Did they all attend some training school together? "I told you, I don't negotiate debt." He tried not to notice the softening of her features and the pucker of her lips.

"I'm trying to make this work for both of us." She said. "I'm not looking to have trouble with you, but you can't just take aim at somebody else because you missed your original target." She took a cigarette from her case and held it up for a light. Bernie chewed on that for a moment and delayed comment by applying his lighter to her cigarette.

Cynthia blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling and tapped the ash from her cigarette with a long slender finger. Her head came forward and the web of hair slid over one side of her face. "I had hoped we might come to another arrangement. I know money is simply your currency for power." She tapped her cigarette again and tossed her head provocatively. "There are other currencies used in negotiating."

Bernie picked up his glass and twirled it by the stem, watching the red liquid come precariously close to the rim. "Mrs. Wyatt, let's enjoy dinner first before I respond to that."

●○●○●○●○●

"Careful, careful! The ribs were broken you know." Julie pinched her face into an apology and arranged the pillows behind Carleton's head with her free hand. Carleton had spent one final night in hospital, finally being released back to his room at the Dunbar into Julie's care. "Ahhh, god, it's good to be out of that hospital."

Julie sat on the side of the bed, leaning on one stiff arm. "Carly, I'm so sorry; it was a rotten thing to do. I can't imagine why he cares any more."

"I think he made it clear that he doesn't. You and I are now are his new source of funds, which by the way I put up yesterday as the first payment."

"What are we going to do? We can't let Reg¾"

Watching her grope for words, Carleton was considering Julie in a different light. The whole package was very appealing, but when he examined each component separately, it somehow lost some lustre. How had this all happened? How did he get himself into such a mess? Stupid question, Smithee, it happened because you wanted some available, attractive and enthusiastic white ass! Lawrence was right. And now you have the threat of exposure hanging over you. He sighed aloud, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his knuckles.

"¾get away with this. We'd be ruined!"

"I believe I'm the one who would be ruined," he said unkindly, "you would just be displaced."

Julie looked at him with surprise. "Excuse me? Displaced? I would bloody well be out on the street facing the scorn of my family and friends for having an affair with- with-" She waved her hand at him in frustration.

"Yes? With, with what, Miss scorned housewife?" Carleton began to bristle at the implication of her unfinished statement.

"You know what I mean, Carleton. I don't have to say it." The reply was contrite.

"Oh yes you do! Arrrgh... damn!" His sudden move aggravated the broken ribs, and he sank back on the pillow, panting in pain.

Julie quickly slipped off the sling, which was mostly for show now, and placed a damp cloth on his forehead, leaning close, her face filled with concern. "Oh, Carly, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, it's just- it's just a- well you know..." She wriggled closer and wiped his brow tenderly. "We've got to do something to protect ourselves before this whole thing blows up in our faces."

"The blow-up has occurred already. I've already had Jarmon released as your husband demanded. Lawrence will set the hounds on me if he finds out - when, more likely. We're the ones with something to hide now, and I don't see much of the money needed coming from you."

"Maybe we should take a more proactive position. Like contacting Reg's gangster friend and doing a deal." She ignored his slight, and focused intently on his face to read any response to her words.

He looked horrified. "Another deal? The last one worked well, didn't it."

"I meant with the top man, not a thug." A hand crept beneath the sheet, progressing cautiously over his warm, bare thigh.

"Don't start, Julie." A sad eye opened and sought hers. "What did you mean, proactive?"

"If we let Reg do this to us now, it will never end. Trust me; I know Reg. But if we use his debt problem with those gangsters to neutralize his threat..."

"How? Just how the bloody hell would we do that?"

"Tell them he has money and he's planning to skip out." Julie beamed at him.

"You must think I'm nuts, woman."

She withdrew her hand and patted his leg through the sheet. "Remember you said that you would be disgraced but I would only be displaced? Well, my dear, I can survive being displaced." The inference wasn't lost, and Carleton began to lose his confidence.

He stared at the covers, his mind racing for some conclusion, some escape from his dilemma. When she stood and moved to the door, reminding him that her husband would milk him for life, he abruptly saw his solution. The decision swirled with obvious disquiet across his face as he watched Julie watching him.

Once on this road, the distance is irrelevant.

●○●○●○●○●

The deal with Cynthia Wyatt had been easier than expected; he was ready to quit fooling around with Reg anyway, in spite of the new payment promises. Reg would be dealt with down the road; this was just a fortuitous bit of icing.

He pushed aside the unwelcome memories of similar behaviour, feeling better prepared and more secure. Perks were important and he'd be damned if he went through all this grief and abstained. Cynthia would pay - both ways.

Bernie pulled the sash on his robe tight and took a deep draw on his cigar. He chuckled in the silence of his apartment and watched his exhalation of smoke explode against the glass of his panoramic window. The trill of the telephone brought him out of his reverie, and he crossed to the couch, sitting and picking up the receiver.

"I'm here."

"Mr. Bonducci?"

"Who's this?"

"Could we avoid names for a moment while I run something past you, something you're already connected to?"

"Call me back in five minutes at this number." Bernie hung up and went to a cupboard in his office and removed another phone, throwing a switch on the side that would prevent any electronic eavesdropping. When it rang he answered again.

"Talk."

"Mr. Bonducci, I have some information you might be interested in having on Reg Devers... and his wife."