Recoil

“You mean you don’t believe it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you this much. If C.K.’s straight with us and if he uses his head, what he’ll do, he’ll think it over and then he’ll come to me. He’s putting himself in my hands because he knows I’m a fair guy and I’ll give him a hearing and all that baloney. He comes in, he shows a white flag, he tells me Zeck was lying. Then he says, ‘Look, Frank, here’s how we prove who’s telling the truth. This guy Zeck, he’ll come back to my office or he’ll telephone and tell me how to deliver that hundred kay, the payoff money.’ That’s when we set a trap and we grab Zeck when he comes for the money. We find out the truth from Zeck and that lets C.K. off the hook. That’s what C.K. will do if he’s using his head.”

Ezio said, “That’s supposing Charlie’s been on the level with us.”

A

Ezio said, “That’s for sure. Plenty of brains and oily as hell but no guts at all, you ask me.”

Frank said, “A

She said, “That’s what worries me.”

“You mean the feds,” Ezio said. “Spill his guts.”

“It could put us in a very tough place. He knows a lot.”

“He’s a lawyer,” Ezio pointed out. “He can’t spill confidential information.”

“Can’t he? Who’s going to stop him?”

“Even if he does, they can’t use anything in court. Privileged communications.”

A

“I think,” Frank said, “I think we pay attention to what A

“We’ve sweated these things out before,” Ezio said. “I guess we can do it again this time. But I’d rather cancel Charlie Gillespie, myself.”

“If you can find him. But you haven’t been finding people too well lately.”

“We’re working hard on that, Frank, you know we are.”

“Then show me some results.”

“We’re looking for needles in haystacks.”

Frank brooded at the desk top. “I know you are.”

2

They watched a half hour of the Carson show and then Frank reached for the remote switch on the bedside table and turned it off. “Too many goddamn commercials.”

She stretched and smiled drowsily. Frank rubbed the skin on top of his head; then he placed both hands over it and leaned back against the pillows. “I’ve got trouble you know.”

“We’ll get through it. We always have.”

“Big trouble. Word gets around that you’re losing your grip, that’s the biggest trouble you can have. Too many things slipping through my fingers, A

His head swiveled under his hands. He looked down at her.

“We’re alive, Frank. We’ve got a lot of good things.”

“That could end real sudden. Word gets around, old Frank Pastor spent too much time in the slammer, he got softened up, he’s lost his edge. They start moving in on you like hyenas. You start that kind of a fight, you don’t win it.”

“Then do something spectacular to take their minds off it. To convince them you’re still the top.”

“Like what?”

She said, “I was in the doctor’s office, in the waiting room. I was reading the Sunday Times. You know in the main news section they have that follow-up column about—”

“What were you doing in a doctor’s office?”

“Finding out about the tests.”

“So you’ve been home six hours and you haven’t told me yet?”

“The mood you’ve been in—”

“A

“He told me I’m pregnant.”

“Jesus fucking H. Christ.”

3

He romped up out of the bed and stood with his arms akimbo and his face thrust out toward her and a mock-ferocious scowl. “She comes home, she spends the whole night gri

“We’re going to have a kid.”

“I’ll be a son of a bitch.” He stared at her. He didn’t even blink.

He held the pose so long that her eyes widened with fear. “Frank, you’re not sore at me. We talked about it months ago and you agreed I could go off the pill. You said you wanted a son. Don’t be angry with——”

“Crazy little woman. You crazy woman.” He put one knee on the bed and pulled her up and engulfed her, laughing in his throat.

“Damn you, Frank.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He searched her face. “He didn’t say anything about complications or anything?”

“Not a word.”

“Well a man my age——”

“Men twice your age become fathers.”

“A kid—did he say it’s a boy?”

“It’s too early.”

“I thought they had ways.”

“We’ll have to wait a little while longer. The baby’s not due till May.”

“Son of a bitch.” He bounded off the bed, looking for his slippers. “Celebrate,” he said; then he stopped. “Can you drink? I mean——”

“I want a great big Scotch on the rocks.”

“You got it.” He went.

They didn’t switch on lights in the living room; a soft glow came in from the buildings across the avenue. She watched Frank settle down with his feet on the coffee table. He reached for his drink. “To your very good health, little A

She lifted her glass. “Frank Junior.”

“Yeah.” He was delighted. “Frank Junior.”

“And confusion to our enemies.” She drank ceremoniously. She coughed on the Scotch and put the glass down. “I was telling you about the follow-up column in the Times. There was a squib about some of those radicals the FBI arrested a few years ago, the ones who broke into some FBI office and stole their files and put them on a bonfire?”

“I read about that in the slammer.”

“C.K. blackmailed that secretary to get the files on Merle and the other three men. You wanted those four because they were the witnesses against you.”

She saw it when he made the co

“Eleven, twelve hundred names and addresses in those files,” she said. “We make a joke out of the whole Justice Department. We make chaos all over the country. We show them who’s ru

Frank took his feet off the table. “And for a little bonus, yeah, we collect the new files on those four gentlemen.” He got to his feet and spread his arms wide. “A

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

New York City: 10–16 October

1

HE CALLED BRADLEIGH FROM A PHONE BOOTH IN GRAND Central Station. “How’s it going, Gle

Bradleigh was cool. “Where are you?”

“What difference does that make?”

“You’re supposed to be acting like a good boy. Staying out of trouble.”

“I’m not in any trouble. I’m calling because I’m curious, that’s all. Any developments?”

“Curious. Are you. Well our friend Gillespie walked in.”

“Walked in?”

“Just like that. Came in here with a fairly wild story …” Bradleigh went on talking.

A girl outside the phone booth was staring at him. He realized he was gri

“Do you?”

“You’re a bit chilly for a man who’s just scored a triumph.”

“I’ll tell you something, Fred. One of our bugs had been tampered with. In Gillespie’s office.”

“Oh?”

“We lost the transmission on his conversation with that computer blackmailer I mentioned.”