Metzger's Dog

29

PERSONALS

619352. No need for more dramatics. I’ve read the book. Talk to me, and maybe we can start over.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Jorge Grijalvas opened his fingers and let the page of newspaper float to the desk.

“It means quite a bit, actually. You wanted to ride that silver saddle in the Pasadena parade. Now you’ll be able to afford to buy a horse to put under it. That’ll make you look a lot taller.”

Grijalvas drummed his fingers on the desk. “Mr. Gordon, this is the third time you’ve come to me. In the first instance you graciously allowed me to buy back my own merchandise, recovering some of my losses. The second time I was able to make a telephone call for seventy-five hundred dollars. I’ve enjoyed these transactions, I’ll have to admit, but I’m a busy man. What is it, exactly?”

Chinese Gordon said, “I’ve been having a hard time selling something. My customer agrees to the price, but when the time comes he just doesn’t seem to be able to part with the money.”

“What you’re selling is drugs. Why didn’t you come to me?”

“It’s not drugs.”

“What, then? If it’s worth anything, I’ll buy it.”

“It’s not transferable. I’ve got some evidence about somebody who can’t bear to see it in print and has lots of money. I offered him a perfectly good chance to buy it back, but he set up a trap.”

Grijalvas covered his eyes with his hands and chuckled. Chinese Gordon could see a gold pinky ring with a ruby the size of a pea. “Blackmail. I’m afraid you’ve learned the first lesson, Mr. Gordon. People who have lots of money are seldom the best targets for extortion. They have little to fear from the police, and if necessary lots of money buys lots of professional assistance. It’s a fool’s game.”

Chinese Gordon nodded his head. “That’s about the size of it, Jorge. My customer has so much professional help I don’t know where he gets it all. Sometimes I’m afraid he’ll spend so much just to make his payroll that there won’t be enough left for fools like me.”

“Take my advice and get out of that business. You’ll never see any money, and the richer your target is, the more likely he is to have connections who would be happy to hunt you down and kill you just to do him a favor.”

“I guess you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“I would know.”

Chinese Gordon stood up and shrugged. “Well, I’ll think about your advice, Jorge. God, I hate to give up on this one, though. I’ve gone to so much trouble already, and all that’s left is taking the money. That’s the hard part, and that’s why I wanted to cut you in for it—you know, lots of money buys lots of professional assistance.”

Grijalvas stared at the newspaper again. “How much professional assistance did you want?”

“Hell, you’d have been able to ride the winner of the Preakness in your parade and have yourself declared Rose Queen besides. The price for handling the payoff is a half million dollars.”

Grijalvas studied Chinese Gordon. This was not a man whose first offer would be more than 10 percent. Who had secrets worth five million? Grijalvas succeeded in keeping the tension out of his voice. “Just who is this person?”

“Well, actually it’s several people, but I’ve decided that the one I want to deal with is this one, because he’s the only one I have a picture of.” Chinese Gordon handed him a black-and-white photograph of a man with graying hair, shaking hands with another man. The photograph had been clipped from a magazine.

“Where did this come from?”

“I cut it out of a kind of newsletter in the library. He works for the National Research Foundation, handing out money to colleges and things.”

Grijalvas smiled. “That sounds like good practice for what you want him to do. What’s his name?”

“John Knox Morrison.”

Grijalvas shook his head. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Gordon. I can’t get involved in this kind of thing. There’s too much risk. A man like that might have called the FBI already, and there are not a few private corporations he could hire that specialize in handling embarrassing situations for wealthy families. But good luck to you.”

“Jorge, I think you’re making a hell of a mistake.”

“I’ve made a safe, prosperous life out of just such mistakes. But if you succeed and find yourself with a large amount of marked money to trade, I’ll be happy to help you out for very advantageous rates.”

When Chinese Gordon climbed into Kepler’s car he was humming “La Cucaracha.”

“Well,” asked Margaret, “will he do it?”

“Of course he’ll do it.” Chinese Gordon peered into the cooler in the back seat and examined Kepler’s supply of beer. “He can’t get to ride Seabiscuit to the moon on the Fourth of July if he doesn’t use some ingenuity.”

“What?”

“He’ll do it.”

