They started walking. It only took them two blocks before they found one. The First Exploitive Bank of Litz squatted smugly between a mass sex operation and a torture parlour. Its solid granite facade contrasted sharply with the glass and neon of its immediate neighbours. It seemed like a haven of conservative responsibility. As they mounted the steps that led up to the huge brass doors. Jeb Stuart Ho looked questioningly at the Minstrel Boy.
‘Why do they need such places?’
‘Banks?’
‘Yes.’
‘It gives them something to do. Them that like it.’
‘Surely, in many places, Stuff credit is given free to all people?’
They like to do things the hard way here.’
‘It gives them power over their fellows.’
‘That’s the way they like it.’
‘It seems hardly fair.’
‘People who want things fair don’t come here.’
Jeb Stuart Ho thought about it. They reached the top of the steps. The door was flanked by a squad of bank security guards armed with machine pistols and fragmentation bombs. As they walked inside, one of the guards stepped back on to a concealed foot switch, and a cluster of cameras, set high in the lofty ceiling, tracked their progress across the spacious marble interior. They joined the line in front of one of the cashiers’ windows. The presence of the heavily armed Ho sent a ripple of alarm through the other customers. From various points around the bank, more armed guards watched him intently.
The line moved slowly towards the cashier’s window. Finally it was Jeb Stuart Ho’s turn. A thin-lipped, middle-aged man in a black jacket and stiff wing collar stared nervously at him from behind the armoured glass.
‘Can I help you?’
Jeb Stuart Ho smiled politely.
‘I’d like to arrange a movement of credit.’
He indicated the Minstrel Boy.
‘I’d Like my friend here to have a temporary credit card on my account.’
The clerk peered over the top of his rimless glasses.
‘That kind of transaction is somewhat irregular.’
‘Surely it is possible?’
‘You’ll have to wait.’
Jeb Stuart Ho bowed. The clerk climbed from his stool, but then turned back to Jeb Stuart Ho.
‘I’ll need your card.’
Jeb Stuart Ho handed over the black-edged credit card. The clerk almost dropped it in fright, then collected himself and hurried away. Jeb Stuart Ho and the Minstrel Boy waited. They waited for five minutes. Jeb Stuart Ho closed his eyes. Five minutes became ten. The Minstrel Boy shifted from one foot to the other. After twelve minutes the clerk returned. He was accompanied by a more portly, more authoritarian version of himself. The portly one seemed determined not to be intimidated by the black-clad executive.
‘Is this your card, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you wish a temporary card issued to this … gentleman?’
He gestured towards the Minstrel Boy with a look of distaste. Jeb Stuart Ho nodded.
‘That is correct.’
‘You have to make a special appointment to transact that kind of business.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it is the normal procedure.’
‘I see.’
There was a pause while the two men looked at each other. Finally the portly clerk gave in.
‘If you go along to the window marked Special Appointments, you can make the arrangements.’
Jeb Stuart Ho bowed again. He and the Minstrel Boy moved along to the window marked Special Appointments. Behind it was a sour-faced woman with scraped-back grey hair. She wore a high-necked black dress with a cameo brooch at the throat. A pair of spectacles hung from her neck by a chain. She looked coldly at Jeb Stuart Ho.
‘Yes?’
Ho took a deep breath and repeated his request for the temporary card. The woman picked up his card and looked hard at it.
‘Wait a moment.’
She disappeared. They waited for another seven minutes. A grossly fat little man in a black jacket and striped trousers bustled up to them. He held Jeb Stuart Ho’s card in one hand, and thrust out the other in jovial greeting. Both hands were heavy with gold rings. He was sweating profusely despite the almost icy air conditioning. When he smiled he revealed a fortune in gold teeth.
‘Mr Ho, so sorry to keep you waiting.’
Jeb Stuart Ho ignored his hand.
‘It is Brother Ho.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘My title is Brother. Brother Ho.’
The fat man laughed nervously.
‘I’m sorry, uh, Brother. I’ve never met one of you chaps before. I’m Axelrod. I’m the president of this bank. Perhaps you’d like to step into my office.’
‘Will we achieve what we came here for?’
Axelrod beamed.
‘Of course, old boy. Won’t take but a moment.’
Jeb Stuart Ho and the Minstrel Boy followed him towards an imposing mahogany door with a frosted glass panel that carried the word President in gold letters. Once inside, Axelrod took up his position behind a huge desk. It seemed to make him look bigger. He pushed a silver box towards Ho.
‘Cigar?’
‘No, thank you.’
The Minstrel Boy grinned.
‘I’ll take one.’
Axelrod waved towards the box with ill grace. The Minstrel Boy stuck a cigar in his mouth.
‘Match?’
Axelrod scowled and picked up a silver table lighter shaped like a vulture, and hastily lit the Minstrel Boy’s cigar. Then he turned back to Jeb Stuart Ho and beamed.
‘This won’t take but a moment.’
He dropped the card into a slot on the elaborate desk console, and punched a series of buttons with a flourish of starched shirt cuff. For two minutes they all watched the unit in silence, then it gave a beep, a light came on and two cards dropped, into a tray at the bottom. Axelrod picked up Jeb Stuart Ho’s card and handed it to him with a smile.
‘Your card, Brother Ho.’
He pushed the Minstrel Boy’s card across the desk to him.
‘And yours.’
‘Thanks.’
Jeb Stuart Ho stood up and bowed. Axelrod showed them out. Slowly they walked across the steps. On the pavement the Minstrel Boy hesitated.
‘So what are you going to do now?’
‘I must complete my task.’
The Minstrel Boy looked round awkwardly.
‘Well, uh, I’m off to have me some fun. I guess I’ll see you around.’
‘How will I find you if I have need of you?’
‘The bank can trace me through the card.’
Jeb Stuart Ho bowed.
‘I am grateful for your services.’
The Minstrel Boy winked.
‘Think nothing of it, Killer.’
He turned and sauntered off down the block. Jeb Stuart Ho watched him until he turned the corner. Then he started off in the opposite direction.
His intention was to follow the distinctive lights of the Orchid House. He was certain there would be a way he could get inside and complete his mission. He hadn’t walked more than a block and a half, however, when a huge ground car pulled up beside him. It was black with a broad yellow stripe down the side. Its roof was festooned with chrome speakers, aerials and spotlights. Below the stripe were the letters LDC, the Litz Department of Correction. One of the front windows slid down and a helmeted and visored head leaned out.
‘Hey you!’
Jeb Stuart Ho stopped and turned.
‘Me?’
‘Yeah, you. Come over here. We want to talk to you.’
‘I don’t have the time, I’m afraid.’
He started to walk on. There were muffled curses from inside the car. The nearside doors burst open, and four men boiled out. They wore black uniforms and pale blue helmets with dark visors. Their pants had a yellow stripe down the sides and were tucked into high black jackboots. Heavy recoilless pistols, nightsticks, gas and fragmentation bombs hung from their belts. On their helmets and shoulders were the insignia of the LDC.