The Big Get-Even

by Paul Di Filippo

  We started away from the lake, back toward the buildings. Nancarrow radiated a palpable air of deliberating and weighing all his options, to impress me with his weighty solemnity, before he spoke.

  “All right, Glen, I can see that to close this deal I am going to have to lay all my cards on the table, just as I asked you to do. Yes, I do have some insider information that you were not privy to. But I don’t think that knowing it will change your options. Here’s what’s going on. I’ve learned this from my contacts in the legislature. The land adjacent to your property is going to become a national park, about ten thousand acres in size. It’s been donated by the current owner. And new exit and entrance ramps will be built off the interstate to facilitate access. Can you imagine how popular the lodge will be then? But here’s the rub for you. These developments are over a five-year time frame, contingent on federal funding and such. Undercapitalized as you are, you can’t possibly hang in there that long. I can. That’s why I’m willing to invest half a million now.”

  I pretended to ponder this revelation for a few dozen more steps. “Makes sense, I guess.”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  We came to a stop, and I stuck out my hand. “We have a deal.”

  Surprisingly, Nancarrow’s grip was neither slimy nor scaled, neither fevered nor icy, but rather bold and pleasant. The shake of a fellow who was used to people liking him—or at least kowtowing to him. I tried to picture him fondling Vee with that hand, running it up and down her haunch, cupping her strong jaw. Maybe such elegance and style was actually more representative of the devil than horns or hooves or scales.

  “Fabulous! Then nothing’s left but the paperwork. I’ll get back to the city today and start the process.”

  I had to exert all my self-control to conceal the jolt that Nancarrow’s words sent through me. He couldn’t leave now! Our whole subterfuge of getting the Prynne letter delivered under his nose, then confronting him with it, would be out the window. We had been relying on catching him off-balance, out of his native environment. Employing a kind of shock-and-awe outrage on our part that would motivate him to immediate consent for fear of losing the deal. But for all that to happen, he had to be on the premises. We couldn’t let him leave.

  I realized then that only Vee could keep him here.

  46

  The Escalade, driven by Rushlow, with Digweed riding shotgun and Vee ensconced like royalty in the back seat, arrived back around 2:00 p.m. After nearly four hours of nervous waiting, I hurried over. Everyone else I had to worry about was accounted for, leaving just Vee to talk to.

  We had the usual Sunday influx of day-trippers, and Nellie was being run ragged with various errands that only she could handle. Not that she figured in the conspiracy exactly, but I just needed to know she wouldn’t intrude on anything. After briefing Sandralene, I had sent her off into the woods—on foot, since both rowboats had customers—to apprise Stan of what was happening. Maybe he would have some insights into setting the hook deeper in Nancarrow’s jaw. And although Ray was growing a tad antsy, he continued to cooperate by remaining room-bound. Arranging that homemade pizza for him had gone a long way toward satisfying his creature comforts—three times a day. His laundry basket continued to accumulate sausage slices that failed quality assurance.

  Evidently missing his gym time, Nancarrow himself had embarked on a hike. “I might as well get a wider look at what I’m buying,” he told me before setting off. The kitchen had put up some sandwiches and bottled water for him. I was bemused by his backpack—a small, supple leather creation that featured two cartoonish yet somehow malign monster eyes on the closure flaps—until I saw the Fendi label. Fifteen hundred or thereabouts, I guessed, at Neiman Marcus and other exclusive outlets.

  I went over to the SUV. Rushlow and Digweed were fumbling various packages bearing designer names out of the back, while Vee stood beside them, supervising.

  “Need a hand?” I asked.

  The wide boys glared at me as if I were questioning their manhood, bringing them down to my lowly servant level.

  “We got this, cuz,” said Digweed. “You just mind your room keys.”

  “Well, I’m actually glad you mentioned my job, Mr. Digweed. That’s exactly why I’m here. Miss Pomestu, I’m afraid I need to talk to you about your bill.”

