for instance, and no lamp handy to the armchair near the window, and no table on the right side of the sofa.
Before the meeting, Claire had said to Parker, “This may sound silly, but should there be any refreshments or anything? I mean, should I get some beer or anything like that?”
“Be a good idea to have some stuff on hand,” Parker said. “But don’t do any bridge club number, bringing in the little sandwiches on the tray.”
“I know better than that,” she said.
When Billy arrived, Claire was still getting dressed. Parker opened the door and Billy came in saying, “I guess I’m early.”
“Go sit down,” Parker told him, and shut the door.
Billy was at his most nervous, looking around like a possum coming out of a hole. He settled in a chair at the far end of the living room, and sat there fidgeting.
Parker couldn’t stand to be around such restlessness, so he went into the bedroom and sprawled on the bed there and watched Claire dress.
She was a good woman, good to look at and good to be with. Sensible and independent. Not full of foolishness.
Looking at her now, as she moved around the room in bra and panties, he felt no immediate desire for her, but that was because he was thinking mostly about the work, the meeting, the personalities. Still, there was a background aura of remembered pleasure, and the good feeling of watching a body he had known. There would be time to bring the memories up to date, afterward.
By the time the bell rang she was ready, wearing pale green stretch pants and a green and pink and white blouse. “I’ll get it this time,” she said, and they went out of the bedroom together.
The look Billy gave them was full of pain, seeing them emerging together from the bedroom, but they both ignored him. Parker went to the kitchen and opened himself a beer, and when he came back to the living room Lempke was there with Mike Carlow.
Carlow was a narrow rawboned guy, a little shorter than medium height. He was about forty, with the leathery face and washed-out eyes of a man who spends most of his time outdoors. His nose was long and narrow, lips thin, Adam’s apple prominent. He said, “Hello, Parker. Long time no see.”
“There’s beer,” Parker told him.
“Good. Want one, Lempke?”
“Not for me, thanks,” said Lempke. He smiled apologetically and patted his stomach. “Belly’s acting up,” he said.
Carlow went on into the kitchen, and Parker said to Lempke, “How much does he know?”
“Most of it. That he’s supposed to drive, that it’s a break-in with armed guards, that it’s valuable coins and we’ve got a dealer to fence. And that there’s five of us in it, with shares to be worked out.”
“All right. You introduce him to Billy.”
“Sure.”
Lempke went away, and Claire came over to say, “Should I leave when the meeting starts?”
“No. You’re in it.”
She looked surprised. “I am?”
“It’s your caper, remember? You started it going.”
“So I’m going to be a part of it.”
“That’s right.”
She shrugged. “If you don’t mind amateurs,” she said.
“You’ll do your part all right.”
“Thank you.” The bell sounded, and she said, “I’ll get it.”
Lempke and Carlow and Billy were all standing at the far end of the room now, talking together. Billy was looking eager, Lempke sick, Carlow indrawn and waiting. Parker waited by the kitchen door, watching Claire in the short hall, opening the front door.
It was Otto Mainzer, a burly tall man dressed in black. His hair was so pale blond, and cut so short, that in most lights he looked bald. His face was dominated by a large hook nose with flaring nostrils. Eyes and mouth were both thin, flat, pale. The expression he seemed habitually to be trying for was arrogance, but instead he looked merely irritated. When he saw Claire a surprised smile creased his face, looking strange there, as though it had been delivered to the wrong address. He said something to Claire, Parker didn’t hear what, but he saw her stiffen. Her reply was short and curt, and Mainzer’s smile turned cynical. “Sure thing,” he said, and came on into the apartment.
Parker went over to him and shook his hand, saying, “Good to see you.”
“Been a few years,” Mainzer said. He looked as though he should be speaking with an accent, but he was native-born and the only trace in his speech was a touch of Boston.
“We’re all here,” Parker said. “Come on over. Lempke tell you the situation?”
“Coins. We got a tame dealer.”
“Right.”
Mainzer nodded his head at Claire. “Lempke didn’t say anything about that.”
