'Listen,' Rafferty says. 'I need everybody to be quiet. I'm putting this call on speaker, but I'm not going to tell the guy I'm talking to. He'd have a heart attack.'
He waits until Miaow and Pim have put down the trays, and then he waves everyone quiet again and dials. On the third ring, he checks his watch-6:21 P.M.-but then Elson picks up.
Rafferty raises the phone to his lips so he won't sound like he's on speaker. 'Richard. Poke Rafferty.'
Elson says, 'Yeah?' He sounds like someone who expects to be asked for a loan.
'And a big hi to you, too.'
'You're calling after hours. Means you don't want to talk on an office phone. How'd you get my cell number?'
'You gave it to me. Back when Frank-my father-was here.'
'You should have torn it up.'
'You should have changed it. But how's this? I'll erase it after this call.'
Elson sighs into the phone. 'What is it, then?'
'It's a hypothetical.'
'I've been waiting all day for a hypothetical.'
'Good. Then I'll lay it out and you tell me how probable or improbable it is.'
There's a pause, and then Elson says, 'Do you need a prompt to get started?'
'No. Okay, a guy working for a defense contractor, let's say Grayhawk or one of those, he's engaged on missions for the U.S. in… oh, I don't know, the Middle East, and while he's in a third country-'
'Third?'
'Neither the U.S. nor the country his mission is in.'
'Okay.'
'So in this third country he gets into very serious trouble. Let's say he kills several people. Kills them ugly. Let's say they're defenseless women. Let's say there are more than several.'
In the silence that follows, Rafferty can hear Elson doing something that sounds like jingling the change in his pocket. 'Is this public knowledge? In your hypothetical, I mean.'
'No. Nobody's heard a word about it except the people who are directly involved. And then let's say he's arrested in the third country and the American embassy is contacted as a courtesy, as they always are.'
For a moment Rafferty thinks Elson has hung up. But then he says, 'Yes?'
'How improbable is it that the U.S. would make a secret arrangement to spirit him out?'
'As opposed, for instance, to having a sensational trial that they can't control.'
'Exactly.'
'All right, let me make sure I have this straight. An employee of an American contractor, on a mission in, hypothetically, Afghanistan, does something horrific in another country, hypothetically Thailand, and the issue is whether, either in the State Department or in the Department of Defense, there might be a black-ops budget with minimum oversight, so nobody with any rank would be involved if the situation blew up in their faces, and whether that hypothetical budget has money in it that could be used to yank that contractor out of the third country before the media circus makes the U.S. look like bloodthirsty savages and the Senate starts demanding hearings into the war effort and secret budgets and the impeachment of the president. Umm, let's see, and that there are also people in the right places who have access to that budget and would be willing to spend it. Is that about it?'
'Very good.'
'And also reopen the whole basic issue about contractors.'
'Which issue?'
'About how they're not there because they were drafted. About how they volunteered and even competed for a slot where their basic job is to kill people. And about how there are always going to be psychopaths among them, no matter how stridently the people in charge deny it.'
Arthit's eyes meet Rafferty's.
'Yeah,' Rafferty says. 'All those issues.'
'And you want to know what, exactly?'
'How improbable it is that the government would spring a guy like that.'
'Hmmm.' Rafferty can envision the reflection on Elson's glasses as he lifts his chin, the man's thin lips tightening as he thinks. 'Tell you what. There's no commonly accepted index for improbability that I know about. So why don't you give me an example of something improbable, and I'll tell you whether your scenario is less or more improbable than that.'
Rafferty looks up to find Arthit's eyes still on him. Arthit mouths one word: Frank.
Rafferty nods and says, 'Off the top of my head, okay? Let's say a U.S. government agency takes an Anglo man who needs to hide out for the rest of his life and assigns him a false identity that was originally set up for a Chinese man, without even changing the Chinese man's name, although the guy hiding out isn't Chinese. As improbable as that?'
'It's exactly that improbable. And you wouldn't believe how improbably large that budget would be, if there were such a budget.'
'Improbable as it is, what would happen to the contractor after he was returned to the States?'
'Whatever it would be,' Elson says, 'you'd never hear about it. Are you finished?'
Rafferty says, 'Am I ever,' and hangs up.
From the dining room, Miaow says, 'But that's what he did with your father. He gave him-'
'That's right,' Rafferty says.
Arthit says, 'I need to think about this.'
'Think about it fast,' Rose says, getting up and going into the dining room. 'The girls will be here any minute. Miaow, we need more glasses and things.'
Arthit says, 'The girls?'
'I really need those pictures, Arthit,' Rafferty says.
Arthit shakes his head as though he needs to clear it. 'What girls?'
'From my agency,' Rose says. 'At least eight more glasses, Miaow. And, Pim, could you please make some tea?'
'How come you say please to Pim but not to me?' Miaow asks, heading for the kitchen.
Rose says, 'Because I like her better.'
Miaow makes a rude noise as she leaves the room.
'I don't need a maid,' Arthit says. 'I told Poke I don't-'
'You certainly do need a maid,' Rose says. 'This place is 'man clean,' but that's not the same as clean. Why don't you hire Pim?'
'Pim, Pim, Pim,' Miaow says from the kitchen. Scarlet-faced, Pim flees the room.
Arthit says, quite loudly, 'Everybody. Stop.'
Everybody stops except Pim, who runs all the way to the kitchen. The moment stretches out, totally silent. Arthit blinks in surprise.
Rafferty says, 'What now, Arthit? Can we start again?'
'At least with the food and the glasses,' Rose says.
There's a knock at the door. Rafferty pulls out his Glock, which has been tucked into his waistband ever since he got there.
Rose says, 'What? You're going to shoot Fon?'
'You stay where you are. I'll answer the door.' Rafferty puts the gun hand behind his back and crosses the room, and he finds Arthit beside him, his own gun in hand. When they get to the door, Arthit waves Rafferty aside so he'll be right behind the door when it opens, turns sideways to hide his gun and present a smaller target, and, with a nod to Rafferty, yanks the door open.
Fon takes a surprised step back and says, 'Hi.'
Chapter 27
