Solo stared at the tool rack. "Wait. I got a good idea."
"It's about time."
He reached slowly toward the tools. " Con permiso. I take this hatchet and—"
"Stop it!"
"Okay, okay!" He froze in position. "I was gonna say, like I chop off one of my fingers. Tell him you made me do it, at gunpoint."
"You'd do that?" Of course it could be grown back, for a price.
"I just want to walk outta here, man."
Norman considered it. "Use the hammer." He pointed with the pistol. "The iron mallet there. Break your gun hand, the right one."
"I'm left-handed."
"Then I'm doing you a favor. Do the right." He'd reached for the tools with his right hand.
He slowly removed the hammer from the hook and hefted it, not looking at Norman.
"Don't even think of throwing it at me. Bullet's a lot faster." He raised his point of aim to the man's face. "Now put the mallet in your left hand and put your right hand on the anvil—"
He'd already put his right hand on the table, fingers splayed, and with his eyes closed, chopped down with the mallet. It smashed the knuckles of the first and second finger. The mallet clattered across the table, and for a moment he cradled the broken hand silently. Then he sank to the concrete floor, keening, and rolled into a ball.
Norman cringed, but kept the gun pointed at him. Then an old and remorseless feeling crawled over him. Go on. One round. Simplify your life.
The phone on his belt beeped. He stepped back into the kitchen, closing the door, keeping an eye on Solo through the window.
He clumsily extricated the phone with his left hand. " Buenas."
"Sweetheart, what's going on there?" Rory said. "I got back from lunch and there was a message from the police. We were broken into?"
"It's more complicated than that. The burglar was actually a blackmailer. He knew about Rabin."
Aurora
"Rabin?" She put two fingers over the speaking end of the wand. "Would you excuse me? This is personal."
"Of course. I can get back to you later." The man who'd been waiting for her got up and left. A local politician, she'd thought, or some kind of lawyer, holding a business card.
"It's not something we should talk about over the phone," he said.
"That's right."
"The situation's more or less under control."
"You paid?"
"Not exactly. Check our balance. I'll explain when you get home. Right now I have to fix a broken window, before the bugs get in."
"Broken ... okay, later. I'm on camera in ten minutes. Adios."
Pepe was leaning on the door. "Who was that?"
"On the phone? Norman."
"No, no. The suit who was in that chair and just now left without saying anything."
"He didn't say who he was?"
"That's why I'm asking you,Hawking. He must have walked in while I was in the john."
She waved it away. "Probably some studio guy. You ready for this?"
"I'm ready, yeah. You could use some makeup, though. You're bright pink."
"Just let me get my breath." She crossed the room and got a cup of ice water, then sat back down and tried to breathe normally. Break-in, blackmail.
"You don't look too good. Want me to get Marya and reschedule it?"
"No, look ... our house was broken into; there was a message from the police. But I talked to Norman and he says things are under control, whatever that means. A broken window, but I think the only breakable windows in the house are the stained glass ones in the living room and kitchen."
"Hope not," Pepe said. "They're beautiful."
"And irreplaceable, literally. They were by old man Charlie what's-his-name, died a couple of years ago." She massaged her temples. "I'll be all right."
Pepe checked his watch. "Why don't we go down early? Get a Coke from the machine."
"Marya says that's a bad idea. You might burp."
"So they edit it out."
"It's live,Pepe." She got up. "I'll risk it, though."
He ushered her through the door. "Burping on camera will make you seem more human."
"Oh, please." They walked down the corridor to the converted lecture hall. Just outside it, Rory stopped at the machine, slid her credit card, and got them a Coke and a root beer.
Marya was helping a cameraman arrange an improvised drape over a whiteboard, for a backdrop. They exchanged hellos.
"Look," Pepe said. "You don't need me here. Why don't I run over and see whether I can help Norm?"
Rory hesitated. "Help him?" She looked disoriented. She was always a little nervous with the cameras, even with nothing else on her mind.
"The broken window? You know, rain?"
"Oh, sure." She shook her head. " Si, por favor."
Pepe
On his way down the hall, Pepe called for a cab to meet him across the street at Burgerman's. Before leaving the air conditioning, he buzzed Norm.
It rang ten times before he answered. He was curiously hesitant; but said sure, he could use some help; come on over.
There were two cabs waiting, illegally parked on the grass strip in front of the fast-food palace. He asked them and the second cab said it was his. He gave it the Bells' address and settled back for the short ride.
This was a complicated business. He knew what role Aurora was supposed to play in the Coming, but Norman was an unknown factor. On the other hand, there was a personal side to it. Norm and Rory were more than just his friends.
Two years before, he had made a real error in judgment, and wound up deeply involved with an undergraduate who turned out to be an extremely competent and calculating bitch.
He had considered himself sophisticated; well schooled in the nuances of American society, but she was more sophisticated, and had set him up and knocked him down.
They'd had sex once, and she had pictures of it. Pictures of them doing something that was technically illegal in the state of Florida. And she just an innocent girl, ten years younger than him.
All she wanted was a passing grade. But she hadn't done any of the work.
Just an innocent girl with a hidden camera,Rory and Norm pointed out, when he confessed to them over dinner at their place. And forget about the oral sex law; the house did a quick search and found that the law had never been enforced against heterosexuals except in connection with actual child abuse. This child was nineteen, going on forty.
They got a copy of her transcript and made a few very discreet inquiries. It turned out that at least three of her high grades were gifts of love, with the help of a camera. One of the men, who had since left the university for a private firm, was eager to testify against her, before the dean, a jury, a firing squad, whatever.
Rory did some administrative shuffling and made herself the girl's advisor. Then she called her in for "counseling" and presented the evidence, and told her she could either take an F and leave the university, or go to jail for extortion. She left.
That had not just saved his academic life. Even if the girl's threats were empty, any kind of adverse publicity could have cost him his blue card. It would be hard to monitor the Coming from Cuba.
As the cab turned onto Fourteenth Avenue, he saw another cab parked in front of the Bells' house. A man in a suit, with a bandaged hand, got into it. The cab pulled away and Pepe's U-turned to take its space.