Trouble in Paradise

Nineteen

“I need a boom guy,” Macklin said.

He was leaning on a railing on the Baltimore waterfront looking across at the aquarium, talking to a tall, bony red-haired man named Fran.

“Uh-huh?” Fran said.

Fran wore small, round, gold-rimmed glasses. His wiry red hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail. He had on a short-sleeved green shirt and khaki pants and Hush Puppies. His bare arms were heavily freckled. He had a gold earring.

“You are the best around.”

“True,” Fran said. “What’d you have in mind?”

“I need a bridge blown.”

“Legally?”

“ ’Course not.”

“What else?”

“Other things. I’ll tell you when you need to know.”

“Maybe I need to know to decide if I want the job.”

“Job’s worth more than a million.”

“Total?”

“Each.”

A water taxi pulled up to the dock below them and some tourists got out and headed up the stairs toward Harbor Place.

“Each is good,” Fran said. “Who’s in it?”

“So far, Crow, JD, Faye, and me,” Macklin said.

“She waited for you.”

“Yes.”

Fran nodded.

“Where’s this going to go down?” he said.

Macklin smiled and shook his head.

“Keep thinking about the million,” Macklin said. “It’s what you need to know.”

“You wouldn’t have Crow if you didn’t think it would take some doing,” Fran said.

“Better to have him and not need him,” Macklin said, “than need him and not have him.”

“Maybe,” Fran said. “How many guys you need all together?”

“One more after you,” Macklin said.

“I’m married now,” Fran said.

“Congratulations.”

“Four kids.”

“How about that,” Macklin said.

“I been legit since I got out. Working for the city, mostly slum clearance.”

“Making the big buck?”

“Not this big,” Fran said. “How long will it take?”

“You’ll probably be gone a week, ten days.”

“Ten days?”

“It’s a big job. You’ll need some time.”

“Ten days,” Fran said, “I could blow up Baltimore.”

“You have to look at the site,” Macklin said. “Decide what you need. Then you have to get it. And install it. It’ll take some time. You can’t get away ten days for a million bucks?”

“Old lady’ll croak,” Fran said. “I tell her I’m leaving her alone with four kids for ten days.”

“You’ll have to deal with your wife,” Macklin said.

The two of them were silent then, their forearms resting on the railing, the littered sea water washing tamely against the pier. The harbor was busy with small boats and behind them Harbor Place was raucous with teenagers.

“Okay,” Fran said finally. “I’ll deal with her.”

Macklin smiled and put out his hand. Fran shook it slowly.

“I’ll be in touch,” Macklin said.