'Salem's Lot(23)

'What sort of business? Murder Incorporated?'

Straker smiled coldly. 'A perfectly ordinary furniture business, I am afraid. With a line of rather special antiques for collectors. My partner is something of an expert in that field.'

'Shit,' Larry said crudely. 'The Marsten House you could have for eight and a half grand, the shop for sixteen. Your partner must know that. And you both must know that this town can't support a fancy furniture and antique place.'

'My partner is extremely knowledgeable on any subject in which he becomes interested,' Straker said. 'He knows that your town is on a highway which serves tourists and summer residents. These are the people with whom we expect to do the bulk of our business. However, that is no accord to you. Do you find the papers in order?'

Larry tapped his desk with the blue folder. 'They seem to be. But I'm not going to be horse-traded, no matter what you say you want.'

'No, of course not.' Straker's voice was edged with well-bred contempt. 'You have a lawyer in Boston, I believe. One Francis Walsh.'

'How do you know that?' Larry barked.

'It doesn't matter. Take the papers to him. He will confirm their validity. The land where this shopping center is to be built will be yours, on fulfillment of three con?ditions.'

'Ah,' Larry said, and looked relieved. 'Conditions.' He leaned back and selected a William Penn from the ceramic cigar box on his desk. He scratched a match on shoe leather and puffed. 'Now we're getting down to the bone. Fire away.'

'Number one. You will sell me the Marsten House and the business establishment for one dollar. Your client in the matter of the house is a land corporation in Bangor. The business establishment now belongs to a Portland bank. I am sure both parties will be agreeable if you make up the difference to the lowest acceptable prices. Minus your commission, of course.'

'Where do you get your information?'

That is not for you to know, Mr Crockett. Condition two. You will say nothing of our transaction here today. Nothing. If the question ever comes up, all you know is what I have told you - we are two partners beginning a business aimed at tourists and summer people. This is very important.'

'I don't blab.'

'Nonetheless, I want to impress on you the seriousness of the condition. A time may come, Mr Crockett, when you will want to tell someone of the wonderful deal you made on this day. If you do so, I will find out. I will ruin you. Do you understand?'

'You sound like one of those cheap spy movies,' Larry said. He sounded unruffled, but underneath he felt a nasty tremor of fear. The words I will ruin you had come out as flatly as How are you today. It gave the statement an unpleasant ring of truth. And how in hell did this joker know about Frank Walsh? Not even his wife knew about Frank Walsh.

'Do you understand me, Mr Crockett?'

'Yes,' Larry said. 'I'm used to playing them close to the vest.'

Straker offered his thin smile again. 'Of course. That is why I am doing business with you.'

'The third condition?'

'The house will need certain renovations.'

'That's one way of puttin' it,' Larry said dryly.

'My partner plans to carry this task out himself. But you will be his agent. From time to time there will be requests. From time to time I will require the services of whatever laborers you employ to bring certain things either to the house or to the shop. You will not speak of such services. Do you understand?

'Yeah, I understand. But you don't come from these parts, do you?'

'Does that have bearing?' Straker raised his eyebrows

'Sure it does. This isn't Boston or New York. It's not going to be just a matter of me keepin' my lip buttoned. People are going to talk. Why, there's an old biddy over on Railroad Street, name of Mabel Werts, who spends all day with a pair of binoculars - '

'I don't care about the townspeople. My partner doesn't care about the townspeople. The townspeople always talk. They are no different from the magpies on the telephone wires. Soon they will accept us.'

Larry shrugged. 'It's your party.'

'As you say,' Straker agreed. 'You will pay for all ser?vices and keep all invoices and bills. You will be reim?bursed. Do you agree?'

Larry was, as he had told Straker, used to playing them close to the vest, and he had a reputation as one of the best poker players in Cumberland County. And although he had maintained his outward calm through all of this, he was on fire inside. The deal this crazyman was offering him was the kind of thing that came along once, if ever. Perhaps the guy's boss was one of those nutty billionaire recluses who  -

'Mr Crockett? I am waiting.'

'There are two conditions of my own,' Larry said.

'Ah?' Straker looked politely interested.

He rattled the blue folder. 'First, these papers have to check out.'

'Of course.'

'Second, if you're doing anything illegal up there, I don't want to know about it. By that I mean - '

But he was interrupted. Straker threw his head back and gave vent to a singularly cold and emotionless laugh.

'Did I say somethin' funny?' Larry asked, without a trace of a smile.

'Oh . . . ah . . . of course not ' Mr Crockett. You must pardon my outburst. I found your comment amusing for reasons of my own. What were you about to add?'