The Price You Pay Page 5
Get a good grip and bite down. One. Two. Three. Chomp and twist, spit. Repeat. Broken teeth hurt. They’re fixed not healed. Call it an even trade. Between me and my teeth that is. Oliver is having a shit day. A day of shit. He’s just all kinds of unhappy about this, visually he’s gone from a wide Tom Cruise vibe to maybe if he’s lucky one day cool scars like Tony Amendola in a second and a half. Plus you know: mouthwash in his open wounds. Stings like a motherfucker.
Yeah he’s doing lots of screaming and yelling. Bellowing like a water buffalo: MOOO MAAAAH MOOO! UNNGH MOOO! Yeah guy whatever. Get your Discovery Channel on man everyone will understand. And now I really am hugging him because hey this is a professional situation. Not like there’s any need to be a monster about it. There you go man let it out.
MOOO MAAAAAH AHHHH MNOOOMOO.
Yeah that’s easy for you to say.
(Although pretty clearly he’s actually having a lot of trouble. Life man it’s a pisser.)
Blood all over my shirt. Quick swill of mouthwash from my flask, spit on the carpet. Very important when fighting with the teeth to maintain good hygiene standards, you wouldn’t want to pick up anything nasty. All serious bar fighters brush their teeth regularly to be sure to avoid gum disease and so on. I like to go that mile and be sure about stuff like hepatitis although you know you wouldn’t expect that from a guy like Oliver but I mean hep C man it’s the silent killer.
Toss the flask back in the case and snap the clips shut because that’s what businessmen do. Check the mirror. White shirt red. Excellent. Straighten my tie. See what I did there? No, course not. Because the hand deceives the eye is what. You’re too busy looking at the blood to appreciate the fine details. Business is all about the details.
Temp assistant comes in. Hi, Dorothy. Mr. Price to see Mr. Linden he is right now expecting me.
Yes sir I believe he is.
GIVE LINDEN SOME CREDIT, he’s pretty cool about it. He knows Dorothy is outside on the phone to the cops, figures he needs to buy time: So Mr. Price what can I do for you?
Well, okay, here’s the thing. There was a misunderstanding recently involving violence.
I hardly call what happened just now—
No not that. That was all me. Forward me a bill for Oliver’s medical okay? He seems nice.
Big smile: my clean teeth, all like rock strata.
No Mr. Linden, I’m referring to a few nights ago when some gentlemen in the employ of someone to whom you are professionally connected mistakenly broke into my apartment and beat me down to my carpet and generally got in my face quite literally in my face. You will get that I disapprove. You will apprehend my general aura of disapproval.
Linden nods.
I cannot be doing with this Mr. Linden.
Nod.
But here’s the thing, this was a crossed wire and I get that. Okay? I am a reasonable sort of person and I get that. Your connection—no please Mr. Linden unfortunately one of the gentlemen who disarranged my nose made the questionable decision to call your office direct to indicate that his obligations had been discharged and I chanced to overhear sir yes I have made something of a hobby of recognising numbers from tones Mr. Linden and sir that all is information I have not confided to the police. Let us not say it was your client who arranged this because I understand you would immediately have to say it was not your client but your connection who tragically and mishappily used your innocent office as a relay for criminal business on the night in question, through no fault of yours. That person—your connection—took me for the sort of guy you warn off. I am not that sort of guy Mr. Linden. I was asking questions about Didi Fraser, because she lived in my building and I did not like her but she was kind of a part of the landscape do you understand? Like a touchstone for my private life, so I wanted to know what had happened to her. Now, this upset your connection who is not necessarily your client let’s proceed on that basis. And they took an action they will now no doubt regard as precipitate, not to say rude, and you know I think it’s pretty clear now that I am not someone to whom you address yourself in that way. I trust that is indeed clear. Excellent. And yet Mr. Linden that is not my jam sir it is not my Tao it is not my way of being in the world my Urgeist whatever. It is not that. I express a preference for the deal Mr. Linden over the closed fist I think that’s clear enough and yet here we all are. And the whole thing has that air of going to shit. But I am a reasonable man and I am content that we should have a little what you might call restorative justice. Okay? I will even start the ball rolling I will take care of Oliver’s medical bill. So I recognise that these things happen and that anyone can make a mistake. Would I be right in thinking that your firm specialises in managing discrete facets of the estates of the wealthy? I don’t mean like comfortable I mean like oh I’m bored let’s buy a country wealthy?
That would be an accurate assessment.
What I thought. In fact I happen to maintain a sort of a list of the kinds of people who do business with firms like yours is it possible you have a client named Driskol who basically inherited a lot of apartheid diamond mines back in the day? Real elderly fucker? Or another named Barnes who has only one leg who made his money one of those times in the last century when the very rich fucked the very poor in the eyeholes?
I couldn’t say Mr. Price.
Great poker face man.
I couldn’t say Mr. Price.
