do?”
“I say hello,” Redrick replied. “And you?”
Throaty laughed. Bones was irritated.
“Hello, hello, hello.” He removed his reproachful gaze from Redrick and flung himself down on the couch next to him. “You cannot behave that way. Do you understand me? You cannot!”
“Then arrange meetings in places where I don’t know anybody.”
“The boy is right,” Throaty interjected. “Our mistake. So who was that man?”
“Richard Noonan. He represents some companies that supply the institute. He lives here in the hotel.”
“You see how simple it is!” Throaty said to Bones. He picked up a colossal lighter shaped like the Statue of Liberty, looked at it doubtfully, and replaced it on the table.
“Where’s Burbridge,” Throaty asked in a friendly tone.
“Burbridge blew it.”
The two men exchanged a quick glance.
“Rest in peace,” Throaty said tensely. “Or has he been arrested?”
Redrick didn’t answer right away, taking slow long drags on his cigarette. He threw the butt on the floor.
“Don’t worry, everything’s safe. He’s in the hospital.”
“That’s some safe!” Bones said nervously. He jumped up and went over to the window. “Which hospital?”
“Don’t worry, everything is taken care of. Let’s get down to business. I’m sleepy.”
“What hospital specifically?” Bones asked in irritation.
“I’ve told you,” Redrick picked up the briefcase. “Are we doing business today or not?”
“We are, we are, son,” Throaty said heartily.
With unexpected agility he leaped to the floor, knocked all the magazines and newspapers from the coffee table, and sat in front of it, resting his hairy pink hands on his knees.
“Show your stuff.”
Redrick opened the briefcase, took out the list with prices, and put it on the table before Throaty. Throaty glanced at it and flicked it to the side. Bones stood behind him and started reading the list over his shoulder.
“That’s the bill,” Redrick said.
“I see. Let’s see the stuff,” Throaty said.
“The money,” Redrick said.
“What’s this ‘hoop’?” Bones asked suspiciously, pointing at the list over Throaty’s shoulder.
Redrick said nothing. He was holding the open briefcase on his lap and staring into the blue angelic eyes. Throaty finally chuckled.
“And why do I love you so much, my son?” he muttered. “And they say love at first sight doesn’t exist!” He sighed dramatically. “Phil, buddy, how do they say it here? Dole out the cabbage, lay some greenbacks on him… and give me a match. You see…” He waved his cigar at him.
Phil the Bones muttered something under his breath, tossed him a book of matches, and went through a curtain into the next room. Redrick could hear him talking to someone there, irritated and indistinct, something about the cat being in the bag, and Throaty, his cigar finally lit, kept staring at Redrick with a frozen smile on his thin pale lips. Redrick, chin on briefcase, was looking at him and also trying not to blink, even though his lids were burning and his eyes were tearing. Bones came back, threw two packs of money on the table, and sat next to Redrick in a huff. Redrick lazily reached for the money, but Throaty motioned him to stop, tore the wrappers from the money, and put them in his pajama pocket. “Now let’s see it.”
Redrick took the money and stuffed it into his inner jacket pocket without counting it. Then he presented his wares. He did it slowly, letting both of them examine the swag and check items off the list. It was quiet in the room, the only sound was Throaty’s heavy breathing and the jingle coming from the other room—a spoon against the side of a glass, perhaps.
When Redrick shut the briefcase and clicked the lock, Throaty looked up at him.
“What about the most important thing?”
“No way,” Redrick replied. He thought and added: “So far.”
“I like that ‘so far,’” Throaty said gently. “How about you, Phil?”
“You’re throwing dust in our eyes, Schuhart,” Bones said suspiciously. “Why the mystery, I ask you?”
“That comes with the territory: shady dealings,” Redrick said. “We’re in a demanding profession.”
“All right, all right,” Throaty said. “Where’s the camera?”
“Hell!” Redrick scratched his cheek, feeling the color rise in his face. “I’m sorry, I forgot all about it.”
“There?” Throaty asked making a vague gesture with the cigar.
“I don’t remember. Probably there.” Redrick shut his eyes and leaned back on the couch. “Nope. I clean forgot.”
“Too bad,” Throaty said. “But you at least saw the thing?”
“Not even that,” Redrick said sadly. “That’s the whole point. We didn’t get as far as the blast furnaces. Burbridge fell into the jelly and I had to head back immediately. You can be sure that if I’d seen it I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”
“Hey, Hugh, look at this!” Bones whispered in fright. “What’s this?”
He stuck out his right index finger. The white metal hoop was twirling around his finger and Bones was staring pop-eyed at the hoop.
“It’s not stopping!” he said aloud, moving his eyes from the hoop to Throaty and back again.
“What do you mean it’s not stopping?” Throaty asked carefully and moved away.
“I put it on my finger and gave it a spin, just for the hell of it, and it hasn’t stopped for a whole minute!”
Bones jumped up and, holding his finger extended before him, ran behind the curtain. The silvery hoop twirled smoothly in front of him like a propeller.
“What the hell did you bring us?” Throaty asked.
“God knows! I had no idea—if I had, I’d have asked more for it.”
Throaty stared at him, then got up and went behind the curtain.
Voices started babbling immediately. Redrick picked up a magazine from the floor and flipped through it. It was chock-full of beauties, but somehow they nauseated him just then. Redrick’s eyes roved around the room, looking for something to drink. Then he took a pack from his inside pocket and counted the bills. Everything was in order, but to keep from falling asleep, he counted the other one. Just as he was putting it back into his pocket, Throaty came back.
“You’re lucky, son,” he announced, sitting opposite Redrick once more. “Do you know what a perpetuum mobile is?”
“Nope, we never studied that.”
“And you don’t need to,” Throaty said. He pulled out another pack. “That’s the price for the first specimen,” he said, pulling off the wrapping. “For each new one you’ll get two packs like this. Got it, son? Two apiece. But only on the condition that no one except you and I ever know about it. Are we agreed?”
Redrick put the money in his pocket silently and stood up. “I’m going,” he said. “When and where for the next time?” Throaty also rose.
“You’ll be called. Wait for a call every Friday between nine and nine-thirty in the morning. You’ll get regards from Phil and Hugh and a meeting will be set up.”
Redrick nodded and headed for the door. Throaty followed, and put his hand on his shoulder.
“I want you to understand one thing,” he continued. “All this is very nice, charming, and so on, and the hoop is simply marvelous, but above all we need two things: the photos and the container filled up. Return our camera to us, but with exposed film, and our porcelain container, but not empty. Filled. And you’ll never have to go into the Zone again.”
Redrick shook Throaty’s hand from his shoulder, unlocked the door, and went out. Without turning he walked down the thickly carpeted hallway and sensed the unwavering blue angelic gaze fixed on the back of his neck. He didn’t wait for the elevator but walked down from the eighth floor.
Outside the Metropole he called a cab and went to the other side of town. The driver was a new one, someone Redrick didn’t know, a beak-nosed, pimply fellow. One of the hundreds that had poured into Harmont in
