“Certainly, Mr Willis. I’ll be more than happy to.”
There was a little more talk, and then Parker left. He went up to his room and lay down on the bed to wait. He had forgotten about his hunger.
4
PARKER heard them come in, father and daughter. Two bellboys came in with them, carrying the luggage, and Harrow and his daughter didn’t say anything to one another till the bellboys left.
Freedman had given him half an hour’s warning. Over the years Parker had cultivated two or three hotel employees, in case he ever needed them, and one of them had let him into the suite. He was now in the small dining-room to the right of the sitting-room; it was the least likely room for either Harrow or Bett to come into. If they did he could duck into the kitchen.
The connecting door was open, and he stood behind it, listening. Bett filled her father in on Menlo, explaining that Parker was dead and Menlo had the statue but was not likely to be too demanding about price. Menlo was in the country illegally, and apparently merely wanted Harrow to help him establish a safe background for himself and also to arrange for a safe place for a large amount of cash he had with him.
“How can Ihelp him establish a background? I don’t know anything about that sort of thing,” Harrow said.
“What difference does that make?” she said. “Promise him anything. Once you’ve got the statue, what do you care? What can he do to you?”
“That’s too dangerous, Elizabeth.”
“I don’t see why. You promise to help him, he gives you the statue, and you tell him it might take a few days and then call the FBI. You give them the anonymous tip that there’s an undesireable alien staying here without papers. They take him away and that’s the end of it. Menlo can’t ever prove you were the one who turned him in, and he can’t ever make any trouble for you. He doesn’t have anything on you.”
“I don’t know
“
But Bett kept talking, persuading him, and finally he came around. She gave him the name Menlo was using John Auguste and his room number. Harrow put in a call and waited a minute, then hung up. “He left word at the desk that he’d be out on the beach. They’ll page him.”
“I’d better get out of here then.”
“I’ll call you after it’s over.”
“You want me to call the FBI, don’t you?”
His voice was weak. “If you would.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy. Bett will take care of everything.”
In a few minutes the phone in the next room rang, and Harrow spoke briefly to Menlo, who said he’d be up in an hour. Parker settled down to wait.
Menlo finally arrived, and sat down to discuss terms with Harrow. It was just as Bett had said, plus some nonsense about a dentist. Harrow agreed to everything, and it should have been over then, but all at once Harrow started asking questions about Menlo’s past and Menlo had to tell him his whole life story before they were finished.
Parker, waiting in the dining-room, smothered his irritation, cursing Harrow for a fool. He came close to bursting in and settling it right there, but there were two other things that had to be settled first. He had to talk to Harrow, and he had to be sure where the money was. The money and the mourner would be in the same place. When Harrow put Menlo on the send for the mourner, Parker would find out where he went from the elevator operator, and that’s where he would later find the money. So he held back, controlling his impatience.
Menlo finally did leave, and the moment he was gone Parker walked into the living-room.
Harrow turned, saw him, and dropped his drink. “My God!”
“Keep it low,” Parker said.
“He he said you were dead.” Harrow pointed foolishly at the door. “He said you were dead.”
“He thought I was. He still thinks so. Sit down, Harrow. Take a minute, get used to the idea.”
“My God,” Harrow said again. He went over and sat down on the white leather sofa. He pressed his left hand to his chest. “You shouldn’t do that. My heart isn’t all that strong.”
“You want a drink?” Parker asked.
“Scotch, I think. Yes, plain Scotch.”
“On the rocks?”
“Yes. It doesn’t matter.”
Parker made the drink, and one for himself, and came back to the sofa. He handed one glass to Harrow, and Harrow swallowed half the Scotch in one gulp. Then he breathed deeply for a few seconds, and after that he settled down. He settled down so much he looked up at Parker and said, “You’re alive, but you don’t have the mourner. He has it.”
“You really want to go through all that garbage with the FBI? What makes you think Menlo couldn’t wriggle out of it? He’s a big man back home; that wasn’t crap he was feeding you. He tells his boss he got the money but couldn’t get Kapor because his plans got fouled up, that he was in Miami holing up until he could get back to Washington to try again. They’ll swallow it, they’ve got no reason not to trust him. So then he’s free, and there’s a whole espionage apparatus he can turn around and aim at you. You call the FBI on him, and he’ll make you dead. Menlo’s no boy to play with.”
Harrow pursed his lips, and chewed his cheeks, and stared into what was left of his drink. “You could be right.”
