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“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Very, but I’m serious. You must not tell anyone.”
“Relax.” Green grinned. “Now, what is the message you’ve been sent to deliver?”
“I received a call this afternoon from Mr. Garret.”
“Don’t tell me that little fucker is trying to wiggle out of the deal?”
“It’s interesting you should put it that way, because if I didn’t know better, I would say that is exactly what he is trying to do.”
Green’s tanned face slowly turned toward Speyer. His eyes narrowed and he asked, “What in the hell did he say? I want to hear it word for word.”
“Supposedly, the person who was hired
to do the job has been captured.”
“What?”
“The man who Vasili hired was caught. The Americans have him in custody. There was a press conference this afternoon.” Speyer knew that Green was hearing this for the first time. The man never watched TV and left the Internet up to his assistants.
“How is that possible? Vasili told me himself that it was being taken care of.”
“Obviously he was premature in his promise.”
Green stood and began waving his hands. “Stop…stop. Girls, take a break. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He grabbed the bottle of wine and said to Speyer, “Follow me.”
They went out into the library and closed the double doors. Green set the bottle of Screaming Eagle on the fireplace mantle next to the pool table. A large portrait of none other than Green himself dominated the wall above the mantel.
Speyer stood on the other side of the pool table and looked at Green next to his portrait. The double image spoke volumes of the man and his ego. “As I’m sure you can imagine, Mr. Garret was extremely upset.”
“When isn’t that little fucker upset? Have you ever met a more irritating person in all your life?”
Speyer decided it was better to not answer the question. “He has a point this time.”
“I’m beginning to question your wisdom. You were the one who advised me to do this. That’s what I pay you to do. You said it would be a good return on my investment.”
It was almost impossible for his clients to surprise him. He’d seen it all. Their selective memory, their ability to rationalize or simply forget every bad decision or deed they’d ever committed, was endless, while their capacity to fixate or create blame elsewhere was eternal. “Cy, before we go any further, I want to make it very clear that you brought this proposal to my attention. You expressed your desire to proceed from the very beginning and you never vacillated. You wanted to do this. I merely supported you.”
Green stared at him for a moment and decided to change the subject. “I’ll tell you what pisses me off. I’ve already spent millions of dollars on this. I’ve leveraged some of my most important contacts, I’ve risked a lot…and what have they done?”
Speyer shrugged.
“They haven’t done shit. Where’s my fucking pardon?”
“They always said it wouldn’t happen until the last minute.”
“What are they waiting for? There isn’t much time left.”
“I’ve told you it would likely take place this Saturday.”
Green began pacing in front of the fireplace. “Are we sure the Americans have the right guy?”
“I have no way of knowing. Plus I have no idea who the right guy is.”
“Yeah,” Green said as if he had figured something out. “Vasili is the only one who knows. Have you called Vasili?”
“No.” Speyer did not like dealing with the Russian mobster directly. Not if he could avoid it.