  Vee peered over the top of her sunglasses at me. “My bill? What about it?”

  “I think you’d prefer we discuss it in private. You see, your last check—well there was some difficulty …”

  Rushlow and Digweed made barely muffled snickers. It was obvious they were getting a little tired of their boss’ infatuation, and of their role as handmaidens in this boring rustic setting. As active city boys, they plainly longed for a return to breaking legs and feeling up strippers while their boss schmoozed politicians at “gentlemen’s clubs.” And they surely knew that Vee’s reign as queen of Nancarrow’s libido was nearing its predetermined end, giving them license to be slyly dismissive of her.

  “This is ridiculous and insulting,” said Vee. “Where’s Barnaby? He’ll straighten matters out.”

  I interpreted Vee’s question as Is it safe to talk? “He’s not available right now.”

  She huffed. “Then I suppose I’ll have to go with you and listen to your mean-spirited accusations. But just wait until he hears of this!” She turned to address her reluctant assistants. “Please bring those things to my room.” She tossed them her key. “You can just leave the door unlocked and the key on my dresser.”

  In the lodge’s office, Anildo Pereira emerged from the screen of his phone only hazily, as if half his attention were still ensorcelled in some Narnia or Middle Earth. I sent him off to make sure the dirty laundry had been picked up from the men’s and women’s dormitory trailers. Then I made certain the windows were closed and the door to the office locked.

  Vee had perched on a corner of Nellie’s desk behind the privacy screen, holding her sunglasses wearily by one stem. Her limbs seemed limp as noodles, and her face looked so different from its hardened gold-digger guise of a moment ago that it was as if she had peeled off one of those full prosthetic masks featured in Hollywood spy films.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime under a filthy rock with all the creepy, crawling things. I don’t think I can ever wash this stink off. Has it been only three days?”

  “Yes, only that. But you’ve got to know that you’re doing a magnificent job. Nancarrow is much less alert, less sharp-edged, than I suspect he would be back in his neighborhood. He’s not cutting this deal with killer instinct. You’ve lulled him into a kind of complacency about the whole affair. He thinks we’re a bunch of rubes and you’re the farmer’s daughter.”

  “Huh! I don’t feel like anyone’s daughter anymore.”

  I held her free hand. “Just hang in there. It’s almost over. But there’s one last hurdle. You’ve got to keep him here tonight and into tomorrow.”

  I explained what I hadn’t been able to tell Vee before: that the FedEx envelope would arrive only before noon on Monday—tomorrow. When Nancarrow had shown up on Friday, we alerted Ray’s Vegas confederate to send the envelope by overnight rate on Saturday.

  “As soon as it comes, we’ll shove the harpoon in, and with any luck, the whole schmear will come to closure. He’ll sign the contract, wire us the money, and that’s the last we’ll see of him.”

  “I sure hope it plays out that way,” she said. “But what am I going to do to make him stay? Believe me, I’ve shown him a real good time—every position I know, and then all over again. But I’m just one woman.”

  Vee’s words triggered an immediate picture in my head, but I hesitated to say aloud what I was envisioning. Yet, as it proved, I needn’t have been so shy or fussy. Vee herself immediately recognized the same implication and could not deny that route as our best scheme.
Still, even acknowledging the reality of the situation, she couldn’t stop herself from slumping more despondently.

  She fleshed out what so far was only hypothetical. “Those two simpletons of his have hooked up with a couple of the girls here, I suppose?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I likewise suppose, what with the limited quarters and the lack of privacy in the trailers, that all four of them have been busy in their one room?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Then what’s two more? I’m sure Nancarrow has been eyeing their young bods, even if he had the good manners not to make it obvious. I’m pretty good, but I’m not eighteen anymore. So if I bring up the possibility of an orgy, he’s bound to jump. I just hope your furniture girlfriend—whatshername, Bethune—chose sturdy beds. But they do all look top of the line. I’m sure she wanted to sell you the best and maximize her profits. Just like all of us, I guess.”

