“Hello, Captain.” I said.
“Hello, Sergeant. Got a minute?”
“Sure, Captain. Sure. My God, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” I took him back into the cubbyhole office that’s part of the shack on the front of the lot.
He sat down, still smiling, and said, “A little over thirteen years since I made my mistake, Thompson.”
“Mistake, Captain?”
“I made the mistake of trying to take the company over and run it. I made the mistake of trying to take it away from you and Sergeant Sloan.”
“I don’t know as we were running it, Captain.”
“Just mister, Thompson. Mister Driscoll. You know, Thompson, I’ve never considered myself to be a vindictive man.”
I didn’t know what he was driving at. I didn’t know why the way he was smiling should make me so uncomfortable. “What do you mean, Ca — Mr. Driscoll?”
“You boys really took me over the jumps, didn’t you?”
“You know how those things are.” “You taught me how they are. Good business you have here, Thompson.”
I shrugged. “Three lots. I make out.”
He turned and looked through my dusty window at the beat-up office building across the street. “Suppose, Thompson, a man really wanted to find out just exactly how well you’re doing. Suppose he rented desk space near a front window over there and used a mechanical counter and took the trouble to check all your traffic in and out.”
My smile felt as if I wasn’t wearing it straight. “He’d have to be... pretty curious, wouldn’t he?”
“And have a lot of time on his hands, too.”
“I... guess so.”
“Cat and mouse isn’t my game,” he said. “I’m enjoying this, I suppose, but not as much as I thought I would. So I’ll leave out the routine and cut it short. Here. This is for you. I don’t generally deliver these myself, but I made an exception in this case.”
I picked it up. It was a summons. As I stared at it blankly, he stood up and said, “We’re scheduling you at 2 p.m. tomorrow, Thompson. Bring your books and records for all of last year, the duplicate of your tax return, and you might be well-advised to bring your attorney.”
“I don’t understand,” I said in an empty way.
He placed a card on the corner of my desk. He paused in the doorway and said, “Give my regards to Arnold Sloan. I expect to see him soon.”
I picked up the card, RICHARD E. DRISCOLL. TREASURY INTELLIGENCE. FEDERAL BUILDING.
Arnie said, in a nasty way, “Look, are you just going to sit there and sigh? I put in a long day. I’m ready for the sack. If you’ve got something to spill, let’s start hearing it.”
But I still couldn’t find the place to start. So I did it another way. I took the Captain’s calling card out of my pocket and I handed it to him.
“What’s this?” he said.
I didn’t answer him. He took out his lighter. I watched his face as he read the card. I watched him real close.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
