Part 10 (1/2)
”Open up,” he demanded.
”Not sure that's a good idea,” I said. ”You seem a little edgy right now.”
”Want edgy? I'll give you edgy.” He snaked his hand under his suit coat and whipped out a coal-black service automatic, which he leveled at the peephole. Oh, this just gets better and better Oh, this just gets better and better, I thought. I pondered whether a bullet fired at that range would blast through the grill or bounce off, but decided not to push the experiment to the testing stage. I opened the door and let Hines in. Good news: He put his gun away.
”I need a drink,” he said, exactly like a man who, well, needed a drink.
”So do I,” I replied, ”but this is a dry house.”
He looked at me like I had syphilis. ”Jesus f.u.c.king Christ,” he said, ”you don't even drink?”
”I drink,” I said. ”Just not at home.” Flas.h.i.+ng back to my recent one-man tequila fiesta, I mentally added, at least not when I can help it at least not when I can help it.
Hines paced anxiously back and forth, his eyes darting everywhere as if looking for lurking monsters. What could have turned him upside down so fast?
”You met Yuan,” he said suddenly.
”Yep.”
”How'd that go?”
”I eased him in. He thinks I'm a trust-fund baby with more money than common sense.” Hines eyed me suspiciously. I suppose he was measuring my expression for some sign of a lie, but the day has not yet dawned that a fibbie, bent or straight, can read me that well. All the same, he didn't seem satisfied with my report.
”So he makes you for a mark,” Hines said. ”How's that gonna help?”
”See it from his point of view,” I vamped. ”A free fish jumps into your boat. No matter what else you've got going on, you don't throw it back. Never leave money lying on the table, right? Besides, he's lonely. Far from home. Might want someone to talk to. I'll take an interest in his investment strategies. People like it when you let them teach.” This last comment was a none-too-veiled reference to Hines's playacting back in the pigeon-drop phase of all this. I half wanted him to take it as a compliment, like I'd borrowed a page from his playbook.
If he was flattered, he didn't let on. ”Any way he's onto you?”
”Nope.”
”Mirplo says he looks like a smart cookie.”
”Mirplo's about as good a judge of character as Eva Braun. You want to take his word for it, you put him in charge. Otherwise, man, back off. I've got to have room to move.”
”You should've reported in as soon as your meeting was done.”
”I should've gone into sports medicine,” I answered. ”But we all make mistakes. Don't dwell, that's what I say.”
”You've got a smart mouth, kid.”
”I know,” I said. ”It gets me into trouble. But also out. It's about a wash.”
”I don't think you appreciate how much trouble you're in right now.”
”What do you want from me?” I asked. ”My career's on the line. My freedom.” I waved vaguely toward his hidden shoulder holster. ”Maybe more. Like I said, I should've gone into sports medicine. What's done is done. I'm not going to have a bad day just because you say so. To an a.s.shole, the whole world looks dark.”
”What's that supposed to mean?”
”Nothing. It's just a saying.”
”Are you calling me an a.s.shole?”
”Never to your face, uhm ... detective? Commander? I don't know your rank.”
”Don't worry about my f.u.c.king rank,” said Hines.
”Fine,” I shrugged. ”Then what should I worry about?”
”Cracking Yuan like an egg, and fast.” There it was. The source of his urgency. Hines was putting the pressure of a deadline on me. I wondered who was putting the pressure of a deadline on him, and what would transpire if he didn't meet it. Not, I suspected, a party with cake. Then, from out of nowhere, he hit me with, ”The Merlin Game, is it still set to go?”
”c.o.c.ked and locked,” I said. ”Unless you screwed it up.”
”I haven't touched it.”
”Well, a.s.suming your list of leads was good ...”
”It is,” he snapped.
Now that I knew Hines wasn't an investment counselor, I wondered how he got his hands on such a list, but as he seemed in no mood to play twenty questions, I let it go for now. ”Then I'm saying there's probably around three hundred grand worth of candy apples just waiting to drop off the tree.”
”Shake it,” he said.
”What?”
”Shake the tree. Get the money. Launch the f.u.c.king game.”
”You know that's illegal,” I said.
”I'll worry about the law. You worry about your a.s.s.” He didn't have to spell it out for me-I was reasonably confident I'd received my second coy death threat of the day, a personal best. Hines dug around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. ”s.h.i.+p the money here,” he said. ”All of it.” I looked at the paper. It was a bank routing slip. Destination Liechtenstein, as far as I could tell.
”That wasn't what we agreed,” I said.
”New agreement,” he said. ”I get the money. You get your life.” Okay, well, there wasn't even anything coy about that.
”What about Allie?”
For some reason he punched me. I really don't know why. He decked me good, though. Spun me around like a pinata and laid me out on the floor.
Where I figured, You know what? As long as I'm already down here and all, I might as well just sleep You know what? As long as I'm already down here and all, I might as well just sleep.
Then I pa.s.sed out a little.
When I awoke, Hines was gone and the phone was ringing. I answered with a groggy, ”h.e.l.lo?”
It was Hines. ”You still alive?”
”I guess.”