“Thank you.” Gus managed not to let out his breath in a long sigh of relief. “Would you like coffee?”
“Sure.”
Gus turned away, grateful to be able to hide his face, and pressed the bell for a waiter.
Josef Vyalov and Lev Peshkov walked in. Gus did not shake hands. “Sit down,” he said curtly.
Vyalov’s eyes went to the newspapers on the side table, and a look of anger crossed his face. Gus guessed that Lev was already in trouble over those headlines.
He tried not to stare at Lev. This was the chauffeur who had seduced Gus’s fiancee-but that must not be allowed to cloud Gus’s judgment. He would have liked to punch Lev in the face. However, if this meeting went according to plan the result would be more humiliating to Lev than a punch-and much more satisfying to Gus.
A waiter appeared, and Gus said: “Bring coffee for my guests, please, and a plate of ham sandwiches.” He deliberately did not ask them what they wanted. He had seen Woodrow Wilson act like this with people he wanted to intimidate.
He sat down and opened a folder. It contained a blank sheet of paper. He pretended to read it.
Lev sat down and said: “So, Gus, the president has sent you up here to negotiate with us.”
Now Gus allowed himself to look at Lev. He stared at him for a long moment without speaking. Handsome, yes, he thought, but also untrustworthy and weak. When Lev began to look embarrassed, Gus spoke at last. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Lev was so shocked that he actually pushed his chair back from the table as if fearing a blow. “What the hell…?”
Gus made his voice harsh. “America is at war,” he said. “The president is not going to negotiate with you.” He looked at Brian Hall. “Or you,” he said, even though he had made a deal with Hall only ten minutes ago. Finally he looked at Vyalov. “Not even with you,” he said.
Vyalov looked steadily back at him. Unlike his son-in-law, he was not intimidated. However, he had lost the look of amused contempt with which he began the meeting. After a long pause, he said: “So what are you here for?”
“I’m here to tell you what’s going to happen,” Gus said in the same voice. “And when I’m done, you’ll accept it.”
Lev said: “Huh!”
Vyalov said: “Shut up, Lev. Go on, Dewar.”
“You’re going to offer the men a raise of fifty cents a day,” Gus said. He turned to Hall. “And you’re going to accept his offer.”
Hall kept his face blank and said: “Is that so?”
“And I want your men back at work by noon today.”
Vyalov said: “And why the hell should we do what you tell us?”
“Because of the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“The president will send an army battalion to the foundry to take it over, secure it, release all finished products to customers, and continue to run it with army engineers. After the war, he might give it back.” He turned to Hall. “And your men can probably have their jobs back then, too.” Gus wished he had run this past Woodrow Wilson first, but it was too late now.
Lev said with amazement: “Does he have the right to do that?”
“Under wartime legislation, yes,” said Gus.
“So you say,” said Vyalov skeptically.
“Challenge us in court,” said Gus. “Do you think there’s a judge in this country who will side with you-and our country’s enemies?” He sat back and stared at them with an arrogance he did not feel. Would this work? Would they believe him? Or would they call his bluff, laugh at him, and walk out?
There was a long silence. Hall’s face was expressionless. Vyalov was thoughtful. Lev looked sick.
At last Vyalov turned to Hall. “Are you willing to settle for fifty cents?”
Hall just said: “Yes.”
Vyalov looked back at Gus. “Then we accept, too.”
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Gus closed his folder, trying to still the shaking of his hands. “I’ll tell the president.”
Saturday was sunny and warm. Lev told Olga he was needed at the foundry, then he drove to Marga’s place. She lived in a small room in Lovejoy. They embraced, but when Lev started to unbutton her blouse she said: “Let’s go to Humboldt Park.”
“I’d rather screw.”
“Later. Take me to the park, and I’ll show you something special when we come back. Something we haven’t done before.”
Lev’s throat went dry. “Why do I have to wait?”
“It’s such a beautiful day.”
“What if we’re seen?”
“There’ll be a million people there.”
“Even so… ”
“I suppose you’re afraid of your father-in-law?”
“Hell, no,” Lev said. “Listen, I’m the father of his grandchild. What’s he going to do, shoot me?”
“Let me change my dress.”
“I’ll wait in the car. If I watch you undress I might lose control.”
He had a new Cadillac three-passenger coupe, not the swankiest car in town but a good place to start. He sat at the wheel and lit a cigarette. He was afraid of Vyalov, of course. But all his life he had taken risks. He was not Grigori, after all. And things had worked out pretty well for him so far, he thought, sitting in his car, wearing a summer-weight blue suit, about to take a pretty girl to the park. Life was good.
Before he had finished his smoke, Marga came out of the building and got into the car beside him. She was wearing a daring sleeveless dress and had her hair coiled over her ears in the latest fashion.
He drove to Humboldt Park, on the East Side. They sat together on a slatted wooden park seat, enjoying the sunshine and watching the children playing in the pond. Lev could not stop touching Marga’s bare arms. He loved the envious looks he got from other men. She’s the prettiest girl in the park, he thought, and she’s with me. How about that?
“I’m sorry about your lip,” he said. Her lower lip was still swollen where Vyalov had punched her. It looked quite sexy.
“Not your fault,” Marga said. “Your father-in-law is a pig.”
“That’s the truth.”
“The Hot Spot offered me a job right away. I’ll start there as soon as I can sing again.”
“How does it feel?”
She tried a few bars.
I run my fingers through my hair
Play a little solitaire
Waiting for my millionaire
To come.
She touched her mouth gingerly. “Still hurts,” she said.
He leaned toward her. “Let me kiss it better.” She turned her face up to his and he kissed her gently, hardly touching.
She said: “You can be a little firmer than that.”
He grinned. “Okay, how about this?” He kissed her again, and this time he let the tip of his tongue caress the inside of her lips.
After a minute she said: “That’s okay, too,” and she giggled.
“In that case… ” This time he put his tongue all the way inside her mouth. She responded eagerly-she always
