Wild Card

57

Tim Tigner opened his bag, shook out the laundry into a pile on the floor, and threw himself on the bed. As he did, his throwaway rang.

“Yes?” he said wearily.

“We need to meet today,” Damien said.

“It’ll have to be tomorrow,” Tigner replied. “I drove all the way back with no rest, and I need to sleep.”

“Today,” Damien said.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Don’t call again today.” Tigner hung up and went to sleep without undressing.

Bob and Sherry moved her things into his Brooklyn place in the dead of night, and began to settle in.

Sherry flopped onto the sofa. “My doctor says I can have an occasional drink,” she said. “I’m feeling occasional.”

Bob poured them both a drink and flopped down beside her. “What did he have to say about sex?” he asked.

“Oh, he said I had to avoid sex,” she replied.

“What?”

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” she said, laughing. “He said sex is okay, too, as long as I’m on top.”

“Did he actually say that?”

“He did. He said it’s better for my brain.”

“Maybe no sex for a while is better for your brain.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Yes, I am. How quickly can you get naked?”

“Shortly after I finish this drink,” she said.

They both drank for a while without talking.

“You know,” she said finally, “as tough as this has been, I think it’s worked out well. I mean, getting shot in the head is no picnic, but I don’t remember most of it, and as a result, I’ve met some very nice people, and I’ve gotten away from some very bad ones.”

“On behalf of everyone you’ve met, I thank you,” Bob said.

She jumped up and started shedding clothes. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

Bob was ready, too.

Tigner slept through the night until early the following afternoon. After a shower and shave, he called Damien.

“It’s about time,” Damien said.

“Same place, five-thirty?”

“I’ll be there.” They both hung up.

Damien got there first and, for a moment, was afraid Tigner wasn’t going to show.

Tigner sat down fifteen minutes later. “I’ve got to get a motorcycle,” he said.

“Why?”

“The traffic in this city is too much. I need to be able to drive between lanes of traffic, the way I did in Paris.”

“Makes sense,” Damien said, “except for the head injuries.”

“I always wear a helmet.”

“Maybe a motorcycle is a good idea,” Damien said.

“For work, you mean?”

“I mean that Barrington lives in a house that’s a fortress. When he goes out, he leaves in an armored car from his own garage, and he doesn’t take long walks. Not since we’ve been trying to kill him, anyway.”

“So, I’ve got to catch him getting in or out of the car?”

“What a good idea!” Damien said.

“I’ve got to get a motorcycle, then.”

“You’re right.”

“How much are you offering for the head of Stone Barrington?”

Damien almost mentioned that he and Harod had decided that another payment would not be made, then he caught himself. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking two hundred fifty thousand dollars,” Tigner said.

“You were going to kill four people for two hundred thousand dollars,” Damien said.

“That was before you told me how difficult and dangerous it was going to be. I can’t sit in some comfortable perch and snipe at him; I have to be out on the street with no cover, and it’s hard to make an escape in those conditions. You wouldn’t want me to get caught, would you?”

“No,” Damien said. “Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“When?”

“It’s in the briefcase,” he said.

“Open it.”

Damien opened it, gave him a peek at the money, and closed it again.

“Done,” Tigner said. “But after this, we’re not going to do any business for a while.”

“I agree,” Damien replied. “It would be too dangerous for both of us. This one, however, we need done in a hurry.”

“There’s no hurrying where assassination is concerned. There’s too much planning and, in this case, on the street, too much can go wrong.”

“I see your point,” Damien said, “but...”

“I’ll try to make it happen soon,” Tigner said, “but no promises. If that doesn’t work for you, you can have your money back.” He set the briefcase in front of Damien.

Damien moved it back to him. “Do the best you can,” he said.

“I always do the best I can.”

“There was some question about your last job being incomplete.”

“The man is out of the race,” Tigner said, getting to his feet. “We won’t be meeting again for a long while.” He walked out of the restaurant carrying the briefcase.

Damien finished his drink. He had a good feeling about this one.

Joan buzzed Stone. “Dino on one.”

“Good morning,” Stone said.

“Not really,” Dino replied.

“What’s the problem?”

“Ken Burrows has become a problem.”

“Ken has always been a problem.”

“He’s backsliding on indicting the Thomases for anything.”

“Maybe that’s not a terrible thing,” Stone said.

“How is it not a terrible thing?”

“Three ways,” Stone said. “First, the Thomases have sold up and will soon scatter to the four winds.” He paused.

“And what are the other two ways?”

“I forget,” Stone said. “But trust me, they’re no longer a problem.”

“So, you’re going to start leaving the house like a normal human being?”

“I’m not going to let the bastards turn me into a turtle.”

“Okay, how about dinner tonight?”

“Patroon, at seven-thirty?” Stone said.

“Done. Just me. Viv is somewhere in South America.”