Graveyard of Memories

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I rode west, practicing the disguised voice I’d used with Miyamoto, making sure I had it down because unlike Miyamoto, McGraw was used to me in English. I found a payphone and called him. It was late, but they put me through. “You left me a message,” I said.

There was a pause. “That’s right. I appreciate you getting back to me. I understand you’re a problem solver. And you come highly recommended.”

“Who recommended me?

“A fellow named Miyamoto. And some other mutual friends of ours.”

“What kind of problem do you need solved?”

“I’d prefer if we could discuss it in person.”

“I don’t meet people in person. Not unless they’re the problem I was hired to solve.”

He laughed — a little nervously, I thought. “Well, let’s just see if we can establish the general parameters. First, I have to ask this. If the problem you were hired to solve were…an acquaintance of yours, would you still be interested?”

“That would depend on the price.”

“Well, that’s a sensible answer. It’s good to hear. And what would be the price if the problem were named…John Rain?”

I paused as though surprised. “That’s a bit more than an acquaintance you’re talking about. An old friend, in fact.”

“Is that a problem of principle, or price?”

“The price would be fifty thousand U.S.”

“Fifty thousand? That’s five times what you charged Miyamoto.”

“Miyamoto’s problem was a stranger. For this one, I’ll need extra. For my conscience.”

McGraw laughed. “Tell you what. Twenty-five. For your conscience.”

“The fifty is nonnegotiable. If you want it done, I’ll get it done. But the price is fifty thousand.”

There was a pause. “All right. Agreed. Payment upon delivery.”

“No. Half upon delivery. The other half up front.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t know you. I’m not going to leave twenty-five thousand dollars someplace and then have you tell me it wasn’t there.”

“We would face the same difficulty upon completion.”

“Upon completion, at least I’ll have completion. Before that, all I have is risk.”

I paused as though torn between the promise of the big payday, on the one hand, and bending my rules, on the other.

“All right,” I said. “But you know what the collateral will be in the event of default.”

“Yes, I do.”

I thought of Mad Dog. Was I going to have to worry about someone else at the ambush beyond my alter ego?

“One other matter,” I said. “Have you hired anyone else for this?”

“What? No, why would I do that?”

“I wouldn’t know your reasons. Redundancy, perhaps. A plan B. That’s not what matters. What matters is, you need to know my rules. When you hire me, it’s an exclusive. I won’t tolerate someone else tripping up the smooth running of my operation. That is also nonnegotiable, and also subject to collection of collateral upon default.”

“I understand. You don’t have to worry, there’s no one else. Hell, how many people do you think I could staff this with, anyway, at fifty grand a pop?”

“Again, I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, I’ll tell you, then. You’re it, and that’s it. Now, how soon can you do this?”

“Impossible to say right now. It depends on too many factors.”

“I might have something that could fix him in time and place for you. Would that be worth a discount?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. All right, I’ll give it to you anyway. I need this done.”

“How will you get it to me?”

“Check in with me again tomorrow. With a little luck, I’ll have something then.”

“Regardless, we have a contract?”

“If you can guarantee success within a week, we do.”

“I can’t guarantee it. But I can tell you it’s likely. With good information from you, very likely.”

“Well, if you want the money, get it done. And hopefully I’ll have more intel for you tomorrow.”

I hung up. I should have felt relieved, excited, triumphant.

Instead, all I could feel was that weight. I wondered if I would ever get used to it.