"I didn't mean to…"
"Fine, leave it at that," she said. "Let's just go."
"Karen, I wasn't trying to hurt you..
"I mean it, John, I will not tolerate it. Next time I'll take your head off."
"Oh, fuck it," he said, leading her out the door and on the way to the party at the Marriott.
28
Becker followed Karen across the lobby of the Marriott, feeling like a recalcitrant dog on its owner's leash. They had driven to Stamford in complete silence, each of them nursing a different account of things, each of them too angry to sue for peace. For Becker, the final straw had been Karen's defense of Stanley as a "gentle man" who had done no one any wrong. His sense of the loss of Karen's love sickened him, eviscerated him, and left him feeling as lost and hopeless as he had been as a child when his parents-those mysterious, whimsical, vindictive demigods of his youth-had locked him in the darkened cellar to await, or recover from, his punishment. His response then, his ultimate defense and salvation from an inexplicable cycle of torture and caress, had been ultimately to turn to rage, and he felt it welling up in him now to shield him once more from a pain he could neither stop nor avoid.
"And they told me this was a quality place," Tee's voice boomed out across the lobby.
Becker came out of his funk to see his friend lumbering toward him, a guarded smile on his face. The two men had not seen each other since the evening Tee had tried to kill McNeil. Tee was uncertain of his welcome.
"What are you doing here?" Becker asked.
"I heard there was a party. Look, I've got a tie on and everything."
"I didn't know you were such a good friend of Kom's.
"I didn't either. But when Karen called and asked me to come, I figured, they, free eats."
"Karen called?"
"Yeah. I guess she knew it wouldn't be any kind of party without me. I have that reputation, you know."
"I hadn't heard."
"Oh, yeah." Tee crossed his arms across his chest, nodding awkwardly.
"Oh, yeah." They stood for a moment in silence, each looking for the words that would dispel the embarrassment. Becker pretended to scrutinize the lobby as if committing it to memory. He watched Karen continue on her way to the elevator bank with what he was certain was a familiarity with the terrain. Tee examined his shoes.
"So, how you doing?" Becker asked at length. The elevator swallowed Karen and she was gone.
"Great… great."
"Everything okay?"
"Terrific… McNeil resigned, by the way."
"Good move on his part."
"First wise thing he ever did."
Becker hesitated. "Ginny okay?"
"Yeah, she's uh… We talked it all out, you know. Her and me and Marge."
"Marge is all right with everything too?"
"Marge is a wonder. She's about eight times as strong as I am, I don't know what I'd do without her."
Becker nodded. "She's a good woman."
"Now here's the strange thing. They don't write songs about how a good woman is hard to find. Do you know why that is?"
"I'll bet you can tell me."
"I can, fortunately. It's because it's not true. A good woman is easy to find. There are a lot of them. It's us men who are the shit sticks."
"Couldn't agree more-allowing for certain exceptions."
"Well, allowing for that, sure." Tee dropped his voice into a confessional tone. Becker shifted uneasily in anticipation. "Listen, I just want to say…"
"I know," said Becker. He glanced at Tee; then both men quickly looked away.
"If you hadn't..
Hey.
"I was… I was..
"I would have been the same way," Becker said.
Kom and Tovah entered the lobby, Tovah clinging to his arm like a newlywed.
"Even so… and you wouldn't. Not you."
Becker snorted. His gaze was fixed on Kom with a lethal intensity.
"You'd be in control," Tee said. He noticed the direction of Becker's stare and turned to look. "The birthday boy himself. Christ, how does that little wart merit a woman like that?"
"I ask myself that question," Becker muttered.
"She looks like she just got laid," Tee said. "Can't hide that look with all the green eyeshadow in the world."
Kom turned and saw Becker and Tee and raised a hand in greeting, his face lighting with boyish pleasure at seeing his heroes. If Tovah saw them, she seemed not to take it in.
Becker took one step in Kom's direction, then stopped. Tee thought he looked like a cat about to pounce.
"See you upstairs," Kom said gaily, waving again. He led Tovah toward the elevators.
"Do you suppose he's got a shlong that reaches to his ankles?" Tee asked. "I don't know how else to explain his appeal to women."
"Shut up," Becker snapped.
"It can't be his looks, God knows. It'd be like fucking the dough boy.
Must be hung like a mule."
Becker swiveled and thrust two fingers into the soft flesh under Tee's jaw. The bigger man choked and gasped.
"I said shut up," Becker hissed.
At the elevator, Tovah and Kom had a brief conference and Tovah turned to visit the rest room while Kom stepped into the cage by himself.
Becker released Tee and sprinted across the lobby. He managed to thrust a hand between the doors just as they closed. Obediently, they opened again and Becker stepped into the elevator with Kom.
"Hi," Kom said cheerfully. "How you doing?" He held out his hand to shake. Becker punched the button for the top floor, then took Kom's hand as the doors sighed shut. He pressed his forearm against the man's throat and pinned him to the wall. When Kom started to protest, Becker jabbed him in the solar plexus with three rigid fingers.
His diaphragm suddenly paralyzed, unable to draw a breath, his throat closing off, Kom gasped and sputtered, pinioned by Becker's forearm like a fish on a line. Becker punched the emergency button and the elevator jerked to a Stop. Becker leaned into Kom, his face only inches away. "Do I have your attention?" he asked.
Kom's eyes widened and his lips fluttered but he emitted only a strangled sound.
"If I have your attention, close your mouth," Becker said. Kom snapped his mouth shut but his hands clawed at Becker's forearm. Becker slapped him in the face.
"Keep your hands down, you're not dying. You're just uncomfortable,"
To Becker's astonishment, Kom tried to hit him back, landing a powerless blow without force or leverage against Becker's ribs. Becker laughed, a quick, amazed, but niirthless sound, then hit Kom in the mouth with a six-inch-long jab that drove the man's head against the wall. His lip began to bleed almost immediately. Still blinking from the shock of the blow, Kom surprisingly struck back again, slapping him ineffectually on the ear. Becker hit him solidly once more, this time on the nose. Tears sprang to Kom's eyes and blood flowed from his nose.
"This isn't a sparring match, Stanley, but if you keep struggling instead of listening, I'm going to make you wish you hadn't. Now just hold still and listen, this message is going to be brief." The alarm bell sounded insistently overhead as Kom ceased to struggle. Tears continued to flow as a result of the blow to the nose, and the first drops of blood from his lips cleared his chin and dripped onto Becker's forearm.
"I know about you," Becker said. "I know about your women, I know how you sneak out at night." Becker watched his eyes, seeing how Kom reacted to each statement. "I know that was you in the Caprice. I know that was how you got around to your women. I know what you've done and what you're up to, Kom. But you're not going to get away with it. This time you picked the wrong woman. If you ever go anywhere near Karen again, I'll kill you, I promise you that."
Becker knew he had gone wrong. In that instant the expression in Kom's face had changed. His eyes had altered in some indefinable way and it was as if another person were looking out at Becker now, a confident, assured, and deeply malevolent presence, not the stunned, hurt, and frightened man he had been just moments earlier. The eyes were mocking Becker now. "You might as well kill me now," Kom said.