AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, leaving is not a good idea,” Beckman said. He looked at his fingernails. “We need to get ourselves more tightly organized so we don’t have a problem like this again. We can’t have our war hero turning into a walkabout, can we? He doesn’t appear to want his medication. Maybe you can do something about that.”
“I’m not going to talk on this level with you, or in this environment, either,” she said. “Maybe you didn’t offer me a chair because this collection of white trash has already sat on all the furniture and you didn’t want me to touch any of it. At least that’s what I would like to believe. Regardless, I’ll leave you to your friends and be on my way.”
Beckman leaned back in his chair, grinning, lifting his hand to the four white men. “I’ll see you gentlemen at the café at noon,” he said. “Stay away from the whiskey and the ladies. I have a job for you.”
They filed out of the room, their eyes straight ahead, their boots heavy on the floor, their odor sliding across her skin. Each waited until he was outside the door before he put on his hat.
“You never cease to surprise me, Maggie,” Beckman said. “I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of that bunch.”
“Why are they here?”
“If they didn’t work for me, they would be working for my enemies. Now sit down and let’s talk business.”
“Where is Ishmael?”
“Receiving the medical care he needs. We found him in a clinic across the river that’s full of dying influenza patients. We probably saved his life. Do you know who Mr. Po is? From what I know about your history, you should.”
“No, I’m sorry, I know nothing about Mr. Po, other than the fact that he seems to be the only gentleman in the room.”
Beckman rubbed his eyes. “You’re an absolute curse, Maggie. You’re going to punish me because I was a little flippant with you? Why do you think I keep you around? Yes, you’re beautiful, but I hired you for your brains and your willingness to do bloody near anything to accomplish your goals. We’re alike more than we’re different. We know how the world works, and we don’t buy in to the rot that turns men into sheep.”
“Mr. Beckman telling truth. You are beautiful lady,” Mr. Po said, as though reading the words one by one off a card.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I speak French but not English so well.”
“You speak fine,” she said.
“Mr. Po has been a longtime friend of the British and the French in South Asia,” Beckman said. “Soon he will be a facilitator for us.”
“You’re arming Orientals?” she said.
“Not just yet,” Beckman said. “But their day in the sun is coming. Right now the issue is currency. As you probably guessed, they have none.” He leaned forward, lacing his fingers on his desktop.
She waited. “Yes? Go on.”
“So they’ve created a ‘currency’ of their own. You know what it is, don’t you?”
“No,” she said.
“No idea?” Beckman said. “Comes from a lovely red flower? Oceans of red flowers bursting from green husks? The Brits transported the seeds from India to China. We’re actually getting in on things a bit late.”
“You’re going into the opium trade?”
“No, I’m an arms trader. I’m simply opening up my parameters regarding payment. I don’t expect a goatherd to pay me in British pounds or American gold eagles. You’ll be my liaison with Mr. Po. You’ll probably have to travel overseas.”
“I don’t know about this, Arnold. I don’t like it.”
“You’re telling me you never smoked opium?”
“I tried it.”
“And you’re still here, aren’t you? Not only here, but you seem to have found the Fountain of Youth. Maggie, the potential with Mr. Po is unlimited. America’s cities are filled with wretched, unhappy people. A man who cannot find fifty cents to feed his family will find five dollars to buy alcohol. Think of the amounts he will find in order to buy heroin.”
Maggie’s head began to throb, a nest of veins gathering in her temple. She was sitting in a chair framed out of elk antlers, the horn pinching into her back. “I have no knowledge of these matters. You’ll be breaking the law. You’ll be undoing your own enterprises. You’re a smarter businessman than that.”
“We are not breaking any laws. Mr. Po’s transactions take place overseas. The vendors in this country will receive from him. The product grown in the Orient will be sold by him. And he will pay us for the guns we ship to friendly countries or democratic insurgencies.”
