“Is that the one they planted at Brookhaven?"
Huntley’s eyes narrowed. His features formed a look of sharp suspicion. His voice was clipped and hard when he spoke. “How did you know about that?” he asked tensely.
“You told me. Don’t you remember?”
“I did?“ Oh, of course I did.” He was abashed. “But it was only supposed to be a for-instance.” He pouted.
“All right. All right,” Archie soothed him. “So, for instance, is this cat the one who's supposed to make the contact for the Beaumarchais papers?"
“We’re pretty sure he is. But I really shouldn’t even be discussing it with you. It’s CIA business.”
“If you didn’t want to discuss it with me, then why have you been calling me all day? That was you who called half a dozen times, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Huntley admitted. “It was me. I just wanted to find out if you’d gotten a line on the girl that was with Beaumarchais when he caught it. So now I know. And I'd advise you to quit meddling any more. This is CIA business.”
“But you made it my business, too,” Archie protested. “You told me to take Beaumarchais’ wallet and sneak out of the place. I could get in a lot of trouble because of that!"
“The CIA never heard of you,” Huntley told him frostily. “Personally, though, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re a very obliging kid. A good-looking kid like you must go over big with the girls, hey? Got any numbers you’d like to share?"
“I’m a virgin,” Archie told him truthfully.
“Well, if you’re going to be snotty, forget it. You wise kids are all the same. Well, you won’t be young forever.” He got to his feet and started for the door. “It’s a lot of money,” he muttered as he went. “I sure hope that Vito isn’t some kind of con artist or something.”
Archie followed him out. The men were still crowding around Vito. Archie pushed through the crowd, miffed at Vito, who, after all, had never even really been introduced to him, using the nebulous contact to crash his mother's party and promote his nefarious business. Archie had decided that enough was enough and he was going to put a stop to it.
But just as he was reaching out to tap Vito on the shoulder, Archie found himself face to face with Professor Albert Stynestein, his father. “Archie, my boy!” the world-renowned genius smiled with pleasure.
“Hello, sir. How are you?” Archie carefully refrained from calling him “Dad” or “Pop” or anything else which might allude to their relationship. He was conditioned to maintain the secret without resentment.
“Remarkable fellow.” Professor Stynestein nodded towards Vito. “Understand he’s a friend of yours.”
“So I’m learning,” Archie said grimly.
“Tell me, my boy.” The professor lowered his voice. “Have you ever met any of the young ladies he’s discussing so graphically?"
“One,” Archie admitted.
“Ah!” The professor winked. “A chip off the old block.”
“An accidental chip,” Archie reminded him.
“Archie, that was unkind.”
“Sorry, sir. No offense meant, really. I’m just a bit bugged tonight.”
“And none taken, my boy.” The professor ran his fingers over his mane of unruly gray hair. “However, I am intrigued by what he’s been proposing.”
“Just what has he been proposing?” Archie asked.
“A little get-together later on where some of the gentlemen present will be introduced to some of his young ladies. I think I'll go along. Out of curiosity, you understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” Archie assured him. “But you might bear in mind what you taught me, sir: One of the first rules of empirical science is that one must learn from one’s mistakes. And one should take measures to avoid repeating them. Dig?”
“Yes, Archie. I ‘dig’. How could I help it when my mistakes keep popping up to remind me?”
“Don’t be bitter,” Archie cautioned him. “Some mistakes don’t turn out so badly.”
“In your case, I’d say the mistake turned out very well,” Professor Stynestein agreed fondly. “Perhaps that's why I don’t really mind chancing a repetition of it.”
“But one of the elements can’t possibly be duplicated.” Archie nodded pointedly towards Carlotta across the mom.
“How true,” Stynestein sighed. "I'm glad to see that you recognize that, my boy. I, myself, never lose sight of it.” He nodded to Archie and crossed over to Carlotta. Her face lit up with genuine fondness as he spoke to her.
Archie smiled approvingly to himself and turned back to Vito. This time his hand closed firmly over the padding on the little man’s shoulder. Vito turned and looked up at Archie.
“Whaddaya want, kid?” he asked, a little annoyed.
“I’d like to see you alone for a minute,” Archie told him.
“What for? Who are you? Whaddaya want, anyway? Can’t ya see I’m busy, kid?”
“I’m Archie Jones. You remember, your old friend, your bosom buddy who invited you to this bash.”
“Oh. Sure. Excuse me, fellas.” Vito withdrew from the circle of men clustered around him and followed Archie into the library.
“You told Lester you had to see me,” Archie reminded him when they were alone.
“Lester?”
“The butler.”
“Oh, yeah. The stuck-up guy in the monkey suit. I thought I was gonna have to belt him before he let me in.”
“What did you want to see me about?”
“We got a mutual friend. Ya called her today for some info about a broad named Dixie Keller. Like you wanna talk to her about something.”
Archie started to say that he hadn’t called, but he caught himself. Of course Helen Giammori couldn’t have told Vito about his having been in the closet. But then why had she mentioned any contact with him at all to the pint-sized procurer? The answer, Archie realized, was that she was in love with Vito and it was her way of warning him without telling the truth. But what was Vito’s angle in coming here?
“I'd like to see Dixie Keller,” Archie admitted. “I was thinking of dropping by her pad.” He made it casual and left it hanging.
“Dat wouldn’t be healthy,” Vito told him. “She’s got friends are partic’lar about who comes calling.”
So Vito had fixed Dixie up with some muscle. Archie filed the fact in the back of his mind. “I don’t see why her friends should get huffy," he told Vito. “I’m a friend of hers, too."
“Ya met her once,” Vito said flatly. “An’ there was some blood spilled dat time. So let’s not kid each other. You try to see Dixie on yer own, yer gonna get creamed. On the other hand, I got a little influence. Dat’s why I come to see ya. I might do ya a favor and arrange a meeting—if de price is right.”
“What’s the right price?” Archie asked.
“One G. An’ dat’s cheap. I was gonna ask more, but I done myself so much good here tonight I decided to go easy on ya.”
"I’ll let you know,” Archie decided. “How do I contact ou?"
“Call Helen. She’ll putcha in touch.”
“Will do.” Archie saw him to the door of the library. “Are you leaving now?” he asked hopefully.
“You kiddin’? It’s shapin’ up like gangbusters in dere. Why should I blow? ”
“I can think of a dozen good reasons, but skip it,” Archie sighed. “just take it easy, will you? Those are my mother’s friends you’re hustling.”
“You mama sure has a swingin’ bunch of friends,” Vito replied with a wink as he exited.
The same, Archie reflected a few minutes later, couldn’t be said of his stepfather. The men congregated in the other wing of the house were anything but “swingers.” They were a quiet group, well-groomed, wary of one another, on the whole much older than Carlotta’s guests, top financiers with poker faces come to the lair of the Wolf of Wall Street to play the game of big business with the million-dollar chips they controlled.