'How many times do you live?'
'That's hard to say.'
'Excuse me?' 'Some people manage to lead two lives,' Thomas suggested.
'Yourself, for example. Take that as a compliment.' Grover nodded gratefully.
'Maybe some other people, too.'
'You're losing me' said Grover curtly, the wide grin gone.
'Really? It concerns you. Indirectly.'
'I'm surprised that there's still anything that could concern me he said, obvious annoyance beneath his flat tone of voice. He was licking his fingers, making soft smacking sounds, then with slight nervousness working on a thumbnail with his teeth.
'It's nothing for you to be worried about,' said Thomas.
'It affects a client of mine.'
'Oh' said Grover, shaking his head weakly and speaking louder, 'but I do worry. I worry about everything. You know, under normal circumstances I'd tell you absolutely nothing. I'd want you to prove who you are ' 'I could if you wish.'
Grover held up a hand.
'No need. You wear your identification.
I can see your father all through you.'
'I understood you were pretty good' said Thomas.
'Good?'
'As a forger.'
The rotund man's eyes twinkled.
'A man takes a certain pride in his work he allowed.
'No matter what that line of work is.'
'I understand you were very good ' A smile crossed Grover's face.
'Want to know the truth, Tom, if I can call you that? I was excellent.'
'Would unsurpassed' be the proper word?'
'Maybe,' he conceded. His deft fingers drummed on the wooden table in front of him. He paused and Thomas remained silent, sensing that Grover, out of pride or nostalgia or both, would say more.
'I'll tell you how good I was' he added, his eyes twinkling.
'I would forge a man's signature to a check, then take the check to the bank it was drawn on. I'd present it to the teller for payment, but I'd say to the teller,
'Please. Take a close look at the signature. I don't know the man who signed it. I want to be sure it's genuine.' 'And?'
'The teller would compare my forgery against the real thing.
Then I'd be informed that the check was fine. No problem.'
'And that always worked?'
'Never failed. Look, would I try to sell a product that wasn't perfect? I told you, I have my pride.'
'You also had your legal problems 'For that I had your father,' Grove recalled fondly.
'One way or another, when push came to shove, Bill Daniels would get me off.'
'Like before the war?'
Grover's eyes narrowed slightly and he was less given to elaboration.
'Correct' he said.
'And in 1954 'Correct again.'
'Can we talk about the war?'
'I fought in Europe.'
'What's 'trash collection' mean?'
'I have a cousin who's in refuse hauling. That's all it means to me.
'That's not what Adolph Zenger said 'Whatever Zenger said,' said Grover calmly,
'I wouldn't put too much faith in it. You must know yourself that he's an old liar,'
Grover's thick brow furrowed.
'Did he send you here?'
'What about Arthur Sandler?'
'What about him? He's dead' 'No he's not.'
Grover gave Thomas a look which seemed to convey genuine surprise. He was thoughtful for a moment.
'No,' he said.
'I saw the body myself I was his friend for a while, you know that, I'm sure. I viewed the body after he was shot. It was him' 'What would happen,' asked Thomas slowly, 'if I told you I thought you were lying?'
Grover's tone became more grave.
'You'd be halfway out of here,' he said.
'Look, Daniels. As you probably noticed, I'm a respectable member of this neighborhood. For the first time I've got things people can't take away from me. Nobody except my wife even knows who I was. I plan to keep it that way. I'm not burrowing into the dirt of twenty or thirty years ago. I paid my debt to-' 'How? You never spent a day of your life in jail' Grover's eyes were angry.
'Why don't you look in your old man's files.'
'They were torched.'
'Pity.' Grover glared at Daniels.
'All right, I'll tell you anyway. I agreed to be an informer. I'd inform on a man the Feds wanted. I'd get a pardon, they'd arrest their man. Trouble is, the man they wanted got shot first. I still got my pardon.'
'Sandler?'
'Yo.u're brilliant' He glanced at his watch.
'I have a store to open in fifteen minutes. Saturday's my big day.'
Then, unable to resist a parting shot, he added,
'Not all of us were lucky enough to have a wealthy lawyer for a father.
Some of us have to work ' He rose rudely from the table, pushing his chair back, and trying to end the visit.
Thomas spoke, without rising.
'How many governments did Sandler work for at once?' he asked doggedly.
'What?' He looked at Thomas as if the attorney had won an uncontested divorce from his sanity. the repeated.
'What about yourseIP' 'What about me?'
'Everything about you, right down to your current cloak of piety.
Sorry,' he said, starting to stand, 'but I'm innately suspicious of a man who disappeared in 1939 and surfaced immediately after the war. The real problem with you, what bothers me the most, is that you have no loyalties other than yourself. You sell to the highest bidder. I wonder how many people you sold to' ' Grover shook his head, calm and listening, and sensing no serious threat.
'Your old man never trusted anyone either.' He looked Thomas up and down. It wasn't a glare. Thomas had seen the look before. It was contempt, the contempt of the street-wise kid for the private-school boy, the dislike of someone who thought he'd had none of the breaks for someone else who seemed to have had them all. ll me something,' said Grover.
'You come busting in here bothering me, stirring up skeletons and asking me questions. Now you tell me something.' It was posed as a challenge.
'Who's this client of yours?'
'Arthur Sandler's daughter.'
Grover looked at Daniels as if to wonder whether or not Daniels was serious.
'Don't give me any crap,' Grover warned, 'or I'll rearrange your dental work' 'I'm serious.'
'Arthur Sandler didn't have a daughter. Or a son' 'What would you say if I told you she was in a car in front of your house?'
'I'd say you needed glasses 'Be my guest' said Daniels. He motioned with an open palm to the dining-room
