Sorcerer

by Greg F. Gifune

  “Did you hear what I just said?” Jeff blocked his way. “I need to talk to you, man. I’m in some serious shit.”

  “Yeah, I…” Craig nervously ran a hand up over his face, across the top of his head and down to the back of his neck. “I gathered, but I can’t.”

  “You gathered?”

  “Just leave me out of it. This has nothing to do with me.”

  “What happened? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Look, whatever it is you’re mixed up in, I want nothing to do with these people. I want no part of this.”

  Fear crawled up Jeff’s back and nested at the base of his skull. Hope and his people were going after his friends now? This was insane. How did they even know about Craig?

  The application…the reference…

  “I don’t believe this,” he muttered. “This cannot be happening.”

  Craig tried to get around him then thought better of it. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into—and I don’t want to know—just leave me alone, OK?”

  “Leave you alone? What the hell are you talking about? Did someone threaten you? What happened?”

  “Please, I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Craig’s mouth twitched uncontrollably. “I have a wife, I—I’ve got kids.” He leaned closer. “Children, you hear me?”

  “Who frightened you like this? What did they do? I need to know.”

  “I can’t talk to you, I—they could be watching right now, they—they told me they were watching.”

  “Who did?”

  “You tell me. What’s wrong with you? You’re working with these people? I know times are tough but—”

  “No, I’m working with you, remember?”

  Craig tried to shoulder by. “I have to go.”

  “Hey,” Jeff said, grabbing his arm. “I am working with you, right?”

  “They told me you worked for them. I’m not about to interfere with that.”

  “I need that job, Craig, don’t—”

  “Goddamn it!” He yanked his arm free, dropped the suitcase and squared his stance. “I didn’t want a scene in front of Katy and the kids. Just let me go before this gets out of hand.”

  “What are you going to do, hit me? You’re my best friend.”

  “Get out of my way, Jeff. Please.”

  “I need your help. I’ve got nowhere else to turn.”

  “They said they’d hurt my family. My family, do you understand?”

  “Jesus Christ,” he sighed, hands on his head. “I’m sorry, I never meant for any of this to touch you. I fucked up. Bad. Real bad. I got into something I didn’t mean to and—I don’t even understand what’s happening myself or how you got involved, but—”

  “I’m not involved.” He picked up the suitcase. “I’m sorry too. I really am. But you’re on your own on this one.”

  Jeff watched as Craig walked to the car, tossed the suitcase in the trunk then slid behind the wheel and pulled away. He never looked back.

  * * * *

  After a brief flirtation with calling the police and taking his chances with Hope delivering a copy of the disc to Eden, Jeff found himself standing on the curb in front of the brownstone where he’d been interviewed. Again, but for the burned-out shell at the end of the block, there were no other cars or signs of life, and the entire area seemed eerily quiet.

  He climbed the steps, moved through the door, past the foyer and stopped at the reception area. As before, the desk was unoccupied, the odd sound of a dripping faucet echoed from somewhere deep within the building, and the empty plastic chairs lined the narrow hallway to his right. But this time the first office door was open, as if in anticipation of his arrival. Jeff swallowed hard. Except for the meeting table and two chairs, the office was empty. No coffeemaker, no donuts, no clipboard with application. Clearly he was alone. Why then did he have the overwhelming feeling he was being watched? Skin crawling, he forced himself into the office, sat in the first chair and watched the closed door on the opposite wall. They knew he was here, Jeff was sure of it. They were just making him squirm, letting him twist in the wind a while at the end of his noose, and probably enjoying it.

  After several moments, the door opened and Foster Hope entered. This time his presence was intimidating. No longer was he simply an eccentric and elderly businessman, but something far more sinister. He was dressed in the same cream-colored suit as the day before, and Jeff imagined him having dozens of identical outfits hanging in a closet somewhere. The old man acknowledged him with a polite nod. “Good morning, Jeff.”

  “Why are you doing this to me? Who are you people?”

  “I’ve done nothing to you.” He slid into the other chair and crossed his legs. “These are decisions you’ve made to—”

  “What did you do to Craig? He was terrified out of his mind. I’ve never seen anyone so frightened. Why would you threaten his family, his children?”

  “I simply had an associate pass along some useful information to him, so he could make an informed decision.”

  Jeff’s hands clenched into fists but he kept them in his lap. The urge to strangle the old bastard was overwhelming. “This is all just some sort of sick game to you, isn’t it?”

  The look in Hope’s emerald eyes indicated he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Sick seems rather harsh, but otherwise, yes, that’s exactly what it is. Life is a game, Jeff, and we’re all players of one sort or another.”

  “These aren’t just my decisions then. You’re manipulating things, forcing me into corners where I have no other way out.”

  “There are always other ways out of any situation. We all move through the world and do what we have to do in order to survive and flourish. We look out for our best interests, and in the end we make our own decisions.” The green eyes narrowed. “Regardless of what I’ve done or haven’t done, you don’t have to be here. You’ve chosen to be here.”

