Pendleton sat in his gold-and-black room with the view of the city. It was mostly gray mist now, but Pendleton had not been watching the city. The large plate glass was dotted with fat little drops and every so often they gathered body and shot down the smooth surface in quick little streams. Pendleton was watching that. He sat in the large gold-and-black room and his hands made a dry sound when he rubbed his palms together.
It was an aimless sitting. Pendleton rarely was aimless. The man Turk opened a door and Pendleton turned with a sharp movement. “What is it this time?”
“The phone again, Mr. Pendleton.”
“Louisiana?”
“No, Mr. Pendleton. It’s Alverato.”
Pendleton got up. Except for the lines down the side of his mouth, he looked as controlled as ever. “Tell him again. I am not interested.”
“Mr. Pendleton, he wants to know if you’re interested in hearing about your daughter.”
Pendleton didn’t turn; only his back stiffened.
He walked to the phone then, making precise little circles around the furniture.
“This is Pendleton,” he said into the phone. “You have my daughter?”
“You want to come over and talk business?”
“Of course, Alverato. When?”
“Two at my place. In the country.” And Alverato hung up.
Pendleton’s car reached the estate at three minutes before two. Turk was driving and Pendleton sat in the back, shades drawn, and his dry hands worked on the head of his cane in small spasms. A hidden device swung the large gates open and the car entered. Then the gate clicked shut again.
The big car had hardly moved around the first bend of the drive when they were stopped again, this time by a wide-shouldered guy who carried a Tommy gun. He stood in the middle of the road and raised his arm. When Pendleton snapped the shades of his windows up, he saw two more men coming out of the woods from the left, two from the right, and one from behind. They all carried Tommy guns.
The car had slowed, but apparently not enough. With an unexpected burst one of the guns ripped loose. The car jerked a few times and came to a bumpy stop with one front wheel ripped into shreds. When they opened the doors they waved at a pale and confused Pendleton, who stumbled from his seat, speechless. He stood in a circle of Tommy guns and then his pallid face turned dark. “The effrontery-” He was hoarse.
“Sorry, Mr. Pendleton. One of the boys got nervous.”
The man who had spoken followed him all the way to the house keeping the Tommy gun trained on his back. At the door, Birdie met them both and took Pendleton straight to Alverato.
The room was long. A narrow carpet led past an empty fireplace, a library table, the kind of urn that usually stands in a garden, and up to a massive desk. Alverato was sitting there and he watched Pendleton come the whole length of the room. There was no second chair by the desk.
“Hi, Pendy. Was that your car had a blowout?”
While Alverato laughed, Pendleton found his voice. It shook at first and sounded cracked, but then it was as cold as ever.
“You called concerning my daughter. I am here now-”
“Fine, Pendy, fine. You want a cigar?”
“Alverato. Will you come to the point of this visit? I have tolerated your idiot’s pranks only-”
“Pranks?” Alverato leaned back with a broad grin. “What pranks, Pendy?”
“That scene from a gangster movie outside.”
Alverato laughed for a minute, but then he leaned forward, his eyes mean. “It wasn’t so funny, was it, Pendleton? It kinda shook you up and brought you in line, didn’t it? Outdated methods, huh? But they work, don’t they, Pendleton?”
Pendleton’s mouth twitched, but then he got it under control. “I am still assuming you have my daughter. Let’s cut the horseplay and talk about that.”
“All right.” Alverato slapped his hand on the desk. “Let’s get to it. I got what you want, you got what I want. We trade.”
“You have what, Alverato?”
Alverato reached into a drawer and drew out some photos. “Your daughter,” he said.
The first one showed Pat at a table, frowning into the camera. Then there was one of Pat in bed, sleeping. The last one had her lying on a couch with a newspaper in her hand.
“Well, Pendleton?”
“Where is she?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
Pendleton stiffened. “This proves nothing. The photos could have been taken months ago.”
“Look, Wrinkles, I’m better than that. Take a look at the newspaper she’s holding and then try arguing with me.” He gave Pendleton a magnifying glass. “Look at it, Pendleton.” The date on the paper was one day ago. “Pendleton, you’re hooked.”
In the silence that followed, neither of them moved. “What do you want, Alverato?”
