Firebreak

9

Parker said, 'There's no promise you can make me, nothing you can say. Cosmopolitan decided to come after me, Cosmopolitan has to decide to go away, so Cosmopolitan has to start hurting. On the floor."

'They can back off right now," Meany insisted. He was trying to hold his dignity together, to be urgent without showing panic. "We don't have to do anything else about you at all."

"Once I leave here," Parker told him, "if you're still an asset, you're gonna decide your pride is hurt, you'll want—"

"Not me, pal," Meany said. "You come in here like this, you shoot George in the head just, what? Just attract attention? I'm not gonna pick any fights with you, wonder when you're gonna find out where I live. Cosmopolitan is out of this, as of now."

Parker looked over at Arthur. "Can he make an offer like that?"

"I don't think so," Arthur said. "He's just a guy works here, like I used to."

"I'll carry the message," Meany said.

'Yes, you will," Parker agreed. "On the floor."

"I'll carry it now! I'll make a phone call!"

"Who to?"

Meany licked his lips. His elbows were twitching back and forth from the strain of holding his hands together on top of his head. "One of the owners," he said. "A guy that can make the offer."

"What's his name?"

Meany didn't like doing this, but knew he had no choice. 'Joseph Albert."

Parker looked at Arthur. "Do you know that name?"

"I never knew any of the owners," Arthur said.

Meany said, "There's five guys have an interest in Cosmopolitan. Albert's the one I know, the one put me here."

"We'll try it," Parker decided, and glanced toward the window, with its view of the aisle and the stacked boxes. Sooner or later, someone would walk by out there. He said, "Arthur, get up and take a lace out of one of Meany's shoes."

"Right."

'You on the floor," Parker said, "get up."

The man scrambled to his feet, looking back and forth between Parker and Meany.

Parker said, "Move your friend against the wall under the window, then sit in that chair over there."

When the body was moved where Parker wanted, it couldn't be seen from the aisle outside. Parker turned back to Arthur, who now stood with a shoelace in his hand. "Good," he said. "Meany, put your hands in front of yourself like you're praying."

"I am praying," Meany said. He put his palms together.

Parker said, "Arthur, tie his thumbs together. Tight. Meany, is that a speakerphone?"

"Sure."

"Done," Arthur said, and stepped back from Meany.

There was one other chair in the room. Parker backed to it, saying, "Arthur, put the guns in the waste-basket. Meany, sit at the desk. Arthur, stand beside him and dial the phone. Copy down the number he calls."

Meany awkwardly fitted himself into his desk chair, cumbersome without the use of his hands. "Mr. Albert isn't gonna like this," he said.

'Tell Arthur the number."

It was a Manhattan area code. Arthur wrote it on Meany's desk pad, then pressed the speakerphone button and dialed. They all listened to two rings, and then a woman's voice said, "Enterprises, good afternoon."

"Mr. Albert, please."

"Who shall I say is calling?"

"Frank Meany."

"One moment."

Enterprises' on-hold music was Vivaldi. Through it,

Meany said to Parker, "Saying things on the phone isn't easy. You know what I mean, anybody listening in."

'You'll figure it out," Parker said.

"I'm motivated, you mean," Meany said.

They listened to Vivaldi for four minutes. Then the woman came back on the line to say, "Mr. Meany?"

'Yeah."

"If you're in the office, Mr. Albert will call you back in ten minutes."

"Now," Parker said, and the woman, confused, said, "What?"

'Tell Mr. Albert," Meany said, "it's kind of urgent. He can talk to me from right there."

"One moment."

Vivaldi again. Meany, apologetic, said, "He was going to another phone. You know, so it wouldn't be in the office."

"I'm not gonna spend much more time here," Parker said.

Meany looked down at his tied-together thumbs. "I'm calling him," he said. "I'm doing all I can do."

Vivaldi answered him, for another half-minute, and then a new voice, heavy, guarded, came on, saying, "Frank?"

"Hello, Mr. Albert." Meany sounded nervous in a different way now. Parker was an immediate lethal problem, Mr. Albert a longer-term problem, maybe also lethal. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," he said, "but I got a decision to make, and I need your okay."

"What decision?"

"Well, sir," Meany said, hunched forward over his praying hands while small lines of perspiration ran down either side of his face, "you remember we had an arrangement with a Mr. Parker after we stopped dealing with Mr. Charov."

There was a little pause, and then, 'That's right," Mr. Albert said.

"Well, Mr. Parker's here with me now," Meany said, "in the office, and he'd like to end the arrangement, you know, just not have a relationship with Cosmopolitan at all any more, and I told him I thought that was the right thing to do, but we both know I got to get an okay from higher up, so he thought I should call you, and I thought that was a good idea."

Mr. Albert said, "He's there with you now?"

"Yes, sir."

Parker said, "On the speakerphone."

"Ah," Mr. Albert said.

Parker said, "If you want, I could finish up with Frank here and come discuss it with you personally."

"No, I don't think— I don't think that would be necessary, Mr. Parker."

"But the other thing is," Parker said, "I'll need some way to get in touch with Paul Brock. I mean, if you and I are finished with one another, then that just leaves the Paul Brock situation, and I think I ought to deal with that myself. Not put you people to any more effort."

There was a little pause, and Mr. Albert said, "Paul Brock is a valuable asset to our company, Mr. Parker."

"I understand that," Parker said. "Like Frank here."

"Ah. What it comes down to is, I have a choice to make."

Parker waited. Meany said, "I think Mr. Parker's way is gonna work out best for us, Mr. Albert."

"On balance," Mr. Albert said, "I believe you're right. So Mr. Parker needs a way to get in touch with Brock."

Parker said, "Yeah, I need that."

"Frank, you go ahead and give Mr. Parker Brock's address. I don't believe I have it here myself."

"Okay, Mr. Albert," Meany said.

Parker leaned a little closer to the phone. He said, "But you do go along with Frank's idea here, that we don't have any more business together."

"Happily," Mr. Albert said. "To be honest, I always felt it was a diversification we shouldn't have gone into. We let... a certain proprietary sense cloud our judgment."

"Everybody makes mistakes," Parker said.

"Well, I'm happy we have the opportunity to correct this one," Mr. Albert said. "Frank, is there anything else?"

"No, sir," Meany said, eager to get this finished, now that it seemed to be working out. "Just needed your okay to end the arrangement with Mr. Parker."

"It's ended. Goodbye, Mr. Parker," Mr. Albert said, and the dial tone sounded until Arthur found the button to switch off the speakerphone.