when you really want something, you have to take action.” His hand eased toward his left trouser pocket.
“That’s the beauty of this approach for them,” Cindy said, moving her hands in a very animated fashion, her face glowing with the excitement Hannibal had seen on the faces of hunters getting close to a deer. “DPOs are designed so small businesses can raise capital in a relatively easy and low cost way. Venture capital and private investors aren’t always accessible to them. Then they face the scary task of trying to raise debt financing. DPOs let them raise equity financing instead, and at the same time they give investors a chance to get in early. Hey, here come our entrees. Hannibal, you are so sweet to think of this.”
The soft, jazz flavored background music seemed to swell as Hannibal’s prime rib arrived. Cindy had chosen the shrimp stuffed with breaded crab. He loved the way her silver necklace glinted in the fading sunlight as she bent to her food with obvious delight. Watching her perfect white teeth tear at the jumbo shrimp, he reflected again on the phenomenon of a woman who could make eating a meal an act of sensuous abandon.
Conversation stilled as they dined, and words seemed unnecessary toward the end of the meal. At some unspoken signal they reached for each other and held hands while they watched evening turn into night around them. They enjoyed the show as Downtown Washington lit up. Their view of the Lincoln Memorial was stunning, but not as moving as the perfect picture that shaped up in front of them as the Washington Monument and the lighted Capitol Dome slid into position to present a postcard come to life. The reflecting pool, stretched out between them and the monuments, appeared to have been placed there in anticipation that these two lovers would some day sit in this exact spot in the middle of the Potomac to see it.
The Kennedy Center and the oddly curved Watergate Hotel complex moved past before the canned music was replaced by live tinkling from the piano at the center of the deck and the sharp but sweet aroma of cinnamon- heavy apple pie drew Hannibal’s senses back into the ship.
“I hope that pie is as good as this cheesecake,” Cindy said. Her dark eyes told him that she had drunk just enough wine with dinner to loosen her up a notch. Maybe he would try one more time. He emptied his glass, and took Cindy’s other hand.
“Cindy, I talked to a girl today who wants my help with a problem, but I think she found it difficult to talk to me. You know, sometimes it’s hard for people to discuss what’s really important with someone face to face. You know what I mean?”
“Oh, yeah baby, it’s the same in my business,” she said. “That’s what makes the Internet so great. Like for this case I’m working right now. See, unlike an IPO certain DPOs let companies actively advertise and promote the sale of their stock. The SEC even allows the electronic transfer of the company's prospectus to an investor. That way, the company execs don’t have to be salesmen and talk to people, you know? Hey, name that tune!”
“What?” Hannibal had to think a minute. She had switched gears twice, and landed on a very old jazz tune coming from the piano.
“Isn’t that Deep Purple?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I want to dance. Don’t you want to dance?” They rose together without their hands parting. As they arrived at their spot a few feet from the other two dancing couples, Cindy asked, “So what about that case? Are you going to take it?”
Hannibal clamped his eyes shut and stifled a sigh, accepting that this evening would simply not go in the direction he expected it to. Their night had become her night, and he would simply have to devise another opportunity to pop the question.
“Well, it looks like I’ll have time for a case in the next few days. I guess I’ll take it after all.”
5
For Hannibal it was the start of a typical workday, if there was such a thing. There was a limit to the kinds of trouble people got into, so there were only so many ways for Hannibal to earn his living. Some days, he provided physical protection for someone. Like his last case, that was mostly waiting for something to happen. Some days he delivered messages his client could not deliver themselves, usually backing the message up with violence. That kind of trouble most often ended quickly. Hannibal’s time in the secret service had prepared him well for those assignments.
The rest of his workdays were what he called legwork days. That meant doing the drudgework he hated, pursuing leads to find something or someone. His days with the New York police department had prepared him for those days.
After a good long run to clear his head and a frozen waffle breakfast, he brewed a fresh pot of coffee and worked the telephone for a couple of hours. He didn’t tell Anita, but she had actually given him a pretty good lead on Rod. The car he drove was a very special customization. Whoever did that work would remember it. And people who do that kind of thing know each other. One call to an auto customizer led to another, on a telephone trail that seemed to move farther and farther west, until he got the comment he was waiting for.
“Mister, only one man on the east coast could have pulled off a chop job like that one.”
Hannibal stepped out of his building just before eleven o’clock, pushing his sunglasses into place. A shout from up the block got his attention as he reached for his car door handle. Monte Washington was marching toward him. As always, Hannibal stifled his reaction to middle school fashion. Hannibal was sure Monte’s jeans were below his narrow butt, and he wondered what kept them from falling off.
“Dude! I been wanting to talk to you,” Monte said. His hair was in tight cornrow braids these days, and his chocolate complexion darkened by the summer sun. “You gotta tell me what it was like, hanging with Huge Wilson. Did you meet Missy and Timberland? And I know he got all the fly honeys, but did he share?”
“I was working, Monte. I wasn’t focused on the honeys,” Hannibal said. Was Timberland a person? Hannibal thought it was a brand of boots. “And I’ve been wanting to talk to you too, after the last time I spoke with your grandmother.” Monte was the first person in the neighborhood to speak to Hannibal when he first arrived. Much of his drive to keep drug dealers out of the area stemmed from his concern for this one young man and the grandmother who was raising him. For Hannibal, Monte symbolized the promise of the future.
“What’s Grandma been telling you now?” Monte asked, sliding his portable CD player’s headphones on.
“She told me about your final report card this year,” Hannibal said. “I’m not happy. We had a deal.”
“It wasn’t all that bad, bro.”
“You can do better,” Hannibal said. “And I wonder if you’ve been reading this summer like you said you would.”
“You want me to waste my time with my head in a book?” Monte asked with a grin. “Maybe we need to hook up a new deal.”
Hannibal turned to lean back against his car. He had the feeling he had stepped into a well concealed bear trap. “What do you have in mind, you little hustler?”
“I know you didn’t realize what a great opportunity you just passed up,” Monte said, padding around in what Hannibal thought were Timberlands. “But since you made the connection, well, you could introduce me to Huge.”
“I could.” Hannibal looked around his block, smelling the eternal heat of the city and feeling the summer slipping away like Monte’s chances at success. Did he realize that he was in a race, and that some of his peers were already running? “But that’s a tall order. I think a meeting like that, under positive circumstances, would be worth, let’s say a book every two weeks, through the summer, and maybe the same deal after school starts.”
“What?” Monte back-pedaled. “You don’t want me to have no life at all?”
“Well, if it’s not worth it to you,” Hannibal turned and pulled the handle of his car door.
“Okay, okay, but for that deal, I got to have five minutes alone with the brother, so I can get him to listen to some of my rhyming,” Monte said. “I could be his next big thing, you know?”
“Sure, Monte. Now listen, I got work to do. And you better get to the library and find something good because I’ll hook you up with Huge before the end of next week.”
Before his conversation with Monte faded from his mind, Hannibal was cruising down I-295, watching for the
