Firebreak

'You said Customs before,' Parker said. 'So you were smuggling.'

'Cigarettes north, out of DC, where you don't have the state and local taxes,' Arthur said. 'Whiskey south. It isn't a crime against people, it's a crime against the tax man, the closest thing you got to a victimless crime. No violence, or at least usually. Good profit. I don't see where killing has to come into it at this late date.'

Lloyd had taken a penknife from his pocket, and carefully sliced away the brown paper and brown packaging tape. Inside it actually was a cigar box, with pictures of flamenco dancers on the lid and sides. Lloyd lifted the box away from the brown paper, put it down by itself, brushed the brown paper to the floor, and leaned close to study the box.

Parker said* 'I'm trying to remember a name. An outfit in Bayonne.'

Arthur gave him a sharp look. 'What kind of outfit?'

'Cosmopolitan, that was it,' Parker said. 'Cosmopolitan Beverages.'

'Wait a minute,' Arthur said, beginning to have doubts again. 'If you're nothing to do with Customs, nothing to do with Cosmopolitan, how do you know about it?'

'The first hitter they sent,' Parker told him, 'was a Russian with a cover at Cosmopolitan. The people in the office there never heard of him, but he had papers on him showed he worked for them, had his green card, could travel anywhere he wanted.'

'Here goes nothing,' Lloyd said, and lifted the lid.

The other two looked at him. Absorbed, he gazed into the box. 'Cigars,' he said.

Parker stood and crossed over to look into the box. Slender long cigars, dark brown leaf, lay in a neat tight row, packed edge to edge in the box, flattened slightly along their upper surfaces from the pressure of the lid.

Arthur had stayed where he was, but was curious. 'It's cigars?'

'On top,' Lloyd said, and pointed to the end of the last cigar on the right. 'See that wire?'

Parker had to lean close to see it; another hair-thin wire, like the one to trigger the camera at Claire's house, except this one was coiled around the end of the cigar.

Arthur had come over. 'What is it?'

'A little wire,' Lloyd said, and pointed at it.

Arthur took off his glasses with both hands, folded the wings, and bent close to look where Lloyd was pointing. 'Son of a bitch,' he said, and straightened, and put his glasses back on.

Lloyd said, 'This is as deep into this box as I want to

go.'

'We don't have to go any more,' Parker said. 'We all know what the story is now. Don't we, Arthur?'

Arthur sighed. 'I would have called that number,' he said.

They all looked at the row of cigars in the open box. Then Lloyd lifted his head. 'I haven't heard snoring for a while,' he said.

Arthur said, 'Well, she doesn't snore all the time.'

'Look,' Parker said.

Lloyd nodded and got to his feet and left the room.

'She's a heavy sleeper,' Arthur insisted.

They waited, and Lloyd came back. 'She's gone.'

'Damn!' Arthur cried. 'She must of woke herself up, she wakes herself up sometimes with the snoring, rolls over, goes back to sleep.'

'Heard voices,' Lloyd suggested.

'Probably looked in here from the hall,' Arthur said. 'Recognized you from the description.'

'There's a bedroom window open,' Lloyd said. 'Wasn't open before.'

'She's got to be in robe and slippers,' Arthur said.

He looked anxious, bewildered. 'Where's she gonna go}'

Parker turned to answer him, and saw the television on. 'There,' he said, pointing.

They all looked. The set had switched on, to show them an interior too dark to clearly make out. There seemed to be movement there.

Arthur said, 'She went to your place? What's she doing there?'

Parker said, 'Looking for the phone.'

5

Picking up Arthur's phone, punching out Claire's number, Parker said, 'Does your wife know this number on the paper?'

'She should,' he said. 'The both of us have been looking at it for days, that's why I put it under the phone. You calling your place?'