Afterburn

'I know, I just figured that out,' she said. 'I've got another guy who buys spot loads.'

'What's that mean?'

'This guy's got all kinds of stuff moving around. He buys distressed situations from speculators, dock overage, canceled orders, things like that. His office is here and the docks are in Newark. He takes the money by wire, then endorses the bill of lading. You want me to call?'

'I will.' He took the number.

'Bob here,' said a voice, phones trilling in the background.

Charlie asked about wholesale cigarettes.

'I don't have any cigarettes right now,' Bob barked. 'Who're you?'

Charlie wondered if his foot was quivering. 'What else?'

'I got… I got old gasoline that might have oil in it, I got lumber and some fucking frozen fish-you don't want that-I got caviar, I got… Japanese car tires, Nikon cameras, I got all kinds of stuff.'

'How's it work?' Charlie breathed, trying to concentrate.

'You got a binding letter of credit, right?'

'Yes. I mean I can get one.'

'Have the bank deliver that here,' answered Bob. 'Hard copy only. We run it through our infrared scanner to check for inking alterations. Make sure all the particulars are on it-the account number, the officer at the bank and his number. Without that, you don't even get a kiss from your mother. We only deal with banks that are members of the New York clearinghouse-Chase Manhattan, Citibank, Credit Suisse, the big ones. We want same-day electronic settlement, to our account. I don't negotiate on that point, ever. Then we call to be sure the money is in your account. Assuming it is, then you just tell me what you want. We can write over the bill of lading to you here, which we advise against, or we'll take you down to the pier and, on a very quiet basis, you understand, for an extra fee, you can pay the dock cooper to open up the container to be sure it's got what you want. He removes the lead seal and-'

'What do you have right now,' asked Charlie desperately, 'ready to go?'

'How much you spending?'

'Five million.'

'That's a lot. Maybe you want caviar? Now, with that,' he continued impatiently, 'you get very good mark-up and you can break up the load as much as you want. Freshness is a factor. We have a shipment that the buyer couldn't-'

'Hang on.'

'I don't hang on for anybody,' said Bob. 'Call me back.'

'How about caviar?' Charlie asked Tony.

'Caviar? You eat it.'

He dropped his head. 'What the fuck are you doing?' he cried fearfully to Morris. 'I can feel that.'

'In an open laminectomy, the surgeon usually has available to him automated suction and laser ablation,' Morris narrated. 'But I've been careful about the bleeding.'

'I can't believe this,' Charlie moaned. He felt a wetness, fingers pushing numbly against a piece of bone. Then a filing sensation. His phone rang. It was Christina. 'The guy has caviar,' he exhaled.

'That's good.'

'Tony doesn't think-oh! Oh, please! Oh, God!' he screamed, his back suddenly a valley of pain.

'Wait, wait! The needle!' said Morris. He adjusted it. 'Is that better?'

'No, no! Oh, God, what are-!'

'Charlie, Charlie?' came the phone.

' That? ' asked Morris. 'That has to be better.'

It was. The pain softened, became a cloud, blew away. He collapsed on the table in exhaustion, his mouth dry.

'Needle slipped,' Morris noted. 'Lucky it didn't break.'

'Tell him that he can sell five million of caviar for seven or eight or more,' came Christina's voice. 'No, wait, let me talk to Tony.'

He handed over the phone. 'You could sell it for more, she says.'

'What?'

'She says you could sell it for more.'

Tony took the phone. 'Yeah? I said cash. What do I want with that? Fuck you. Christina, we're going to chop up your boyfriend… No, no, explain it to me… You get a piece of paper? No, no… what? It says that I'm going to pick it up?… Wait.' He looked up. 'How much does caviar cost these days?'

'Couple hundred bucks an ounce usually,' said Morris.

'You can get it cheaper,' observed Tommy.

'Not in a restaurant.'

'Even the cheap stuff is expensive,' Morris told Tony. 'Most people don't know the difference.'

'Yeah… Why do I want that?' Tony was saying. 'It's not like the airport, exactly… You have to have an examiner to know if it's any good… I'll take something I can dump in Chinatown, something I can sell to anybody…'

'Cameras?' cried Charlie. 'The guy has Japanese cameras.'

'Cameras I'll take,' Tony said into the phone. 'I need it by eleven. What? That's what I said-we'll do that. A load of new cameras

… We can break it up… Five million is less than wholesale, probably. You call here at ten forty-five and we'll send a-What?… Your mother will be-no. No. Soon as you give me that piece of paper, you little bitch, then we square everything.' He grunted and pulled a piece of licorice out of his pocket. 'She's smart, that one, smartest I ever saw. I'm making a profit off this.' He handed the phone to Charlie. 'She's going to get that bill of lading for a container of new Nikon cameras and bring that here. She's a smart girl, Charles.'

'Listen to me,' Christina said to Charlie now. 'Did you write down the number of the spot-buyer guy?'

'Yes.'

'Scribble it out.'

He looked at his piece of paper. 'Why?'

'Just do it.'

'Okay.' He did.

'Do you remember the name?' she asked.

'Bob somebody.'

'He can't send a guy to get me this way,' she said.

'Oh,' replied Charlie, not necessarily following her logic. 'What do I do now?'

'Tell me your banker's name.'

'Ted Fullman. Citibank.'

'Call him,' Christina said, 'and say I'll call with the particulars, which I will. It's a three-party transaction. I get this now. They show me the bill of lading, which has the description of the load and the number of the container. All containers have numbers. The bill of lading is a transferable document of ownership. It has to be transferable, because the container goes from seller to shipper to maybe another buyer, another shipper, and so on. It's probably been transferred a couple of times already at this point. Sometimes it's altered, but this guy is reputable. I'm not saying the cameras aren't stolen, just that the cameras are in the container. The money gets wired from the bank to the spot-market agent, the agent gives me the bill of lading, and I give the bill of lading to Tony. He's free to pick up the cameras at that point.'

'I think I got that.'

'So call your banker, Charlie. Say my name is Sally.'

'Okay.' He was too tired to understand all of it. When she hung up, he called Ted back. 'You get the cash from my broker?'

'Yes,' said Ted. 'Now what?'

'My representative, whose name is Sally, will call you and tell you where to send the letter of credit. I'm sorry about all this confusion, Ted.'

'What's the deal, Charlie?'