Yes, sir, I do. Henry slapped bat against palm again. He needed a new writer. Bad. I can do what I do from anywhere. This is nice place. I move around a lot before, but this is nice place. I stay here. At eight oclock tonight. Some of the guys who aint got just shit, clabber or mud for brains are gonna be there. They dont like all this strike talk either. Hell, if it was gonna come to a strike, we’d go for compulsory arbitration first. That’s what Arch always said and I agree withhim. Nobody knows how a strike’s gonna turn out. For all you know it might bust the union and the first thing you know you’d be signing a yellow-dog contract to keep your job. You know, sign something where you’d agree to get out of the union if you’re in it or not join it if you’re not. Later, he walked out of the subway station in the Financial District and into the heat of the morning. It was early enough for the city to still be waking up. Delivery trucks were parked illegally, and cabs, cars, and Ubers were hammering their horns, besmirching the only quiet time of the day the city had. Birds pecked at pavement trash, street sweepers were sweeping, yawning suits and nonsuits were shuffling to their jobs looking like they were heading to their graves. Why do you think theyre involved? Then what? And what did you do with that green paint, if anything? That Grimes had a heart attack. I have been very careful. They never even bother to look up here. They take this old empty house for granted, the way a wife takes her husband for granted — until she suddenly finds its too late to salvage her marriage. Well, Mason said, grinning, thats something. Yes. A French friend gave me a year of Freds services as a gift. Long before the year was up, I hired him. He is an ex — Royal Marine commando, expert at hand-to-hand combat and the British interservice pistol champion. He and my housekeeper and cook, Helene, are married, and they live in an apartment next door, in a house I now own. Joan lives there, too, and Faith, my pilot. Chapter 11 What? Later, the train slowed and then stopped. Devine looked out at Cowls pool area. It was empty this morning. No meditation for Montgomery in a bathing suit. And Cowl might have already fled the country, if he had indeed killed Stamos. What are we, rotten or just normal? He... just grabbed me, said it would be exciting. It all happened so fast. Her cheeks flushed. Will you erase the pictures?.