when the door opened and a tall broad-shouldered man, who looked like a movie cowboy, but wore a dark gray business suit, came out and closed the door again after him. Mal heard the lock click shut.
The man said, “Can I help you?” There was a trace of roughness left in a voice that tried to be soft.
Mal said, “I’m Mal Resnick. I have an appointment with Mr. Carter.”
“Resnick,” said the man. “Yes, I remember. Turn around, please.”
Mal turned around, and the man came over to pat him briefly, frisking him. His wallet was slipped out of his pocket, his driver’s license read, and the wallet put back. “All right,” said the man. “Come with me.”
Mal turned around again, glad he’d resisted the impulse to wear a gun — with Parker somewhere in New York, maybe he’d need one, maybe they’d just bump into each other on the street or something — and waited while the man unlocked the door and led the way through.
They crossed a gray office with functional gray furnishings, and through another door to a kind of living room — bar.
“Wait here. Please do not drink,” the man said, unsmiling.
Mal waited, and after a couple of minutes the man came back, holding the inner door open and saying, “Mr. Carter will see you now.”
“Thank you.”
Mal went into Mr. Carter’s office. The man closed the door again and went over to sit impassive in a corner to the right. Mr. Carter said, “Come on in, Resnick. Sit down.”
Mr. Carter was an impressive man. His resemblance to Louis Calhern was startling. Sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, he brought to mind visions of Wall Street and high finance, rails and steel and banking. Law books and economic treatises filled the glass-doored bookshelves. Photographs, unsigned, of presidents were spotted around the walls.
He motioned now to a brown leather chair in front of his desk, and Mal settled into it promptly, trying to sit tall and alert. “Phil tells me you have a personal problem you want us to help you with. Is that right?”
Mal swallowed. It wasn’t a good beginning. “Well, it’s a personnel problem, but I thought it might hurt the Outfit if this guy was to keep nosing around.”
Mr. Carter made a tent of his fingers. “That’s a possibility,” he said. “Now there are three possible ways to handle this situa-lion.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “First, we could give you the assistance you ask for. Second, we could ignore the problem and let you handle it yourself, as best you may. Third, if it seemed that there actually was a danger to the smooth operation of our organization, we could have you replaced.”
Mal blinked, and looked instinctively over his shoulder at the other man, but he was still just sitting there, impassive.
“Each of these alternatives,” Mr. Carter went on quietly, “has its advantages. We have an investment in you, Resnick, of time and money and training. After one mistake in Chicago, you’ve done very well in the organization. If we choose our first alternative, and give you our assistance, we’ll be protecting our investment in you, which is always good business policy.”
“I’d appreciate it, Mr. Carter,” Mal said hurriedly. “I’d do good work, you’d never regret it.”
“If we choose our second alternative,” Mr. Carter said, ignoring him, “that of ignoring the problem and leaving it to your own devices, there is another advantage to consider. A man in our organization, Resnick, has to be tough and self-reliant. Were you to handle this problem completely on your own, you would leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that you were the kind of man we want, the kind of man who could go places in our organization.”
Mal nodded briskly. “I want to handle it myself, Mr. Carter,” he said. “All I want is some help finding this guy. Once he’s spotted, I can take care of it myself.”
“However,” said Mr. Carter, “there is always that business in Chicago. You made good on that, you paid us back for your blunder. But still the blunder did happen. And it leaves a question in our minds. Perhaps you don’t have the mettle we require. You’re a good administrator in your area, but being a good administrator is not enough. Perhaps the blunder in Chicago — and the fact that you have allowed an area of your personal life to become a possible danger to the organization — are indications that you are not our kind of man. In that case, our most profitable move would be to have you eliminated as a factor in the organization. That would automatically remove the external danger you have brought to us.”
Mal sat silent, every nerve tense. His lips trembled, but no arguments came to his mind.
Mr. Carter studied the tent of his fingers. His lips pursed and relaxed, pursed and relaxed. Finally, he raised his eyes and said, “Before making my decision, perhaps I’d better know more about your problem. According to Phil, there is a man unconnected with the organization who has a grudge against you, and who has come to New York looking for you, apparently to kill you. You also say that he is alone, and that he is a professional robber. Is that right?”
Mal nodded. “That’s right. He does payroll jobs, banks, things like that.”
“What is his name?”
“Parker.”
Mr. Carter frowned. “Doesn’t he have a first name?”
“I don’t know it, Mr. Carter. He never called himself anything but Parker. His wife must of known it, but she never told me. I never thought to ask.”
“And does this wife of Parker’s have something to do with the grudge?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In other words, you are being hunted by a cuckolded husband, is that it?”
Mal considered, thinking fast. If he said yes, there wouldn’t be any embarrassing questions about that hijacking job. But would the Outfit think it important enough to help a guy having trouble with some broad’s husband? Probably not. Mal took a deep breath. “There’s more to it than that, Mr. Carter,” he said.
