“Now, now, Ms. Warshawski. You’re too hasty to react much of the time. You could do worse than listen to me.”
“Yeah, I guess I could follow the Cubs on a road trip. But you might as well spit it out now so I’ll know if I have to dodge your minions’ bullets for the rest of my life.”
He refused to let himself get ruffled. “You’ve paid a great deal of attention to my affairs recently, Ms. Warshawski. So I’ve returned the compliment and paid much attention to yours.”
“I bet my researches were a lot more exciting than yours.” I kept my hand on Peppy’s head.
“Perhaps we have different ideas of what might prove exciting. For instance, I was most intrigued to learn that you owe a balance of fifty thousand dollars on your apartment and that your mortgage payments are not easy for you to meet.”
“Oh, God, Gustav. You aren’t going to pull the old I’ll-get-the-bank-to-cut-off-your-mortgage routine, are you? That’s getting pretty boring.”
He continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Your parents are both dead, I understand. But you have a good friend who stands toward you as sort of a mother, I believe—this Dr. Charlotte Herschel. Yes?”
I tightened my fingers so strongly in Peppy’s hair that she gave a little yelp. “If anything happens to Dr. Herschel—anything—from a flat tire to a bloody nose—you will be dead within twenty-four hours. That’s a cast-iron prophecy.”
He gave his hearty chuckle. “You’re so active, Ms. Warshawski, that you imagine everyone must be as energetic as yourself No, I was more concerned about Dr. Herschel’s medical practice. Whether she would be able to keep her license.”
He waited for me to react again, but I’d managed to regain enough self-control to keep quiet. I picked up The New York Times from the little table that lay between us and flipped to the sports section. The Islanders were on a roll—how disappointing.
“You’re not curious, Ms. Warshawski?” he finally asked.
“Not especially.” I turned to a discussion of the Mets’ prospects going into training camp. “I mean, there’re so many creepy things you might do it’d be a waste of energy wondering which particular one you’ve lighted on this time.”
He put his whiskey glass down with a snap and leaned forward. Peppy growled a little in the back of her throat. I put what looked like a restraining hand on her—it’s hard to imagine a golden retriever attacking someone, but if you don’t like dogs, you might not know that.
He kept an eye on Peppy. “So you are prepared to sacrifice your home and Dr. Herschel’s career to your stubborn pride?”
“What do you want me to do?” I said irritably. “Lie on the floor and kick and scream? I’m prepared to believe you have much more in the way of power, money, whatever, than I do. You want to rub my nose in it, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to act real excited about it.”
“Don’t jump so quickly to conclusions, Ms. Warshawski,” he said plaintively. “You’re not without options. You just don’t want to hear what they are.”
“Okay.” I smiled brightly. “Tell me.”
“Get your dog to lie down first.”
I gave Peppy a hand signal and she obediently dropped to the floor, but she kept her back haunches tensed, ready to jump.
“I’m only offering possibilities. You mustn’t be so quick to react to the first one. It’s just one scenario, you see, your mortgage, Dr. Herschel’s license. There are others. You might be able to pay off that debt with enough money left to get yourself a car more suited to your personality than that old Chevy—you see, I have been doing my research. What would you drive if you had the opportunity?”
“Gosh, I don’t know, Mr. Humboldt. I haven’t thought a lot about it. Maybe I’d move up to a Buick.”
He sighed like a disappointed father. “You should listen to me seriously, young lady, or you will soon find yourself out of options.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’d like to drive a Ferrari, but Magnum’s already doing that. Maybe an Alfa … So you’ll give me my co-op and a sports car and Dr. Herschel’s license. What would you like from me as a show of gratitude for such generosity?”
He smiled: everyone can be pressured or bought. “Dr. Chigwell. A willing, hardworking man, but not, alas, of great ability. Unfortunately, to have a doctor at an industrial location does not give one access to physicians of Dr. Herschel’s caliber.”
I put the paper down and stopped petting the dog to prove I was all attention.
“He kept some notes over the years on our employees at Xerxes. Without my knowledge, of course—I can’t keep on top of all the details of an operation the size of Humboldt.”
“You and Ronald Reagan,” I murmured sympathetically.
He looked at me suspiciously, but I kept an expression of intent interest on my face.