The Erection Set

Al said, “Uh-huh,” and the tone meant he was wrapping up all the pieces into a rubber body bag so the sight or smell wouldn’t make anybody sick.

I deliberately let him hear my soft chuckle. “Clean, you computer-head,” I told him. “I earned it and I got it. Plenty more, too.”

“Dog,” he said quietly, “you were never smart enough to grab that kind of cash.”

“Let’s say there are some people more stupid than I am then.”

“What kind of people?”

“There are all kinds of stupid people.”

“Yes.” His tone was far away again and I could see him toying with a beer can, reading the fine print on the label. “There’s another thing. Cross McMillan is setting up for a proxy fight. Most of the old stockholders are dead and their heirs hold the shares. They don’t feel any old-line loyalty, so the company’s just liable to change hands in the management department. That wouldn’t be so bad, but McMillan is strictly a raider. He’ll take Barrin Industries apart block by block, pocket the proceeds and thumb his nose at the stockholders.”

“He ever make an offer to buy?”

“I understand he did some years ago but was turned down flat. Now he’ll get it without paying for it.”

“Maybe, Al.”

“He’s head of one of the biggest conglomerates already. But he hasn’t got Barrin and that’s the one he wants most. It’s the one he’ll fight hardest to get, too,” AI reminded me.

Too bad Al couldn’t see me grinning. “He wanted Mondo Beach.”

“I know. Guys like McMillan don’t like to be undercut in anything. Now he’ll be mad as hell.”

“And whom the gods would destroy,” I quoted, “they first make mad.”

“I wish I knew you better,” Al told me.

“So do I,” I said, and hung up.

I waited a few seconds with my finger on the cutoff button, then let it up and dialed Leyland Hunter. The old man said, “And how are you going to brighten the rest of the day, Mr. Kelly? You couldn’t have caused panic in the few hours since I’ve seen you.”

“Strictly business, Counselor. On the Mondo Beach property ... there’s a company called Ave Higgings, Incorporated. I’m the sole owner. It doesn’t do anything, but it’s in existence.”

“Right-o.”

“My grandfather had a second cousin a lot younger than him who wound up being a recluse in Canada. Word had it that he was gold-wealthy, but nobody knew for sure. At least he used to send some pretty damn expensive presents out. He even sent old -Cameron a racehorse once. Now, if it isn’t against your principles to lie a little, just mention the money was a certified check, the letter postmarked from Canada and Cousins Alf and Dennie will do the rest. They’ll remember the old relative and think he’s just coming through with a helping hand like he did a couple of times before when old Cameron was in a spot.”

“Lying isn’t one of my foremost capabilities. I do represent Barrin interests, you know.”

“You’re doing your job, buddy. They put the beach up for sale, set the price, now the terms of the will are being fulfilled ... first crack at the property goes to a family member. If it soothes your conscience any, tell the slobs who’s buying. If they need the money they’ll have to sell anyway.”

“Why not tell them?”

“Let’s save it for a surprise. That way McMillan will be squirming too. He’ll be all shook to know there’s money hidden on one of the relatives. Just consign the property to Ave Higgins, Inc. and I’ll get all the papers in your hands within two days. Can do?”

“You’re more fun than defending on a rape case. Yes, can do if I compromise my principles a little. By the way, who handles all your business affairs?”

“From now on you do, great Hunter. Look for a big package in the mail.”

When he said “so long” I called Western Union, sent the wire that would get his big package delivered into his hands, made one last call to Dick Lagen’s office whose secretary told me he was out at the moment, but could be reached in an hour, then left for the two-room office in the dilapidated building across town where a stringy guy in a greasy leather apron was very happy to sell me a clean .45 automatic, belt holster, a pair of extra clips and two boxes of standard Army cap and ball ammo. I checked out the action of the piece, loaded the clips, slammed one into the gun and jacked a shell into the chamber with the hammer on half cock. The stringy guy pocketed my money, nodded once and went back to his bench and began filing down the sear on a dissembled foreign weapon.

Outside there was a muted kettledrum roll of thunder and I knew it was going to rain again. I was glad I had brought my trench coat.

X

Lee and Rose were on their second round of Martinis when I walked into the Spindletop restaurant on West Forty-seventh Street. They were upstairs in the rear scratching names on the back of an envelope, arguing about one of them and crossing it off.

I pulled out a chair and said, “Cozy.”

Rose gave me a silly grin and raised her glass. “Hello, big man.”

“Nice to see you with your clothes on,” I told her.