  “Why would you want me to work for you under these conditions? Why would you videotape me with Jessica and—how the hell were you in that room without my knowing it? You and that other…man.”

  “I often hide in plain sight, Jeff. I find it most effective.”

  Jeff sat forward with an intense stare of his own, hands flat on the table between them. Despite the heat outside, the room was cool to the point of being nearly cold. Why then was he perspiring so? And how was the temperature so low when there were no fans and appeared to be no air-conditioning? Like everything else, none of it made any sense. “What do you want from me?”

  “I’d like to hire you on as a negotiator.”

  “No, you’re forcing me to work for you.”

  “You have every right to decline at any time. Have I chained you to that chair? Have you been restrained or in any way prevented from leaving? You can get up and walk out of here whenever you like. No one will attempt to stop you, no one will object. We’ll part as friends.”

  “Friends? Friends don’t blackmail and deceive each other.”

  “They don’t?” Mr. Hope smiled with his large, brilliantly white false teeth. “Jeff, what most people fail to realize in their narcissism and selfishness is that they’re not always players in their own games, but often in someone else’s.”

  “So it’s your game then,” Jeff said, pawing sweat from his forehead.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “That you might want to consider it may not be yours either.”

  Jeff couldn’t tell if there was literal meaning in what Hope was saying or if the old man was simply playing with him, so he dismissed his enigmatic musings and tried to focus on what he needed to do to bring the meeting to some sort of conclusion. He’d begun sweating like a stuck pig and needed to get out of there and away from this man. “If I agree to this…job…do I have to kill anyone?”

  “Certainly not.” Hope frowned dramatically. “How absurd.”

  “If I
have to hurt anyone, I won’t do it.” Jeff drew a deep breath, and despite his fear, looked him in the eye. “So if that’s what this is about you can go ahead and deliver a copy of that disc to Eden and I’ll just hope she can forgive me for being so stupid.”

  Hope folded his hands and placed them on the table. No bone-white talons, just manicured fingernails and a gold ring with a large ruby on the middle finger of his left hand. Had he worn that last time? “I’m offering you a position as a negotiator.”

  “Do I have to do anything illegal?”

  “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

  “How much do I get paid?”

  “I’ve told you,” he sighed, “enough to grant you financial freedom.”

  “I’d like an actual figure.”

  “It’s hard to put a price on one’s happiness, Jeff. Don’t you think? Trust me when I tell you it will be a sum beyond anything you’re expecting.”

  “And the discs?”

  “What about them?”

  “If I come to work for you, I want them turned over to me.”

  “Once you’ve completed your trial assignment successfully you and I will decide whether or not your continued employment here is the right move for both parties. Either way, the other copy of the disc, along with the original, will be yours to do with what you like. I’ll certainly no longer have any use for them.”

  “How do I know I can believe you?”

  Mr. Hope’s eyelids nearly closed, giving him a decidedly reptilian appearance. “You don’t.”

  “After the trial assignment, if I choose to no longer work for you, I can walk away free and clear? Even if you want me to continue?”

  “That is correct. I will accept and respect your decision at that point. And of course I’ll expect you to accept and respect mine.”

  “And you and your people will stay away from my family and friends?”

  “Of course, I don’t involve myself in situations where I’m not welcome.”

  Jeff looked away and nodded. “All right.”

  “You’re accepting the position then? We officially have a deal?”

  “We do.”

  “I need you to say the words, Jeff.”

  He bit his tongue until the anger and humiliation had weakened. “I am accepting the position,” he finally responded. “We officially have a deal.”

  “How exciting.” Foster Hope pulled a business-sized envelope from his inside jacket pocket and grinned like a demon. “Then let’s get to work.”

  * * * *

  Behind them, through the still open door, the incessant sound of a dripping faucet continued to echo, and from the far end of the hallway came what Jeff guessed was someone shuffling their feet as they walked, accompanied by occasional indecipherable voices, muffled and hushed. Somewhere in the building were others—Jessica, the mousy Ms. Gill and the tall man among them, he was sure—but there was something more…something menacing. He could feel it. Sorrow…pain…fear…all of it palpable and thickening the very air he breathed.

  “There’s a young man I had some business dealings with a few months ago,” Hope explained, his voice bringing Jeff back. “He agreed to pay me for certain services we provided, but when it came time to settle his account he double-crossed me. We’re relatively certain he’s here in the city, or at least he was as of this morning, but we’re not entirely sure where.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “You’re to find this man and convince him that it’s in his best interest to live up to his end of our business deal.”

  “If you and your people can’t find him, how am I supposed to?”

  Hope stared at him dully. “I never said we couldn’t find him.”

  Jeff sighed, stomach churning. “What’s the deal you had with him?”

  “That’s between us.” A bright chalky smile returned to his face. “Professional discretion, you understand.”

