With a shrug of his shoulders Lewis turned to Lora:
“In a word, Mr. Halliday asks to be paid fifty thousand dollars to refrain from printing pictures of you and me and your children and your house and garden in a tabloid newspaper.”
Lora stared at him, and at Pete, and back again at Lewis. In her breast relief was rising. She had no idea what she had feared, but if this was all... Well. He wanted money. Nothing startling about that.
Pete had hunched up his shoulders and spread out his hands as if to say, there, that’s putting it neatly for you; but when he spoke it was to enter an objection:
“Really, that’s a little too bald, don’t you think? Oversimplification, let’s call it. I represent the press—”
“Bah!” Lewis interrupted scornfully. He went on to Lora. “Mr. Halliday calls himself a reporter. He came to my office on Monday morning and told me an ingenious and complicated story, consisting of lurid details of your past life, especially an intricate fairy tale regarding the past five years. He has an amusing theory, for instance, that one of your children is my son — oh, unquestionably he has imagination. I got rid of him; the whole thing was of course beneath discussion. That afternoon I called on the editor of the paper, with whom I am slightly acquainted; I was told that this investigation, as he called it, was entirely in Mr. Halliday’s hands. I was also told that his paper was interested solely in the disclosure of facts; the editor was aghast when he learned of Mr. Halliday’s offer to exchange silence for a sum of money. He declared indignantly that he would discharge Mr. Halliday at once, and it appears that this really was done a few hours later; apparently the offer of exchange was in fact Mr. Halliday’s own personal idea, for the editor assured me that his paper would not dream of entering into a conspiracy to suppress news; it would not be ethical. He courteously insisted that the story must be printed. I was driven to a recourse I very much disliked; I saw the owner of the paper, an old friend of mine, and succeeded in persuading him to my point of view. It appeared to be satisfactorily settled. But no; Mr. Halliday returned to see me this morning. He resented having been discharged from his job, and was politely truculent. He made another threat, this time openly on his own responsibility; he stated that there are four tabloid papers in New York equally intent on giving their readers important and interesting news, and that no one man can muzzle all of them. He proposes to peddle his fairy tale unless he is paid not to. His figure remains the same; it had occurred to him to double it, he said, but modestly he refrained.”
Pete bowed to Lora again. “You see, I’m not grasping.”
“For my part,” Lewis went on, “my inclination would be to turn him and his fairy tale over to the police. I think he’s pulling a bluff and I’d like to call it. But the chief concern is you and the children. This man claims to have known you intimately a long time ago. He states that there has been an extended investigation, financed by his paper, and he recites a long rigmarole which he calls facts. Granting that they’re lies, and are printed, and you sue for libel — even granting that you get a judgment — it would be quite a mess. It would be disgusting for you, and it might ruin the lives of your children. Obviously you had to be consulted. I could have paid this man without telling you anything about it, but I saw no means of providing against future additional demands; he might even be after you already; I didn’t know. Since you know him you are probably aware that he has unlimited effrontery and no discoverable vestige of scruple or decency.”
Lora was looking steadily at Pete, who had seated himself in the other chair and was gazing into the fire, apparently paying no attention to Lewis’s recital. His face was as expressionless as it was possible for it to get, with the sharp straight thrust of its disdainful inquisitive nose and equally sharp chin, the restless deep-set brown eyes, the startlingly white skin, the mouth always ready to twist itself into the smile she remembered so well. When Lewis paused she was looking across him at Pete, and said abruptly:
“Once you told me what decency was. Remember?”
“Did I?” He darted a glance at her. “Probably.”
“Yes. You knew all about it.”
“I still do.” He was looking again at the fire. “Decency, like all other moral concepts, is a weapon for the strong and a pitfall for the weak. It’s a grand tool for those who know how to use it.” He turned to Lewis. “Look here, don’t let’s get into a discussion of scruples and decency, or I’ll make you look silly. Do you know the only reason I’ll have any squeamishness about taking your damned money? Because I know how you got it. You’re a successful corporation lawyer; don’t you think I know what that means? I’m no Robin Hood either; that’s another species of blah; not interested. You talk as if I were going to spread Lora and her children all over a dirty tabloid and expose them to the sneers and persecution of a herd of swine. Not at all; that would be vulgar and unlovely and I should hate it. All I’m going to do is transfer a wad of money from your pocket to mine; by any realistic standard where is the indecency in that? It’s merely a matter of cash, which by the way you’ll never miss, since by the operations of your own special banditry you’ll make it up within a year. Extra, of course, over and above your normal depredations. So you take care of your own decency; I’ll attend to mine. Don’t worry about it.”
Lewis’s eyes were levelled on him. “I see. You admit it’s a bluff then.”
“Hell, no. I swear I don’t see how you lawyers get along, you’re so remarkably obtuse. Patiently I’ll explain. The technique of this transaction is the immediate and open threat. That is obviously the whole technique of life, with variations; there’s the delayed threat, the indirect threat, the removed threat, the covert threat — categories a mile long. The capitalist says to the laborer, work here and give me a big share of what you make, or you starve. Now it’s manifestly indecent for one man to force another man to starve; then why isn’t the capitalist indecent? Because he doesn’t force the laborer to starve; he merely threatens to. Pushed, would he let him starve? Wouldn’t he, though; it’s been done on occasion. Pushed, would I in this instance carry out my threat? Sure, I’d have to, to preserve my integrity. But thank heaven, I won’t have to; like the capitalist, I save myself from indecency by devising a threat that works. You’ll pay, just as the laborer does.”
“I may. And I may not.” Lewis’s eyes were still on him, speculatively. “I can see one thing, Mr. Halliday, I’ve done you an injustice. I thought you were a common blackmailer and thief. Quite the contrary, I see, you’re a dreamer, a radical, a socialist, a philosopher bent on evening things up. That you should begin with yourself is doubtless merely a matter of convenience.”
“Is that irony,” Pete demanded, “or are you really as dumb as that? The socialist part, I mean. I see; irony; forgive me. The socialist, of course, imagines he can remove the threat from life. I entertain no such illusion, I merely perceive its omnipresence, and am acute enough not to be deceived by any of its disguises, even the most subtle and elaborate. — But I repeat, you’ll pay; that is our present business.”
“I may not,” Lewis repeated. “The further I see into your intelligence, the more I’m inclined to tell you to go to the devil. You are fully aware of the danger you’re running, but let me emphasize it a little. First, every word you uttered in my office Monday, and again this morning, was taken down by a stenographer. Oh, don’t doubt it, I’ll be glad to show you a transcript. I need not point out that Miss Winter is with us this evening. I accept your terms, let us say, I hand you money; and suddenly concealed witnesses appear and the money is taken from you and identified by marks; a simple and ordinary arrangement often used on blackmailers, invariably with success. All it requires is a little courage on the part of the victim. Do you think it entirely safe, in the present instance, to assume that the courage is lacking?”