bone in your body so you’re more compact and easier to swallow.
How old? Hard to say; fifty maybe, but with that well-cared-for, smooth-skinned look that only big money can buy. Davie didn’t believe half the stories told about this guy; didn’t want to either. He was Egyptian or something. Immaculately dressed in a three-piece suit made from the finest wool, his slender frame could almost be described as spare, perhaps because he was tall; six feet tall to be exact with the rigid posture usually reserved for military types - or undertakers. And to top it all off, he had jet black hair drawn straight back to accent a high forehead and a widow’s peak. It made him look even more predatory, more evil if you like, and right now Davie didn’t like so he concentrated instead on his fingers resting none too quietly in his lap.
If it was true that women lined up to sleep with this creep than all Davie could say was that either they had cast iron stomachs or one hell of an itch. Whatever the truth was, one thing was sure, Capritzo had the finest stable of whores this side of the Mississippi. And all of it was high quality stuff too with price tags to match. If he regularly oiled these dames himself, and it was rumored that he did before sending them off with big smiles and a few new tricks of the trade to practice with, he would be one hell of a busy boy.
‘I have learned of your indebtedness purely by chance. Tell me Mr. Kendall, do you have sufficient funds to satisfy Mr. Stark?’
‘Well, I ah … my car is ah…’
‘…1972 Ford Mustang, worth perhaps less than nothing considering that the brakes are in need of major repair. Come, come Mr. Kendall, surely you must have other resources.’
Davie lowered his head.
‘I see. You realize, I trust, that Mr. Stark is quite prepared to make an example of you. The sum of money is incidental to him, the debt negotiable, but alas you have compounded your error when you felt compelled to bed his current mistress. As I have said, a most regrettable situation. Has it occurred to you, Mr. Kendall, that you may well lose your life all for the paltry sum of four thousand dollars?’
‘Sir, I don’t know why you, ah ... why I’m, ah ... here.’ Davie’s veneer cracked like the shell of an egg.
‘Then I shall tell you. I have a proposition for you. If you do exactly as I ask of you then I will arrange to have not only your gambling debt erased, but I will actively seek to amend the damage caused by your little indiscretion with Miss Napier. Have we an accord?’
‘I, ah … I mean, it depends on what you…’
‘Please Mr. Kendall - David - you are hardly in a position to question me or to debate the finer details. Either you undertake the task I have in mind for you, or you do not. I can assure you, however, that this thing is of no great matter, legal and well within your scope. I would even hazard to suggest that you might enjoy it. Answer please.’
‘All right, I’m in,’ Davie replied, more terrified than ever.
‘Good.’ The smile again, only this time it was more triumphant than condescending. He had hold of his prey and was about to squeeze. ‘I believe you are acquainted with a young woman by the name of Sarah Winthrope Churchill. Is that correct?’
‘Sarah? Yeah, I know her. She’s in some of my classes but I mean, well, Sarah is … well, she’s not the type of girl you might be looking for Mr. Capritzo, sir.’
‘Indeed? Perhaps you are correct. The interest, however, is on the part of a client of mine. I personally have no knowledge of the young lady nor have I seen her, but my client has and was, it would seem, quite taken by her. He has expressed a desire to meet with her formally, to talk, dance perhaps, but as is so often the case, he is somewhat reticent, fearful perhaps of rejection. Tell me Mr. Kendall, is Miss Churchill a virgin?’
Davie felt his bowels do a back flip. ‘Yeah, she’s a virgin all right. Look Mr. Capritzo, I think you’d better tell your client straight out that Sarah is, well … not typical.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘She doesn’t date. All she’s interested in is getting high grades. Some of the guys think she’s a lesbo.’
‘A what?’
‘A lesbian - you know. Twice I’ve asked her out, but no go. I’ve dated her roommates and they say she’s straight but just doesn’t like guys or guys her age; I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘Hey, I give your client credit for having good taste because she’s one great looking girl and smart too, real smart but well ... frankly I think he’d be wasting his time.’
‘Surely that is for my client to decide, Mr. Kendall, not you. Now, this is what I want you to do. You are aware, of course, that there is to be a masquerade ball at the Fenshaw on New Year’s Eve?’
Davie nodded, biting at his lower lip.
‘I have acquired two invitations; one for you and one for Miss Churchill. Costumes will arrive at your apartment at noon on the day of the event. You will escort her to the ball. What may or may not happen then is a matter best left to my client and, of course, Miss Churchill.’
‘What if she refuses to go with me?’
‘That I doubt. The ball is an exclusive event and besides, with your considerable charm I am sure you will prevail upon her. However, might I suggest that in your dealings with Miss Churchill you abandon the tee-shirt, tight jeans and cool man approach for something more sophisticated.’
‘That’s it? That’s all I have to do?’
‘Just so.’
Davie’s face clouded. ‘Starky wants his money right away.’
‘And he shall have it. Your debt will then transfer to me. If all goes according to plan, you will start the New Year free of all encumbrances. Does such a proposition not interest you?’
Now it was Davie’s turn to smile. ‘Mr. Capritzo sir, I … I don’t know what to say but well thanks and, well I want you to know that I won’t let you down.’ Impulsively he extended his hand as he rose.
The gesture was pointedly ignored.
‘Sit down, Mr. Kendall,’ Capritzo growled. ‘There is one thing more.’ He settled back deep within the soft leather chair and regarded Davie fixedly while at the same time turning a pearl inlaid letter opener between long, slender fingers adorned with several jewel-encrusted rings. ‘I feel compelled to warn you. Should my client, during the natural course of events, discover that Miss Churchill is not a virgin as you have confirmed, then I will kill you myself. Is that understood?’
‘Yes sir,’ Davie was just able to gasp before pure unadulterated terror constricted his windpipe, making it difficult for him to breathe, let alone speak.
‘Good day, Mr. Kendall.’
*****
Capritzo leaned forward and pressed a small button set into the surface of the desk then turned as his personal bodyguard entered through a side door cleverly disguised amid the rank of mirrors.
