignia. “I’m going to enjoy this one,” he said. Van often brought him cigars and other gifts from Mexico.
    Van smiled, lighting his own. “This is the life, huh?” he said in German. Usually he and William were the only two in the bar who could speak German, and they liked the feeling of superiority they experienced from speaking the language there.
    “Yes, it is,” William said. “Did you find anything of value on your last trip?”
    “A few things. Some seventeenth-century letters that might be of interest,” Van replied, omitting the fact that he had created them in his bedroom. William was a private investigator, a moral man. He wouldn’t understand.
    “When are you going back?” William asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe next month. I’m getting bored around here. I need some excitement,” Van said.
    And then my father met Judy Chandler.
    11
    Van waited impatiently behind a tree at the edge of Golden Gate Park, his eyes trained on Hugo Street. Judy lived about six houses down on Seventh Avenue, where the road dead-ended, and from his vantage point at the top of the hill, Van could see when she came outside. He hoped her mother wouldn’t follow her. Judy had told Verda about their relationship, and her mother had been doing everything she could to keep her daughter from seeing him. Judy liked the excitement of sneaking around and met Van whenever she could, mostly for hamburgers after school or an occasional movie.
    He watched as the front door opened and his girlfriend walked outside. Judy liked it when he called her his girlfriend. It made her feel grown up. When he saw the suitcase in her hand, he let out the breath he had been holding. He hadn’t been sure she would go through with it. He wanted to run down and help her carry it up the hill, but he couldn’t risk Verda spotting him, so he waited until she reached him.
    “Come on. We’ve got to hurry,” he said, kissing her quickly before grabbing the suitcase from her hand.
    Skirting the edge of the park, the couple half-ran to a nearby street where William had parked his car, waiting to drive them to the airport.
    “Get in,” Van said, throwing her suitcase on the backseat.
    “She looks kind of young, Van. She’s not like the other one, is she?” William asked, referring to Van’s former wife.
    “Oh. No. She’s nineteen,” Van said, lying.
    “I’m so excited,” Judy said, bouncing up and down in her seat, unaware that William was looking at her suspiciously. “I can’t believe we’re really going to do it.”
    They had planned it a few days before. Van had been walking her home when he pulled her behind a tree. “I don’t want you to go home,” he said. “I hate every minute you’re not with me.”
    “Me, too,” said Judy, “but I don’t want to get in trouble.”
    Van wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Kiss me,” he commanded.
    Judy snuggled closer and did as she was told.
    “Run away with me,” Van said. “Let’s get married.”
    Judy pulled away, stunned.
    “Are you serious?” she said.
    “Dead serious. I love you. We should be together, and once we’re married no one can stop us. Will you marry me, Judy?”
    “But when? How?”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. Meet me Friday morning about