Yours very truly,
Anthony V. Falmouth
The affidavit was attached by paper clip to the letter. O’Hara turned it over, checked out the envelope.
‘How was it delivered? There’s no stamp on it.’
‘One of my correspondents was in Jamaica. It was in his box when he came in from dinner one evening.’
O’Hara reread the letter and the affidavit, then put them on the table in front of Howe. He finished his coffee.
‘Well?’ said Howe.
‘Well what?’
‘Well, what do you think?’
‘I’ll tell you what I don’t think. I don’t think I’m going to assume responsibility for your two hundred and fifty thou, or anybody else’s.’
‘We can get to that. What about the letter?’
O’Hara shrugged. ‘A toss-up. Falmouth’s either on to something or he’s trying a fast sting and he figures he can suck me into it with him or floss me. Either way, I don’t like it.’
Having finished his breakfast, Howe carefully put down his knife and fork and pushed his plate a few inches away with a finger. He leaned toward O’Hara and said, almost in a whisper, ‘What do you think it could be?’
‘Hooked ya, hunh?’
‘Enough to bring you in.,
‘And you put it to Dobbs, eh?’
‘Just as Falmouth suggested. We had lunch in my jet, flyin’ around over Washington. Dobbs fell apart very quickly. About the time the salad was served.’
‘Well, I owe one to Tony for that. And to you.’
‘I wouldn’t forget the young lady.’
‘Gunn? Yeah, she looked pretty good in there.’
‘I have a feeling about this, Lieutenant. My instincts’re buzzing. Have been ever since I got the damn letter.’
‘You must be on every mail-order list in the world.’ ‘Really, sir. You do me an injustice. Give me credit for something. I’ve been in the news business since I was twelve, setting type for my grandfather’s weekly up in Maine.’
‘I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that I know the territory.’
‘It’s an adventure, by God. If I were twenty years younger and had two good legs under me, I’d be off with you.’
‘I told you, I won’t be responsible for your money, or anybody else’s, for that matter. Besides, it’s not an adventure, it’s madness. The whole damn Game is mad and the Players are all a bunch of fucking lunatics.’
‘Makes for a great story,’ Howe cried exuberantly.
‘You may be as nutty as they are,’ O’Hara said.
‘It’s my money, Lieutenant. So it’s my problem, right? Thus far, Falmouth has been on target. You said so yourself— if you could trust anyone, it would be him.’
‘One helluva big “if.”
‘What the hell, it’s a write-off, anyway. And I’ll meet your price. Name it.’
‘I told you I don’t want in.’
‘A thousand a week, with a guarantee of one year.’
‘I said no.’
· O’Hara got up and walked to one of the portholes and stared out at the ocean. The sky was darkening and thunderheads were rumbling down from Provincetown. He felt thunderheads roiling inside him, too.
They’re gonna get me into this, he thought, and the very idea made him angry and it was difficult to explain his feeling to Howe, this overwhelming sense of anger that was growing inside him. He knew the scenario before it was recited, knew the characters, the locations, could even recite a lot of the dialogue. It was not just the pervading sense of dishonour; not the excesses of a Game in which people kill, maim and steal with impunity, a blood sport in which the score was kept in head counts, not numbers. No, O’Hara’s anger sprang from acceptance. He was angry because he was accepted by the Players in this community of hyenas. He was part of it, like it or not. His escape had failed and subconsciously he was angry at Howe for reminding him of the fact. So when he blew up, it came so suddenly and without warning that Howe was stunned by the outburst.
‘I said no, goddammit. NO!’ O’Hara slammed his fist on the solid oak table with such fury that the ice in the glasses rattled.
‘Lieutenant, you’re a journalist. ‘Whatever you fear ain’t gonna be solved by raising dogs in Japan. Or, for that matter, by turning down a chance any self-respecting reporter would commit murder to get.’ Howe took a sip of his vodka-laced tea and said, grinning, ‘Fifteen hundred_ Plus expenses. That’s seventy-eight thousand for the year. And a hundred-thousand- dollar bonus when you turn in the story.’
‘You sure make fast judgments there, Mr Howe. And here we just met.’