  Vee arose from the desk, and her transformation back to her hardboiled self was as remarkable and unnerving as her deflation had been. Her voice reeked of self-assurance and contempt for any who would interfere with her desires.

  “Well, Mr. McClinton, I’m glad we got that all straightened out. Now I know just what I have to do to satisfy everyone.”

  I saw her out of the office just as Anildo Pereira was returning. Entranced by the jiggle of her hips, the boy gave a low whistle.

  “Ai, she is something else!”

  “You don’t know the half of it, minha amigu.”

  Sandralene got back from her sortie around the lake, and we met by the water’s edge. Flashing on my moment of temptation earlier in the day, I winced at the memory of how close I had come to succumbing.

  Sandralene plopped down in a lawn chair, weary from bushwhacking through a mile and a half of woods and back. I stood beside her, anxious for her report. “Stan says you’re doing great, Glen. Just don’t let down your guard. He doesn’t think there’s much he can offer, except this. When it gets dark, he’s going to come right to the edge of the property and keep watch from behind those bushes next to the garage. If anything goes screwy, he says, just send for him. He doesn’t want to blow the deal, but he doesn’t want anyone getting hurt, either.”

  “That’s generous,” I said. “But it’s a little late to stop anyone from getting hurt.”

  47

  I had expected Nancarrow, with his lord-of-the-manor sensibilities, to swagger boldly and proudly out of Rushlow and Digweed’s unit the morning after, strutting his status, allure, and sexual prowess. But he had been surprisingly tactful and low-key about the whole matter. It made sense, for a man used to keeping up his public image. Whatever his less-savory private indulgences, he still had to maintain his pillar-of-the-community persona as developer, contributor to charities, socialite, and friend to the rich and powerful.

  Rather than assemble en masse, the six orgiasts had come in separately, starting around ten o’clock, after the kids and most of the adults were tucked into their tasteful, well-made Brenda Bethune beds. The wanton revelry had not blown any shutters off, thanks in part to the cinder-block construction of the rooms, paired with the sound-damping hangings from Aphrodite Fabric Creations on the shared walls. About the only outward sign of the proceedings had been the delivery to the unit of the remaining champagne, on ice. And when the carousing finally wound down, around 5:00 a.m., Nancarrow had escorted Vee back to her room, away from prying eyes, before returning for whatever last decadent spasms were to be had.

  I tried to feel sorry for the only two innocent participants: our kitchen staff members Irina and Litzy. But in the end, I couldn’t summon up too much pity for them. Though oblivious to the evil nature of the three men they were consorting with, they were no babes in the woods and had entered into the affair willingly, looking for thrills unavailable to them back in Centerdale, under the censorious eyes of family and community.

  I had such detailed knowledge because I had spent the night in the bushes with Stan, monitoring all the comings and goings.

  * * *

  I joined him there around nine thirty. I carried a couple of brisket sandwiches and some bottled drinks—but nothing alcoholic, not even a beer. Approaching the shrubbery from behind—rhododendrons, I think, with woody stems and big, flat leaves and, mercifully, no thorns—I squirmed into the center of the growth. There, the space opened up a little to provide a decent line of sight to the two main residential wings extending from either side of the office.

  Of course, Stan had heard me coming, though he said nothing while I worked my way in. Though it was hard to make out the big guy’s features in the thin starlight and spillage from the distant exterior light fixtures, I thought I detected a wry smile. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and I realized again how much I had come to rely on his presence. I felt reassured that maybe we could bring this crazy plot off.

  He greeted me silently with a mock punch to the jaw, then snatched up a sandwich.

  “Fresh grub!” he whispered. “You rock, Glen boy! You don’t know how sick I am of cold canned beans. And it’s starting to get cold nights.”

  “You can have mine, too,” I said. “Not much appetite.”

