The Wrath of Angels

‘It went down a storm. There were people asking me to run for office.’

‘Wow. Somewhere in Africa would be good. I hear Sudan needs ironing out, or maybe Somalia.’

He looked puzzled, and the smile faltered for a moment, then recovered.

‘No, here,’ he said.

‘Right. Of course.’

‘There was a reporter who came along from the Maine Sunday Telegram. They’re going to report the details of my speech on the weekend.’

‘That’s great,’ I said. If they did, the Telegram wouldn’t be getting my dollar seventy-five that Sunday. ‘Any other reporters there?’

‘Some guy from the Phoenix, but he was just hanging around to cause trouble.’

‘Asking awkward questions? Not accepting the party line?’

‘Ordinary people just don’t understand deregulation,’ said Jeff. ‘They think it involves a state of lawlessness, but it simply means allowing market forces to determine outcomes. Once government begins to interfere, those outcomes start to become unpredictable, and that’s when the trouble starts. Even light-touch regulation interferes with the natural running of the system. We just want to make sure that it runs right so everyone can benefit.’

‘So you’re the good guys?’

‘We’re the wealth generators.’

‘You’re certainly generating something, Jeff.’

Rachel intervened. ‘It’s time to go, Jeff. I think you’ve been baited long enough.’ She hugged me and kissed my cheek. ‘You’ll come see Sam in a week or two?’

‘Yes. Thanks for letting her spend the night. I appreciate it.’

‘I didn’t mean that part about you getting shot,’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘The other two maybe, but not you.’

She looked to the office window. Angel and Louis were dimly visible through the blinds. Angel raised an arm, as if thinking about waving, then thought better of it.

‘Jerks,’ Rachel said again, as she got into the car, but she was smiling as she said it. Jeff wasn’t joining her, though, not yet. Instead he was looking to the road, where a black Cadillac CTS coupe was slowing down before turning into my drive.

‘Hey, just in time,’ he said.

‘In time for what?’ I asked. Clearly, someone wasn’t being hit too hard by the recession, but it was nobody I knew.

‘There’s a man I’d like you to meet,’ said Jeff. ‘He drove up to hear my speech, and he said he might take a look at some new development up on Prouts Neck while he was in town. I told him I’d keep him company, and he should look out for my car.’

The Cadillac pulled to a gentle halt behind Jeff’s car. The man who climbed out looked a couple of years younger than Jeff and glowed with good health, and he couldn’t have smelled more of money if he was printing off bills in the back of his car. He had opted for a smart casual wardrobe: tan pants, a black roll-neck sweater, and a black mohair jacket. He was balding, but he hid it well by keeping his hair short, and he wasn’t carrying more than a couple of pounds of excess baggage around the waist. He also had the decency to apologize for driving up to my home uninvited, pointing out that the road took a sharp bend and he was concerned about causing an obstruction by leaving his car there. I told him that it was okay, even if I didn’t think it was. This guy made my skin prickle.

‘I hope I’m not intruding,’ he said. He waved at Rachel, and she waved back, but she was careful not to look at me.

‘I’d like to introduce you to someone,’ said Jeff, but he didn’t make it clear to whom he was speaking until his next statement. ‘Garrison Pryor, this is Charlie Parker.’

Pryor stretched out a hand, and after only a slight hesitation I shook it.

‘Garrison Pryor, as in Pryor Investments?’ I said.

‘I’m surprised that you’ve heard of us,’ he replied, although he didn’t sound surprised. ‘We’re not one of the big houses.’

‘I get the Wall Street Journal,’ I lied.

‘Really?’ he said. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Know thy enemy, perhaps.’

‘Excuse me?’ It was an odd thing for him to have said.

‘It’s just that Jeff has told me a little about you,’ he continued. ‘From what I could gather, you didn’t strike me as a Journal reader. Jeff thinks you may be a closet socialist.’

‘Compared to Jeff, most people are socialists.’

Pryor laughed, displaying white teeth with slightly elongated canines and sharp incisors. It was like being snarled at by a domesticated wolf.

‘How true. I’ve been very interested to make your acquaintance for some time,’ said Pryor. He maintained steady eye contact, and his smile never wavered.

‘Really?’ I said.

‘I’d read a lot about you, even before Jeff entered your realm of acquaintance. The men and women who you’ve hunted down, well, it’s just frightening that such people could have roamed free for so long. It’s quite the service that you’re doing for society.’

From where I stood, I could see Rachel. She still wasn’t looking at me, but she was biting her lower lip hard. I’d seen that expression before: it was as close as Rachel got to a display of concern in public.

I didn’t reply, so Pryor went on talking.

‘Do you know what I find most interesting about you, Mr Parker?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t.’

‘If I’m correct, when a policeman uses his gun there are committees of inquiry, and paperwork, and sometimes even court cases. But you, a private operator, seem to skate around such obstacles with ease. How do you do that?’

‘Good luck,’ I said. ‘And I only shoot the right people.’

‘Oh, I think it’s more than that. Somebody must be looking out for you.’

‘God?’

‘Perhaps, although I was thinking along more terrestrial lines.’

‘I try to keep the law on my side.’

‘That’s funny,’ said Pryor. ‘So do I, and yet I don’t believe we’re at all alike.’

Jeff, who had been smiling at the start of our conversation, wasn’t smiling any longer. He seemed to realize that this wasn’t going the way he might have hoped, whatever that was.

‘We’d better be going, Garrison,’ he said. ‘Rachel and I have to get Sam home, so if you’d like me to take a look at that development with you . . .’

‘You know, Jeff, I don’t think that will be necessary. Maybe this part of the world isn’t for me after all.’

Jeff’s face fell faster than a busted elevator. I guessed that he’d been hoping to cut himself in on the deal by acting as a go-between if Pryor started throwing money around in Maine.

‘If you’re sure,’ said Jeff.

‘I’m very sure. Goodbye, Mr Parker. I’m sorry again for the intrusion, but I’m happy to have made your acquaintance at last. I look forward to reading more about you in the future.’

‘Likewise,’ I said.

Pryor said his goodbyes to Jeff, waved again to Rachel but not to Sam, and reversed his car onto the road before heading west toward the Interstate.

‘See you, big guy,’ said Jeff to me.

As he prepared to get into his car, I leaned in close to him.

‘Jeff,’ I said softly, ‘don’t ever bring any of your friends onto my property again, not without asking me first. You understand?’

He smiled thinly, and nodded. Only Sam waved at me again as they drove away.

Angel and Louis joined me on the driveway.

‘Who was that?’ asked Angel.