3
AT four this Friday George Smith walked along Golf Street and west across town on the cold evening pavements. The tall buildings alight, long dangling jewels. Threading through the hurrying shopping throng and river of cars. Under the dingy trellis of the elevated train, down a street of dusty book shops. And out upon a splashing fountain and the great dark oasis of winter trees in the park.
The marble lobby of The Game Club was full of hearty handshakes and members' backslaps. Lights twinkling with Christmas, the gift counter piled with white teddy bears and boxes of beribboned candies. Miss Tom-son said she loved to hug soft things and taste the sweet. And as I left number Thirty Three I said see you my apartment at seven.
Smith after a few quick sparring rounds with the instructor followed by a beginner's lesson in wrestling, retired to the smoke room where he quaffed a tall beer overlooking the darkened park. Flagging a taxi back to Merry Mansions. The doorman with a brisk salute. Handing across an envelope.
"For you sir."
"Thank you, Hugo."
Safely inside Merry Mansions. Don't like the look of this envelope. Relax. Miss Tomson will be here soon. Have another little rosner.
"Matilda."
"Good evening Mr. Smith."
"Get me a whisky. And two omelettes. Miss Tomson will be here shortly to eat with me."
"Leave the garlic out, Mr. Smith."
"Leave it in."
"If that's the way you want it."
"Just get me the drink, please."
Soon as Miss Tomson is mentioned Matilda's good natured fat frizzles. When she first saw Miss Tomson there was a half hour's heavy breathing coming from the kitchen, as I attempted to be an attentive host. Lifting the fur from Miss Tomson's shoulder. Tying up Goliath to a leg of the marble table in the hall. Then a crash from the kitchen. Matilda trampling the delfinrage. Miss Tomson looking all about saying, not bad, not bad, not bad at all, strictly not what I expected Mr. Smith. And at this cosy interval the hall table crashed with my Tang pot. Miss Tomson put her hand to her mouth. I was up and just got to the hall in time to see. Matilda was pulling a Iamb chop back into the kitchen on a string. Miss Tom-son said, Matilda just needs her legs opened.
"Here you are Mr. Smith, a big whisky."
"Thanks a lot."
"You're welcome."
Nice exchange. With the right amount of formality. Take a gulp of this corn stuff. And open up this envelope.
Dear Sir,
I am aware of the nature of your business. And perhaps it has come to your attention that you are infringing upon my own area of operations.
I should like to take this opportunity of warning you of any further encroachments. I am sure you will be guided by expedience in this matter.
I have witnessed the delivery of this letter to you by your doorman.
Naturally you know who I am.
Yours faithfully,
JJJ.
Get up and go over to the window. Witnessed delivery by your doorman. That denotes a certain sheepish vulgarity. A man over there selling roasted chestnuts. Or is this rogue renting yonder cold water flat outfitted with instruments of spying with the brass telescope on the automatic ball bearing swivel. To watch my eye-whites going brown. Gives that distinct stab of pain between the shoulder and up the keester too. Miss Tomson please come quickly. Ah, the doorman's buzzer.
"Sir, a young lady, Miss Tomson."
"Have her come up immediately."
My Christmas gift to Hugo, was snuff, which some idle jokester sent me last year. Of the menthol variety. I treat him as an equal. Not using that handy maxim a man is what he makes his dough at and alas how much. Sometimes it is a gentle gesture to remind people of their big time possibilities. Makes them like you. big time possibilities. Makes them like
"Miss Tomson, good to see you."
"What's the matter Mr. Smith you look as if you've seen a ghost."
"You're cold, Miss Tomson, do come by the fire."
"Gee what nice big logs. But aren't they scared you'll burn down the building."
"That's it, get comfy. The people upstairs have one too. Prevailed on the management. They finally allowed it, for a consideration of course."
"You could barbecue in front of that with all that nice blazing ember. Would you take me for a campfire girl, Mr. Smith."
"Ha ha, Miss Tomson. What would you like to drink."
"I could really get stupid tonight. The girl living below my apartment is just driving me nuts. Always waiting to jump me with her troubles. I'll have what you're having Mr. Smith. What troubles that girl's got. She goes out into the back garden and starts making faces at me through the window. She hired a detective to watch her husband and catch him with the huzzy. But the detective catches him with a guy. How do you like that, Mr. Smith."
"Irregular certainly."
"Crazy. Say what's got you so nervous."
"A letter, Miss Tomson."
"Not again."
"I'm afraid so."
"May I see it Mr. Smith."
"Of course."
Smith reaching for his back pocket. Too near the keester for comfort. Put things there which are upsetting and sit on them. Handing it over to her long comforting fingers. With a flick of a talon across the paper. One blond lock falls forward as she reads.
"This is a new one, Mr. Smith."
"I thought so too."
"You see anybody, Mr. Smith."
"A chestnut vendor on the corner. I suppose someone could be on a rooftop."
"Be no chestnut vendor. This guy prides himself. Sees himself as a big important operator. Coming on with the dignity. Get this encroach crap. Big bark no bite."
"I'm not particularly anxious to be barked or growled at."
"Old Goli put the wind up you didn't he, Mr. Smith, ha ha. But got to admit though this guy's approach is nicely sneaking in from die side."
"Precisely why I'm not underestimating him."
"But Mr. Smith if you want to know the truth you overestimate these things. And take it personally as well. Here now, don't you get up, let me pour you a drink.
You really look white."
"Thanks Miss Tomson, I suppose it has got under my skin."
"Mr. Smith, don't let it."
"You're right, Miss Tomson. I shouldn't let it. But it does."
"Ignore it Mr. Smith and see what develops. Soon as you show you're worried that's when they've got you."
"I do feel it's an imposition of the worst kind to involve you like this in matters which quite frankly are extremely distasteful."
You're kidding."
"I'm not."
"It's life, Mr. Smith. I mean millions are trampling and struggling towards the top, I'd quit if I didn't like it.
Anyway, you're not bad to work for. I thought working was going to kill me. Besides it's not me they're after.
It's you."
"Alas."
"But whatever you do, don't let them shove you around."
"Matilda's making us omelettes, that all right, Miss Tomson."
"Are they going to reek."
"Dear me, I hope not. I instructed her to leave out particularly strong ingredients."
"Just so I don't leave here smelling like a dago. How did the sport go."
"O sparred a few rounds. Let the instructor have a few on the button/'
"You must be tough."
"I can handle my dukes. Also took a beginner's lesson in the rudiments of wrestling, never know these days.
Some terrifying physical specimens around that wrestling room."
"Gee tell me about them Mr. Smith. I love hearing about these big tarzans, that's the way my brother's built, the one who gets his picture on the social page, he goes right out under the arms, you'd swear he had no stomach at all. Shape of a V. At home in our kitchen he'd come in without a stitch on and open up the ice box, take out the milk and drink a whole quart in one gulp. His body is really magnificent. Our parents brought us up letting us look at each other. I think that's the way it ought to be. He lifts weights. You should see him. And throws that thing they have at races, that round ball. But Mr. Smith aren't you afraid of being killed by one of these guys."