26

Z and I went a couple of rounds for the first time. Z did well. Even with the big, soft sixteen-ounce mittens, he rocked me a couple of times. When we were done he was breathing hard, but so was I. I was breathing normally a little before he was. But his recovery time was pretty good.

“You’re a quick study,” I said.

He grunted. It was hard to tell what the grunt meant, because the gloves had Velcro closures instead of laces, and Z was pulling on the closure strap with his teeth. I took it as “thanks.”

We took a shower.

“Probably can ease off on the intervals today,” I said as we were toweling off.

“No,” he said. “Starting to feel in shape.”

“Your wind is good,” I said.

“Not good enough,” he said.

I nodded.

“You know a guy named Elliot Silver?” I said.

Z shook his head.

“Nope.”

“How about Carson Ratoff?”

“Nope.”

“Anything unusual about the financing of Jumbo’s picture?”

“I don’t know,” Z said. “Nobody told me.”

“Window dressing,” I said.

“What?”

“Part of his costume,” I said. “I’m so important I have to have a bodyguard, and not just any bodyguard, I got one looks like Jim Thorpe, all-American.”

“I’m lucky he didn’t want me to wear a feather,” Z said. “They making a threat?”

“Sounds like one,” I said.

“It bother you?” Z said.

“I’ve been threatened before,” I said.

“But you won’t back off,” Z said.

“Can’t,” I said. “I start backing off, and I’ll be looking for another kind of work.”

“What would you do instead of this?”

“Can’t think of anything,” I said.

“So you just don’t allow it to bother you,” Z said.

“That’s about right,” I said.

He nodded slowly.

“Maybe I should sort of hang around with you,” he said.

“Backup?” I said.

“Sure,” Z said.

“Can you shoot?”

“Hunted since I could walk,” he said. “Five hundred yards, I can knock down a running antelope. It wasn’t a sport for us. We were after meat.”

“How about a handgun.”

“Got one, never really used it,” Z said. “I guess if you’re close enough.”

“You got a license in Massachusetts?”

“Yeah, production company got it for me, through the Film Bureau, I suppose. Somebody took me over for fingerprints and a picture.”

“There’s a range in Dorchester,” I said. “We can go over there and shoot a little, part of the training program.”

“So I’m in?” Z said. “Be like your bodyguard?”

“Give you an opportunity to emulate my sophistication,” I said.

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