Parker shook his head. He was no good at small talk, because he had no interest in it.
Yancy kept trying. ‘You haven’t seen the night life around here? No? Well, you haven’t missed much. Houston’s just fifty miles away, of course. Have you been up there?’
Parker turned his back on him, went over to the bed, and picked up the attache case.
Yancy said, ‘Not that Houston’s so what are you doing?’
Parker carried the attache case over to the writing desk, set it down, opened the snaps.
Yancy came over, looking aggrieved, trying to see the funny side of life, saying, ‘You’re in a hell of a hurry, aren’t you?’
Parker said, ‘You want to go out and come in again? I’ll wait. Just don’t come in here and stand around.’
The hail-fellow expressions drained off Yancy’s face one by one, as though they’d been painted on in water colour and he was standing in the rain. What was left was hard and humourless. ‘I was told,’ he said, and all the pretty music was missing from his voice now, too, ‘I was told to co-operate with you, give you all the help I could, and treat you with kid gloves. I do what I’m told. That’s the smart way, do what you’re told. But don’t push me. Don’t push me so far I forget to be smart.’
Parker had opened the attache case. Now he shut it again. ‘The deal’s off. You tell Karns he sent the wrong boy around.’
‘Wait a second,’ Yancy said. ‘Wait a second.’
‘I got no time,’ Parker told him, ‘to sell you insurance, play buddies with you, smile, small talk, how’s the weather? I’m here on business.’
‘We all are,’ Yancy said, but he seemed less sure of himself.
‘I got to have full attention,’ Parker told him, ‘on what’s in front of me. I can’t be worried about you behind me, do you feel well, have you got your bottle, did somebody hurt your feelings?’
‘There’s a certain civilized procedure,’ Yancy said. He was flickering in and out of his two characterizations like a candle flame guttering in a wind. ‘There’s a certain civilized way to do things.’
‘Not here.’
They stood looking at each other. Parker didn’t necessarily want out of this deal; he didn’t know enough about it yet to tell if it was workable or not. But if he couldn’t get Yancy squared away he’d quit it now. There was no reason to add unnecessary complications.
As they stood there, a knock sounded at the door. Yancy started, then shook his head and said, ‘My bottle The boy’s fast.’ He seemed grateful for the interruption.
Parker waited. Yancy went over and opened the door and the boy came in carrying a brown paper bag and a plastic ice bucket. He set them on the table near the door, and Yancy, looking at his watch, said, ‘Four and a half minutes. The change is yours.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Parker said, ‘Boy.’
‘Sir?’
‘How long you work here?’
‘Almost three years, sir.’
‘Any guest here ever hurt your feelings?’
Yancy turned his head and looked at Parker. He and the boy both looked baffled. The boy said, ‘Sir?’
Parker said, ‘Somebody wants something, ice or a bottle or carry some luggage. They tell you what they want, they don’t say please, they’re in a hurry, they don’t pay you any mind. That hurt your feelings?’
The boy shook his head. ‘No, sir.’
‘Why not?’
The boy looked baffled again. He glanced at Yancy, then looked back at Parker and spread his hands. ‘Because I work here, I guess, sir.’
‘You just say, “Yes, sir.”’
‘Yes, sir.’
Parker turned to Yancy. ‘You got it?’
Yancy made an ironic face. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said.
‘Give the kid another dollar.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Yancy gave the baffled boy a dollar and closed the door after him. He turned to Parker: ‘You make a strong moral.’
‘I’m here to look over a job,’ Parker told him. ‘That’s all, just a job. Not to make pen pals.’
Yancy pointed at the bottle. ‘That won’t bother you,’ he said. ‘I don’t let it get out of hand.’
It was time to unbend a little. Parker knew he had Yancy squared away, and the thing to do now was ride out of it and get back to work with no rumpled feelings. He said, ‘Glass in the bathroom.’
Yancy smiled, the old alumnus smile again. ‘And for you?’