THE DIRECTOR STEPPED INTO THE CONFERENCE ROOM, smiling. Pines followed, closing the door behind him, but not before Porterfield saw the two large men taking their posts outside in the hallway. He whispered to Goldschmidt, “Are those two yours?”

Goldschmidt shook his head. “I’ve never seen them before. He doesn’t want professionals. He thinks those football players will do him some good.”

The Director tossed a file on the table, but it landed harder than he’d intended, giving an audible slap and letting a single sheet skitter out and float to the floor. He bent over and picked it up, and when his face reappeared over the edge of the table, the smile was still there. “This will be quick, and you can all go on with your business. Ben, you were right.”

“About?”

“The people who have the Donahue papers are still willing to talk. We’ve still got a chance to salvage this situation. We heard a response to our advertisement last night.”

“Good. How much do we have to give them?”

“They want five million dollars.”

“I’m disappointed in them. They could have gotten twice that. But I’m glad you decided to get it over with.”

Pines nodded. “It won’t be long now.”

The Director said, “Of course, there will be some mopping up to do, and undoubtedly we’ll have to meet again when we’ve received the results of whatever interrogations occur.”

“Interrogations?” said Kearns. “What interrogations?”

Pines snapped, “Well, after all, we do hope to be able to take at least one or two of them alive. We ought to have the expertise to do that much.”

Porterfield closed his eyes and sighed. Goldschmidt said quietly, “You’re going to try to trap them again.”

The Director extended his hands in front of him as though he were holding up an invisible object for inspection. “Not try, my friends. This time we’ve got them. Last night they placed a telephone call to Morrison and set up the payoff.”

Porterfield opened his eyes. “To Morrison.”

“Yes. John Knox Morrison. His name was in the papers, so they must have thought he was important. They called him at home, and of course the call was recorded. This time we know where and when in advance, and we’re going to take this thing seriously.”

Kearns was tapping the table with a pencil but didn’t seem to be aware of it. “Has the voice been analyzed?”

“Yes,” said the Director. “That’s going to be your favorite part of it, Jim. It’s not a voiceprint we’ve ever seen before. But there was the tiniest trace of an accent, and the analysis people say it’s definitely a Spanish accent, and definitely Latin American. So that puts this group squarely in your bailiwick. This operation may very well solve some problems for your section.”

“I’d like to recommend that you reconsider,” said Porterfield. “In spite of the accent, these people might be domestic. We have to remember that the other thing they stole from that building was cocaine. If they’re domestic, then paying them off won’t have any consequence that we need to worry about. It may even induce them to stop taking risks and retire.”

Pines smirked. “And what if they’re a Latin American terrorist group? We’ve already given them lessons on taking over a major city. We give them five million dollars to help overthrow some friendly government? Brilliant.”

“I second Ben’s motion,” said Goldschmidt.

“Me too,” said Kearns.

Pines shouted, “I’d like to remind you people that this isn’t some damned men’s club. Nobody’s voting on anything here.”

The Director held up his invisible object again, but this time it seemed to have grown. “I’m afraid that I really do have to take this decision on myself. I can’t see myself as the first Director to yield to the temptation to take the easy solution and pay to keep someone quiet about the Company’s secrets.”

“Not by a long shot,” said Goldschmidt. “They’ve all done it. Half the world’s diplomatic corps has been on the payroll for twenty years, and the KGB pays the rest.”

“That’s hardly comparable to paying five million dollars to a gang of criminals, foreign or domestic. Besides the possible consequences, it’s just not cost effective. Five million dollars is a lot of money.”

Porterfield cleared his throat. “Have you ordered an accounting on this operation yet? I don’t mean what it’s cost Los Angeles or what it might cost the Company if the Donahue papers come out. I just wondered what we’ve spent so far.”

The Director contemplated his imaginary object again. “Oh, I suppose we could—”

Pines interrupted, his head shaking with what could have been rage, but seemed to be somehow debilitating, like a palsy. “No. No audit has been done, and nothing of the kind has been considered. This isn’t some project we’re working on. This is war. Five million or ten million or ten billion don’t mean a thing.”

“They do if you lose,” said Kearns.

Porterfield was watching the Director. His arms were still held before him, but his hands had gone limp, as though he had dropped the object he’d been holding. He seemed to be contemplating Pines.