twenty yards along the fence when he glanced to his left and noticed a high juniper hedge, which seemed oddly familiar to him, almost as if he’d dreamt of it. Coming closer, he recognized the gap in the bushes and the white gravel drive. It was the Gammonds’ house, where his mother used to clean, where he used to pick her up in the afternoons, its brick façade smaller than he remembered it, the shutters painted white now rather than dark green. He’d never come to the Hollands’ from this direction and hadn’t known this house was so nearby.
The sight of it brought him up short. Picturing the old lady in her jade necklace, a moment he hadn’t thought of in years came back to him, an exchange they’d had the last time he’d come here.
She had asked, as usual, how school was going, but instead of giving his standard curt reply, he’d told her what he hadn’t figured out a way to tell his mother—that he was leaving, going into the navy. No one else but the recruiter had known, not even his cousin Michael. He had wanted to shock the old lady, to show her that he was more than her cleaning lady’s son. But she hadn’t been the least surprised. “Good for you,” she’d said. “My father was an admiral, commanded the Second Fleet during the war. He always had tremendous respect for the enlisted men.”
A trowel in her gloved hand, the skin of her face a fine, tan wrinkle, those heavy stones and the little silver rings that separated them hanging around her neck.
Why hadn’t she given him away, he wondered now. When his mother approached, Mrs. Gammond had said nothing, made no congratulatory comment or aside, as if she’d known the news was a secret. She’d just smiled and waved goodbye.
She had been elderly back then; by now she would be dead and gone.
Putting the matter aside, he kept walking up the street, looking for a gap in the fence. Stepping into the field, he strode through the tall grass, making for the house.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure moving quickly toward him in the twilight.
“Hold it there,” the man called out, “you can’t come in this side.” He hustled up to block Doug’s path, all suited six-three of him, complete with an earpiece and a flag pin on his lapel.
“Get out of my way,” Doug said.
“This is a private party, sir, if you—”
“I pay your fucking wage!” he shouted, pushing past the goon.
___________
HE FOUND HOLLAND coming down the steps of the terrace, a crystal tumbler in hand.
“We’ve got a problem,” Doug said. “We need to talk.”
“Well, gosh, thanks for the news flash. I’ve been dealing with it all morning. Bernie fucking Ebbers. How much money did we lend that guy? And now that showboat Spitzer is after us. Like we’re the first people in the world to do our clients a favor? He’s a politician for Christ’s sake, he does favors for a living. But oh no, the party in the market is over, right? And the people want their sacrificial lambs. The script’s as old as Teddy Roosevelt, and if we’re lucky it’ll be just as toothless. But they’ll want cash and that’s the one thing we don’t have right now, thanks to you.” He emptied his glass. “So yeah, you’re right, we’ve got a problem.”
“Let’s go inside.”
His shoulders slumping, Holland turned back up the steps and led Doug down the hall and into his study. Closing the door behind them, Doug leaned his back up against it.
“We’re in trouble,” he said. “More than we thought.”
As Doug explained what McTeague had done, Holland’s head moved up and back, as if tapped on the nose by a boxer. When it sunk forward again, his mouth was half open and he looked dazed.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No.”
At which point, the door handle nudged Doug in the small of his back and he stepped aside to watch Glenda enter. She wore a red silk dress with blue pearl buttons and across her chest a spray of diamonds.
The Adderall she’d taken following her nap had mixed with the drink to give her the novel sensation of being simultaneously drunk and highly efficient.
“Hello, Doug,” she said, unsteady on her feet. “How are you? I was so sorry to hear about Judge Cushman’s decision. But I’m sure you and Charlotte will work it out, won’t you? Now Jeffrey, you need to come