“Bourbon.”
I called room service and ordered bourbon and ice. Shepard walked across the room and stared out the window at the golf course. He sat down in the armchair by the window and got right up again. “Spenser,” he said. “I’m scared shit.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said.
“I never thought… I always thought I could handle business, you know? I mean I’m a businessman and a businessman is supposed to be able to handle business. I’m supposed to know how to put a deal together and how to make it work. I’m supposed to be able to manage people. But this. I’m no goddamned candy-ass. I been around and all, but these people…”
“I know about these people.”
“I mean that goddamned nigger…”
“His name’s Hawk,” I said. “Call him Hawk.”
“What are you, the NAACP?”
“Call him Hawk.”
“Yeah, okay, Hawk. My youngest came in the room while they were talking to me and Hawk grabbed him by the shirt and put him out the door. Right in front of me. The black bastard.”
“Who are they?”
“They?”
“You said your kid came in while they were talking to you.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shepard walked back to the window and looked out again. “Hawk and a guy named Powers. White guy. I guess Hawk works for him.”
“Yeah, I know Powers.”
The room service waiter came with the booze on a tray. I signed the check and tipped him a buck. Shepard rummaged in his pocket. “Hey, let me get that,” he said.
“I’ll put it on your bill,” I said. “What did Powers want? No, better, I’ll tell you what he wanted. You owe him money and you can’t pay him and he’s going to let you off the hook a little if you let him into your business a lot.”
“Yeah.” Shepard poured a big shot over ice from the bottle of bourbon and slurped at it. “How the hell did you know?”
“Like I said, I know Powers. It’s also not a very new idea. Powers and a lot of guys like him have done it before. A guy like you mismanages the money, or sees a chance for a big break or overextends himself at the wrong time and can’t get financing. Powers comes along, gives you the break, charges an exorbitant weekly interest. You can’t pay, he sends Hawk around to convince you it’s serious. You still can’t pay so Powers comes around and says you can give me part of the business or you can cha-cha once more with Hawk. You’re lucky, you got me to run to. Most guys got no one but the cops.”
“I didn’t mismanage the money.”
“Yeah, course not. Why not go to the cops?”
“No cops,” Shepard said. He drank some more bourbon.
“Why not?”
“They’ll start wanting to know why I needed money from Powers.”
“And you were cutting a few corners?”
“Goddamnit, I had to. Everybody cuts a few corners.”
“Tell me about the ones you cut.”
“Why? What do you need to know that for?”
“I won’t know till you tell me.”
Shepard drank some more bourbon. “I was in a box. I had to do something.” The drape on the right side of the window hung crookedly. Shepard straightened it. I waited. “I was in business with an outfit called Estate Management Corporation. They go around to different vacation-type areas and develop leisure homes in conjunction with a local guy. Around here I was the local guy. What we did was set up a separate company with me as president. I did the developing, dealt with the town planning board, building inspector, that stuff, and supervised the actual construction. They provided architects, planners and financing and the sales force. It’s a little more complicated than that, but you get the idea. My company was a wholly owned subsidiary of Estate Management. You follow that okay?”
“Yeah. I got that. I’m not a shrewd-o-business tycoon like you, but if you talk slowly and I can watch your lips move, I can keep up, I think. What was the name of your company?”
“We called the development Promised Land. And the company was Promised Land, Inc.”
“Promised Land.” I whistled. “Cu-ute,” I said. “Were you aiming at an exclusive Jewish clientele?”
“Huh? Jewish? Why Jewish? Anybody was welcome. I mean we wouldn’t be thrilled if the Shvartzes moved in maybe, but we didn’t care about religion.”
I wished I hadn’t said it. “Okay,” I said. “So you’re president of Promised Land, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Estate Management, Inc. Then what?”
“Estate Management went under.”
