«Oh?» FJ’s eyes slithered toward Myron. Myron kept up the eye contact, but there was still nothing there, like looking into the windows of an abandoned building. «I’d been informed otherwise.»
Myron shrugged. «Life is change. FJ. Gotta learn to adapt.»
«Adapt,» FJ said, «or die.».
Myron nodded and said, «Oooo.»
FJ kept the stare going a few more seconds. He had skin that looked like wet clay, as if it might dissolve under heavy rains. He turned back to Brenda. «Your father used to be your agent,» he said. «Before Myron.»
Myron handled that one. «And what if he was?»
«He signed with us. Brenda was going to bow out of the WPBA and join the PWBL. It’s all spelled out in the contract.»
Myron looked at Brenda. She shook her head. «You have Ms. Slaughter’s signature on those contracts?» he asked.
«Like I said, her father-»
«Who has no legal standing in this matter whatsoever. Do you have Brenda’s signature or not?»
FJ looked rather displeased. Bubba and Rocco moved closer still. «We do not.»
«Then you have nothing.» Myron unlocked his car door. «But we’ve all enjoyed this too brief time together. I know I’m a better person for it.»
Bubba and Rocco started toward him. Myron opened the car door. His gun was under his car seat. He debated making a move. It would be dumb, of course. Someone – probably Brenda or Myron – would get hurt.
FJ lifted a hand, and the two men stopped as though they’d been sprayed by Mr. Freeze. «We’re not mobsters,» FJ said. «We’re businessmen.»
«Right,» Myron said. «And Bubba and Rocco over there – they your CPAs?»
A tiny smile came to FJ’s lips. The smile was strictly reptilian, meaning it was far warmer than his other ones. «If you are indeed her agent,» FJ said, «then it would behoove you to speak with me.»
Myron nodded. «Call my office, make an appointment,» he said.
«We’ll talk soon then,» FJ said.
«Looking forward to it. And keep using the word behoove. It really impresses people.»
Brenda opened her car door and got in. Myron did likewise. FJ came around to Myron’s window and knocked on the glass. Myron lowered the window.
«Sign with us or don’t sign with us,» FJ said quietly. That’s business. But when I kill you, well, that will be for fun.»
Myron was about to crack wise again, but something – probably a fly-through of good sense – made him pause. FJ moved away then. Rocco and Bubba followed. Myron watched them disappear, his heart flapping in his chest like a caged condor.
11
They parked on a lot on Seventy-first Street and walked to the Dakota. The Dakota remains one of New York ’s premier buildings, though it’s still best known for John Lennon’s assassination. A fresh bouquet of roses marked the spot where his body had fallen. Myron always felt a little weird crossing over it, as if he were trampling on a grave or something. The Dakota doorman must have seen Myron a hundred times by now, but he always pretended otherwise and buzzed up to Win’s apartment.
Introductions were brief. Win found Brenda a place to study. She broke out a medical textbook the size of a stone tablet and made herself comfortable. Win and Myron moved back into a living room semidecorated in the manner of Louis the Somethingteenth. There was a fireplace with big iron tools and a bust on the mantel. The substantial furniture looked, as always, freshly polished yet plenty old. Oil paintings of stern yet effeminate men stared down from the walls. And just to keep things in the proper decade, there were a big-screen TV and VCR front and center.
The two friends sat and put their feet up.
«So what do you think?» Myron asked.
«She’s too big for my tastes,» Win said. «But nicely toned legs.»
«I mean, about protecting her.»
«We’ll find a place,» Win said. He laced his hands behind his neck. «Talk to me.»
«Do you know Arthur Bradford?»
«The gubernatorial candidate?»
«Yes.»
Win nodded. «We’ve met several times. I played golf with him and his brother once at Merion.»
«Can you set up a meet?»
«No problem. They’ve been hitting us up for a sizable donation.» He crossed his ankles. «So how does Arthur Bradford fit into all this?»
Myron recapped the day’s developments: the Honda Accord following them, the phone taps, the bloody clothes, Horace Slaughter’s phone calls to Bradford ’s office, FJ’s surprise visit, Elizabeth Bradford’s murder, and Anita’s role in finding the body.
Win looked unimpressed. «Do you really see a link between the Bradfords ’ past and the Slaughters’ present?»
«Yeah, maybe.»
«Then let me see if I can follow your rationale. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.»
«Okey-dokey.»
Win dropped his feet to the floor and steepled his fingers, resting his indexes against his chin. «Twenty years ago Elizabeth Bradford died under somewhat murky circumstances. Her death was ruled an accident, albeit a bizarre one. You do not buy that one. The Bradfords are rich, and thus you are extra-suspicious of the official rendering-»
«It’s not just that they’re rich,» Myron interrupted. 1 mean, falling off her own porch? Come on.»
«Yes, fine, fair enough.» Win did the hand-steeple again. «Let us pretend that you are correct in your suspicions. Let us assume that something unsavory did indeed occur when Elizabeth Bradford plunged to her death. And I am further going to assume – as you no doubt have – that Anita Slaughter, in her capacity as maid or servant or what have you, happened upon the scene and witnessed something incriminating.»
Myron nodded. «Continue.»
Win spread his hands. «Well, my friend, that is where you reach an impasse. If the dear Ms. Slaughter did indeed see something that she was not supposed to, the issue would have been resolved immediately. I know the Bradfords. They are not people who take chances. Anita Slaughter would have been killed or forced to run immediately. But instead – and here is the rub – she waited a full nine months before disappearing. I therefore conclude that the two incidents are unrelated.»
Behind them Brenda cleared her throat. They both turned to the doorway. She stared straight at Myron. She did not look happy.
«I thought you two were discussing a business problem,» she said.
«We are,» Myron said quickly. T, uh, mean, we’re going to. That’s why I came here. To discuss a business problem. But we just started talking about this first, and well, you know, one thing led to another. But it wasn’t intentional or anything. I mean, I came here to discuss a business problem, right, Win?»
Win leaned forward and patted Myron’s knee. «Smooth,» he said.
She crossed her arms. Her eyes were two drill bits -say, three-sixteenths of an inch, quarter-inch tops.
«How long have you been standing there?» Myron asked.
Brenda gestured toward Win. «Since he said I had nicely toned legs,» she said. T missed the part about being too big for his tastes.»
Win smiled. Brenda did not wait to be asked. She crossed the room and grabbed an open chair. She kept her eyes on Win. «For the record, I don’t buy any of this either,» Brenda said to him. «Myron has trouble believing a mother would just abandon her little daughter. He has no trouble believing a father would do the same, just not a
