Six thousand dollars!
We could not only give this place the complete face-lift it so badly needed, we could even run to a spot on the local T.V. station. We could
hire a barman. We could be in business!
Then I remembered how Timoteo had handled the rifle. An expert shot? Not in five years!
'Thanks for your confidence, Mr. Savanto,' I said. 'I certainly could use money like that, but I must be honest with you. I don't think your son will ever be a good shot. Sure, I could train him to shoot straight, but that's all. He doesn't like guns. Unless you really like guns, you just can't be a good shot.'
Savanto rubbed the hack of his neck and his eyes narrowed.
'I think perhaps I will have one of your cigarettes, Mr. Benson. My doctor doesn't like me to smoke, but sometimes the urge is too strong for me. A cigarette at the right time is soothing.'
I gave him a cigarette and lit it for him. He inhaled and let the smoke drift down his nostrils while he stared at the top of the table and while I thought of what Lucy and I could do with six thousand dollars.
Silence hung in the room along with our cigarette smoke. The ball was in his court so I waited.
'Mr. Benson, I appreciate that you are being honest with me,' he said finally, 'and this I like. I wouldn't be happy if you said you could make Timoteo into a good shot the moment I mentioned six thousand dollars. I know my son's limitations. However, he must become an expert shot in nine days. You told me you don't perform miracles. In a normal situation I would accept this, but this isn't a normal situation. The fact remains my son must become an expert shot in nine days.'
I stared at him.
'Why?'
'There are important reasons. They need not concern you.' His snake's eyes glittered. He paused to tap ash off his cigarette into the glass ash-tray on the table. 'You talk of miracles, but this is the age of miracles. Before coming here, I made inquiries about you. I wouldn't be here unless I was satisfied that you are the man I am looking for. Not only do you have a great shooting talent, but also you are very determined. During the years you served in Vietnam you spent long, dangerous and uncomfortable hours in the jungle, alone with your rifle. You killed eighty-two Vietcong . . . cold blooded, brilliant shooting. A man who can do that is the man I am looking for . . . a man who doesn't admit defeat.' He paused to stub out his cigarette, then went on, 'How much money do you want to make my son an expert shot, Mr. Benson?'
I moved uneasily.
'No amount of money can make him that in nine days. Maybe in six months, I might do something with him, but nine days . . . no! Money doesn't come into it. I told you . . . he hasn't any talent.'
He studied me.
'Of course money comes into it. I have learned over the years that money will buy anything . . . providing there is enough of it. You are already thinking what you could do with six thousand dollars. With that amount of money you would be able to make a modest living out of this school. And yet six thousand dollars isn't a big enough sum to convince you that you can perform a miracle.' He took from the inside pocket of his jacket a long white envelope. 'I have here, Mr. Benson, two bearer bonds. I find them more convenient to carry around than a lot of cash. Each bond is worth twenty-five thousand dollars.' He tossed the envelope across the table. 'Look at them. Satisfy yourself that they are what I say they are.'
My hands were unsteady as I took the bonds from the envelope and examined them. I had never seen a bearer bond before so I had no idea if they were genuine or not, but they looked genuine.
'I am now offering you fifty thousand dollars to perform a miracle, Mr. Benson.'
I put the bonds down on the table. My hands had turned clammy and my heart was thumping.
'You can't be serious.' My voice was husky.
'I am, Mr. Benson. Make my son an expert shot in nine days and these bonds are yours.'
To gain a moment of time, I said, 'I don't know anything about bonds. These could be just pieces of paper.'
Savanto smiled.
'So you see, I am right when I said enough money buys anything. You now want to know if these bonds are forgeries. You no longer tell me that you can't perform a miracle.' He leaned forward, tapping the bonds with his finger nail. 'These are genuine, but don't take my word for it. Let us go to your bank and see what they have to say. Let us ask them if they will convert these two pieces of paper into fifty thousand dollars cash.'
I got up and moved to the window. The little room felt suffocatingly hot. I stared out of the window at the black Cadillac and at the beanpole sitting motionless in the back seat.
'That won't be necessary,' I said. 'Okay . . . so they are genuine.'
Again he smiled at me.
'That is good for there is little time to waste. I will now return to the Imperial Hotel where I am staying.' He glanced at his watch. 'It is just after five o'clock. Please telephone me at seven o'clock this evening and tell me whether or not you will perform a miracle for fifty thousand dollars.'
He put the bonds in his pocket and stood up.
'Just a moment,' I said, annoyed with myself at sounding so breathless. 'I have to know why your son has to shoot so well and what his target will be. Unless I know, I can't hope to prepare him. You talk about an expert shot, but there are all kinds of experts. I must know, Mr. Savanto.'
He thought for a long moment. He had picked up his hat and was
staring into it.
