“Okay, Sam. Fair enough.”
“Good.”
Bloch chuckled to himself: the stupid fuck thought he’d gotten his way. He kept his eyes on the cockroach, still moving slowly, and said congenially, “I like the idea of this diamond, Lieutenant.”
“I’m glad you do,” Ryder replied, obviously relieved. It was a crazy idea, that was for sure, but Bloch liked crazy ideas. No risk, no gain.
“I think you’re right: it could solve your problems and mine. So I wouldn’t screw up this opportunity if I were you, Lieutenant.”
“I have no intention of screwing up anything. Give me some time, Sergeant. I have no proof this diamond even exists, much less where it is. And-for the record-I’m a United States senator.”
Ryder knew who had the upper hand, but that didn’t stop him from using that cold, superior tone Bloch had always hated. It emphasized the class gulf between them. Ryder had everything: money, looks, power, reputation. But in Phil Bloch’s opinion, that didn’t change a damn thing. Maybe in other people’s eyes it did, but not in his. If Ryder had a reason to act superior, maybe Bloch wouldn’t have minded so much. But as far as he was concerned, Samuel Ryder, Jr., didn’t amount to a pile of cold shit.
“Yeah, you’re a senator all right,” the sergeant said, “for the time being.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The superior tone had vanished, and the awe and dread that had always been there underneath surfaced. Now that’s the real Sammy Ryder, Bloch thought. No backbone. It made him easier to manipulate than he liked to think. Bloch had gotten to be a master sergeant-had stayed alive-because he knew how to read people. He’d been a career military man, but from the beginning he’d planned for this day. Now that he was retired, he was finally able to set up a military camp the way he thought one ought to be set up. He’d already begun training and dispatching mercenaries. Ryder knew about that. But the good senator didn’t know about the arms dealing. During his army years, Bloch had managed to pull together a small, illegal arsenal of weapons and ammunition, which he was now using as his nest egg. If Sammy found out about that part of his business, he’d start screaming about scruples and the law and all that bullshit, mostly because he’d be scared shitless he’d get caught. Bloch didn’t want to have to listen to any more whining. The arsenal was only the beginning. He had bigger and better plans for the future. And he’d get there, no question about that. He just had to watch for opportunities, know how to capitalize on them-and know just when to turn the screws on “friends” in high places.
“Just stating the facts,” Bloch said, scratching the back of his neck. Damned bugs. He’d never get used to them. “You ain’t going to be a senator forever, Sam. Thinking about the White House one of these days, aren’t you? Be interesting, won’t it, having an ol’ skeleton like me rattling around in one of your closets. Better deal with me straight now, don’t you think?”
“I’m doing the best I can!”
“That’s what I like to hear. So tell me.” Bloch leaned back as the cockroach veered suddenly and started plodding across the huge, round braided rug toward the rolltop desk. “Is the Stein woman still on your ass?”
There was a shocked, horrified silence on the other end. No ragged breathing, no cry of outrage or despair, and no-thank God-whining. Bloch waited patiently, his eyes on the cockroach. It had slowed up, as if it knew where it was heading, but it didn’t change course, incapable, apparently, of doing anything now but move ahead.
“You know about her?”
“Sure, Sam.”
“But how? I never mentioned anything to you-or to Raymond. Was it de Geer? I can’t believe-”
“Hell, no, it wasn’t that damned Dutchman. I ain’t heard shit out of him since he left for New York. He’s an independent sonofabitch. I hope to hell this whole thing’s not riding on him. No, Sam, I heard about the Stein woman and her little visit to you from some people I have in Washington who let me know what’s going on. She spotted de Geer, recognized him, wants his ass for some crap that went on forty years ago. She’s been making a pain in the ass of herself. It got back to me.”
“You’ve got spies in my office?” Ryder’s voice squeaked with fear and indignation. “Damn it, Sergeant, I won’t stand for this! It’s bad enough you’re holed up in my fishing camp like a pack of rats, jeopardizing me and everything I and my family stand for, bad enough you send de Geer to me in the first place as your ‘intermediary’ to squeeze me dry when all I’ve ever done is cooperate with you, do everything in my power to accommodate you, but spies I will not tolerate!”
“Catch your breath and save the speech, Sammy. Way I see it, you don’t have much say-so about what I do or what I don’t do. Answer the question: is she or isn’t she still on your ass?”
Ryder was silent, and Bloch had no trouble envisioning Mr. Golden Boy weighing all his options. He always took his sweet time. Even in combat, no one could rush Sam Ryder when he had to make up his mind. So long as he saved his own butt, he didn’t worry about any other consequences of his stalling.
Finally, he said cautiously, “She thinks I’m going to help her. I don’t know what she’ll do when she finds out I have no intention of doing so. If I turn in de Geer-well, it’s unthinkable. At the moment all she can do is make accusations. She has no proof of a direct connection between me and de Geer. However, if she goes to the press with this, and they decide to investigate, anything could happen. They could even end up on your doorstep, Sergeant. Ryder hesitated. “I’m not sure it’s wise to say where you are-for your sake.”
“Oh, hell, Sammy, don’t deny me my fun. Wouldn’t it be a sight?” Bloch snorted. “A bunch of reporters’ coffins all lined up, ready to go in the ground, for messing with old Phil Bloch. Look, I want you to let me worry about Rachel Stein.”
“She’s not your problem, Sergeant. Don’t get involved. Let me handle things on this end.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll just keep working my ass off down here and hoping you don’t fuck up. Biggest uncut diamond in the world, you say? Shit-fire, sure, I’ll let you handle it.” Bloch dropped the mock-amiable tone as he sat forward. “Listen, you goddamn asshole, don’t you tell me what the fuck to do. You’re the one who got his stupid butt in a sling, not me. If you weren’t such a stupid fuckup to begin with, you wouldn’t have to worry about guys like me.”
Ryder didn’t say a word.
“Got that, Senator?”
“I should hang up,” Ryder said stiffly.
“Yeah, but you won’t. Not until you tell me what you’re doing to get hold of the diamond.”
“Sergeant, one day-”
“One day you’re going to see me in hell, but that’s about all, Lieutenant. Talk.”
“You leave me no choice.”
“That’s the whole idea, Sammy.”
When Ryder finished, Bloch hung up and leaned back, thinking. He had a few men he could trust. They might not be ready to die for him yet, but they’d do a job or two. He called them in.
The cockroach had made it to the foot of his chair. Bloch sighed at the inevitability of it all. You wait, you’re patient, you act when the situation demands, and everything just works out.
He bent down, picked up the cockroach, and squeezed.
Five
R achel Stein arrived at Lincoln Center early and waited in the lobby, staring outside at the dusting of snow on the plaza and the glittering holiday lights. She hadn’t seen snow in years. It brought back the past, and she remembered prowling the streets of Amsterdam with her brothers and sisters and cousins, all gone now, all dead. She’d felt so safe there, before the war. Jewish refugees from Germany and the east had begun to flood in, but they’d all told themselves persecution couldn’t happen here, not in Amsterdam. Sometimes if she let her mind drift, she could hear the laughter of all those she’d loved and see their smiles, so bright, so innocent, and the other sounds and images wouldn’t invade, the cries, the prayers, the skeletons. Abraham said he’d blocked out everything. He never cast his mind back prior to the moment he’d planted his two worn shoes on American soil, ready to work hard, making a success of himself. He couldn’t even speak Dutch anymore; he’d forgotten it completely. He said he wanted other people to remember, but not himself.