And what’s going to stop him from squeezing me for more?
Shit!
“Kenny, where am I going to put my hands on thirty grand?”
“Important folks like you, you got connections.”
Badde kicked the concrete four-foot-tall wall that served as the balcony’s railing.
Goddamn it!
“Where are you now?” he asked.
“At the house in West P
hilly.”
“How soon do you need the money?”
“Like yesterday?”
Shit.
“Kenny, I hate to ask this, but do you know if he’s still alive? Have you talked to Reggie?”
“Yeah, this morning. But he won’t be if I don’t do something.”
Bullshit. Then they really wouldn’t get their money.
Kenny, as if reading Badde’s mind, added, his voice cracking: “And if they kill him, they’re coming after me for it.”
Well, then not paying would remove one problem immediately.
But Kenny would still be mine, especially if he went into hiding and started blowing the damn whistle on the absentee ballots.
The goddamn media would love that story. It’d become a bigger circus than the Bermuda photographs.
And even if I gave him the money, I can’t keep having to wonder when dimwit Kenny or Reggie will fuck up again, or if Kenny will open his mouth about the ballots.
“Okay, look, Kenny, it’s going to take a little time. Especially at this hour. But I’ll send someone first thing—”
Kenny interrupted, “No, man. You need to bring it.”
He waited a moment, then replied, “Why me? Personally?”
“It’d be better. That’s all.”
Badde lost his temper: “Well, you can fucking forget it, Kenny! Goddamn you! You want the money or not?”
There was a long pause while Kenny thought about that.
“Fine, then. I’ll be here waiting.”
As Badde broke the connection, looking out at West Philly and shaking his head, he heard the glass door slide open, then Jan’s voice: “Everything okay, honey? I saw you kick the wall.”
When he turned and looked at her, he saw that she glistened from having just taken a shower. Now she wore a tan silk robe. It hung open, and he could see that she was completely naked beneath it.
Badde took a deep breath and composed himself.