Cold Night

'I don't think so. Her husband might. He's a budding politician, you know.' She gave a slight smile. 'He wants to be President.'

Again she laid her hand on his arm, squeezing it. 'If I want to see you again, do I wait outside your door?'

Paine laughed. 'If you want. If you can't find me, there's a fellow named Bob Petty who might know where I am.' He gave her Petty's number.

'I've got to go,' she whispered.

She slipped silently out of bed and went to the bathroom. When she came out, she was dressed.

He lay in bed, looking at her. The angle of morning sun made a partial shadow of her face.

'How did your mother die?' he asked quietly.

Her face went deeper into shadow. 'The death certificate my father bought said cardiac arrest. But she took an overdose of sleeping pills. She killed herself.'

The shadow receded; a cloud outside the window moved away from the sun. Occluded light leapt back into her face. 'I have to go,' she said.

FOURTEEN

Margie said, 'Henry Kopiak is in your office.'

'Shit,' said Paine. On his way down the hall, Jimmy Carnaseca called to him from his office, and Paine went in.

'How you doing, Jack?' Jimmy smiled. He had the box of little wooden girders out, and he was fitting one of them precisely into the growing structure on his desk.

'Any guesses?' Jimmy asked. 'You should be able to figure it out by now.'

There was an Italian architect who designed things like this, all angles. It looked a little like a temple Paine had seen once in National Geographic. It looked a little like a lot of things.

'It's an office building,' Paine said.

'Not even close,' Jimmy answered, grinning. He fit another tiny girder into its slot. 'You know, Jack,' he said, 'you still look like shit. Worse, even.'

'Thanks.'

'I still say you should do like me. What you need is more sex.'

'Don't you ever work, Jimmy?'

'All night, Jack.' He laughed, picking another tiny bit of wood from its box, examining it carefully, applying a dab of glue to it before wedging it between two struts.

Paine reached out to turn the model's box over and look at the picture, but Jimmy clamped his hand down.

'No fair, Jack,' he said.

When Paine walked into his office, Kopiak was standing with his hands behind his back, looking out the window. He had opened the blinds, but had done it without soiling his fingers with the dust.

Kopiak's briefcase stood upright next to the visitor's chair, and his raincoat was hung neatly on the hook on the back of the door.

'What can I do for you, Mr. Kopiak?' Paine asked.

Kopiak turned and frowned, then nodded. His face was smooth and full, the kind that would turn jowly without exercise. His hair was stylishly long and gray. His clothes weren't cheap but he looked like a suburban lawyer. He looked like the kind of man who didn't like dust, but didn't mind disturbing things.

'You're certainly the Jack Paine that Mary Wagner described to me,' Kopiak said. 'At least you're who you say you are.' A grim smile flirted with his face but lost out to the frown. He left the window and sat in the visitor's chair, and Paine sat behind his desk. Kopiak didn't reach for his briefcase immediately, which to Paine was a good sign.

'I don't approve of your impersonating me, Mr. Paine,' Kopiak said. The frown deepened to borderline scowl.

'I was just doing my job, Mr. Kopiak.'

'There are other ways you could have gone about it.'

'Would you have let me in there to see her?'

'No, I wouldn't have.'

'I hope you see my point, Mr. Kopiak.'

'I wonder if your employer, Mr. Barker, would see it that way.'

Paine shrugged.

'You could have hurt Ms. Wagner's case by prompting her to reveal information she had withheld from the police.'

'Aren't lawyers supposed to keep people from incriminating themselves?'

'That's not the point, Mr. Paine.'

'Did you get her out of jail?'

'Certainly I did-'

'Why don't you tell me why you came here then, Mr. Kopiak? If you wanted to slap me on the wrist about practicing law without a sheepskin, you would have called me on the phone or had me arrested. Why didn't you have me arrested?'

Kopiak glared at him.

Paine said, 'You don't like me, do you, Kopiak? I certainly don't like you.'

Kopiak took a deep breath and shook his head. He pulled his briefcase onto his lap and snapped it open. It was neat and tidy and he lifted a slim envelope out of a trimmed leather pocket and handed it over to Paine.

There was no writing on the envelope; it was uncreased and flat. The flap was tucked in and Paine pulled it open and lifted a blue rectangular check out.

'The check is endorsed to you, personally, for five thousand dollars, Mr. Paine. Mr. Barker needn't know about it. If you would prefer, we can go through the agency. It makes no difference to me.'

'What do you want for all this money, Mr. Kopiak?'

'I want the material from the folder Mary Wagner mentioned to you, the one that was in Les Paterna's desk. I found the torn pieces of the folder in Paterna's wastebasket, which means that you were there and found it empty. Someone was obviously there before you. I'd like you to find that material and return it to me.'

'Would you like to tell me what's in it?'

'No, I would not.'

Paine slipped the check back into the envelope and tucked in the flap. The envelope was creased now, and he liked that. 'You take this out to Margie Miles at the front desk, and she'll help you fill out one of our standard contracts. She'll also help you sign over the check to the Barker Agency. If you want to do that, I'll be glad to look for your material.'

Kopiak produced a business card from another leather pocket in his briefcase and handed it to Paine. 'If you find anything, call me.' He snapped his briefcase shut and got up. He walked to the door and took his raincoat off the hook and draped it over his arm.

'Good-bye, Mr. Paine,' he said, and left without looking back.

Paine pulled the phone in front of him on his bare desk, pulled out the slip of paper that said 'Izzy' on it and dialed the California telephone number.

It rang for a long time. Then someone picked up the receiver and a woman's drowsy voice said, 'What?' When Paine asked for Izzy she told him to wait. There was a long wait. Paine heard argument in the background. The phone sounded like it was picked up and then put down again. Finally, a man's voice said into it tentatively, 'Hello?'

'Izzy?' Paine asked.

'Who's this?'

'I'm calling for Lucas Druckman.'