“Not all,” Parker said.
“Well, the point is,” Cathman said, “Miss Shields will expect me to offer you a cold drink. We’re not equipped to do coffee here, but we have a variety of soft drinks and seltzer and so on in the refrigerator under her desk. Business meetings begin with that, she’ll expect it. What would you like? I can recommend the Saratoga water, it’s a New York State mineral water, very good.”
The local politician to the end. Parker said, “Sure, I’ll try it.”
“Pleasesit down.”
Parker sat on the side of the sofa where the light from the window would be behind him. Easier then to see Cathman’s face, harder for Cathman to see his. Meanwhile, Cathman went back to the door, opened it, murmured to Miss Shields, shut the door, and returned. “She’ll bring it, in just a moment.”
“So this is the time we talk about the weather, right?”
Cathman smiled, apparently surprising himself when he did it. “I doubt that,” he said, “though it would be usual, yes. But we won’t want to discuss Ah, Miss Shields. Thank you.”
They waited and watched her in silence as she brought in a small silver tray, on which faintly jingled two bottles of mineral water and two glasses with ice cubes. She didn’t speak, but continued her performance of being in a world where her efficiency mattered. She put the tray on the coffee table, nodded to Cathman, and left, closing the door firmly but quietly behind her.
Cathman actually wanted water; he poured himself some as he said, “Is there really any reason for this urgency?”
“No urgency,” Parker told him. “I wanted to talk to you, and I wanted to see your place.”
“And now you’ve seen it. Will you need to see it again?”
“I hope not.”
Cathman sipped his bubbly water, put the glass down, and gave Parker a curious look. “That was some sort of threat, wasn’t it? What you meant was, the only reason you’d come back here is if you intended to do me harm.”
Parker said, “Why would I want to do you harm?”
“Only if I’d done you some.” Cathman smiled. “And I’m not going to, so that’s an end to that. Mr. Parker, I do understand what sort of man you are, I really do. I knew what sort of man our late friend Marshall Howell was. I am no threat to you, nor to anybody at all except the gambling interests in New York State.”
“That’s nice,” Parker said.
“You wanted to”
“Talk to you about those gambling interests,” Parker told him, “and the people opposed to them. There’s some state legislators against it, right?”
“In a minority, I’m afraid.”
“That’s a list you’ll have.”
Cathman was startled. “You want a list of anti-gambling legislators? But, why would you want to You don’t mean to approachthem.”
“Cathman,” Parker said, “get the list.”
Cathman didn’t know what to do. He needed reassurance, but if Parker were to consult with him once, give him explanations, then Cathman would want explanations and reassurances all the time. Stop it now, and it’s dealt with.
When Cathman couldn’t stand the silence any more, he put down his glass of New York State mineral water, with a clickon the coffee table, louder than he’d intended, and said, “I’ll get But Of course, it can’t leave Well.”
Parker watched him. Finally Cathman got to his feet and hurried from the room.
There was a second door in here, narrower, in the other corner, farthest from the desk. A way out, or a bathroom? Parker rose and crossed over there, and it was a bathroom, small and efficient, with a shower. Towels were hung askew, the soap in the shower was a smallish stub, hotel shampoos were on the shelf in there; so it was used, from time to time.
As Parker headed back toward the sofa, Cathman returned, a thick manila folder in his hand. He saw Parker in motion, looked quickly at his desk, then realized Parker was coming from the other direction, and stopped worrying; about that, anyway.
When they were both seated, Cathman put the folder on his lap, rested a protective hand on it, and said, “If you could tell me what you want
“
“An anti-gambling legislator. Not from this part of the state. Short and fat. Sour expression.”
Cathman looked alert, ready to be of help. “Do you know his name?”
“You’re going to tell me,” Parker said. “He should be an obscure guy, somebody most people wouldn’t know very much.”
“Oh, I see,” Cathman said, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I was confused, I thought you meant one specific person, but you want a type,someone to match a Well, it would have to be an assemblyman, not a state senator, if you want someone obscure. There are many more assemblymen than senators.”
“How many assemblymen?”
“One hundred and fifty.”
“That’s a good herd,” Parker said. “Cut me out one. Short and fat. Sour expression. Most people don’t know him, or wouldn’t recognize him.”
“Let me see.” Cathman opened the folder, riffled through the sheets of paper in there, then found it was more comfortable to put the folder on the coffee table and bend over it. After a minute, he looked up and said, “Would New York City be all right?”
“Wouldn’t they be well known?”
“Not at all. There are sixty assemblymen from New York City alone. And assemblywomen, of course.” Cathman shrugged. “And to tell the truth,” he said, “the rural people and the people in towns are likelier to know their assemblyman than the people down in the city.”
“What have you got?”
“His name is Morton Kotkind, from Brooklyn. His district has hospitals and colleges, a lot of transients. It always has among the lowest percentage of eligible voters who actually cast the ballot. Nobody actually likesKotkind, he’s just a good obedient party man who does the job, and it’s a safe seat there, where nobody will ever notice him.”
“Sounds good.”
“He’s a lawyer, of course, they’re all lawyers. He has a practice in Brooklyn, and devotes most of his time to that, so he consistently has one of the worst absentee records in the assembly. Basically, he shows up only when the party needs his vote.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“No, I don’t have any photos here, but he’s as you described. Short and quite stout, and verysour in expression.” Cathman smiled faintly. “He’s a contrarian, which I think is the only reason he’s come out against gambling. Of course, a number of the city legislators object because the city and Long Island have been excluded as gambling locations.”
“But he’s known to be against gambling.”
“Oh, yes,” Cathman said. “His name is on all such lists. He’s spoken out against it, and he votes against it if he happens to be around.”
“You got a home address there?”
Again Cathman looked startled and worried. “You’re not going to What are you going to do?”
“Look at him,” Parker said. “Does he have letterhead stationery? Not as a lawyer, as an assemblyman.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Get me some,” Parker said. “And write down his address for me.”
Cathman dithered. He said, “Nothing’s going to
happento him, will it? I mean, the man is
inoffensive, he’s on our side, I wouldn’t want
“
Slowly, Cathman ran down. He gazed pleadingly at Parker, who sat waiting for him. There was a notepad on the coffee table, and after a while Cathman pulled it close and copied the address.
13
Parker was the first to arrive. “Lynch,” he said, and the girl in the black ball gown picked up three menus and the red leather-covered wine list and led him snaking through the mostly empty tables in the long dim room to the line of windows across the rear wall. Most of the lunchtime customers were clustered here, for the view. Parker sat with his left profile to the view, where he could still see the entrance, then looked out at what the other lunchgoers had come here to see.