Now and Then

“Everybody but one,” I said. “I implied to the PI that I wouldn’t give him to you.”

“Professional courtesy?” Epstein said.

“Actually I threatened him with you if he wouldn’t talk to me.”

Epstein nodded.

“Do I need him?” Epstein said.

“I don’t think you will,” I said. “He’s solid enough. But if you do need him to make your case, I’ll give him to you.”

Epstein nodded.

“Your word’s good,” he said.

“Mostly,” I said.

Epstein smiled slightly.

“I think you should put a tail on Alderson,” I said. “Open or not, that’s up to you. But this thing is going to blossom pretty soon, I think, and we wouldn’t want Alderson to disappear again.”

Epstein nodded.

“You got plans you’re not sharing with me?” he said.

“I do,” I said.

Epstein thought about that for a moment and then shrugged.

“So far so good,” he said.

64.

On tuesday morning at 9:50 Alderson came strolling into Susan’s office and found me there, with my arms crossed, leaning my hips against the front of Susan’s desk.

“What are you doing?” he said.

I didn’t say anything.

“Where’s Susan? Dr. Silverman.”

I didn’t answer.

“I have an appointment,” he said.

I said nothing.

“All right. I don’t know what game you are playing but I haven’t the time nor the patience.”

He started to turn.

“Wait a minute,” I said and stood up.

He turned back toward me and I hit him with a left hook. It was the left hook I’d been working on with Hawk for years. The left hook that if I’d had it as a kid Joe Walcott would never have beaten me. The left hook I’d been saving for a special occasion. It was a lollapalooza. I felt all of me go into the hook. I felt it up my arm and into my chest and shoulder and back. I felt it in my soul. It was almost like ejaculation.

Alderson staggered back against the wall to the right of the door and sank to a sitting position. He wasn’t out, but bells were ringing. His eyes were unfocused. He felt sort of feebly around on the floor as if he were trying to locate where he was. I went back to the desk and leaned my hips on it again and folded my arms, and waited. Slowly his eyes refocused. He stared at me. And in his stare I saw for the first time the furtive reptilian glitter of his soul.

“You used to be Bradley Turner,” I said. “You killed your wife and a charter boat captain named Perry Alderson and stole his identity. You are employed by an outfit called FFL to acquire information.”

The reptilian gaze didn’t waver.

“So the price of silence has now gone up,” I said. He didn’t say anything.

“I want one million dollars by tomorrow, in cash, or all of this goes to the FBI.”

He kept looking at me as he slowly got his feet under him and slid upright against the wall.

“We had a standoff,” I said. “What I had would cause suspicion but you could have survived it. Now you can’t. If the Feds don’t bust you fi rst, the FFL will kill you to cover its tracks.”

“Is Dr. Silverman aware of this?” he said.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“I’d like to know if she was merely a part of your plot against me,” he said.

“I don’t care what you’d like,” I said. “You need to deliver the money by tomorrow. You want to set a time and place, I’ll be here.”

I thought for a moment that he might bite me. But he didn’t. He gathered himself and straightened his shoulders and after a moment of venomous staring, he turned and left the office. In the hall, Hawk opened the door for him, and closed it after him. I walked to the spare room and watched as Alderson walked up Linnaean Street toward Garden.