“Now you’re talking.” Alverato jumped up from the desk and came around to Pendleton’s side. “Seeing how you love your daughter, I want the works. I want the contact in Italy, the delivery route, the works.”
“I refuse.” Pendleton said it blindly.
“You know, Pendy, that kid of yours has a lot of life left in her.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Just try me. Just try me, Wrinkles, and tonight I’ll send her back to you in a sack.”
Pendleton bared his long teeth for a moment and sucked the air into his lungs. When he exhaled he looked shrunken. “Very well. When do I get my daughter?”
“How do you want her?”
“For heaven’s sake, Alverato-”
“You want her alive, she’ll be delivered after we get confirmation of the order we’re going to place.”
Pendleton stared at the wall, his face a mask. “Very well. We can hear from the contact tonight.”
“That’s not all I want, Pendleton. I want the works, how it’s done-”
“One moment.” Pendleton turned his head slowly. “You don’t understand. You cannot do it alone. The contact is in Italy, but the method of entry is arranged here. Even if I told you all the details of the operation, it would do you no good. It is my presence that counts at this end.”
“Why?”
“That’s the way it’s organized. Personal arrangements are delicate things, Alverato, especially when the risk is large. The arrangements-”
“So we rearrange. I’ll put a man on it and you show him the ropes. You show him every step of the way. That’s part of the deal.”
“I agreed to give you the name of the Italian contact, Alverato. There was no mention of anything else.”
“There is now, Pendleton. That understood?”
Pendleton shrugged. His hand was tracing back and forth over the top of the desk, but he didn’t say anything.
“All right, now let’s get the details. How do I order the heroin?”
“May I have a chair?”
Alverato went to the other end of the room, brought back a chair, and they sat down at the desk. Pendleton wrote it down as he talked. “The contact’s name is Lippi. Signor Alfredo Lippi, Box Ninety-four, Positano, Italy. You write to him over the signature of Alfred B. Kent, President, Imports, Inc., New York. Write anything at all, but dealing with your recent visit to Rome and when might he return it. Now, the important thing is to mention a number. For instance, the fifth of June would be fine for a visit, or your daughter has two new teeth, or you realize four thousand miles is a long trip, etc. The first digit of any such number is the amount in kilos of heroin you’re ordering. Make it innocuous.”
“What?”
“Innocuous. By return mail-or cable, if you have cabled-you will receive a message containing the clue to the time and place of the pickup. If the cable is sent on an odd day, the pickup will be ready two weeks from the day. If it is even, there is a delay until further notice.
“The time of cabling is important. Here is a list of Italian cities, all numbered from one to ten. If the cable is sent at two, either A.M. or P.M., the pickup city is number two-Genoa, as it happens. One more thing. Your cable must always be sent on an even hour in the afternoon. That is the entire procedure.”
At four o’clock that afternoon they sent a cable to Positano, mentioning among other things that the 824 pairs of sandals had arrived intact and that Mr. Alfred B. Kent hoped to be able to place an additional order in the near future.
Then they waited. Pendleton’s face remained blank and he stared out of the window most of the time. Alverato smoked a few cigars, ate a meal, and once he placed a call to an apartment in Queens. The man that answered said the girl was all right now. She had been rough for a while, but then they had called Dr. Welch, who had given her a green capsule. She was asleep.
At eleven that night, Imports, Inc. received a cablegram dated the ninth and stating that Signor Lippi confirmed receipt of cablegram and would be happy to handle any additional orders. Time of message was nine.
Eight kilos of heroin would be ready for pickup in Naples two weeks from the date.
When they got to the apartment in Queens, Pat watched them come in without enthusiasm. She gave her father a dull greeting. Nor was Pendleton demonstrative. He took her home, saw her fall asleep, and locked himself in his study.
He made two phone calls. He called the Medaglia d’Oro and reached Signor Lippi in his room. They arranged that the present order should be honored, but that further orders were to be ignored unless signed by “Alfred” instead of “Alfred B. Kent.” And they changed the numbers of the Italian cities to run from three to twelve in scrambled order. Pendleton wrote out the new list of cities and put the slip of paper in his vest pocket while he said good-by to Signor Lippi.