I Come as a Theif by Louis Auchincloss Page A

tops that nudged their way to the curb. When he spoke, his tone was the least bit mocking.
    "So here we are already. On the threshold of crime."
    Max glanced toward the closed door. "You mustn't shout about it. I'm not even sure it's a crime. It's quite unprovable, anyway—a nonfeasancy kind of thing."
    "I won't insult your legal intelligence by bothering to repudiate that. I'll simply attribute it to the pressure you've been under." Tony strolled over to Max's desk and looked down at him. He felt the same detachment that he had felt in the Settlement House, the same mild contempt. "Gosh, man, you do look done in. It's the first time I've ever seen circles under those famous boyish blue eyes. You should be more careful. Your juvenile charm is one of our trademarks."
    "Can it, Tony. This is serious."
    "What's so serious about it? Why, your hands are actually trembling! What are you afraid of, pal? You don't think these thugs will actually do something to you?"
    "Well, they're not renowned for their gentleness."
    "You're afraid they might rough you up? Forget it. That's the kind of treatment they reserve for the two-bit store-keeper who's lost his interest money playing the horses. Lassatta didn't lend you money because he wanted your thirty percent. That was just an incidental benefit. He lent you money to get you in a hole so he could get at
me.
"
    "But I'm still in the hole, aren't I?" Max looked down at his shaking hands. "Tony, please let's do it and get out of this mess. Please, Tony!"
    "Take it easy."
    "You don't know these guys. They're not afraid of anyone or anything. They'd bump off John Lindsay himself if he was in their way."
    "Oh, Max!"
    "They would! But, all right, don't think of the negative aspect. Think of the positive. Look at it this way. We get the time we need. We get the money. With any luck at all, we'll break through into some kind of real dough. And you don't have to do anything. That's the beauty of it. You don't have to take any risk or commit any crime. You leave everything to me. Isn't that simple enough? And in six months' time you're on your way to becoming ... well, you name it, Mr. Commissioner."
    Tony walked slowly back to the window where he stood looking out again, stroking his chin. He had a funny feeling of being excited all around his heart—so that the muscles in that area seemed painfully tightened—and at the same time of being calm, even numb, in all other parts of his body. The great thing had to be not the money, but the experience. Yet what value could there be in any experience that had to be shared with anyone as spiritually degraded as Max now seemed? "I concede the beauty of the plan," he said at last. "It's quite admirable, really. Let me go over it again, step by step, to be sure I have it all straight."
    "Go ahead."
    "Menzies, Lippard and Company are in trouble. They're undercapitalized by a million and a half. If they don't meet the SEC requirements by a week from Friday, they're suspended from trading on the stock exchange. That means they're shut down. Finished."
    "And the
Menzies
case is on your desk."
    "Obviously, it has to be. Now let me go on. Lassatta owns or represents a good piece of Menzies, Lippard. We're not sure which. Perhaps he's a limited partner through a front name. Perhaps the chief of his Mafiosan family is. It doesn't matter. The point is that Lassatta stands to lose heavily, personally or as a representative, if Menzies shuts up shop next week. But if I manage to sit on the case so as to give them more time—for two more weeks to be exact—which is all Menzies thinks he needs to raise his money—then forty g's of crisp new bills will be slipped to Max Leonard in an envelope while he is urinating in some washroom."
    "The graphic details are yours."
    "Ah, yes, something must be, I suppose. As you say, I am to take no risk. I don't even have to arrange the delay. All I have to do is
not
do anything about the Menzies matter for two