So okay Mr. Linden let’s talk about my situation which is that I was struck. I was struck repeatedly and indeed my nose was broken and this has ruined the line of my face in a particular way which for personal reasons I am very unhappy about. In fact there are approximately fifty locations upon my body where damage was done. I believe it would be appropriate if we were to set a price on them as a collection.
That seems reasonable enough.
Understand: I do still wish to know about Didi Fraser, but I will waive that as a courtesy. This is all about courtesy now Mr. Linden. It is about two predatory animals stepping courteously around one another in the forest because neither of them entirely knows what the other one is capable of. It may be that one of us is a bear and the other is an elk, or it may be that we are both wolves or that one of us is a crocodile. Perhaps one of us is an animal for which science presently has no name. There is simply no way for either of us to be sure of that at this time. As our interests have never intersected before it is safe enough to assume that we operate on discrete strata or in different sectors and therefore our present conflict is an anomaly. There is no reason for it to persist so long as we are courteous.
I agree.
So what I would propose is that you pay me one million for each of my bruises, making a round total of fifty, and we will go our separate ways in the forest without further conflict, and of course I will forget entirely that Didi Fraser ever existed. And I will pay for Oliver’s ear. We should conclude our discussions relatively quickly because the police will be here shortly and I don’t think we should want to pursue our matter through the filter of their excitation.
I cannot do very much about the police, Mr. Price.
I will happily take care of that on my own behalf, Mr. Linden, so long as you undertake to be muted in your description of events. Perhaps you might even arrange to lose the security camera footage.
That would leave us with the amount, Mr. Price, which I think is high.
Do you Mr. Linden?
I do, Mr. Price.
Would you care—in the interest of a continuing courteous negotiation—to make a counter-offer?
I would say that twenty would be quite sufficient.
Four hundred thousand per bruise seems paltry to me Mr. Linden. Perhaps we might say twenty as a blood gilt with a further thirty million in specific reference to my nose and the emotional trauma that entails.
You misunderstood me, I am afraid, Mr. Price. Twenty. Not twenty million
.
Ah Mr. Linden. I did indeed misunderstand you. Very well. I will leave my offer on the table until midnight.
Our response will not change.
Let’s see what happens at midnight Mr. Linden. The world is composed of change after all. Goodbye Mr. Linden.
I’m curious, Mr. Price, as to how you will leave the building without encountering the police.
Oh Mr. Linden. Why should I wish to avoid the police?
YOU’RE UNDER ARREST.
Yes thank you.
You have the right—and la la la.
Get ready to meet and greet.
IN THE PRECINCT HOUSE and Leo is watching me on a crappy TV demonstrate Jack’s theory of perceptual issues that I am right now addressing the shit out of to the viewing public.
Jesus fucking shitstick Price. Oh Jesus is that an ear?
Mostly lobe man it’s nothing.
That is fucking cartilage motherfucker.
No wait no that’s just—oh yeah no Leo you’re totally right it is my bad. Yep. That’s yeah but there’s definitely no drum in that I have seen one—
Shut up shut—
Thing about lawyers’ offices is that they record the video but not the sound for pretty obvious reasons. So the video shows me talking to Oliver and then him getting up and walking towards me, and I step back but I cannot leave the room, and then he gets out an illegal weapon and I swill some mouthwash and rip his ear off. So while I come out of it looking a little insane, I do not necessarily look like a criminal and they will be saying that to themselves in the office back at Linden Carver right now and they will be firing Oliver (sorry man but there you are and I really will pay for that reconstructive work) and the cops will be looking at it and they will be saying—
Price! What the fuck, man?
Sorry Leo.
So yeah Leo is this cop. Leo is this corrupt cop that I know. Actually that I pay. Leo is my cop and therefore in fact Leo is not a cop he is a criminal pretending to be a cop as the core of his illegitimate revenue stream but that is not how he sees it and there’s no percentage in telling him otherwise so I don’t. Leo is presently trying to work out how the fuck he will explain not arresting the shit out of me in his report. Leo obviously wants to punch me repeatedly in the face. Except that Leo thinks he is a cop so he cannot punch me in the face while I am being really polite.
That is Leo’s life. Don’t be sad for Leo. His life makes him very rich. Also he is a hero because he has the best sources on legacy drug industry players—that is to say my competitors—anyone has ever seen. Leo is an ace investigator except in so far as I just tell him what’s going on and Leo goes and shoots it in the line of duty or puts it on trial and I pay him.
I am telling Leo that I am very sorry I bit a guy in the face but there were circumstances. Leo is trying not to find this funny. I like Leo. Also he can’t stop himself finding this funny because it slightly is.
For fuck’s sake Price.
Sorry Leo.
You’re not covered for this, you know that right?
I know that Leo. I’ll make it up.
You’re damn right you will. Fucking bite a guy’s ear off in a lawyer’s office what even is that?
Personal matter. I’m taking care of the ear thing.
The fuck happened to your nose man?
Personal matter.
Same personal matter we’re talking about here?
I think so.
Fuck’s sake.
