“Who are you?”
“Joe Beeker.” Joe held out his hand, not expecting Valiant to take it. “I used to work at Fulmont Metal.”
Valiant looked around. Up close, he had presence — fit, strong, clear-eyed, with a haircut and clothes that even Joe could tell cost vast amounts of money. Someone accustomed to watching other people get out of his way.
“You’re interrupting a private dinner,” he said. “Leave now, or the police will haul you away.”
“Yeah?” Joe said. “Do you really want to do that? Because I won’t go quietly. I’ll be hollering about how badly you treated us, stealing the company, stripping the pensions, cheating the suppliers. I’ll bet there are forty cell phones with cameras in here. You’ll be all over the internet in half an hour — and I’ll walk, since I haven’t actually done anything wrong.” He paused. “Unlike you.”
A smile flashed. “You’re trying to threaten me?”
“Me? I just turned sixty-two. I’m a tired old man. I’m not threatening anybody.”
Valiant shrugged. “What do you want?”
“Just to talk for a couple minutes.” Joe looked closely at Valiant’s eyes. “Mostly, I’m wondering, do you understand what you did to us?”
“I —”
“Deep down? Because I don’t think a regular person would have gone there. I think you just don’t realize the suffering you caused in order to make an extra few million bucks for yourself.”
“Just business.” Valiant looked toward the bar, frowning a bit, then drank from his wineglass. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I —”
“Everything we did was perfectly legal. By the book.”
“I keep hearing that.”
“Your boss had run the company into the ground. What you don’t get is, we saved the place. If we hadn’t come along to fix it, the entire operation would have gone under, and nobody would be working anymore.”
“Fulmont was doing fine until you called the debt.”
“That was entirely within our rights.”
“That was ruthless and unnecessary — except to give you an opening to loot the place.” A waiter appeared, looking confused.
“Excuse me, sir, are you joining the party? And the lady … ?”
“We’re fine,” Valiant said.
“Ah, shall I bring out the first course?”
“I’ll let you know when.”
“Very good.” He slipped away, still frowning.
“You can’t fix everything,” said Joe. “Not completely. I know that. But at an absolute minimum, you need to give the pension back.”
“Oh, go to hell.” Valiant’s patience had begun to wear.
“It’s only six million dollars. Last year you boasted about earning, what, nine billion? You can afford it.”
“It was all legal. There’s no obligation.”
“Legal.” Joe sighed. “What you did — it was wrong.”
He didn’t get anywhere. Valiant sat obstinate for another minute, disregarding him. When the waiter came back again, with the maître d’ for support, Joe stood up.
“Thanks for the time, Mr. Valiant,” he said.
“If I ever see you again, you’re going to jail.”
“Beeker,” said Joe. “With three e’s. You need some time to think it over, that’s okay. Let’s say, by Wednesday? A public announcement. I’ll be waiting.”
“Fuck you.”
Joe nodded. “Wednesday,” he said again, and left.
NOTHING HAPPENED, EXCEPT that Valiant hired some bodyguards. They were at his house — Joe followed the Gallardo one evening, an hour’s drive out of the city and into horse country, to see a blacked-out SUV waiting at the gate. In the morning the bodyguards arrived early at the office, and when Valiant went out for lunch, Joe saw at least one musclehead nearby the entire time.
On the other hand, they didn’t actually drive with him. The sports car was a two-seater, hardly built for six-foot linebackers carrying automatic weapons. Joe thought about this, and he followed Valiant to and from his house for a few more days.
At a distance — a great distance. He wasn’t going to be accused of stalking.
Thursday afternoon, Joe stopped waiting for Valiant’s announcement and started thinking about plan B. He had to borrow a phone book from the desk guy at the motel — the room didn’t have one, and pay phones seemed to have disappeared from the city. He’d never find this particular kind of shop back home, but Manhattan didn’t disappoint: three choices in Midtown alone, and more in the boroughs.