16.

Julius Roach sat in the den of his penthouse with Central Park behind him through the picture window. His forearms rested on his thighs. He turned a brandy snifter slowly in his big soft hands.

“I’m not blaming you,” he said to Burke. “I hired you. You did what you thought needed to be done.”

Sitting opposite, on the leather couch, Burke waited without speaking. He too had a brandy snifter. It sat on the end table next to him.

“And there won’t be any police trouble. Frank and I have already seen to that.”

Burke waited.

“But I’ve known Frank Boucicault for a long time,” Julius said.

He stopped for a moment and sipped his brandy.

“God, that’s good,” he said. “Money can buy you a lot.”

“I hear,” Burke said.

“Frank and I go way back,” Julius said. “And, damn it, Burke, I can’t have some guy working for me shooting up some guys working for Frank.”

“Because?”

“Because business doesn’t work that way.”

“Which means?”

“Which means I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Lauren?”

“Frank has promised to control his son.”

“Why didn’t he do that a year ago? Save everybody a lot of trouble.”

Julius smiled and swirled his brandy, watching the liquid move in the glass.

“You don’t have children, Mr. Burke?”

“No.”

Julius nodded.

“Children are difficult, Mr. Burke, and it is often easier, except in extremis, to give them their head.”

“But now it’s extremis?”

“Yes,” Julius said. “I will give you two weeks’ pay, and I have put in a word for you with a number of people I know who might wish to employ you.”

“Thanks,” Burke said.

Julius stood. Holding the brandy in his left hand, he put out his right.

“There’s no animosity,” he said. “You did a good job, but circumstances...” He shrugged.

Burke didn’t stand.

“One more thing,” Burke said.

“Which is?”

“We need Lauren in here to let her know what’s going on.”

“I’ll inform her,” Julius said.

Burke shook his head.

“She and I need to say goodbye,” he said.

“You may write her a letter,” Julius said.

Burke shook his head.

“I can have you removed,” Julius said.

Burke sat motionless on the couch. His expression didn’t change. Julius looked at him for a time.

“But not easily,” Julius said finally.

He went to his desk and picked up the phone and dialed. He spoke into the phone briefly and hung up. In a moment Lauren came into the den. She was smoking a cigarette, and wearing white silk lounging pajamas under a white silk robe.

“The men in my life,” she said and sat on the big leather couch beside Burke and curled her legs under her.

Burke said nothing. Lauren took a drag on her cigarette.

Julius said, “Mr. Burke is leaving us.”

Lauren froze, her forefingers touching her lips, the thoughtless cigarette smoke exhaling gently.

“No,” she said.

Julius nodded yes. Burke said nothing.

“You can’t go,” she said to him.

Burke shrugged. Lauren took the cigarette away from her mouth.

“You can’t,” she said again, leaning toward him.

Julius said, “It is not up to him, Lauren.”

Lauren ignored Julius.

“Without you, he’ll get me.”

“Frank Boucicault has promised to contain Louis,” Julius said.

“You are the thing I hang onto,” Lauren said. “You keep me from sliding into the mess.”

“Lauren,” Julius said, “please, stop the dramatics. I hired Burke when he was needed. I can fire him when he’s not needed.”

Still leaning toward Burke, with her eyes fixed on his face, Lauren said, “I need him.”

“You don’t,” Julius said. “Frank and I have spoken. Louis will not trouble you further.”

“Burke,” Lauren said.

“I don’t make the rules,” Burke said.

“Please,” Lauren said.

Burke didn’t answer.

“He’s a sickness,” Lauren said. “You’re the cure.”

“Enough,” Julius said. “It is time to bid Mr. Burke goodbye.”

For the first time, she looked at her father.

“You miserable prick,” she said. “You don’t care what happens to me.”

“Enough of that language, Lauren,” Julius said.

“Fuck you, enough,” Lauren said. “Burke’s the only stable thing in my whole sick life. Ever. My mother’s a drunk, my father’s a crook, and all the men I ever meet are degenerates. Don’t you dare tell me, enough.”

Julius folded his arms across his chest and said nothing. Burke stood suddenly and walked to the window and looked out down at the park.

“I’ll go with you,” Lauren said to Burke. “I’ll go where you go, anywhere, just so I’m with you.”

Burke stared out the window, his eyes following a horse-drawn carriage moving slowly uptown through the park.

“You have to take care of me,” Lauren said. “No one has ever taken care of me... You have to take care of me.”

Burke turned from the window and looked at her silently. Then he took in some air in a long slow breath and let it out.

“I can’t take care of anyone,” Burke said. “Not the way you mean.”

The muscles in Burke’s cheeks twitched. The lines around his mouth were very deep. There was sweat on his forehead.

“There,” Julius said to Lauren. “Does that satisfy you?”

Lauren’s breath was short. It sounded raspy. Her chest rose and fell arrythmically. Tears ran down her face. She kept looking at Burke. He shook his head. She looked at him some more and then her eyes dulled, and her breathing began to regularize. She turned and looked at her father.

“If you think I was corrupt before...” she said.

She stood suddenly and dropped her cigarette on the rug and walked out of the den without looking back. She left the door open behind her. No one moved for a moment. Then Julius came over and picked up the burning cigarette and snubbed it out in an ashtray. He scuffed the burn mark on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, as Burke left.

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