She’s explained in some detail what she’d do to me if I strayed.”
“What about the other set?”
“Second’s more serious. I’d say life-or-death if it didn’t sound like I was blowing smoke up your skirt.”
“How many photographs altogether? Doesn’t matter. I’m just curious,” I said.
He thought about that, like the idea hadn’t occurred to him before. “I’d say ten.”
“You’re guessing ten or you’ve actually counted them?”
“I counted. There’s also the negatives. Copies without the negatives aren’t worth shit. Destroy one set and all a fellow has to do is print ’em up again.”
“Why give them to me?”
He paused to remove a fleck of tobacco from his tongue. “Good question,” he said without volunteering a response.
“Pinky, I’m not going to hang on to anything unless you tell me what’s going on.”
“Understood,” he said. He looked up at the ceiling. “Let’s see how I can explain and still exercise my fifth- amendment rights.”
“Take your time.”
He thought for a moment. “I may have picked my way into the premises of a person I believed was in possession of the material in the envelope. I’m not saying I did, but it’s possible. It’s also possible I’d looked for the items elsewhere and when they didn’t come to light, I deduced their whereabouts.”
“Why get involved in the first place?”
“I wanted to eliminate the threat to a friend of mine. In the process, these other pictures came to light and that’s what’s put me in a bind. Big-time.”
“Doesn’t that suggest that anyone
“Why would anyone suspect you?”
“What if you were followed? There could be a guy parked down the block with binoculars trained on my door. You come in with the envelope. You leave without it. The bad guys aren’t stupid. I don’t care who they are, they’re going to figure it out.”
He shifted in his chair, apparently discomfited by the idea. The look he turned on me was shrewd. “You could give me another manila envelope to carry with me when I leave.”
I squinted. “You know what? This really doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. You know I’d help if I could, but you’ve dug yourself a hole and I don’t want to fall into it with you.”
This was not the response he was looking for. “How about I leave the photos for one day?”
“How do I know you’ll come back for them?”
“Because I got a good use for them, but not right away. This is just for safekeeping. One day.” He held up one finger to dramatize the time frame like the number 1 was somehow ambiguous.
“I know you better than that. You’ll do what’s expedient and I’ll be stuck.”
“Promise I’ll come back for them. I swear.”
“I don’t understand why one day will make a difference.”
“I’m setting up a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. I’m in a jam and the photos are my get-out-of-jail-free card, but only if I get them to the relevant party. Meantime, you can put the envelope in your safe and forget it’s there.”
“What makes you think I have a safe?”
The look he gave me was pained, like it was obvious. “I’ll pick ’em up by noon tomorrow and that’s the last you’ll hear.”
I wanted to slam my fingers in the pencil drawer, which in the end would have been less painful than his proposal. “Please don’t ask me to do this.”
“I
I stared at him. Jailbirds are so often like this, I thought. In prison or out, they wheedle and manipulate. Maybe they can’t help it. They chain themselves to the proverbial railroad tracks knowing good souls, like me, will gallop to the rescue. When I do as predicted, guess who ends up under the train?
Everything in me cried out in protest. How many times have I said yes in situations like this with disastrous results? How many times have I fallen for just such a pitch? The purpose of intuition is to warn us when the wolf arrives at the door dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. I opened my mouth, not even certain what would come out. “Something about this doesn’t feel right to me,” I said. “Actually, none of it feels right.”
“You’re the only friend I have.”
“Stop that. There has to be somebody else.”
He shrugged, refusing to look me in the eye. “Let’s hope. Otherwise, I’m in a world of hurt.”
I sat there wondering which was worse: making the wrong decision and having a load of shit rain down on my head, or avoiding calamity and feeling overwhelmed with guilt. That was the moment that nearly did me in. I teetered on the brink and finally shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but if I agree, I’ll regret it.”
He stood up and I followed suit. When he reached across the desk to shake my hand, he managed to convey a sense of finality. “I don’t want you to feel bad for turning me down. I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”
“I hope you figure it out.”
“Me too. Meanwhile, I appreciate your time. You take care now. I can let myself out.”
“Will you keep in touch?”
“If possible,” he said.
We exchanged awkward good-byes and then he left my inner office, moving toward the outside door. I truly wondered if I’d ever see him again. I returned to the office window and looked out. It took a few seconds before he appeared in my field of vision. I should have known he was up to something, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I leaned my head against the glass, watching as he disappeared down the street. I half expected to hear gunfire or the squeal of tires as a license-plate-free vehicle accelerated and ran over him.
I sank into my swivel chair and experienced the full weight of my remorse. Next time he asked for anything-if he lived long enough-I’d say yes no matter what. This was one of those “little did I know” moments, though I wasn’t aware of it at the time. I don’t know how long I might have sat there berating myself, but I had another visitor.
I heard a tap on the outside door, which then opened and closed. I got up and crossed to the door, peering around the frame to find out who’d come in. Marvin’s bar buddy, Earldeen, was in the process of taking off her coat. It crossed my mind he might have sent her to apologize, being too cowardly and too embarrassed to do so himself.
I said, “Hey, Earldeen. I didn’t expect to see you.”
She held up one of the business cards I’d left at the Hatch. “Lucky Ollie had this or I wouldn’t have known where you were.”
“Come on in,” I said. “You want me to hang that up?”
“This is fine,” she said. She laid her coat over the back of one of the guest chairs while she took a seat in the other. She was easily a head taller than me and she’d probably fallen into the habit of bad posture as a teen in hopes of looking the same height as everyone else. The scent of bourbon hovered in the air around her, though she was sober as far as I could tell.
I returned to my desk and sat down. “Is there some way I can be of help?”
“More like I’m here to help you. Something came up I thought you ought to know about.”
“I can hardly wait.”
“Well, after you left the Hatch yesterday, this fellow came in. I hadn’t seen him for a while, but he knew Audrey pretty well, because the two of them used to have these long heart-to-heart talks. This was a year ago, before she and Marvin started stepping out together. I haven’t seen him since. I thought he must be an ex- husband or an old boyfriend, someone she didn’t want Marvin to know about.”
“And was that the case?”
“At the time, I wasn’t sure, but I’ll admit I was curious. He’s a good-looking guy. Midfifties, tall, with curly gray hair, and these big old brown eyes. He and Audrey always had their heads together and when I asked who he was, she brushed the question aside. They were a bad match in my opinion. She was a good ten years older than
