pedestrian gate, he saw a car’s headlights appear around the bend of the main road a quarter-mile away, but he paid it no attention; none of the others seemed to mind. The driver got back into the car, holding his briefcase, and sat smoking, the button tip of his cigarette alternately glowing and dimming. Villiers turned and joined up with the others. Civetta led them a hundred feet or so into the woods, and, to his surprise, Villiers discovered they were at the edge of a clearing. Three or four picnic tables were
scattered around; there was a perforated trash drum and a number of signs posted-“ NO FIRES,” “ NO COOKING,” “ NO ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ON PARK PREMISES.”
“It’s the backside of a county park,” Civetta explained. “Nobody comes here at night-they lock the front gates, and I guess the teen-age lovers haven’t discovered the back way in. It makes a useful place to talk. This is my legal associate, Mr. Norman Fields.”
Fields offered a hand, and Villiers, not without distaste, shook it briefly. Civetta sat down on one of the picnic benches and said, “Sit down and make yourself comfortable and let’s talk.”
“I don’t like the setup,” Villiers said. “You’ve got a witness, I haven’t.”
“Do we need witnesses, Mr. Villiers? My, my. I only brought Mr. Fields along for legal advice.”
Villiers took out his wallet and extracted a bill. He stepped forward and held it up to Norman Fields. The little man frowned. “What’s that for?”
“One dollar. You take it, and you agree that in the matter we’re about to discuss, you’re acting as my legal counsel as well as Mr. Civetta’s. That makes it a privileged communication. If anybody subpoenas you, you don’t have to answer questions.”
The lawyer looked over his shoulder at Civetta, who nodded impatiently. “Sure-sure. It’s all right, Norm, take the damn dollar and let’s get down to it.”
Fields stuffed the dollar in his pocket and sat down. Villiers kept his feet. He didn’t like the clandestine setting, and he didn’t like the fact that they had forced him to leave his briefcase behind. It contained the jammer, and the jammer wouldn’t do a bit of good as long as it was enclosed in four thousand pounds of Detroit steel; the car would absorb its signals completely.
But it was no time to call the meeting off. He would take his chances; he had to.
He said, “All right. I want to make you a business proposition.”
“Senna said that much. You worked pretty damn fast, getting him out of the Montreal brig on bail so he could set up this meeting. You must be in a hurry, Mr. Villiers.” Civetta said it in a way that made it abundantly clear he was prepared to extract every possible advantage from Villiers’ need for haste.
“I won’t beat around the bush,” Villiers said. “I’m taking over Northeast Consolidated Industries.”
“You wouldn’t kid me,” Civetta said with a straight face. “Do you mean to tell me Heggins Aircraft is just a front for Mason Villiers?”
“You knew that already-everybody knows it.”
“What everybody knows and what somebody can prove are two different things. You’ve just admitted it out loud, which means you’re giving something away to me, and when a man puts that kind of advantage in my hands, Mr. Villiers, I kind of figure he wants something in exchange. Or am I gettin’ too cynical in my old age?”
“Let’s not play games, Civetta. I’ve got a proposition to make. Something I want in exchange for something you want.”
“I know that, Mr. Villiers. You want money to finance your proxy fight. A lot of money. That’s what you want. Now, what do I want that you could possibly give me in return?”
“Interest on a loan, to begin with.”
“Peanuts, Mr. Villiers,” Civetta murmured in his low gravel growl; but his face was attentive. “Let’s talk facts and figures. How much?”
“Four hundred million.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Norman Fields ejaculated. Civetta’s eyes shifted toward him, but Civetta’s big head did not move.
All Civetta said was, “That’s a lot of money.”
“I’ve done business with the Chicago organization before. They know I don’t welsh on my debts. And I know how it’s done. I go to your bank, and if I want a one-thousand-dollar loan, I sign a two-thousand-dollar note. The note is legitimate, its terms are the usual bank terms and rates-but the only profit your bank shows on its books is the legal interest. The extra one thousand goes into your pockets. I’m willing to do business on that basis. Only, of course, when we’re talking about four hundred million, I’m not willing to pay you back double. What I’m offering is standard legal interest plus a twenty-five-percent profit. You lend me four hundred million, and I pay you back five hundred million. Plus legal interest on the four hundred million.”
Civetta didn’t give him a direct answer. He looked at Fields, and Fields said nothing. He said after a moment, “You don’t like me, Mr. Villiers.”
“Should I?”
“A lot of people seem to think it’s good politics to like me.”
“Civetta, I don’t like you, and I don’t dislike you. This is business, not personalities. I’m not asking to join your social club.”
“Point is,” Civetta said, “I don’t owe you a thing, Mr. Villiers, and you don’t even pretend you’re my friend. So why should I do you a favor? Why should I cut my vigorish rate down to one-quarter of the usual? You can have your four hundred million-all you got to do is, you pay me back eight hundred million. You see, I figure you can succeed if you get backing from me, and if you succeed, I know damn well you can afford to pay me eight hundred million. I’m a businessman too, Mr. Villiers. I know when I’m in a seller’s market, see?”
“I see, yes. It’s a matter of indifference to you, and you feel insulted that I should ask you into the deal when I don’t particularly like you, but it gets less insulting if I raise the ante from twenty-five percent to a hundred percent.”
“You’re real astute, Mr. Villiers. Now, you can tell me something else. Suppose I give you the four hundred million. What do you do with it?”
“I buy NCI.”
“Four hundred million don’t buy control of NCI, Mr. Villiers. It ain’t enough. I know my figures, see?”
“My tender offer of Heggins debentures buys the rest.”
“And what if it doesn’t? You come back to me for more money, right? I’m not a bottomless pit, Mr. Villiers. My assets are just as limited as the next guy’s.”
“You take my word for it or you don’t, Civetta. Would I ask for four hundred million if I wanted six or eight? What good would it do me to ask for less than it takes to do the job? The whole thing falls apart if I don’t end up with fifty-one percent of NCI. I think I can do it with three hundred million. But this thing’s too big to shave too close.”
Head down, Norman Fields pressed his hands together until Villiers heard the knuckles crack. Fields looked up and broke in, “Listen, I don’t like the whole-”
“Shut up, Norm. You’re out of order.” Civetta kept his eyes on Villiers. “Mr. Villiers, I’m in business because I learned a long time ago to find out what people need, and give it to them. Maybe sometimes the law don’t approve, but I supply the people’s needs, and I make a profit. Now, you come to me with a proposition, it means you got to make an offer that supplies my needs too. You get me? So far, you ain’t offered me nothing.”
“I’m offering you a chance to buy into one of the biggest legitimate corporations in the world. I think that entitles me to a break in your interest rates. You people have been bleeding for years to get a foothold in the top corporations. I’m offering it to you. Throw in with me, and I’ll repay the loan in NCI stock certificates. You’ll get your own people on the NCI board of directors. You can sit on the board yourself-you’ll have that right.”
Fields, staring at him, uttered an exultant noise of discovery and realization. Civetta shut him up with a wave of his hand. His hard eyes penetrated Villiers.
Finally Civetta said, “What you’re doing ain’t legal. We both know that. You’re operating on all kinds of inside information that’s never been released to the public. The federal boys could hang your ass if they could prove this on you.”
“Granted. They could hang your ass too if they knew everything about your operations. What of it?”
“What of it is just this, Mr. Villiers. Suppose the federal boys walk into your office one morning and haul you down to the Tombs. Okay, they futz around a while, and maybe they end up letting you go because you got a good lawyer. But in the meantime, your NCI pipe dream goes down the tubes, and I’m left holding an empty bag where I
