“That’ll work fine,” Leppo said. “I’ll get Casey over. He works out that way anyhow.”
“A couple of boxes of tracer and one minipack of live should be enough. Mahom’s got them in the back. I already checked.”
“Will do. I’ll square it with him as soon as you’re gone.”
“Okay.” Mack closed the toolbox and straightened up expectantly. “What was it we said . . . ?” Leppo felt inside his jacket and took out the envelope that had been delivered from Mullen. He opened it and peeled out four inner-system fifty-dollar bills. Mack checked them, then folded and stuffed them into a back pocket of his jeans. “Okay, Sol. So we’ll see you here again tomorrow.”
“Ten.”
“On the dot.” Mack hoisted up the toolbox and walked over to his truck. Leppo watched while he climbed in, started up, and drove off along Beacon Way.
The envelope was still in Leppo’s hand. He stared at it for several seconds before returning it slowly to his inside jacket pocket. It was money, yes; and he had long considered money to be the key to everything else that was desirable. But blood money, very possibly? The thought wasn’t comfortable at all. He was still wrestling with it when the sound of a motor started on the far side of the office shack; moments later, Phil Verlan’s auto came into sight and turned onto Beacon Way, heading in the opposite direction from the one Mack had taken. Leppo felt the envelope in his jacket again. Then he walked up to the office and let himself in by the side door.
Mahom was fiddling with the adjustment of a drawer in his desk that wasn’t closing properly. “You got Phil thinking now, Sol,” he chuckled. “Whatever gave you the idea of getting involved with people who wanna start private wars?”
Leppo shrugged. “I just think protection is going to get big around here.”
“Well, you came to a good place to do your apprenticeship. Was that the idea?”
“Hey, what you pay me for always comes first. You know that.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining. You do good work. It sounds like pretty sharp thinking to me. I never held that against anybody. That’s what you need to do to get along.”
There was a short silence. Leppo walked over to the water fountain and poured himself a cup. “What happened to that blue Kodiak that was out front?” he asked without looking back. “I haven’t seen it around. Did we sell it?”
“Rented it. Someone might be interested in one of the lux DH models coming from the lunar plants. The Kodiak’ll give him a taste of DH and get him around in the meantime.”
“Anyone we know?” Leppo forced his voice to remain casually curious.
“Oh, a real good friend. One of the best.”
Leppo’s stomach tightened. “Oh, really?”
Mahom nodded his massive, frizzy mane. “They call him the Knight. He comes and goes, gets involved in all kinds of situations you wouldn’t believe. Real smart—but always straight. Sides with what’s right, especially when it’s some little guy who needs help. Has fun getting a piece of the action from the big takers. A while ago, long before you started here, I was being leaned on by a heavy-style protection operation who would have cut me down to being a rent collector for my own place. It was the Knight who fixed them then.” Mahom cackled again at the recollection and drew the drawer out experimentally. “Fixed ’em so good that they ain’t around anymore. I don’t know where he is right now, but maybe when he’s back this way you might want to talk to him about private security. He’d give you some angles you never thought of.” Mahom nodded, satisfied, and slid the drawer home again. “One of the best,” he said again. “You won’t ever meet a better friend than that one, Sol.”
* * *
Leppo had a date that night with a girl called Mitzi, whom he had known casually for a while. Partway through the evening, she remarked that Leppo didn’t seem to be his usual talkative self. Was there something wrong? Leppo replied that it was nothing to do with them. He had a business problem that was worrying him.