Chapter 12

He was a big man wearing a Palm Beach suit. His face was round, and his nose was broad, almost set against his face as if someone had punched and flattened it. He didn't get up as Terry Scott entered Gall's office but nodded his head pleasantly as Gall said: "Terry Scott, this is Elvis. Elvis is my boss."

Terry nodded his head.

"Sit down," Gall said.

Terry sat. He shook his head when Gall extended a humidor. Gall took a long slim cigar from the box and lit it.

"I always welcome new members," Elvis said. "You're British, aren't you?"

"Yes," Terry said.

"And you're also a very careful man," Elvis observed. "How so?" Terry said.

"The opium," said Elvis. "I know about the opium; Hans Krakalow passed the information on. It's only natural that we try to get a complete shake down on you. Or as complete as we can. We can't know everything."

"You wouldn't be interested in the hop," Terry said. "You have your own little racket."

"Your interests are our interests," Elvis said. "We have no wish to cut ourselves in, that's true. On the other hand, for a small percentage, we can be of some service."

"How do you mean?"

"You're in this country to sell the stuff," Elvis said.

"All right, suppose we find you a buyer?"

"I have a buyer."

"I don't know what arrangements you have with this person," Elvis said, "but I'm sure that we can find someone who will top his offer, whatever that offer may be."

"The deal has been arranged," Terry said adamantly.

Elvis shrugged his massive shoulders. "You mean to say you're an honorable man? There was a trace of amusement on his face. He studied Terry with shrewd eyes.

"Strange, isn't it?"

"Very. But I'm sure, with the proper inducement, you can overcome that sickness."

"Meaning?" Terry said dryly.

"I hope you don't think I was threatening you," Elvis said. "I was talking about money. Bigger men than you have been persuaded by that green stuff. Isn't that why we exist? To make money? To enjoy life and life's pleasures? Money makes the world go round, my friend. After all, if you can get a better deal, why not take advantage?"

"I'll have to think about it."

"Of course," Elvis said. "And the decision will be yours. We are also honorable men, in a fashion. We could have silenced you permanently and taken possession of the stuff. But no, that is not the way we do things. We have a reputation. So the decision is yours."

"And if I do business with this friend of yours?" Terry said. "What's your cut?"

"A mere ten per cent," Elvis said. "A trifle."

"And ten per cent from your friend?" Terry guessed.

Elvis laughed. "You are a shrewd one. Yes, you have me there. But it's all business. You can't lose. In fact, no one loses."

"Well, I'll let you know," Terry said.

"There's no hurry," Elvis said. "You're registered with us for ten days."

Terry got to his feet.

"Want a drink before you go?" Gall asked.

"No, thanks. I've a cabinet full of booze."

"We do take care of our guests," Elvis said. "Liquor and women. And safety."

Gall got to his feet and opened the door for Terry.

"Good night, Mr. Scott," Elvis called out.

"Good night," Terry said, and walked out

When Terry closed the door to his room, Marsha was on her knees in front of him. She had unzipped his trousers and had his malehood in her mouth before he could even say hello.

They never made it to the bed for the rest of the night.