"What are you bringing?"
"Always so flippant, so self-controlled." The Engineer whipped the mouse, searching through Thorpe's files. "The only time I heard you lose your cool was after you had left the safe house-you were getting medical attention, if I remember correctly. You sounded scared. I bet you're scared now… probably telling yourself to hang on, stay strong, being a regular cheerleader for the home team." He glanced at Thorpe, then back at the screen. "Three bank accounts. What are the passwords?" He typed as Thorpe told him, clucked with disappointment a few moments later. "There's not nearly enough here to retire on, Frank. At this rate, you're going to be collecting aluminum cans while you lug around your prostate." He turned his head. "Where's the rest of it?"
"I had some miscalculations myself."
"I don't believe you."
Thorpe hesitated, thinking, but not taking too long, just maybe long enough to indicate that he was arguing with himself and that the Engineer had won. "Sorry, other than a storage locker full of cash and bricks of cocaine, I'm flat broke."
The Engineer watched Thorpe, then finally shut the computer down and handed it to Gregor. "I'll examine this at my leisure." He sat down across from Thorpe again. "Where exactly is this storage locker of yours?"
"You working for the IRS now?" Thorpe stretched, used the opportunity to glance out the window. Late evening now, the courtyard empty, the sound of stereos and TVs playing in the distance. He hoped Claire wasn't at home.
The Engineer smiled. "She's not here, if you're interested."
"Who?" Thorpe didn't turn away from the Engineer's smile, but he felt the blow. A light blow, a love tap, but it brought the fear back, worse than before.
"Claire. Lovely woman. A little mature for my tastes, but feisty."
"My neighbor?"
"Oh, more than your neighbor, much more, if my information is correct. Mrs. Kinsley and I had a nice chat this afternoon at the park. She's the one who let me in the gate. Made me some wretched tea while I waited for you. Sweet old lady, but her kitchen needs a good scrubbing. They get old, they lose their sense of smell. I was about to cancel her ticket, when she got a phone call and had to dash. Mrs. Kinsley says you and Claire have the look. You know the look, Frank. Mrs. Kinsley got all warm and fuzzy when she talked about the two of you, said she was eighty-three years old but that she still remembered that look."
"I threw a fuck into Claire once or twice. You want to make something of that, go ahead."
"That's rather unchivalrous of you. I met Claire this morning, showed her your photograph. She said you looked familiar. That's all, familiar. Then she told me you had moved away, moved to Los Alamitos because it had better freeway access. Wasn't that wonderful? It's the details that sell a lie. Having a woman willing to lie for you is one thing, but a woman who lies for you well, oh my, Frank… you truly are a lucky man."
Thorpe shrugged. The Engineer's indolent gaze was eating a hole in him.
"Here's my dilemma," said the Engineer. "I know you can be useful, and I dearly want your goods, but on the other hand, I'm still upset with you for that business with Kimberly. I can be petty and vindictive. I'm working on it, but I want you to be aware of my failings."
"Maybe you can get some kind of therapy."
"I did a seminar for a foreign security agency several years ago." The Engineer tugged at his socks, stood up. "I tried to impress upon them that torture, physical torture, as a means of extracting information is very inefficient. When the information is needed fast, it's even more so. By contrast, my methods never fail. Never, Frank, not once. The head of security listened, but I'm not sure he truly understood."
Thorpe nodded. He had no idea what Claire's teaching schedule was.
"Imagine this scenario. I want your cooperation, but you resist. Now, I can have Gregor start snapping your fingers and toes, but there's a problem with that. At a certain point, when the pain becomes too severe, you pass out." The Engineer paced back and forth. "So all you have to do is tough it out, knowing if I go too far, you're unconscious. Even if you do talk, how can I be sure you're telling me the truth?"
"Why don't you try a nice dinner and a movie?" Thorpe heard the front gate squeak.
The Engineer peeked through the curtains. "Oh goody, Frank. It's your little fuck toy."
Thorpe jumped up, but Gregor punched him in the solar plexus, dropped him hard. Thorpe lay on the floor, twitching. He heard Claire's footsteps on the sidewalk, heard her ring the bell. Heard her call his name.
The Engineer got down on the floor next to Thorpe. "Should I get that?"
"No," Thorpe gasped.
"Lazurus looked at the photos for a long time, then he took the blowtorch and burned them up," whispered the Engineer, mimicking the voice he had used in the park when Thorpe tried to squeeze him. "First he burned the photographs… then… then, he burned the broker." He smiled at Thorpe. "It's the catch in the voice that I was most proud of. That's what made you a believer. Do you remember what you said to me then?"
Claire knocked harder.
"You said, 'That's a sad story, and when this is over, we'll sit down with some herb tea and have a good cry.' That's what you told me."
"Damn it, Frank, open the door," said Claire. "I know you're in there. It's important."
The Engineer's lips brushed Thorpe's ear. "Why don't we invite her in to have some herb tea with us? It's rude not to, don't you think?"
"I'll take you… to the locker."
"Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Yes." Thorpe listened to Claire's retreating footsteps.
"If you're not telling the truth, we're going to come back for her," said the Engineer, using his own voice again. "I'll make you watch the whole thing. The whole thing, every minute of it. You wouldn't believe what I'm capable of when I put my heart and soul into it, Frank."
Thorpe needed help to get to his feet.
43
"I missed driving." The Engineer sat behind the wheel of the big Buick sedan. "The worst part of the role I played with Lazurus was having to be chauffeured around all the time. Gregor has his uses, but he's not very good company."
Gregor grunted from the backseat.
Thorpe stared straight ahead, the passenger seat slightly sprung from regularly supporting Gregor's weight. He coughed, tried not to struggle against the leather belt around his neck, the belt binding him to the steel rails of the Buick's headrest, giving him not more than two or three inches of slack. He hooked a finger into the leather, tugged without effect. "You could loosen this thing."
"Yes, I could," said the Engineer.
Thorpe carefully turned his head as they stopped for a red light. He could see a car in the next lane, a Plymouth van with a woman talking on a cell phone, too busy to notice him. It probably wouldn't have mattered if she had, since the belt looked like a collar. He was just glad they had slipped out of his apartment without being spotted by Claire. If she had come out to greet him, she would have been in the back with Gregor.
"How much farther, Frank?" asked the Engineer.
Thorpe's mouth was dry.
Gregor jerked on the belt. "Speak, horsey."
Thorpe coughed, tore at the belt with both hands. "A few more miles."
"Gregor is a man of simple pleasures," said the Engineer. "Most of them cruel."
Thorpe wheezed.
"Comfortable?" asked the Engineer.
Gregor jerked at the belt again.
Thorpe gasped, arms flailing.
"Sit back and enjoy the ride, Gregor," said the Engineer. "Frank's not going anywhere."
The backseat upholstery groaned as Gregor settled in.
"You could learn something from this experience," said the Engineer, expansive, one hand on the wheel as he drove. "All the hard work you put in when you thought I was working for Lazurus, all the time you and Kimberly spent, just to make me cooperate willingly." He shook his head. "Yet, here we are, after just a few minutes of quiet conversation, and all you want to do is please me. You do want to please me, don't you?" He waited in vain for an answer. "There's no reason we both can't come away from this richer for the experience." He glanced at Thorpe with those sleepy eyes. "May I give you a bit of advice?"