Not a word had been spoken during the almost ritualistic transfer, but as the big man made a movement to rise Walter Stewart raised a hand.
“One moment,” he said. His eyes followed the movement of his hands on the desk top as they faced two folders together on the blotter. He kept his eyes on the folders as he continued. “I find that I shan't need the service any longer.” He forced himself to look across the desk.
“Sorry to hear it, Mr. Stewart.” There was no change, of expression on the heavy features; in the quiet office the voice was a rolling bass, ruggedly deep. “We're a little bit proud of our service. Is it something specific?”
“Not at all,” Walter Stewart said. He said it hastily. “It's the fact rather that circumstances have changed-” He paused; he didn't like the sound of the phrase. He tried again. “There eventually comes a time when it becomes necessary to reassess a given situation.”
“In other words, you feel you've outgrown us, Mr. Stewart.”
Walter Stewart restrained the impulsive reply on the tip of his tongue. He felt warmth invading his features, but he made himself speak calmly. “Such a statement implies ingratitude on my part. I neither feel nor wish to be made to feel ungrateful.”
“Look at it from our point of view.” The heavy voice rolled over Walter Stewart as the big man leaned back in his chair and ran his eye appraisingly from the comfortably furnished office in which they sat on out to the spacious exterior. “I've been making these little visits to you for about four years now, Mr. Stewart. Not always to this address; three different addresses, I believe. Each in turn a little more substantial, a little more fashionable. You've prospered; you've moved on and up. Do you remember the first address, Mr. Stewart?”
Walter Stewart did remember; he sat, silent. The big man waved a negligent hand about him. “I personally much prefer this address, and the circumstances it represents. I think you do, too. My associates and I like to feel that our service was of some material help to you in attaining the address and circumstances. You know the expense involved in maintaining our service; it is an expense which we can support only by a firm, equitable arrangement with our clients. You follow me, Mr. Stewart?”
Walter Stewart circled dry lips with his tongue. “I have always felt our arrangement to be equitable.”
“Exactly,” the heavy voice said, and waited. Walter Stewart sought for words. He was clever with words, but he could find none at the moment to avoid the direct question he had previously side-stepped. Despite himself his voice sharpened. “Do you take the attitude then that this arrangement is permanent?”
“A matter of terminology. I myself prefer the word 'Irrevocable'.”
“I refuse to concede-” Walter Stewart broke off suddenly. His blunt fingers drummed rapidly on the desk top. He looked up in sudden alarm as the big man rose, but there was a smile on the moon face. Or it could have been a smile except for the scar.
“You'll excuse me, I'm sure, Mr. Stewart. I have another appointment. I'd like to leave you with this thought. My associates and I dislike sounding arbitrary, but we feel that over the years our relationship has developed into something mutually profitable. We wouldn't like to see the status quo disturbed. We really wouldn't, believe me.” Thick fingers flirted with the too-wide brim of the panama as he settled it more firmly on his head. “See you next month, Mr. Stewart. As usual. Unless you call. And if I were you, I wouldn't call. Good night.”
Walter Stewart sat and listened to the tread of the heavy footsteps, cut off by the sound of the closing door. He drew a long breath, and stared down unseeingly at the blotter on his desk.
So now you know, Stewart. Now you know.
He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes, then leaned forward as he forced himself to open them again. What are you worried about? he asked himself impatiently. Nothing has changed. Not one single thing has changed.
Blackmail. He rolled it around on his tongue. He shrugged; sticks and stones may break your bones, Stewart, but names will never hurt you. You may be tied to the railroad track, but as the man very carefully pointed out you like the way you're living, too.
There's no difference, except that now you know that you bought the whirlwind.
And haven't you really always known?
Johnny sat bolt upright on the bed, startled from sleep by a thumping on his chest. His instinctively quick movement dislodged the scampering Sassy, who bounded down to the end of the bed and turned to wrinkle her nose at him disapprovingly. “You got to cut that out, baby doll; I might swing first and look later.”
He stretched and looked at the late afternoon sunlight beneath the three-quarters-drawn shade. Might as well get up and eat. He lay back and stared up at the ceiling. He'd get going in a minute; shower first, shave…
Sassy boarded his right leg, walked smoothly up the length of his body, and resettled herself on his chest, face-to-face. He looked down at the blue eyes and the serious little face. “You've sure taken over this quarter-deck, white stuff. Something tells me I've gone under new management.”
The kitten's eyes were tightly closed as she licked diligently at a paw; Johnny snapped his fingers at her, but she paid no attention. When she was satisfied with the condition of the paw she lifted her head and looked at him again. This time when he snapped she grabbed for the fingers. Mildly curious, he extended his arm behind the small head and snapped the fingers again. She was watching his face and made no movement.
Johnny began to get a feeling. “You little sinner, you're deaf.” He sat up halfway, holding her on his chest, experimenting. When she could see the snapping fingers Sassy went for them. When she couldn't there was no reaction.
He lifted her free from his chest at the expense of some skin as her claws hooked in instinctively. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and put the kitten on the floor between his feet, faced away from him; the first four or five times he removed his hand from the small body she turned immediately to see what new game they were playing. He waited patiently until she wearied of turning and lay quietly with only the switching tail in motion. When he was sure she couldn't see him he picked up a shoe and let it fall heavily, and Sassy bounded up and switched ends in mid-air, coming down facing him.
“You just kiddin' around with me, sugarpuss? You heard that, all right. Or wait a minute. Do you hear it or do you get the vibration from the floor in your paws?”
He faced her about again, and when she was quiet clapped his hands together with a report that surprised even himself. The kitten never even quivered. He lifted a foot and jammed his bare heel down hard, and although the noise was only a light thud Sassy again performed her switched-ends ballet.
No doubt about it-the kitten was deaf. She was extremely sensitive to all vibrations-and even to air currents, he could see now that he was watching her closely. The small. questing nose was rarely still, and a breeze barely light enough to flutter a curtain's gauze at the window was sufficient to bring her head around inquiringly.
He reached down and picked her up again and put her back on his chest as he stretched out. “All right, baby doll. It's tough, but if you never had it you don't miss it. And nature's law of compensation seems to have you doing all right for yourself.”