“God knows why not, with your track record. They ought to be getting in line to lend you money, Mace.”
“To be sure. But they’ve got a strange notion of where to draw the line between genteel Yankee cunning and dishonesty.”
It made Senna chuckle again. “Okay. Vic can handle it if he wants to. Every motherin’ dollar in Manhattan goes through his hands on its way to the kitty, and a piece of every dollar rubs off. It adds up.”
“I get the point-he’s big enough. Next question: is he reliable enough?”
“If he wasn’t, the organization would have replaced him with somebody who was.”
“How do I approach him?”
“I can think of a lot of ways, but there’s one that’ll save time and trouble. Just let me know when you want it set up. I’ll call Sally Civetta, and he’ll arrange it direct. That way we avoid half a dozen middlemen.”
“Good. I’ll know within a couple of weeks whether I’m going to need it or not.”
“Just give me twenty-four hours to set it up. No big deal. I wouldn’t give it a thought. Oh, say, there’s a nut-case Englishman in town with a Duesenburg for sale. I thought you might-”
“Save it, Sal, I’m expecting a call. I’ll talk to you Monday.” Villiers hung the phone on the hook and glanced at his watch, folded the flashpapers, and put them away in his pocket. Through the glass booth doors he watched an ample-rumped girl cross the lobby; his expression changed slightly, and then the telephone rang and he reached for it, still watching the girl.
“Yes?”
“This is Steve Wyatt.”
The girl disappeared beyond the range of his vision. He said, “What have you got to report?”
“I got hold of a set of keys to Howard Claiborne’s office files and had duplicates made. I expect to do what you asked me to do sometime over the weekend when there’s no one in the office.”
“Keep an eye out for the building security people.”
“Do you take me for an idiot, Mr. Villiers?”
“I’ll let you know after I’ve seen how you perform.”
“I’ll perform. Don’t worry about it. I’ve had enough practice at breaking and entering to know the drill. I’m like you, Mr. Villiers-I was born four days late and I’ve been running to catch up ever since. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not worried,” Villiers said. “You are.”
The youth uttered a harsh laugh that did not convey the nonchalance it was intended to express. Villiers let the silence hang until Wyatt spoke again: “I’ll do the job, okay? You don’t need to badger me. Anything else on your mind?”
“Sonny,” Villiers said in a mild voice, “you need to watch your tone with me. Don’t let it slip your mind I’m the one who can put you away.”
“Maybe you can’t afford to,” Wyatt said, insolent and cocky. “You need me right now.”
“Nobody’s indispensable to me. You’re expendable. Use your head, and we’ll get along.”
“I get along better with people when I know where I stand with them. I still want to know what’s in this for me.”
“You’re in too much of a hurry.”
“Am I? You’re asking me to dig skeletons out of important people’s closets. The least you can do is toss me a bone.”
“I’m about to put a corporation in your lap. Will that satisfy you?” Because no one could see him in the booth, Villiers allowed himself to smile.
Wyatt said, “All right, Mr. Villiers, now you’ve got the mule’s attention. Go on.”
The smile broadened slightly, and went. “I’ve put in a takeover bid for a small company called Melbard Chemical. You know it?”
“I’ve seen the logo.”
“There’s an old man on the board of directors who controls half a million shares. He’s got a grip on them an ape couldn’t pry loose. I need those shares to get control of the company. It’s a domino situation-if the Melbard bid collapses, I lose a string of important things beyond it. I need to have Melbard in my pocket by Monday morning.”
“It’s a tall order,” Wyatt said, “but it sounds intriguing. Where do I fit in?”
“I’m beginning to learn they don’t call society ‘The Four Hundred’ for nothing. All of you seem to know each other. The old man who’s in my way is pushing eighty, he’s the only surviving director from the original board of the Merchants and Maritime Trust Bank, and one of the other founding directors of that bank in nineteen-twenty-four was Robert Phelps Wyatt.”
“My grandfather. Sure.”
“According to the information I’ve put together, this old man used to bounce you on his knee. He still keeps in touch with your mother.”
“You wouldn’t be talking about Arthur Rademacher, by any chance?”
“I was beginning to wonder whether you’d come up with the right name before I had to give it to you.”
“All right, it’s Arthur Rademacher. I know him, he knows me. Where does that get us?”
“How much does he know about your record?”
“I have no idea. Not very much, I imagine. I’ve been discreet.”
“Not discreet enough.”
“You don’t have to remind me. But nobody else but you would have had any reason to sic private detectives on me.”
Villiers said, “Then we’ll assume Rademacher doesn’t know the sordid details.”
“I don’t like your brand of humor very much, Mr. Villiers.”
“You’ll get used to it. Now, Rademacher got out from under the Market crash of twenty-nine by methods which, not to put too fine a point on it, could be described as devious. Questionable. Nothing actionable, of course-it’s too long ago, there’s a statute of limitations, but just the same he’s got a reputation to uphold, and his family has got a reputation to uphold, and in your circles nothing matters much except reputation.”
“How the hell did you find out anything about what an old man did forty years ago?”
“The same way I found out about your activities of five years ago.”
“Okay, okay,” Wyatt said. “Go ahead.”
“I need a lever to move Rademacher. You’re the lever. By now the old man thinks his secret’s safe forever. It will hit him hard when you spring it on him.”
“When I spring it on him?”
“Coming from you, it will hurt more. You’re one of his people, not an outsider. Once he knows you’re onto him, he’ll have to come around. Exposure in his own crowd could ruin him, and he’s too old to start over. I want you to pry him loose from those half-million shares.”
“I take it you made him an offer. Why’d he turn it down?”
“He doesn’t want to see a venerable company like Melbard taken over by an upstart art-gallery chain.”
“Art gallery?”
“The front I’m using. I’ve made him a legitimate offer; when you hang up, call Hackman, he’ll give you all the details.”
“All right,” Wyatt said.
“It’s got to be done fast. I want Rademacher pried loose from control by Sunday at the latest.”
“I’ll go out there tomorrow,” Wyatt said.
“Lean on him,” Villiers told him. “It will be worth your while.”
“How?”
“I’ve got to have a man to put in charge of Melbard once I’ve got control of it-a straw board and an agreeable president. Why not you? You’ve got a respectable society name. I know those people-you’ll be blackmailing Rademacher, but he’d rather be blackmailed by you than by an outsider. He’ll be more willing to come around if he knows you’re going in as the crown prince, ready to become president of the company as soon as the deal goes through.”
“You’re going to hand me the company just like that?”
“With strings. You won’t be free to handle it your way.”
Wyatt grunted. “In the long run, you’ll get done with whatever you wanted it for. Then it’ll be a drag on you. All I have to do is wait you out-you’ll turn it loose sooner or later.”