I know, man, what can I tell you? I got beat down for no good reason, went to discuss the matter in a civilised fashion but no takers. Restorative justice, Leo, is what I was offering. I went to make nice even though this whole thing with my nose is really—you know how I feel about the nose Leo we have discussed it.
Yes, Price, I do know and yes I recall that we have talked about it but even so have you seen what you did to this Oliver guy. This is a goatfuck.
One hundred thousand.
Two.
One fifty.
Plus expenses.
One sixty all in, I’ll buy the drinks.
Okay.
Okay?
Okay.
So how?
Fuck if I know how yet?
Easiest thing is you violate my rights.
Get fired for that, man.
You got plenty cops you don’t need.
Bunch of rookies, sure, no shortage, but the union—
Oh fine you’re breaking my heart. One seven five all in, and I’ll find gainful for the patsy. Construction, manscaping, whatever.
Manscaping? What the fuck are you talking about Price? Go from a cop to shaving guys’ balls what even is that?
It pays.
How much?
When I tell him, Leo says fuck again and again like a metronome until my lawyer comes in.
HEY SARAH.
Hey Jack.
Sarah is a lawyer. She is not like Leo. She is a real person who believes in things like honesty and right action and legal representation for bad people. She believes in things like ethics which is why Sarah has a penny-ante practice in a terrible office. Sarah does not like me but I need her and so she feels an obligation. I do like Sarah and she knows this and it makes her unhappy. I pay Sarah more than all her other clients put together and this pays for the ones who cannot afford her and she kind of hates me for that and kind of does not.
It’s complicated. I say:
Nice to see you Sarah.
You ate a guy.
I bit off one tiny bit of a guy it’s not like—anyway it was mostly lobe.
Leo told me.
Thanks for getting me out.
You got yourself out. I just said Miranda like eighty-two times. Was it expensive?
Thanks for coming along and saying Miranda like eighty-two times.
You’re welcome.
You want to go for a drink and celebrate how elegantly you said Miranda like eighty-two times?
No Jack.
Want to just go for a drink?
No.
I’m a little bit in love with you Sarah.
I’m a little bit not Jack but it’s nice of you to say.
Is it?
No actually it isn’t but I know you’re trying.
Thank you Sarah.
Good night Jack.
Sarah has these cheekbones that should be illegal, some Swedish Haitian Lebanese mojo whateverthefuck that does things inside me that I don’t control. I read where it’s about your immune system that wants to meet another system that has complementary skills. I don’t know. What I am wants Sarah. What Sarah is does not want me. Thus: pain.
BACK AT MY PLACE, NO SARAH. No Sarah now or ever because she knows exactly what I am. I should let her go but when I try she gives me the smile and I honestly do not know if she does that because I pay for her other clients or because somewhere in between us there is something that could be something.
No Sarah. Never mind. I have work. Work is always there.
It’s ten thirty-one. Linden has an hour and twenty-nine minutes to come back to me. I went high he went low it’s the normal course of business. In fact Linden’s probably out of the decision loop by now. Now I’m dealing with the client and we’ll see. If it was me I’d pause and take stock and I’d want to see if there was business to be done. I’ll take my fifty million in trade. Most-favoured nation, access. I don’t need fifty million. I’m not an expensive person and I live alone. I don’t even know how much I already have. Lots. Enough. The issue is perceptual like I said. Point is that I’m seen to come out richer. That’s the key. Whatever happens, Jack comes out ahead which is why you want to work with him not against.
Make a call. Encrypted VoIP call, delocaliser service, clean handset. Basic comms hygiene these days.
Kto tam?
Hey, sister.
Jack Price?
Karenina is security. She’s ex one of those Russian satellite states, used to do whatever demented and insane shit those tiny outfits had to do to keep from getting KGB’d or FSB’d or Spetsnaz’d back into the Moscow egg basket. Mother Russia does not fledge. She likes to keep her chickies.
Karenina: fifty-five and looks forty but silver, fists like pale hams. Got skills in all kinds of areas, computers and some Estonian street judo thing.
I say low and gravelly like in a spy movie: Da.
Snorting at my Russian voice: You sound constipated, don’t ever say that again it hurts my ears. What is shaking Jack?
Karenina I’m looking to employ you for a short period. Rough and tumble. Weapons-free starting at midnight.
Nyeh. Cannot do it Jack, I am from two days back exploring a new collaboration that is delicate.
You went into business with someone else? Karenina I’m hurt.
Is not local Jack is long-term work mostly overseas. Very prestigious so I figure what the hell and also is still try-out. Maybe we are good fit maybe not.
Can you say who or is that uncool?
No is perfectly cool, we advertise. Actually you want maybe we are available.
I don’t need a whole outfit.
Never can be sure of that in business Jack.
So who?
Is Seven Demons. Pretty fucking cool.
Get the fuck out of here.
Completely on the level-and-up.
Seven Demons for real? The bank job in Budapest?
Was never proved.
Okay but the hit in Krong Angkor?
Yes, was us. Them. Now also me. You know also the London Underground thing last year?