Chapter 12
The last orange rays of sunlight fell upon two men strolling along the beach. One was tall and distinguished, the formality of his clothes somewhat out of keeping with the tropical scene. The other was of medium height, handsome and bronzed, his white shirt open to the waist to catch the cooling evening breeze.
From a distance they seemed to be getting along cordially enough, sauntering casually over the sand. But this was an illusion. Each was trying, really, to impress the other with an air of calmness. But there was no mistaking the high charge of electric tension that emanated from the two of them. It was admirably suppressed, but the quiet tones with which they spoke had edges of firm purpose that threatened to explode the evening silence at any moment.
The tall man was saying "How many more of them do you have?"
"About two dozen," the other replied. "And the one I showed you was mild compared to some of the others."
They walked a bit further without speaking, then the tall man said "Come now, Vic, you don't suppose I'm so naive as to have believed that Sparling wouldn't try something like this."
"Naivete is something I could never accuse you of, Clayboro."
"Then what makes you think I haven't prepared for it?"
"On the contrary, I'm willing to bet you have prepared for it."
"That's a correct assumption, for the most part. I can't really say I've prepared any counter-measures. But I did expect Sparling would try to blackmail me in some way. I didn't think he'd use incriminating photographs, in fact if I'd seen any photographers around I would have thought twice about coming. But then I'm sure Sparling figured on it, because he certainly did conceal them artfully."
"I'll go along with that," Vic said.
"But let me tell you why it wont work. Cigarette?" He offered a gold case to Vic.
"Thanks." He took one and Sparling held a matching gold lighter to it, then lit his own.
"It won't work for the same reason it hasn't worked in the past. You can imagine that it's been tried on me in the past."
"I can."
"But these people never seem to understand the nature of blackmail, which is that A has something on B, but B doesn't have anything on A, which means that A can make B pay through the nose, But if B also has something on A, then it's a stalemate, like two people pointing guns at each other-a Mexican standoff. Sparling has something on me-those photographs. But I also have something on him--a mountain of statistics about certain practices of his and other drug companies. Practices which the public certainly wouldn't take lightly. Sparling knows that if I go, he goes with me. Likewise I know that if he goes I'm likely to get knocked around in the fray, possibly ruined, possibly even jailed,"
"So you're not afraid of him because you know he's afraid of you."
"Yes, that's it."
"It wouldnt prevent you from calling an investigation, then?"
"Oh, I might think twice about it. It would depend on what Sparling and his friends offered me. A threat wouldn't be enough to stop me. An offer of holdings in these companies would, let's say, make me turn to some other area for amusement."
"Has he offered you any?"
"Some, but his gesture was rather modest."
"You want control," Vic said.
"Yes," Clayboro answered with blunt self-confidence.
"Sparling won't go that far, you know."
"If he were willing to make concessions in that direction I'd be inclined to take the pressure off."
"I think I can make him give you more."
"I'd be grateful to you."
"I'm sure you would. Now let's get back to the photographs."
"Certainly," Clayboro said, "but I don't really see what point there is in talking about them. Whatever Sparling offers me, the photographs will not be part of the deal. He'll hold them forever in his safe, and whenever I begin to rumble a bit he'll take them out and hold them over my head like a sword. Are you saying he'd be willing to part with them?"
"No. You're right, he'd never let them go-if he had them."
Clayboro frowned and his hand stroked his chin. "But he does have them. Or at least, you have them, and you're working for him." Then he looked suspiciously at Vic. "You are working for him, aren't you?"
"Now we come to the interesting part, Clayboro. The answer to that is yes-and no.' Vic glanced at him and noted his reaction. The muscles in his face tightened, his lips pursed, his brow wrinkled. Clayboro's mind had been thrown off balance by this startling development and Vic could almost feel it sending out feelers in a dozen different directions, exploring possible consequences of this new state of affairs.
"Go on," he said, giving Vic the initiative and himself a chance to plot a new course.
"Clayboro, I'm going to drop a little bomb in your lap, and I want you to know that I am completely sincere about this, and absolutely determined to get my way.
I've never been more determined, as a matter-of-fact, and I've accomplished some pretty big things with less determination."
Clayboro turned and looked Vic squarely in the eyes. "I believe it," he said.
"You had better. This is what I want to say: I do have loyalty to Sparling, silly ass that he is ,and to my company and to the industry. But there is something-somebody-I love more, and I love her to the extent that before any harm came to her I would bring the whole drug industry crashing to the ground, and you with it."
"That is a lot of love."
"That is indeed a lot of love, Clayboro," he answered with conviction.
"And who is this lucky creature on whom the fate of the empire rests?"
"Her name is Carmina. She is the daughter of the woman who owns this island, and the girl who caught your eye when you disembarked."
"Ah yes. The girl I asked Sparling to, uh...."
"Procure for you."
Clayboro nodded his grasp of the situation. "Then you are offering me the photographs if I will have no further designs on Carmina."
"No, I'm afraid not. If I gave them to you, you'd have the upper hand over Sparling and would be free to pursue the investigation. The industry would be ruined and I would be blacklisted, if not murdered. Furthermore, once you had the photos you'd have nothing to stop you from getting Carmina. You see, I'm no more naive than you, Clayboro."
"Yes, that's plain. Then what is it you want?"
"My terms are quite stiff. First, I want you to persuade Sparling to call off the search for Carmina. Tell him it was only a whim, that you're having a great time, that you're quite content with your redheaded friend, or with Dana, or whatever you want to say. It must be convincing, though. Second, I want you to call off the investigation."
There was a long silence. The men had stopped on the beach and faced each other, gazing intently into the other's eyes.
Finally Clayboro said "And suppose I refuse to comply?"
"I will have those photographs published immediately. Frankly, the whole industry and you can all go to hell. You and Sparling may be able to work out a peaceful coexistence, but since the future of drugs doesn't concern me as much as the life of the woman I love, I have the power to blow everything up and I won't hesitate to use it. On the other hand, I give you my word that the photographs will never see the light of day if you go along with me, and furthermore, I will force Sparling to give you a bigger share of the take than he's offered you so far. I intend to say the same things to him as I've just told you. He'll have no choice about it, and neither do you."
"You do play rough, don't you?"
"Yes. And for keeps. Now, what do you say?" Vic's heart pounded furiously, and even the strong wind that had whipped up after sunset wasn't enough to dry the sweat on his face and neck.
Clayboro paused, and then offered his hand. "I must say you've done some mighty shrewd horse trading, Vic. You have me. Let's shake on it."
Their hands met and closed around each other firmly. Then the two men turned around and headed back to the hotel. The moon was up, casting a silver light on the sea and the island, throwing the men into black relief.