Page 66 of Blackmail
“There’s one other angle we should look at. Something Liam said almost as a throwaway, but I can’t get it out of my head. He said on television they often show random people getting violently grabbed, but that’s not how it happens. Most of the time, a person is lured or sold into the pipeline by someone they know. So we should look harder at our employees, maybe even other clients.”
“If I find out someone who works for us is doing this shit, I’ll kill them myself.”
Lehman clears his throat. Down by the lake, the crane senses the gator’s approach and gives up its hunt for food, speedwalking in the opposite direction. Again, Lehman clears his throat.
“Spit it out, Lehman.”
“Most of these higher-profile targets were grabbed from parties. Thanks to your boy toy, we know at least one was a party Tony coordinated. I get why you don’t want to talk to him, Bas, but he might know something.”
I’ve been thinking the same thing. I just haven’t been happy about it. Asking Tony for help means him asking for something he wants in return—something I won’t want to give.
“I know.”
“You busy trying to come up with a way to get one over on him before you try?”
If I said no, I’d be lying. Whatever concession Tony asks for, he’ll delight in pulling it out of me. Between my pride and the need for any information he might have, it’s a no-brainer. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“He’ll try to use our need for information as leverage.” Most likely in the form of me handing over a hefty portion of my net worth.
“Maybe we should have the team talk to him.”
The same team that tied our last guy to a chair and tortured him until he gave up information? “That seems like overkill.”
“If he implies he knows something but won’t help unless you sign over half your fucking company to him then I disagree.”
“He might not.” But I know Lehman’s right. Tony’s shown his true colors since catching him with Simon; I can see it coming from a mile away.
Lehman makes a noise that suggests he believes my denial about as much as I do.
“I’ll give it some thought,” I amend.
“Please do.”
The alligator is chasing the bird, gaining speed. Just as he snaps his jaws, the bird takes flight. I’m not sure whether I was rooting for the predator or the prey.
From the other room, I hear the sound of a shower starting.
“I have to go,” I say.
“I’ll let you know if I have more,” Lehman says.
I sigh and return to my dinner, trying to ignore the sound of water hitting tiles, the memory of Simon’s wet body against mine.
Simon, who works those same parties where people have disappeared. Who’s to say he couldn’t fit the description of the next dark web bidder? If I truly want to protect him, I have to swallow my pride.
Do the thing you hate. It’s been my motto for most of my life. Getting the unpleasant shit out of the way is how I’ve built nearly everything in my life worth having. No reason to stop now.
So I text Tony.
Sebastian: Dinner Friday—Mama Elisabetta’s at seven.
Mama’s is one of his favorite places. Intimate, amazing food, Michelin-starred with prices to match. Tony won’t make a scene in a place where the upper crust of Belle Argo eats. He cares too much about what people think.
I send a follow-up.
Sebastian: Now get out of my condo and leave the key this time.
Lehman would have come up with a nicer way to say that. He’s the one who’s always dealt with the clients because he has a charm that I can’t seem to manage. Lehman’s nice. I’m not.