  Speaking around mouthfuls, Stan said, “This action with Vee getting you down, huh? Pretty skeevy, I admit. But if she’s willing and it’s working, then we can’t afford to suddenly let our scruples queer the deal. Just gotta take it in stride.”

  “I suppose so. I just wish there had been another way.”

  “Listen, kid. With a guy like Nancarrow, there are three ways to get past his defenses: profit, pride, and pussy. You’re stroking his pride, and he’s convinced himself that the profit angle is solid. And Vee is providing the sex. We mighta relied on just the first two avenues. But it’s like a stool with three legs versus two. This way’s much more solid and secure.”

  “I guess.”

  “Shhh! Here comes Needles and Buck.”

  The two toughs entered their room, and the other participants trickled in over the next half hour.

  “Okay,” said Stan, “you can go now. Get some sleep so you can be fresh for the big play tomorrow.”

  “I’ll stick around. I want to make sure nothing goes wrong and no one gets hurt.”

  “Leave that to me.”

  “No. I feel responsible for all this.”

  “You’re not gonna change your mind?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, then, you’re gonna need these if you wanna stay sharp.”

  Stan held out a grimy palm, and I could make out two gelcaps.

  “What’s that?”

  “Adderall. Keeps you flying high and wide-eyed, but smooth. Take one now and one in the morning.”

  “I thought we were finished with drugs.”

  “Pfft! I said I was done with smack. This stuff is candy. Every other college kid scarfs ’em by the handful.”

  I sighed. “Well, all right.” I swallowed the first pill, and we settled into our guard duty.

  Sometime after midnight, feeling wide awake and guilty, I said, “Stan, I’m sure Sandralene told y—”

  “Sandy don’t have to tell me nothing. The great and powerful Hasso knows all. So I will surely be aware in the future if you come sniffing around my woman uninvited. Besides, there is no way a skinny, weak bastard like you’s gonna be able to keep Nellie and Sandy both happy. Just focus on the bush of your own bird, if you get me.”

  “Okay, clear enough. But I just wanted to say—”

  “Will you shut up about your sex life for once so I can concentrate! Kee-rist, you’d think nobody ever done you a favor before.”

  I found myself grinning. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  The rest of the night passed in a strange fugue—a blend of alertness and a kind of dissociative state, where I seemed to be both watching the scene from behind my eyes,
and watching myself from outside my body.

  At last, the horizon beyond the lake began to show the faintest hint of dawn.

  “Okay,” Stan said, “I gotta get out of here before anyone spots me. But if you manage to pull this off today, I’ll be back before much longer. And then we’re outta here permanent-like. Good luck.”

  Stan decamped with uncommon stealth for a man his size.

  I watched Nancarrow deliver Vee back to her room at 5:00 a.m. and then rejoin his pals. I eased out of the bushes and returned to my own quarters. Ray Zerkin slept the sleep of an innocent lamb. I used the shower and got dressed nicely, popped the second amphetamine capsule, and went out.

  Much to my surprise, I felt confident and at ease. Maybe being with Stan had charged me up, or maybe it was just the drug. Whatever the cause, I seemed to have tapped into some cosmic Tao, to ride the surging forces of fate, that famously unstoppable power over the affairs of men. The last time I had felt like this was at the apex of my thieving career, on the day I convinced a supposedly savvy businessman to invest two million dollars in my absurd Ponzi scheme. Now I only had to rake in ten times that amount, and all would be perfect. Incredibly, I felt as if it would be no trouble at all. As we slid closer to cool October, our occupancy rate had gone down. And this being Monday, people had departed already to get back to jobs and schools. So the dining hall, with its big windows shut against the chill, had only a handful of diners. We quit serving breakfast at eleven, so I was counting on Nancarrow and company to show by then. I ate and then puttered about while waiting for them to make an appearance.

  Irina and Litzy, having worked all weekend, had today off from their kitchen duties, and I’m sure they were appreciating the holiday at the moment.