The Company Man

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Hayes went northeast to where Netwon met the Sound and enormous town houses lined its shores. It was a famously pretty area called the Garden District, as it showcased the few picturesque scraps of coastline and the only worthwhile parks. He checked his watch as he entered the park lanes that led down to the water, but it wasn’t necessary. He could already tell by the colorful lights beyond that the Tidetop Market was about to start.

The idea for the Market had originally been taken from Dockland, where it was common for small watercraft to be refitted as seaborne vending booths, little houseboats and sturdy rafts that flitted back and forth to harry ships and people on the shore for business. On weekend mornings they would all cling to the wharfs and the docks, setting up temporary markets where one could buy all sorts of exotic fruits and spices and meats, not to mention goods that had arrived in the country by suspicious means and could not be sold anywhere else. And then someone in the Garden District had thought that was a very clever idea indeed and chose to organize their own cleaner, more upstanding version of the same thing, arranged as a community festival. It soon came to be considered one of the most charming attractions Evesden had to offer.

The boats were strictly screened by the organizers. Nothing of any ill repute or anything too upsetting. An exotic atmosphere was encouraged, however, and the boats themselves had to be specially engineered. Some mechanical genius had figured out a way for all the boats to latch onto one another, forming a tight grid of little dinghies and skiffs that reached out into the water. Once they were secure, fans of the market could wander through the bobbing paper lanterns and waterborne shops, sometimes stopping to watch a fantastic meal prepared on a bed of coals on the steel floor of a pontoon. It was a popular place for children of the wealthy, and if you didn’t want to spend time in the market you could always get a table at Sutherland’s, the restaurant just down the river, and watch the multicolored lights drift and dip along the water.

Hayes got to the market just as evening began, dressed in his very best suit. He waited at the bar of a wine booth that had a clear view of the market entrance, sipping rice wine as slowly as he could. He wondered how long he would have to wait. Hopefully it would not be for more than an hour; the market would soon be a crowded place, and he already felt the uncomfortable itching at the backs of his eyes that told him a migraine was coming. But he knew his man took his family to the Tidetop Market every time he could, so surely he’d be here eventually.

Hayes was right. He arrived just after seven, arm in arm with his lovely wife, his daughters precious in their little blue and red dresses. Hayes guessed the one in red was Jessica, as he remembered she was the older one, and the child in blue would be Honoria. They had grown since he’d last seen them. The wife, Elizabeth or whatever, she seemed to be doing all right, smiling emptily into the night sky. And Teddy seemed to be doing fine as well. Old Teddy Montrose from Telecommunications, gleefully ignorant as always. He should have been thanking God and Jesus and Mother Mary he’d never put a toe out of line, considering what Brightly had on him.

Hayes rose and tracked the family through the market, watching them stop among the flower booths to purchase a crackly little pastry from a woman in a straw hat. Hayes browsed booths in their wake, watching out of the corner of his eye and nodding absently as the vendors tried to talk him into a deal. Then when Teddy split off to go buy something special for the girls Hayes made his move.

He crossed to the other side of the market, then turned and began weaving across the pathways toward Teddy. When he came into view Hayes stopped with an amiably confused look on his face and said, “Teddy?”

Teddy slowed as he passed, then stopped, a puzzled smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Teddy Montrose? Is that you?”

“Well, yes,” said Teddy. “Have we…”

Hayes grinned and laughed gaily, throwing out his arms like a long-separated relative. “Why, don’t say you don’t remember me, Teddy old boy! Don’t say you’ve forgotten me?”

Teddy laughed with him. “Well, I’m… I’m sorry, I really… It’s my fault, I really don’t recall…”

“Why, it’s old Carter, from the company,” said Hayes. He stuck his hand out and gave him a robust shake. “John Carter. Marketing Division. We met on the trip, last year. Don’t you remember?”

“Business trip?” said Teddy. “Last year?”

“Yes, certainly. We had a rousing old time with the boys, didn’t we? Had a lot of fun, right, Teddy? Got up to some trouble?”

“From the business trip?” said Teddy again, now no longer trying to hide his confusion. “But to where?”

“To Dockland, Teddy,” said Hayes. He lowered his voice. “To Dockland.”

Teddy’s brow crinkled. “What? I never went to Dockland. Not on business. I would never go to such a place.”

“But you did, Teddy,” said Hayes. His voice dropped to a murmur, nearly drowned out by the little flute quartet playing in a booth nearby. “You did. You went to Stella’s, don’t you remember? And you got up to so much fun there. With the boys and all. Do you remember?”

Teddy snapped to attention at the mention of that name. He stared at Hayes and the color drained from his face. “Wh-what did you say?”

“The boys, Teddy,” said Hayes softly. “Don’t you remember all the fun you had with the boys?”

Teddy began to tremble. He swallowed and said, “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned and began to leave.

“I don’t think I’d be leaving if I were you, Teddy,” said Hayes, louder. “It wouldn’t be wise.”

Teddy froze and looked back. “Wise? What do you mean?”

Hayes did not say anything. He just smiled grimly at him.

Teddy walked closer. “What do you mean? What do you want?”

Hayes pointed up the river at Sutherland’s. “To talk, Teds. There, at the restaurant. I’ll be at the bar at nine. And we’ll talk then, Teddy. Discuss what’s to be done with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nine,” said Hayes. “Be there. That’s all you need to know.”

“You can’t… you can’t do this to me,” whispered Teddy.

“I’m absolutely sure I can,” Hayes said. “Tell your wife you met a business partner. One with important news. Or tell her whatever you fucking like, it’s nothing to me. But you had better be there.”

“Or what?”

“Or else, this?” he said. He waved about at the market, then at Teddy’s family. Then he brought his hand to his face and blew into his fingers, as though he’d blown them apart into nothing. Then he smiled at Teddy and ran one finger along the brim of his hat and walked away.

Teddy was there at eight forty-five, covered in clammy sweat and shaking like a newborn lamb. He came and sat before Hayes, bent like a mourner, eyes adrift.

“What did you tell the wife?” asked Hayes.

“B-business partner,” said Teddy. Tears began spilling from his eyes to dribble down his cheeks.

Hayes glanced out the window at the flotilla of the market. “They’re out on the boats now?”

He nodded.

“All right. We’ll try to make this quick, then.”

“How do you know?” asked Teddy desperately. “How do you know about… about…”

Hayes decided to give him the truth. About Brightly and the days of following him. Hayes couldn’t help but talk about the man’s family as he did, discussing little Honoria and Jessica and the days he’d spent watching them. With each passing minute Teddy grew paler and paler. Finally he began sobbing outright.

“I’m a sick man,” he cried at the end of it. “I’m a sick, sick man.”

“Here now, buck up, Ted.” Hayes glanced around the bar. “You don’t want us thrown out, do you?”

“I’m such a sick man! So sick!”

“Yes,” said Hayes tersely. “Yes, I rather expect you are. Very sick.”

“I tried to stop. I tried to stop it. Tried not to go there. But