Created, the Destroyer

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

«What do you mean, three thousand dollars?» It was Smith's voice, sharp and angry.

Remo rested the phone between his shoulder and chin, as he rubbed his hands for circulation in the cold telephone booth at Pennsylvania Station in New York.

«That's right, three grand. I need it for a ring. I'm in New York. We made a side trip. She insisted on Tiffany's.»

«She insisted on Tiffany's?»

«Yes.»

«Why does it have to be Tiffany's?»

«Because she wants it that way.»

«Three thousand…» Smith mused.

«Look,» Remo said, trying to keep his voice from carrying outside the booth. «We've spent thousands and haven't penetrated that place yet. With just a crummy ring, I'm going to waltz in and you're bitching over a measly three grand?»

«Three grand isn't measly. Just a second, I want to check something. Tiffany's. Tiffany's. Tiffany's. Hmmmm. Yes, we can.»

«What?»

«You'll have a charge account there when you arrive.»

«No cash?»

«Do you want to get the ring today?»

«Yes.»

«Do it by charge.»

«And remember,» Smith continued. «You've only got a couple of days left.»

«Right,» Remo said.

«And another thing. When engagements are broken, girls often give the ring back if they're…»

Remo hung up the phone and leaned back against the glass wall. He felt as if someone had drained his intestines.