“That’s the way he negotiates? Or is he-?”
“All in,” Shalare said, as if reluctantly proud of his adversary.
“I should hope it wouldn’t come to that,” Sean said, judiciously. “But there’s too much riding on this for any one man to be allowed to derail our train. Should it come to it, your Mr. Beaumont’s not the only one who can call in a specialist.”
1959 October 06 Tuesday 10:12
“A ringer!” Luther yelled. “Look, Roy! I got one!”
“Go for the six-pack, Luther,” Seth urged him on. “You can do it.”
The slack-mouthed man hesitated, one of the custom-made “turn shoes” the Beaumonts had given him last Christmas steady in his hand.
“Bring it home, Luther,” Beaumont said. “One more and we’ve got forty. That’ll teach these young bucks to mess with old stags like us.”
Luther stood at the edge of the platform, sighted down the length of the pit to the stake, exhaled slowly, and delicately rainbowed the shoe through the air.
“Damn!” Harley said. “You nailed it, Luther. We’re done.”
Luther’s slack mouth flopped into a wide grin. Beaumont rolled over to him, and extended his hand.
“Easiest hundred bucks I ever made,” he said. “A pure slaughter. You and me, Luther, we’re a hell of a team.”
“Well, you got most of the points, Roy. Nobody pitches as good as you.”
“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t me that went back to back and slammed the door on them, Luther.”
The slack-mouthed man pumped Beaumont’s hand, speechless.
Cynthia caught her brother’s eye, and beamed her approval. Their love arced between them, as palpable as an electric current.
1959 October 06 Tuesday 10:28
“Yes?” Dett said, his voice as inanimate as the receiver he was holding.
“He’d like to see you.” Cynthia’s businesslike voice.
“When?”
“That would depend on your… schedule. He knows you’re working on an important project.”
Dett felt the muscles in his neck unclench. If he wants it for lunch today-anytime today-I can’t do it. But if you don’t come when they call, they start thinking you’ve slipped the leash… “How would tomorrow be?” he said.
“If that’s the soonest you can make it, that would be fine.”
Was there something in her voice?
“I’m still collecting some of the information he wanted,” Dett said. “I expect to have a good bit more of it come in sometime today. Tomorrow, my report would be more complete.”
“I understand. Tomorrow then. You have no time preference?”
“No.”
“Sometime in the evening, then. Say, eight?”
“I’ll be there,” Dett said.
1959 October 06 Tuesday 10:33
Tussy stood before her bedroom mirror, studying her face for the tenth time that morning. Oh, what is wrong with you? she thought. I don’t care if you only got a couple of hours sleep, you don’t gop on the war paint in the daytime. Stop stalling and start cooking! She brushed her tousled hair vigorously, then gave herself a sharp crack on the bottom with the hairbrush. All right, now! She nodded briskly at the mirror, grabbed a fresh pair of dungarees and pulled them on, holding her breath to fasten the waist.
“And what are you looking at?” she said to Fireball, who was curled up on her bed, inspecting her.
What would he want for lunch? she mused, as she walked through her kitchen, idly opening and closing the overhead cabinets. Some men like a big steak. I still have time to go out and- No, wait! That’s too much for lunch. Maybe tuna salad and some… Oh, damn! I should have just asked him…
1959 October 06 Tuesday 10:42
“Where does a man take a girl like you?” Rufus said to Rosa Mae.
“Take me? Rufus Hightower, I-”
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, Rosa Mae. I was trying to ask, when you go out, a woman like you, where does a man take you? I know you’re not going for some juke joint, but you don’t seem like you’re the nightclub type, either. I… I guess I don’t know much-hell, I don’t know anything-about where a respectable woman would go on a date. The movies, maybe?”
“Are you taking a survey, Rufus? Because, if you are, there’s a whole lot of women at my church you could go and ask. I’m sure they’d be happy to talk to you.”
“Why you want to make this so hard, Rosa Mae?”
“Me?”
“You, girl. You know how I feel about you. I… declared myself, didn’t I?”
“You said some things. But am I supposed to know you… like me just because you talk to me?”
“Because of what I talk to you about,” Rufus said, earnestly. “About what’s important to me. What I hope will be important to you, too.”
“Rufus, if you want to go out on a date with me, why can’t you just ask me, like any regular man?”
“Because I’m not a regular man, Rosa Mae. You know that. You know that because I showed it to you. That’s what I was trying to say, before. I asked you about… where you go and all because that’s where I want to take you.”
“Like a real gentleman? That doesn’t sound like-”
“Like Rufus? Like the Rufus you think you know, even after all the times I’ve talked to you? I swear, little sugar, if your daddy was around, I’d go and ask him before I asked you, if that’s the way you wanted me to be.”
Rosa Mae stepped back from Rufus, her amber eyes flashing, as if in sync with her pulse. “You would?”
“On my heart,” he said.
“Then you go and talk with Moses,” she said, turning on her heel and walking off.
1959 October 06 Tuesday 11:08
Dett drank four glasses of tepid tap water, then did his exercises, his mind taking him to that colorless no-place he could induce at will.
He dressed slowly. A fresh-pressed pair of chinos, a dark-green chambray shirt, oxblood brogans whose heavy construction concealed their steel toes.
Dett slipped his brass knuckles into the side pocket of his leather jacket, and dropped his straight razor into a slot he had sewn in just for that purpose. The derringer, chambered for the same.45 caliber as his other pistols, fit snugly inside his left sleeve.
He locked his room door behind him, and rang for the elevator car.
“Morning, suh,” Moses said.
“Morning to you,” Dett replied.
As the car descended, Dett asked, “You’re not going to say anything about that package I left with you?”
“Package, suh?”
“You could teach some of these young men think they’re so sharp a thing or two,” Dett said. “Another day okay with you?”
“One day the same as the other round here, suh.”
“How are you enjoying Locke City so far, Mr. Dett?” Carl called out, as Dett stepped off the elevator car and started across the lobby.
“It seems like a good place to do business,” Dett said, not breaking stride.
1959 October 06 Tuesday 11:11
“Time for another coffee break,” Sherman Layne told the clerk at the car-rental agency.
“How long a break?” the young man asked, worriedly.
“Ten minutes, tops,” Layne promised him. A quick phone call earlier that day had identified the plate on the Buick logged in by Holden as belonging to the agency. The clerk would have pulled the matching paper for him, but Sherman Layne was a man who believed in collecting information, not giving it away.
Him again! he said to himself. Changing rides, are you, Walker Dett? And what does a man like you want with Tussy Chambers?
He strolled out behind the agency building, where the clerk was puffing on a cigarette. “Ever get yourself stopped by the police?” Layne asked the young man. “For speeding, maybe. Or being parked where you shouldn’t be?”