“Sorry, sir. Of course. The augur is inside. If you’ll come this way, we’ll see if he’s free.”
“He better be. I’ve come a long way to get turned away like a beggar at the door.”
I follow them onto the boat.
The truth is, I don’t know if this is how Anpu talks and I sure as hell don’t know his voice. It just goes to show you that people will believe anything, let you in anywhere, if you show up with a clipboard or an attitude.
They show me into the living room and I make myself comfortable on Abbot’s million-dollar couch. One of the security guys goes off to find Abbot while the other stays with me. I don’t think he’s here because I might steal the silver. Let’s see if I can figure out why.
“I’d like a drink. Gentleman Jack. Neat, if you have it.”
For a few seconds he looks puzzled. I guess he’s not my waiter after all. How am I supposed to know how these things work? No one gave me instructions when I got the job. Or did they? Maybe it’s in the envelope with my insurance papers. I need to check that sometime.
“Oh,” he says. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to . . .”
I wave a tired hand at him.
“Forget it. Wishful thinking. I should have known he’d keep the cabinet locked. Don’t want anyone sneaking nips during working hours, do we?”
“No, sir,” he says.
I can see the poor guy’s eyes and hear his heart pounding. He’d like to shoot me and dump me in the Pacific. I should ease up a little. He can’t help it if he chose a shitty career.
“Thank you. For the courtesy. I’ll be sure to tell the augur you’ve taken good care of me.”
“Thank you,” he says with the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.
Now I’ve really confused the poor bastard. Time to shut up. I don’t want him to shoot the real Anpu the next time he stops by for tea.
A minute or so later Abbot comes into the room with a big quizzical smile on his face.
He says, “Charles. Did I forget a meeting tonight?”
“No. I just stopped by for a chat. Your men have been taking care of me. This one in particular. Be sure to give him a good performance review.”
Abbot glances at the security guy.
“Well, thank you, Charles. I’m sure we’re all grateful for your input.”
He looks at Mr. Security.
“We’re fine now. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir,” he says. Then to me, “You have a good day, sir.”
“You do the same,” I say in my most magnanimous voice.
As security hustles out, Abbot sits down. He stares at me.
“This is a new look for you, Charles. Do you have a cold coming on? Your voice sounds a little strained.”
“When you get kicked in the throat as many times as I have, it can sound a little funny.”
“Excuse me?”
He looks alarmed. No one around here can take a joke.
“Who kicked you?”