“No.”
“No?”
“Damn right, no. This is my condo, not yours.”
Favor got up and went over to where Evans was perched anxiously on the edge of the couch. He brought the barrel of his gun down hard across the side of Evans’ head.
“You sonofabitch,” Evans said, and then kind of rolled around on the couch, holding the right side of his head, and wrinkling his pretty yellow sweater. After the pain had subsided somewhat, Evans said, “I still don’t know any David Carson.”
“Pick up the phone.”
Evans started to protest again. This time, all Favor did was give him a good swift kick in the shin. An old playground technique.
“Ow! Aw shit! Ow!” This hurt a lot more, surprisingly, than the gun barrel along the side of the head. Evans bitched and cursed for four, five minutes and then Favor handed him the receiver.
“You sonofabitch,” Evans said. He dialed the number, asked for Carson. “You need to get over to my place right away,” he said as soon as Carson came on the line. “We got a problem. A big one.” He looked up at Favor. “Right away.” He hung up.
Favor sat down in the recliner again. “How much he pay you?”
“None of your business.”
“Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough, was it? You’ve still been shaking him down.”
“Yeah? Is that right?”
“One thing about people you blackmail. They wake up one day and decide they’re really sick of living under your thumb. And then they get violent.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’re gonna get life, you know that, don’t you?” Evans didn’t say anything. Just stared out the window at the spring blue sky. “Unless, of course, you turn state’s evidence against him. His idea, you say. He came to me with the whole plan. The County Attorney’ll cut you some slack if you go that route.”
Evans said, “I wouldn’t get life?”
“Not if you cooperate.”
“Carson’s a lot bigger fish to fry. Socially, I mean.”
“He sure is. The County Attorney’d rather have his scalp than yours any day.”
Evans put his face in his hands. When he took them away, his eyes were moist. “God, I don’t know why I ever agreed to do this.”
“How’d you meet Carson?”
“He had an employee, this guy named Mandlebaum, and he had cancer and I took care of him the last couple weeks of his life. At home, I mean. So then Carson looked me up about ten, eleven months ago.”
“So he offered you the deal?”
“He kept hinting at it, talking about how the only thing that could save the business was the old man’s insurance policy. They had one of those key-man deals, where if one of the partners dies the business gets a lot of money. Almost three million, in this case. Enough to pay off some of the bills and keep things going.”
“How much he pay you?”
“Hundred grand.”
“How much more you been getting out of him?”
“Not that much.”
“How much?” Favor said.
“Thirty, around there. I’m not sure exactly.”
“You think it’d last forever?”
“Yeah, I guess I kinda started thinking that way. Kinda dumb, huh?”
Favor nodded. “Someday he’d either run out of money or run out of patience.”
“God, does my head hurt.”
“Sorry.”
“And my shin.”
“Sorry about that, too.”
“You really get off on slapping people around?”
“Sometimes.”
“That seems weird to me, hurting people I mean. I’m always trying to help people, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, like you helped Carson’s father-in-law.”
“That was the only time I ever did anything like that.” He sounded as if Favor had deeply hurt him by reminding him of the incident.
Footsteps in the hallway. Coming this way.
“You going to hide?” Evans whispered.
“Huh-uh,” Favor whispered back. “Just go open the door.”
The footsteps came closer. Evans looked scared. Favor waved him to the door with the .38. “When he knocks, open the door and then step back and let him walk inside.”
When the knock came, Evans looked back at Favor. Favor nodded. David Carson was framed in the doorway. He was a lanky, impressive middle-aged man. He looked very unhappy.
“What the hell is this, Evans?”
Evans stepped aside so Carson could get a look at Favor.
“C’mon in, Carson,” Favor said.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Just get your ass in here.” Favor liked pushing people like Carson around. For once, it was Carson’s turn to be the pushee.
“He knows,” Evans said.
“Oh, isn’t that just fucking ducky?” Carson said. He walked into the living room. “How’d he find out?” Carson said to Evans.
“I told him.”
“Figures. You dumb bastard.” Carson looked at Favor. “You’re not getting jack shit from me. You’d better understand that right up front. No more for Evans, and none at all for you.”
Favor decided now was probably a good time to get out of the recliner.
“You killed your father-in-law,” Favor said.
“What I did is my own business.” Carson’s tone made it clear that he never explained himself to peons.
“You ever think how your wife might feel about that?”
“Say,” Carson said, snapping his fingers. “Favor. Now I know who you are. Your father used to be the old man’s groundskeeper or something like that.”
“I liked the old man,” Favor said, “a lot more than you did, apparently.”
Carson looked at him and smiled. “When’s the last time you talked to her? To Jane.”
“A while ago. Why?”
“Go down and get her,” Carson said to Evans. Evans looked baffled. “My wife,” Carson said. “In my car.”
“What the hell’re you trying to pull here, anyway?” Favor said.
“Go get her, Evans,” Carson said. “I picked her up on the way over here.”
Evans looked at Favor for approval. Favor nodded. “Right back,” Evans said.
“You gullible bastard,” Carson said after Evans was gone.
“You’re one of these guys who has a life-time crush on my wife, aren’t you? She told me how you used to write her letters sometimes.”
Favor felt his face redden.
“She may not be what you think,” Carson said. He was smiling again. Smirking, actually. “You’re some kind of investigator, right?” Carson said. “What’d she do, hire you to follow me around or something? That how you got into this? Stupid bitch.”
The name-calling stunned him. How dare anybody call Princess Jane a name. My God, this guy must be insane. Favor was about to say something when Jane came through the door. She wore a camel-colored suede car coat, a starched white shirt, black slacks and a pair of black flats. She was, as always, gorgeous.
“I’m sorry for all this, Favor,” she said.
Favor looked at Carson. “She knows what you did. To her father.”
Favor expected a big scene. All that happened was Jane looked at Carson. “I need to talk with Favor alone,” she said.
“Why the hell’d you have him following me around?” Carson said. If Carson had called her a name, Favor was prepared to slug him.
“Because I didn’t know what was going on,” she said. “You were acting so strange. I thought maybe you had a woman on the side.”
“So you hire this creep?” Carson said.
“He isn’t a creep, and I want to talk to him alone. Why don’t you and Mr. Evans go outside for a while?”
Carson glared at him, then nodded for Evans to follow him out. Carson slammed the door behind him good and hard.
Jane said, “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Favor. And I do want to pay you.”
“You know better than that.” Then: “I know some good divorce lawyers.”