The Bookmakers by Zev Chafets Page B

together?” he asked plaintively.
    “You’re such a dominant personality, I don’t feel like myself with you around,” she explained in an appeasing tone. “I need to have my own experiences.”
    Even in his love-besotted state, Wolfowitz understood that these experiences might include other men. He reminded himself that he had agreed to allow her an independent life, told himself that he was a bigtime New York editor now, and should be sufficiently sophisticated to accept his wife’s liberated lifestyle. And then he went out and hired a private investigator named Edgar Conlon to find out what Louise was doing in her spare time.
    Conlon’s report took six weeks to compile and it was worse than anything Wolfowitz had imagined. It included dates, times and the names of five men. Four of those names meant nothing to Wolfowitz. The fifth was Mack Green.
    “Are you absolutely sure?” Wolfowitz asked the detective.
    Conlon, a retired New York detective with a large nose and bad dentures, nodded. “I got pictures,” he said, with the impersonal cheer of a man selling hot dogs at a ballpark.
    “I don’t want to see any pictures,” said Wolfowitz, feeling numb.
    “They don’t cost that much, especially when you consider what they could save you in a divorce settlement,” said Conlon. “And you wouldn’t need the entire gallery. Probably just one or two guys would be plenty.”
    “There’s not going to be a divorce,” said Wolfowitz, more to himself than to the detective. His numbness was thawing, replaced by a humiliated rage. At that moment he made two irrevocable decisions. He would forgive Louise because he loved her too much to lose her. And he would take his revenge by ruining Mack Green’s life.
    • • •
    Wolfowitz’s strategy for keeping his wife was to make himself indispensable to her. As an anniversary gift he published her collection of short stories,
Village Idiots
, lavishing on it the ingenuity, attention and money he had once given
The Oriole Kid
. The book sold well despite lukewarm reviews and Louise was astute enough to see that its success was due to her husband’s efforts. That realization altered the balance of power between them.
    “You’ve given me a wonderful anniversary present,” she told him one night in bed. “I wonder what you’d like from me.”
    “I’d like for you to stop going out alone so much,” he said. “I worry about you. Besides, I don’t think so much socializing is good for your career.”
    “I wouldn’t want you to worry,” said Louise, aware that a transaction was taking place. She snuggled against him and kissed his neck. “I’ll stay home more at night if you want me to.”
    Wolfowitz noted the “at night” but decided to let it pass; he didn’t want to make life intolerable for Louise. He knew that there was something perverse about the overpowering passion he felt for her, but he didn’t care. In a way he even took pride in it, the pride of a square man in his secret kinkiness.
    Wolfowitz’s campaign against Mack Green was more surreptitious. Since his marriage, the two men no longer spent their evenings together but they still met for lunch at least once a week. Wolfowitz was careful not to display any outward signs of hostility, and Mack’s obliviousness to impending disaster sharpened the pleasure of anticipation; Artie knew it was only a matter of time before he got his chance to get even.
    Opportunity arrived in the rotund form of Tommy Russo. “I wanna talk to you about Mack’s new book,” he said. “See if we can come to some arrangement.”
    “I don’t see why not,” said Wolfowitz genially. He was aware that Mack had recently picked Russo up the same way
he
had once been chosen and for the same purpose, as a combination servant-sidekick.He also knew that the little ex-priest didn’t know a thing about the book business.
    “Mack told me what you want to pay. It’s not enough,” Russo said.
    “How much did you have in