  “Mr. Hope, how am I supposed to convince him to do something if I have no idea what it is he’s supposed to do?”

  “He knows, Jeff. Your job is to simply convince him to come to me and do the right thing. To reopen our talks so that we can resolve these matters quickly and efficiently.”

  “Sounds like something you’d be more than capable of handling yourself.”

  “It is, but he’s refused to return my attempts to contact him. So this is a perfect first assignment for my newest negotiator.”

  “OK, then how do I find him?”

  Foster Hope nodded rather formally, as if to agree that the initial phase of their conversation had ended and it was time to move on to other things. He placed the envelope on the table and slid it over to Jeff. “Inside you will find information containing the man’s name, his wife’s name and their last known address. Far as we know the wife still lives there. He may as well but we can’t be sure at this point. Inside the envelope you’ll also find a private telephone number where I can be reached once the job has been completed, successfully or otherwise. You will call me at that number, you will be paid immediately thereafter and then we will both make our decisions regarding your future here.”

  Jeff left the envelope where it was. “And what if I can’t find this guy, much less convince him to contact you?”

  “Then you fail. But I believe that if you use your intelligence, instincts and skills as a salesman, you’ll be able to persuade him to do the right thing, the honorable thing.” He carefully combed a renegade strand of snow-white hair back from his forehead with a finger. “In all honesty, this is an easy assignment compared to most. Don’t want to give you too tall an order right out of the gates, especially without any formal negotiator training.”

  “And I do this alone?”

  “I am many things, Jeff. A fool is not one of them. Of course you’ll be observed, but you will work alone.” He arched an eyebrow. “Unless you feel you need supervision, in which case, I’d be more than happy to have Ms. Bell accompany you.”

  Jeff felt his face flush. “No, I…”

  “I thought not,” Hope said, laughing lightly. “This entire matter shouldn’t take more than a day to accomplish, so I want you to begin work tomorrow.”

  “Why not right away?”

  “Tomorrow morning. No sooner.”

  Don’t argue. Agree to the conditions and get the hell out of here. “OK.”

  “But I’ll expect to hear from you no later than tomorrow evening.”

  Nodding, Jeff picked up the envelope.

  “Any longer than that and I’ll have no choice but to assume something’s gone wrong, and then I’ll have to come looking for you.” The old man was no longer laughing, his eyes no longer sparkling. “And you don’t want that, Jeff, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he answered tensely, “I do.”

  “Then I look forward to hearing from you. Until then, good day to you.”

  Hardly.

  -8-

  At nightfall the city was still unbearably hot. After dinner Jeff collapsed into his favorite recliner and attempted to watch a baseball game but was unable to concentrate. The conversation he’d had with Mr. Hope replayed again and again in his mind, and although the entire scenario seemed fantastic at best, he realized all too well just how real this situation was. Clearly there was an illegal, underhanded and dangerous aspect to this whole thing, but if the pay was in cash, no one would know and he could walk away once he was done, he had no choice but to take the risk. What was the alternative? Letting his wife see him in that hotel room with Jessica?

  He knew he’d been infuriatingly aloof since Eden had gotten home from work, but he couldn’t talk to her about what was taking place. The only way for her to remain safe was to know nothing about any of this.

  She wandered in from the bedroom wearing only a long t-shirt. “You OK?”

  “I’m fine, honey.” God how I love her, he thought. What the hell was I thinking? The guilt was so strong he couldn’t even look at her.

  “Y
ou sure?”

  “Yeah, just a little tired.”

  “When I left for work this morning everything was great, but since I got home you’ve barely spoken to me and you’re moping around like you got some bad news or something. Is there a problem with the new job?”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “You’re not acting like everything’s—”

  “I just said everything’s fine, didn’t I?”

  “Then why are you in such a lovely mood?”

  “I’m sorry, I…” He forced a smile, aimed the remote at the TV and switched it off. “I told you, I’m just a little tired, OK? No biggie. Everything’s fine with the new job and everything else. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She sighed, and then as if she’d just remembered, jerked a thumb at the window and said, “Hey, he’s not out there tonight.”

  Jeff’s mind was so far away it took him a moment to realize who she was talking about. “I had a chat with him. I doubt he’ll be coming around anymore.”

  Eden sat on the edge of the recliner. “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him to stay the hell away from us and the building.”

  “Jesus, Jeff.” She scooped up a magazine from the coffee table and began fanning herself with it. “That’s awfully severe, don’t you think?”

  “Who gives a shit? He’s a bum, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Oh how charming.” Eden tossed the magazine aside. “So warm and kind, you know? Why do you have to be so cruel to him?”

  “What the hell is it with you and this guy?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jeff stood up. “Why are you so interested in him? It’s constant.”

  She watched him a moment then began to laugh. “Are you jealous?”

  “What is your fascination with him?” She balked, but he could tell he’d hit a nerve. “There are lots of homeless people in the city, why is he so special?”