a man about to be asked to show how good he is, a man who knows he’s more than good enough. His hair was gray, but he had the face of a young man.
“Show your stuff to Wemm,” the round man said. “He’s the one knows all about this.”
“What do you do?” Parker asked.
“I’m the boss,” the round man said. “Is she gonna leave those lights on out there?”
“I don’t know.” Parker turned his back on the round man and said to Wemm, “You want to see these pictures?”
“They might help,” Wemm said.
Parker handed them over, Wemm skimmed through them briefly, and then shook his head. “Come along,” he said, and started away.
The room they were in was large and open, with a cement floor. Pipes and hoses crisscrossed on the ceiling. Fluorescent lights made the place as bright as day. Over on the right, three late-model automobiles were masked and taped, waiting for the spray.
Wemm led Parker to a small glass-windowed cubicle on the left. Inside were a cluttered desk and two chairs. Wemm motioned to Parker to take one chair, while he took the one at the desk. He spread the photographs out on the clutter atop the desk and bent the fluorescent desk lamp closer to them. After squinting at the pictures a minute, he said to Parker, “How’s this color reproduction? Any good?”
“How do I know?”
“You might look. Is this the same color as the real truck or isn’t it?”
Parker leaned over and studied the nearest photo, then said, “I think it’s brighter. Not much.”
Wemm nodded. “I thought so,” he said. “It’s what you might call institutional orange. All the same people that put that puke green in all the hallways, when it comes time to paint a truck, this is the color they use.”
“You know the color, then.”
“It ain’t gonna be easy to match.”
“Why not? If you already know it—”
“This is a private place. What we do is cars, private passenger cars.” He tapped one of the photos. “This isn’t what you could call a popular color for private passenger cars.”
Parker sat back. “Can’t you do it?”
“Sure I can do it.”
“Then what’s all the talk?”
Wemm spread his hands. “I want you to understand the problems we got to face here.”
“Why?”
“What’s that?”
“Why do I have to understand the problems you got to face here?”
“Well—” Wemm blinked, and looked at the photos, and shook his head. “Be damned if I know,” he said. He gave Parker a small wondering smile. “Just shooting off my mouth, I guess.”
Parker said, “When will it be done?”
“You want to take it out tomorrow night, don’t you?”
“If I can.”
“You can.”
“I’ll need it covered with a tarp or something.”
Wemm nodded. “The body. That’s no problem. And over the name on the doors, we put a piece of cardboard with masking tape, put some other company name on it. You got any favorites?”
“No.”
“Then that’s it. I’ll need to keep the pictures.”
“Naturally.” Parker got to his feet. “I’ll want it delivered.”
“You talk to the boss about that,” Wemm said. “That, and money.”
“All right.”
Parker found the boss out by the overhead door. “I’ll want it delivered tomorrow night,” he said..
“Delivered? What’s the matter with your chauffeur out there?”
“She won’t be here.”
“Delivered.” He took the cigar out of his mouth, shook his head. “That’s extra.”
“Five,” Parker said.
“I don’t know—”
“Don’t push so hard,” Parker told him. “You’ll get another customer some day.”
The round man shrugged with sudden irritation and said, “The hell with it. It’s all in the same price. Don’t worry
