Part 3 (2/2)
”You must be mistaken--” he began, and smiled then, and followed that with a frown. ”No, _I_ am,” he corrected himself, ”but then it's been a long time, Frank, and we've both changed.”
”. . . Into our traveling clothes, yes,” I said in my normal voice, seating myself across from him.
He caught the attention of a waiter as easily as if he'd had a lariat, and he asked me, ”What are you drinking?”
”Beer,” I said, ”any brand.”
The waiter overheard me, nodded, departed.
”Have you eaten?”
”No, I was waiting for a table, across the way there, when I spotted you.”
”I've already eaten,” he said. ”If I hadn't indulged a sudden desire for an after-dinner drink on my way out, I might have missed you.”
”Strange,” I said, then, ”Green Green.”
”What?”
”_Verde Verde. Grun. Grun_.”
”I'm afraid I don't follow you. Is that some kind of code-phrase I'm supposed to recognize?”
I shrugged.
”Call it a prayer for th-e confoundment of my enemies. What's new?”
”Now that you're here,” he said, ”I've got to talk with you, of course. May I join you?”
”Surely.”
So, when they called for Larry Conner, we moved to a table in one of the countless dining rooms that filled that floor of the tower. We'd have had a pleasant view of the bay on a clear night, but the sky was overcast and an occasional buoy-light and an unpleasantly rapid searchlight were all that shone above the dark swells of the ocean. Bayner decided that he had a bit of an appet.i.te left and ordered a full meal. He shoveled away a mound of spaghetti and a mess of b.l.o.o.d.y looking sausages before I'd half-finished my steak, and he moved on to shortcake, cheesecake and coffee.
”Ah, that was good!” he said, and he immediately inserted a toothpick into the upper portion of the first smile I'd seen him smile in, say, forty years.
”Cigar?” I offered.
”Thank you, I believe I will.”
The toothpick went away, the cigars were lit, the check arrived. I always do that in crowded places when they're slow to bring me the check. A lit stogie, a quick blue haze and they're right beside me with the tab.
”This is on me,” he announced as I accepted the bill.
”Nonsense. You're my guest.”
”Well . . . All right.”
After all, Bill Bayner is the forty-fifth wealthiest man in the galaxy. It isn't every day I get a chance to dine with successful people.
As we left, he said, ”I've got a place where we can talk. I'll drive.”
So we took his car, leaving a uniform and a frown behind us, and spent about twenty minutes driving around the city, shaking off hypothetical tails, and we finally arrived at an apartment building about eight blocks from Bartol Towers. As we entered the lobby, he nodded to the doorman, who nodded back to him.
”Think it'll rain tomorrow?” he asked.
”Clear,” said the doorman.
Then we rode up to the sixth floor. The wainscotting in the hallway was full of artificial gems, some of which had to be eyes. We stopped and he knocked at an ordinary-looking door: three, pause, two, pause, two. He'd change it tomorrow, I knew. A dour-faced young man in a dark suit answered the door, nodded, and departed when Bayner gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. Inside, he secured the door, but not before I'd noticed from its edge that a metal plate was sandwiched between its inner and outer veneers of fake wood. For the next five or ten minutes, he tested the room with an amazing variety of bug-detection equipment, after giving me a keep-quiet sign, and then set several bug-scramblers into operation as an added precaution, sighed, removed his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair, turned to me and said, ”It's okay to talk now. Can I fix you a drink?”
”Are you sure it'll be safe?”
He thought about it for a moment, then said, ”Yes.”
”Then I'll have bourbon and water if you've got it.”
He withdrew into the next room and returned after about a minute with two gla.s.ses. His was probably filled with tea if he was planning on talking any kind of business with me. I couldn't have cared less.
”So what's up?” I asked him.
”d.a.m.n it, the stories they tell about you are true, aren't they? How'd you find out?”
I shrugged.
”But you're not going to move in on me on this one, not the way you did on those Vegan mining franchises.”
”I don't know what you're talking about,” I said.
”Six years ago.”
I laughed.
”Listen,” I told him, ”I don't pay much attention to what my money does, so long as it's there when I want it. I trust various people to handle it for me. If I got a good deal in the Vegan system six years ago, it's because some good man in my employ lined it up. I don't run around shepherding money the way you do. I've delegated all that.”
”Sure, sure, Frank,” he said. ”So you're incognito on Driscoll and you arrange to run into me the night before I deal. Who'd you buy on my staff?”
”n.o.body, believe me.”
He looked hurt.
”I'd tell _you_,” he said. ”I won't hurt him. I'll just transfer him somewhere where he won't do any more harm.”
”I'm really not here on business,” I said, ”and I ran into you by pure chance.”
”Well, you're not going to grab the whole thing this time, whatever you've got up your sleeve,” he said.
”I'm not even in the running. Honest.”
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